Read Online The Dreams of Morpheus by Robert Fabbri - Free Book Online Page A

didn’t mention where or how we spent last night.’
    Finding the House of the Moon had been easy, with a carving above the door of Luna, the divine embodiment of the moon, cloak billowing behind her in the shape of a crescent moon as she rode in her oxen-drawn chariot. What had not been easy was concentrating on business and Magnus found his mind wandering as he sat opposite a brown-skinned man in his thirties with a thin face and lips, a sharp nose and tight curly black hair; Egyptian, Magnus had assumed when the man introduced himself as Menes.
    Menes sniffed the tablet and looked across the table at Magnus, his dark eyes glinting with barely restrained greed. ‘How many these you say your patron had, my friend?’
    Magnus hauled his attention away from some vivid images of the night before and focused on one of the two thickset bodyguards standing behind the Egyptian. ‘I didn’t.’
    Menes grinned in a manner that totally failed to convey any charm or warmth. ‘So, my friend, how much you want for this?’
    Magnus took a moment to register the question. ‘Offer me a price.’
    â€˜How can I make an offer when I don’t know how much is for sale? If I take a lot you make me special price.’
    â€˜There is no special price, my friend ; whoever makes the highest offer gets to purchase as much as they want at that price. No discounts, understand?’
    Menes’ grin widened into an obnoxious leer, which, by his manner, he evidently deemed to be a winning smile. ‘My friend, I make you good offer: three thousand denarii a tablet.’
    Magnus almost choked with shock at such a high figure, but managed to transform it into a growl of indignation and, grabbing the tablet from Menes, pushed back his chair. ‘If you start so low, then I’ve wasted my patron’s time in coming here.’
    Menes was on his feet quickly, his hands in the air, palms towards Magnus, laughing, cold and forced. ‘My friend, my friend, I see you are serious man of business; sit, please, sit, we have wine?’
    â€˜No wine, Menes,’ Magnus said, pulling his chair back to the table, ‘and no jokes, just the right price.’
    â€˜Yes, yes, right price.’ Menes sat down again and made a show of thinking for a few moments. ‘Three thousand, five hundred denarii.’
    â€˜That’s enough of this nonsense.’ Magnus got to his feet, toppling his chair.
    â€˜Five thousand!’
    Magnus paused and looked at Menes. ‘Five thousand a tablet?’
    â€˜Yes, my friend.’
    â€˜There are twenty-three more.’
    Menes’ eyes widened with unbridled greed. ‘I take them all, one hundred and ten thousand denarii; I can have the money in gold by dawn tomorrow.’
    â€˜I need to consult my patron; you’ll have the answer by tonight.’ Magnus turned to go. ‘If you try to have me followed, the deal will be over as will be your life. And, my friend, there’s no special price. It’s one hundred and twenty thousand for all twenty-four; which in gold aurii is …’ He did a quick mental calculation, dividing by twenty-five. ‘Four thousand eight hundred.’
    â€˜There is no doubt in my mind that this outrage was sparked by a growing mistrust within the more ignorant sections of the city’s population of the trustworthiness of the measures used in distribution of the grain dole.’ Gaius Vespasius Pollo was adamant and the force with which his right arm sliced down from above his head on the final word emphasised the fact. ‘Why else, Conscript Fathers, would the Urban Cohorts be attacked with bronze modius measures? Modius measures that had been fitted withfalse bottoms to make them one sestius short. We are all aware how much grain could be skimmed off and hoarded if just a tenth of the modius measures in the city were a sixteenth light. Not that any member of this house would organise such a