Ptolemy rushed toward the palace armoury, sword gripped tight. Ahead, a forlorn beggar saw him approaching. The sun-ravaged skin, taut like cured leather over his bony face, rearranged into a hopeful smile.

“Pleeaase?”

The beggar stretched out an open hand onto the road.

Ptolemy knocked the hand aside and continued without a word.

There were no boys at the armoury to help him put his armour on, so it took him even longer than usual. It was silent, with most of the armour racks already vacated. Putting his armour on, Ptolemy made his way to the Senate as quickly as he could. There were no other guards standing at the entrance.

As Ptolemy approached, he heard a large commotion in the Senate building. Suddenly, senators began to pour out the door, white robes flowing behind them. There was screaming inside.

“What’s happening? What’s going on in there?” Ptolemy shouted at the fleeing senators, but they were too panicked to notice. He tried to push his way through, slowly wading to the senate entrance. There were so many shouts Ptolemy could not make sense of them.

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Finally he got into the Senate, where the crowd was thinner but still enough to obscure the source of the panic until he came closer.

A dark red pool was flowing along the senate floor. It was now that he noticed smears and droplets of blood all over the senate, senators with their white robes stained red.

“Make way!” he shouted.

The crowd dispersed around the body. There it was, the source of all this. The Consul’s corpse with a dozen daggers scattered on the ground around it. One was still sticking out of his side. His robe was heavy with blood, soaked all the way through. It clung tight to his contorted form.

No…

Ptolemy turned to look around the room. He scanned the whole amphitheatre, every seat was empty.

“Soter!” he cried, “Soter!”

By now the entire crowd of senators had dispersed but for one old man standing by the wall, looking at the corpse, shivering and wide-eyed.

“Have you seen Soter?” said Ptolemy, walking closer to the senator, “Where is he? Is he alive? Is he safe?”

The old senator tried to open his mouth, but the only sound that he could make was the chattering of his teeth. He stood shivering. Ptolemy looked back at the corpse. He felt a shiver coming on himself.