“Yet” continued the Senator “you held your nerve against this angry mob and agreed to a trial of the prisoners, presided over by the senior camp officers and Marcus Furius Camillus, who was appointed by the men” he added with a confused look on his face, a number of voices rising in the seats around at the room.
“You’ve all read the final outcome” he said to the room at large as he turned to look directly at Postumius, his Tribune’s armour polished to its brilliant best.
“The priests have completed the auguries and agree that the situation is dire, Tribune.”
Postumius’ eyes flicked to his paid Senator who sat coolly listening to his colleague, his attention fixed on the man standing beside him. Postumius fumed, a sudden thought that he had been duped crossing his mind as he licked his lips as the standing Senator continued.
“Dire” he announced to the room with a genuine look of concern on his face. “We cannot allow the soldiers of Rome to ignore their commanders, it would cause chaos” he added as he licked his lips again and took a nervous drink from his silver goblet. As he drank he glanced around the room with wide eyes and a shake of his head. “Gentlemen, we live in troubled times. Clearly our Tribune has acted within his rights and followed the codes and laws of the army. The troops had to die as they were culpable for the death of the prisoners.” He looked at Postumius as if he was going to add something else, but a flick of his eyes to Postumius’s paid Senator suggested that he had been over-ruled in his desire to speak out with regard to Aulus Manlius’s whipping. Postumius smiled to himself as he saw the Senators eyes glance back at the report, his fingers fidgeting on the wooden frame as he regained his thoughts.
“Yes, the law is clear” he stated as he looked around the room. “Before we proceed, is there any challenge to this part of the process?”
After a moments silence in which Postumius held his face high and sat with bated breath waiting for any challenge, the Senator leant forward and pressed a seal into the wax on the tablet in front of him. “Then this part is clear, the records will show that the deaths were in accordance with the law. Furthermore” he glanced to the Senator sat on his left and then to Postumius, a small sigh suggesting he suspected foul play but could not confirm it. “Furthermore” he repeated “it will be recorded that Publius Postumius, Tribune of the Legions of Rome showed leniency to the soldiers under his command by allowing lots to be drawn for the equivalent deaths to the loss of prisoners.” He took a deep breath and passed the tablet to his left, where the Senator looked at the writing and nodded, handing it back to the speaker, who passed it across to the other Senator, who also read and returned the tablet with a nod. As this happened a small number of whispered conversations started in the room, at which the speaker stood taller and raised his chin as he awaited silence.
“The second matter is slightly more complex” the Senator said with a frown, his brown eyes alert as he peered at the men around the room. “It is stated that the soldiers of Rome took matters into their own hands and against their own Centurions’ wishes they demanded that the men guilty of the crime were not punished. This is highly irregular, gentlemen, and calls for more discussion.” At this Postumius stood, the usual movement that allowed the speaker to give him the floor. The Senator turned his head towards the Tribune in surprise as he was about to speak again and held up a finger to Postumius. “If I may finish Tribune?” he said, with a small curl at his lips as Postumius nodded but remained standing. “The position of the council” at which he waved a hand slowly across to indicate the three senators sat on the podium “is that the men did indeed give up their right to any spoils of the campaign, as they clearly” at this a great noise erupted in the room, Postumius smiling as he returned to his seat.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen” the Senator called, his voice hoarse as he raised it above the noise. He slapped the table with his hand, the loud noise stopping some of the calls, but not all of them. “Gentlemen” he shouted again, his eyes roving the room as numerous Senators stood waving clenched fists at Postumius as their clients were clearly going to lose out due to this ruling. “You know the process, you will have time to put forward your comments” he added with a stern look as he shook his head in exasperation. “Where was I?” he mumbled as he ran a finger along the edge of the second tablet he had produced from the pile on the table.
“The soldiers gave up their rights to the spoils of war because they, by law, took arms against their commanding officers and despite many attempts to return them to their posts they refused. At this point the law states that they were, in effect, no longer soldiers of Rome and lost all rights to any spoils from the campaign.” The Senator raised his finger to show he had not finished as he turned the wooden tablet to read from another underneath it. “Tribune Postumius” he said loudly as a few voices had started to speak despite his motion for silence “has provided a list of the officers, Centurions and men who responded to his call for a return to duties” he finished as a number of men stood, some waving arms and others simply staring at the Senator with indignant looks on their faces.
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Manlius sat. His arms ached from the sword practice he had completed no more than ten minutes previously, his body still covered in a glistening sheen of sweat. He looked up at the messenger, who cowered for a moment under the look of rage that came to the patrician’s face as he read the message he had been handed. He looked to the message and then to the messenger and back to the message in his hands.
“I” he mumbled, his jaw dropping as his eyes widened “is this true? Whipped?” he said his voice rising. He stood, which made the messenger take a small step back with a look of fear in his eyes. “Tell me.” Manlius spoke forcefully as the small man, his clothes still dusty from the ride, took another step backwards and then took a deep breath. Aulus Manlius had written the note to his brother from his sick bed where he was recuperating from his ordeal at the hands of Postumius. He’d then passed the note to the messenger and told him to ride directly to his brother’s house and give him the message but to temper the delivery so that his brother did not do anything stupid.
The messenger took another deep breath as Manlius scrutinised him, returning to his seat as he scanned the message again. “Sir” he began “your brother asks that you await his return before you act on this message and he has requested that until his arrival you keep the details to yourself.”
Manlius looked at the messenger and controlled his urge to lash out at the man. He knew that he must respect his brother’s wishes, but he also knew that Publius Postumius would be getting a visit from him sometime soon. Nobody whipped a member of his family and got away with it. His teeth ground as he mulled through a series of options in his mind, the messenger standing uncomfortably in the ensuing silence.
“Fine” he stated suddenly as he stood and strode away towards the inner rooms of his house. “You can go. Tell my brother I look forward to speaking to him” he shouted back over his shoulder as he left.
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“It makes no sense for the men of the Legion to simply put down their arms in mid-campaign, especially when they have already secured a great victory and are only a day or two from their homes” the thin Senator said, his bald head glistening in the heat of the confined room. “I agree with the suggestion that Gaius Javenoli has made, that we await the return of the officers and question all the senior men” he added with a movement of his toga-covered arm towards the figure sat a few places along from his position, who nodded at the gesture.
“Such an act” replied the other standing figure as he swept a look towards the seated Tribune “would put in question the authority of the rank of Tribune and make it clear to any trumped-up career soldier that he may question the imperium of his commanding officer.” There was a loud murmur of agreement from a section of the attending Senators. “This would lead to the degeneration of the rank, gentlemen, and I am sure we do not want that” he stated as he turned to a chorus of agreement from his left.
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“Never” replied the thin Senator with a shake of his head.
“It is true” came the defiant response as a series of coughs rang out around the room, one Senator visibly in distress as he caught his breath and continued to hack out a barking cough as many of the men around him looked to him with concern. As he waved a dismissive arm to inform them that he was fine he started to cough again.
“Yes, it is true” continued the white clad standing figure. “Without the imperium of the Tribune as untouchable we will lose control of the men of Rome. Without the strength of leadership, the armies will collapse and we will find ourselves open to attacks from all our enemies.” As he finished speaking he looked to Postumius with a smile. Postumius glanced around the faces in the room quickly, knowing instantly that the argument was won as he saw the majority of heads nodding, many with deep frowns on their faces. These men knew what it was to stand in front of thousands of soldiers and they knew that imperium, the total power of the most senior officer, was one of the reasons that men fought for Rome. They also knew that without the fear invoked by this total power the army could crumble.
The coughing man rose from his seat, still gasping for breath and waved wildly at the crowd around him as he stepped towards the door using his forearm to cover his mouth, a slave running forward and catching his other arm as he stumbled. Postumius twitched as the man coughed and another Senator away at the back of the room repeated the noise, the deep throaty cough echoing in the high-ceilinged room.
The Senior Senator sat on the podium stood and raised both arms as a hush came across the room, most eyes watching the man being led from the chamber as he continued to cough with unmistakable red spots of blood appearing on his forearm as he left.
“Gentlemen” he said as all eyes returned to him. “As lead Senator in this review I, Papirius Mugillanus will sum up the arguments and decision.” He looked to his fellow Senators who nodded in agreement as silence fell around the room. Postumius took a slow breath, training his eyes on the older man, an ex- Military Tribune with Consular powers who had been elected when Gaius Curtius had been found guilty of not following the correct procedures for the reading of auguries some years before.
“The case has been well argued by both sides. The argument against centres on suggestions that we need to request information from the other officers to be clear on the motivations from the soldiers. However, we have signed statements from the camp prefect and two officers which confirm the statement made by the Tribune.” He pursed his lips as he placed a hand on a tablet on the table with a glance to Postumius. “There is no question that the Tribune acted within his powers and that he acted with leniency in calling a council with representatives from the soldiers themselves” he added with a firm nod of his head. “The question of apportion of goods from Bolae has been discussed and the augury completed.” At this he took a moment to look up at the shuttered windows and his shoulders seemed to tense before he spoke again. Another deep cough came from the back of the room, turning a few heads towards the noise.
“The augury finds in the favour of the Tribune. The priests have concurred that the spoils should go half to the treasury and half to those men identified in the Tribunes report.” At this a number of calls and jeers came from the assembled men, at which Mugillanus stopped speaking and looked angrily into the assembled men, his face flushing as he called “gentlemen, the time for disagreement has ended” and turned back to his notes.
“Therefore, with the will of the gods in agreement, we, the men of this council, accept the statement of Publius Postumius and will add to the report that he has acted in good service for Rome and its people.” At this he looked up at Postumius and half-smiled before pressing the seal into the wax once more and turning and handing the tablet to the men sat beside him.
Postumius stood and nodded to the three Senators as he turned to face the sitting men to his right. Before he could speak a great shuffling started and the majority of the men rose, a babble of noise rising into the room as they started to file towards the exit, many of the men fanning themselves due to the heat as they stood.
Postumius looked aghast at the men flooding from the room. He had prepared a long speech which praised his friends as well as denouncing the plebeian Centurions and those he saw as political enemies, but the noise and the sudden exit of many of the Senators put away any ideas of his being able to say his piece. As he bit his lip in frustration he turned to see the furious face of Gaius Javenoli staring spitefully at him. With a tip of his head and a broad smile Postumius turned and walked towards the exit, avoiding another man who was bent double, red spots of blood appearing around his lips as his chest heaved into a long and noisy coughing fit.
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Chapter 17
Lucius Decius had spent years climbing to the top of the plebeian ranks, his position as Plebeian Tribune being the culmination of those years of hard work. He eyed the figure standing in front of him with trepidation, his pox-scarred face and the smell of urine coming from the man instantly marking him out as one of the capite censi, Rome’s lowest class of worker.
“It’s almost killed all of the slaves in the factory” the man repeated indignantly, almost as if Decius hadn’t heard him. “What are you going to do about it?” he asked, his voice angry but a measure of fear showing in his eyes. Decius glanced to Calvus, who was standing on his right. Calvus had brought the man to his morning meeting amidst a series of others who had the same complaint. Each man had lost friends, slaves or members of their families to some kind of illness, a pestilence which they said started with a deep cough and led to a fever and death within two days. Calvus stood impassively at Decius’s side and scowled. For days, he had badgered the Tribune with regard to the illness, which had grown out of all proportions within the last week, at last the Tribune seemed to be listening.
Decius clapped a hand on the shoulder of the man, a light dust rising from the thick woollen tunic as he did so. “Leave it with me” he said. “We will see if there is anyone who can send you some slaves while you purchase others for your tannery” he added as the man shook his head and sighed. Before the man could ask for compensation, as he had done three times in the past three minutes, Decius turned to Calvus and said, loudly “Calvus we need to take these concerns to the Senate immediately.”
Calvus smiled and motioned for the tannery owner to leave as a slave ushered him out, his mumbling complaints about compensation still ringing around the room. “The patricians won’t like this” he said to Decius as he watched the man leave.
“Hmm” came the non-committal response, one that Calvus was used to.
“Well, Marcus Manlius was right when he said, ‘not on my doorstep.’ He understands the workings of the patrician mind better than we do. You pay him a visit Lucius and I will arrange a meeting of the plebeian council and the Senatorial council. Manlius may have his faults but he does seem to be swayed towards our cause” he added with a smile.
“I agree Calvus” replied Decius. “This pestilence wouldn’t happen if Rome wasn’t filled with more scum every day. Each time I look from my door I see more beggars bringing more filth into our streets and more death on the road from bandits.” He shook his head. “If the council had listened to me and agreed to send men to Bolae as Rufus had said in his message we would be free of these patrician laws regarding our home. We would have control of our own destinies” he added with a glance around the room to check nobody was listening.
Calvus looked at his fellow plebeian, seeing the tight balls his fists made as the old anger welled up inside him. “We’ve discussed this over and over Lucius. We are making ground my friend. The patrician’s stranglehold on Rome weakens every day, the people will prevail, but I say it again” he said as he came closer to the younger Tribune “Rome will be the greatest city in the known world and we will be part of it. Setting up a new colony will bring greater problems for all of us. We stay, we
grow and we make Rome stronger by being the voice of the people.” He stopped to look directly into his friends eyes. “The Delphian portent was good my friend, remember” he smiled as his friend nodded his head.
“Yes, I know, I know” replied Decius. “When the people fall and the greatest of Rome re-takes the city the people will rise” he said mechanically as he shook his head “whatever that means.”
Calvus grinned. “I think it means more than you know my friend” he said, placing an arm around Decius. “Let me tell you a story I heard from an old soldier, a story about an eagle and a prophecy” he said as Decius cocked his head, a quizzical frown coming to his face.
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Chapter 18
“Veii again” Marcus said as he shook his head with an exasperated sigh. “It seems that whatever plots there are all start with Veii. First the price on my head and now these raiders harrying our rear” he said as Potitus and he left the camp prefects briefing. Under questioning the one remaining survivor of the attack on the baggage wagons had told how the raiders were from the city of Veii and were a mix of Veienteine and Volsci warriors hoping to catch stragglers on the road back to Rome and capture some easy loot from the Roman force. To his credit Sergius had set new pickets and sent scouts further afield, each scouting party consisting of four men, ‘safety in numbers’ he had said. Sergius had also been impressed with the Scorpions and had asked for a demonstration, which Potitus had been only too happy to agree to as Marcus frowned at him.
“It seems that way” Potitus agreed as Rufus caught up with the two men.
“Camillus” he asked as he walked alongside “I know it has been said many times” he started as he looked away into the distance “but we must do something about Veii. Your brother has the standing to raise it in the Senate and to take our complaints to them. Giving harbour to bandits, allowing and even condoning attacks on our roads” he shook his head angrily. “Sir, surely you would agree that we must send a deputation to them?” he asked as he came to a standstill at the intersection of two lines of tents within the camp. Marcus looked at Rufus, his straggly hair losing its colour.
The Fall of Veii- Part 1 Page 13