by Peake, R. W.
When he spoke, his tone was as weary as I had ever heard him, even in those dark days during our first campaign against Parthia.
“I understand you had a conversation with the queen.”
“Yes, sir.”
I saw no point in making things easy, and a look of irritation crossed his face.
“And?”
I recounted the conversation word for word, as I remembered it. When I was finished, he grunted before heaving a long sigh.
“That's exactly what I heard as well, just not from the queen.”
He gave me a look that could have either been a grimace or a smile, it was hard to tell which.
“You understand this puts me in an extremely awkward position.”
“I would imagine so, sir,” I agreed, still playing the role of the dim Legionary.
“Cleopatra shouldn't have spoken as she did,” he continued. “But you shouldn't have baited her.”
“Sir?”
I tried my very best to look surprised, but he was not buying what I was selling.
“You know exactly what I'm talking about, Pullus,” he snapped. “Don’t play the stupid Legionary with me. I’ve seen it too many times, and I know you too well. You knew exactly what you were doing. It’s just a pity she fell for it.”
“Truly sir, I didn't plan anything,” I replied, which was at least partially true.
I had let my temper get the better of my tongue and had no plan originally to try to make Cleopatra say something intemperate, but when the opportunity arose, I admit I took it.
“Your queen angered me with her slur against my honor, and I admit that I let my tongue get the better of me, but I was as surprised as anyone that she went as far as she did.”
Now, that last part was an outright lie, but I saw nothing to be gained by total honesty.
“Here in the East, men’s tongues have been cut out for much less of an offense than you gave to the queen,” he said coldly.
“Then it’s good that I'm a Roman citizen, and not one of her Eastern minions,” I immediately replied, inwardly wincing the moment the words left my mouth.
Titus, will you never learn? I wondered, but Antonius reacted in a completely different manner than I expected.
He threw back his head, roaring with laughter, slapping the table in obvious delight.
“No, you’re not, Pullus, I'll give you that. You are Roman through and through.”
I was absurdly pleased by the compliment, except as quickly as he had been full of mirth he turned serious again, reminding me how ever changeable this man really was.
“Still, you've put me in a really tight spot, or rather you and Cleopatra have. You know, she thought very highly of you, Pullus. She told me that during Caesar’s time in Alexandria you distinguished yourself under very difficult circumstances.”
I was not sure how to respond, so I said nothing. He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands, giving another one of his bone-weary sighs.
“I would ask you to forget all that she said, but I know that's both impossible and unrealistic. Who have you told of this?”
“No one, sir.”
“Liar,” he said, but it was in a genial tone as he shook his head. “I'm not going to order you, I'm asking you, Pullus, that whoever you told, you tell no others. I have my hands full at the moment, and I don’t need an army ready to mutiny because my queen can’t keep her mouth shut.”
“I won't tell anyone else, General. I give you my word.”
“Good. Unfortunately, I'm afraid some damage is done already, because the Praetorium seemed to be stuffed with clerks at the time. Fortunately, all but two of them were slaves or freedmen, but now I'm afraid I'll have to raid the Legions for qualified clerks, and it will take time for them to become versed in how things run here in the Praetorium, but that can’t be helped, I suppose. The Tribunes are another story, but I can deal with them. They're all ambitious young men, and the queen’s purse runs very, very deep.”
The shudder was involuntary, but it was very real as my mind struggled to fully understand the import of what Antonius had just said.
“You put the clerks to death?” I gasped.
He looked up, clearly surprised. I was relieved when he shook his head, but it was short-lived.
“Oh, I didn’t. Cleopatra did, moments after you left, before any of them could get out to make mischief by tattling on her. You know how slaves talk; they’re almost as bad as Legionaries. She used her Nubians for the job.”
I took a staggering step back, too shocked to speak. He mistook my clear distress, holding up a hand in a dismissive wave.
“Oh, don’t worry. You’re quite safe. I made sure that the queen understood the consequences of a Primus Pilus being murdered by her. In fact, I suppose I should thank you. I think the prospect of being torn to pieces by the army is more than enough to keep her tongue in check. The gods know I haven't been able to. And Pullus,” he finished grimly, “like it or not, the queen is here for the entire campaign. I won't send her away again as I did the last time. And she is co-commander, though I'll try to make sure that you deal only with me. It will be better for everyone that way.”
For the second time that day, I left the Praetorium on shaking legs.
“She did what???”
I imagine Scribonius’ expression matched mine when Antonius had told me. Returning to my quarters, I immediately told Diocles, knowing that he had friends among the clerks. He was still speechless from the news I had brought, sitting on a stool in the corner, facing the wall. I suspected he did not want me to see him crying, but it would not have mattered, for I felt much the same way. True, they were slaves, and I had seen much worse things done to slaves in front of my very eyes, yet to have their lives taken simply because they were in place doing their jobs, at the whim of Cleopatra, was a tragedy and an injustice.
Facing Scribonius, I waited for the shock to wear off; when he finally spoke, his tone was grim.
“This is worse than I thought. And you say Antonius will do nothing about it?”
I shook my head.
“He was very clear that she's not going anywhere. But he did promise me that I was safe from her, that the prospect of the men tearing her apart made me secure. He didn’t say it outright, but I got the very strong hint that he let her know that he'd tell the men if something happened to me.”
“I hope the threat is enough,” Scribonius mused. “Because if he's as lovesick and in her control as we think, I doubt seriously he'd make good on his threat.” That did not make me feel better, so he added hastily, “But as long as she believes that he will, then I think he’s right.”
“That’s an awfully thin shield to protect me.” I was made gloomy by Scribonius’ words, knowing that he was right.
“Not necessarily.” Scribonius put his hand on my arm, causing me to look up to see him staring at me earnestly. “Think about it this way. Cleopatra is one of those people who can only look at the world through her eyes. So she's going to think, ‘What would I do in this situation?’ Do you have any doubt that she'd throw Antonius to the dogs if it suited her purpose?”
I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head.
“No,” I admitted. “She would do it quick as Pan.”
“Exactly. And she's going to accept it as fact that Antonius would do the same, because that's what she'd do in his place.”
That made me feel a bit better, but not by much.
“What now?”
Scribonius considered, then shrugged.
“Nothing much to do at this point. Stay on our course. And watch your back.”
“I'll need help with that.” I hated to hear the words come out of my mouth, because it ran against every fiber of my body to ask for someone else’s aid in the matter of defending myself, but I had to sleep sometime.
“Balbus and I will take care of that. I’m sure we won’t have any trouble getting Vellusius and a few of the other old-timers to help.”
“That’s only part of it.”
Both Scribonius and I turned in surprise, for it was Diocles who had spoken from his spot in the corner. His mouth was set in a thin line, his chin up, the anger in his eyes something I had not seen often before.
“She’s Eastern. I doubt that she'll send a section of Nubians after you, or even a hired knife. She'll be more subtle than that. I'll check your bed every night for snakes.” He paused to think as I suppressed a shiver at the thought of finding a serpent in my bed. “We'll also make sure that we watch your meals being prepared and bring them to you ourselves and then we'll taste everything before you eat it.”
While I appreciated the gesture, I did not see the point.
“If you're watching my meals being cooked, and then bringing it to me, why taste it as well? That seems a little excessive.”
“Because that's the only way to be sure that the ingredients of the meal aren't poisoned,” he said quietly.
“Wait. Are you suggesting that she could poison a whole sack of grain that might be eaten by others just on the chance that it would poison me?”
“What do you think?” Scribonius asked quietly. “Do you think she would care if a few other men died to get to you?”
I had to admit that when he put it that way, it was hard to argue.
“And those are just the ways I can think of where you're vulnerable off the top of my head,” Diocles continued. “But these Easterners are incredibly imaginative when it comes to doing away with someone. When we were in Alexandria, the palace slaves filled my head with stories of the ways that the Ptolemies did each other in, and she not only grew up in that world, she's the only one to have survived. The rest are all dead, and a good number of them were at her direction.”
Scribonius paused to consider what Diocles was saying, thinking of a question. “Did you happen to hear how much she was willing to pay someone to dispatch a rival or threat?”
Diocles thought a moment. “I heard that she paid 10,000 sesterces to have one of her guard commanders killed by one of his own men.”
My stomach twisted in a knot as I let out a whistle. “If she’s willing to pay that much, one of my own men is likely to do me in.” I said it as a joke, but I was half-serious.
“You sell yourself too cheaply.” Scribonius patted my arm. “It would take 15,000 at least.”
I had to laugh, except it sounded hollow in my own ears, as Scribonius turned serious. “I think you have nothing to worry about from the men, if only because they hate Cleopatra as much as you do. And for every man who'd be willing to take the money, that’s not enough for him to drop off the face of the Earth, because there'd be ten who would hunt him down and gut him like a fish.”
It was nice to hear the words, but I fervently hoped that Scribonius was right. My thoughts turned to Miriam, whatever comfort I had been feeling evaporating in a wave of icy fear.
As if reading my thoughts, Scribonius said, “We'll put Vellusius in charge of guarding Miriam, and of course what Diocles will do with your food will protect her.”
“Send for him now,” I commanded Diocles, who jumped up and ran out of the office.
No matter how disturbing the thought about my own safety was, it was nothing compared to the fear I felt for Miriam. It was a completely helpless feeling knowing that the richest, most powerful woman in the world would likely stop at nothing to do me harm, and would view Miriam as a way to strike at me. I could easily imagine Cleopatra’s minions worming about to find out how attached to Miriam I was, then how the queen would view that as a perfect way to hurt me, and I felt the tremors return to my legs.
How do I get myself into these messes? I thought to myself as we waited for Diocles to return with Vellusius. Too many times in my career I had let the combination of my temper and my tongue get me into situations where I aroused the hatred and anger of people more politically powerful than I was, or would ever be. I thought of Lepidus, which in turn reminded me of Octavian’s dark gift, one with a powerful cord attached to it that he could yank at any time, feeling in my bones that the time was coming when I would feel the tug. It certainly helped that all this turmoil was taking place with Antonius and Cleopatra, making the decision easier, yet I knew that I was fooling myself with the thought that I had any choice in the matter. Diocles returned, interrupting my musing, with Vellusius, whose wrinkled, leathery face was pinched in obvious worry. When my eyes fell on my old comrade, I was struck by how old he looked, making me wonder if I looked the same, careworn and creased by wind and weather. He was a few years older than I was, but not by that much, and I consoled myself with the thought that at least I still had all of my teeth, despite the fact that they were giving me more trouble by the day.
“I told Vellusius that you needed him for a special assignment, but I thought I'd let you tell him why,” Diocles said as soon as Vellusius rendered his salute.
I quickly explained to him the situation, leaving nothing out, not feeling that it was right to send him to guard Miriam without knowing why. If it had been one of the newer men, I would have been less forthcoming, but I knew and trusted Vellusius as I did few others in the Legion. His face turned grim, and I recognized the look of determination on his face as the same he had before going into battle. I was thankful that it was this man who would watch over the woman I loved. Reaching for a tablet to scratch a quick note to Miriam, I suddenly remembered she could not read our words. Instead, I wrote out the symbols that she said made up my name in her language so that she would know it came from me, then sent Vellusius on his way.
Before he left, he paused at the door. “Primus Pilus, I'd like to take a couple of men with me. Is that all right?”
I thought about it, then nodded. “Only men that you trust with your life,” I added, which he answered with a grin.
“I wouldn’t bring anyone other than them, Primus Pilus. This old dog has lived too long to throw it away now.”
Then he left, and that act made me feel a bit better.
Scribonius and Balbus walked with me out of camp to my apartment, where Vellusius was standing guard, along with one other old veteran named Kaeso. Their presence drew curious glances from passersby, but Legionaries were crawling all over Ephesus, so it was only passing on the part of the civilians.
I frowned at the sight of just two men. “I thought you wanted two other men.”
Vellusius saluted, giving me a toothless grin. “Oh, Primus Pilus. You don’t think that I'd let some nosy bastard see exactly how many men are guarding the lady, do you? In fact, I’ve got Herennius and Cornelius tucked away out of sight. One of them’s watching the back of the building, and the other one…..well, I'd prefer to keep that secret. If you don’t mind, sir.”
“If either Herennius or Cornelius doesn’t mind me running my sword through their guts because they surprise me, then no, I don’t mind at all,” I said pleasantly.
Vellusius’ face fell as he realized the flaw in his plan; deep thinking had never been one of his strong points. “Oh. Yes, sir. Completely see your point. Well, I have Cornelius out back, and Herennius is up on the roof. We were poking around, you know, scouting the lay of the land and he found a hatch on the roof that leads into a crawl space. A sneaky bastard could use that to get into the building easy like, and we don’t want that. So he’s camped out up top.”
I commended Vellusius for his thoroughness, asking what seemed to me to be an obvious question, only to see that this was another point Vellusius had forgotten to consider.
“Who's going to relieve you? I can’t expect you boys to stay out here through every watch. You need to eat and rest sometime.”
“Oh.”
His voice was very small, and he looked down at the ground, clearly ashamed.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “That’s all right, Vellusius. I'll take care of the relief.” I turned to Scribonius, saying quietly, “When you go back to camp, fetch Gaius. Have him pick the same number of men that he trusts with his life.”
/> Scribonius looked at me with some surprise. “You really want Gaius for this? That’s a lot of responsibility for a young man.”
I shrugged. “You clearly believed him capable of being a Sergeant. I trust your judgment. And I know that Gaius loves Miriam well. He'd rather die than let anything happen to her.”
“It won’t come to that,” he assured me.
“I hope not.”
Even as I was deciding that Gaius would be involved in this, I cursed Cleopatra for putting me in a position of putting one person I loved at risk to protect another, but I had watched Gaius since his promotion, and I saw that he was more than just a good Legionary, that he had the potential to be a real leader. It was time I stopped protecting him and started to trust in his abilities and training, and this was as good a time as any to start that, even while it did not make me feel very good in doing so. I also realized that there would never be the perfect time, that there would always be a nagging doubt in the back of my mind as I wondered if the situation was the right one in which to expose him to greater danger. Balbus had said nothing this whole time, and I wondered what was going through his mind as he stood, slightly apart from us, watching the street. Sensing that he had something to say, I decided to try and find out what it was.