The Blood of Rome

by Simon Scarrow

‘I have been told you were coming, yes. And that you have been tasked with restoring Armenia to Roman control. But I have not been appraised of the precise scope of your authority in this region.’

  ‘No? I find that something of a surprise. But never mind, all will be clear once we have had the chance to discuss the situation at my headquarters. I have arranged for food and refreshments for you and your retinue. And accommodation. Tribune Cato! Dismiss your men, and escort the governor’s party to headquarters.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Corbulo nodded and then turned back to the governor. ‘Come.’

  Without a further word he indicated the narrow stairs at the end of the platform, leading down to the main street that ran from the quay to the Forum, where the opulent merchant’s house that served as the general’s headquarters dominated the markets arrayed around the Forum. Corbulo’s staff officers and clerks hurried after him while Cato returned to the square and cupped a hand to his mouth. ‘Centurion Macro! Dismiss the cohort!’

  ‘Yes, sir!’

  Macro turned and called the men to attention, and then gave the order to fall out, and in an instant the neatly ordered ranks broke into clusters of men shouldering their spears as they ambled across the square. Cato turned to the governor’s party. Behind the lictors stood a group of officers and men in togas together with a handful of men in flowing robes. One stood a head taller than his companions. Powerfully built with a light-brown beard and dark hair, he stood with folded arms, feet braced apart as he watched the departing guardsmen with a shrewd eye.

  ‘I’m Tribune Quintus Licinius Cato, commander of the general’s escort.’

  One of the toga-clad men stepped forward and bowed his head just enough to be polite, but not enough to imply that he regarded Cato as an equal. ‘Gaius Amatus Pinto, quaestor.’

  ‘If you and your companions would follow me, sir,’ Cato said politely and gestured towards the street at the corner of the temple. Pinto fell into step beside him as they set off.

  ‘I trust your voyage was pleasant,’ said Cato, by way of opening a conversation, trying not to be put off by the quaestor’s disdain of a moment ago.

  ‘As pleasant as any trip by sea can be. I don’t find ships agreeable,’ Pinto said with feeling. ‘The motion of the deck under one’s feet is rather upsetting to the stomach, not to make too fine a point of it.’

  Cato felt his heart warm with sympathy towards the man. He suffered terribly from sea-sickness himself and spent most of the time on any voyage leaning over a side rail, waiting for the next bout of vomiting and retching to rack his slender frame.

  ‘Still have your sea legs?’

  Pinto hesitated and then nodded. ‘Feels like I’ve had rather more wine than is good for me.’

  ‘Is such a thing possible?’

  They glanced at each other and shared a quick laugh, grateful for the chance to relieve themselves of the formal prickliness of first meeting. They turned the corner and saw Corbulo’s party fifty paces ahead of them.

  ‘So, Corbulo’s been sent to tame the Parthians,’ said Pinto. ‘The best general in the entire army, I’ve been told.’

  Cato pursed his lips. There were other fine commanders, but none with the length of experience and run of success of Corbulo.

  ‘What do you make of him?’ Pinto continued in a confidential tone.

  ‘Too early to say with any certainty. I’ve not served under him before. But he seems confident. And he speaks directly to the issues at hand.’

  ‘Which is why he has succeeded as a soldier rather than a politician.’

  ‘Suits me. If we go up against Parthia, I’d rather be led by a man who knows how to face the enemy with a sword in his hand.’

  ‘Rather than knowing how to wield a dagger and plant it in someone’s back, eh?’

  Cato glanced sidelong and saw that Pinto was grinning at him. ‘Tribune, believe me, I know the difference between both types well enough. And Corbulo’s military credentials are unimpeachable. Rest easy. You and your men are in good hands.’

  ‘Glad to hear it . . . I dare say that your governor does not hold Corbulo in the same high regard.’

  ‘Can you blame him? He was the most powerful official in the eastern Empire. Four legions under his direct command and scores of auxiliary units. Making a fortune from the sale of tax collection contracts. All until Corbulo pitched up. Quadratus is not used to playing the minor role. Especially when he feels he is the obvious choice to deal with Parthia. He knows the region. He knows the local rulers and he feels the job should have been his. Quite understandable, really.’

  Cato shrugged. ‘What can I say? Nero made the appointment and sent Corbulo east. There’s nothing left to be done but obey the orders. That goes for all of us.’

  ‘I take it you were chosen for this role because you prefer to be a soldier and not a politician, like your general?’

  ‘I didn’t have a choice. My cohort was assigned to escort the general. Besides, I’m not a patrician. I don’t get to play with the politicians.’

  ‘Really?’

  Cato was acutely conscious that he was being appraised by the other man, who was waiting for an explanation in lieu of having to pose pointed questions about Cato’s background. That his father had once been a slave, and he himself had spent his childhood as a slave, was no source of shame for Cato. He was proud of his achievements. He had risen into the ranks of the equites, the second-highest class of Roman citizenry, purely by his own efforts. Few aristocrats could say the same. Of course, thanks to his lowly origins, he would never be admitted to the Senate. The pinnacle of his career, if he survived long enough and won the favour of the emperor, would be the post of Prefect of Egypt. That was the most senior post any member of the equites could aspire to. However, it was so unlikely that Cato rarely allowed himself to imagine such a prospect.

  ‘Quintus Licinius Cato? I’m sure I’ve heard your name spoken when I was last in Rome a few years back.’

  The opportunity to mention his achievements lay before him, but Cato refused to permit himself to boast. Instead he allowed himself the lesser victory of frustrating Pinto’s curiosity, and glanced back over his shoulder at the group following them, and his gaze was again caught by the tall figure dressed in robes of the east.

  ‘Who’s the big man?’

  ‘Him? Why, he’s the reason we’re all here and Parthia and Rome are at each other’s throats again.’

  ‘Oh?’ Cato prompted.

  ‘His name is Rhadamistus. Prince Rhadamistus. Heir to the throne of Iberia, a territory that borders Armenia. Only he was a bit impatient to inherit. So his father packed him off to Armenia at the head of an army so he could find his own kingdom to rule. Saved the old man the job of doing him in before he struck first. So he pitches up in Armenia, bribes the commander of the Roman garrison to hand over the previous king, butchers the entire royal family, and grabs the throne for himself. To make matters worse, the Roman governor of neighbouring Bithynia recognised his sovereignty without first referring the matter to Rome, which then made Rhadamistus our man.’

  ‘So he’s a liability, then?’

  Pinto raised his hand and rocked the palm from side to side. ‘He’s a brave enough fellow, and strong with it, and his soldiers love him. Unfortunately, not enough of his subjects did, and they were happy to invite the Parthians in to kick him out. Only to discover that the Parthian replacement was almost as bad. Now we’ve got to put Rhadamistus back on the throne and make sure he stays there.’

  Cato thought for a moment. ‘There’s no other candidate?’

  ‘Not at the moment. It’s down to our boy or the Parthian lad, Tiridates.’ Pinto clicked his tongue. ‘Can’t say I envy the Armenians.’

  ‘I’m sure that many foreigners regard Rome with similar sentiments, given some of the emperors we’ve had . . .’ Cato coughed and continued quickly. ‘Although I’m confident that Nero will turn out fine.’

  ‘I’m sure he will.’

&
nbsp; A short distance ahead the street opened out on to the Forum, burnished by the late-afternoon sunshine. Some of the traders were already packing up their stalls, but the main square was still bustling and the air was filled with the cries of tradesmen cutting above the hubbub of conversation and the clatter of hammers of metalsmiths. Directly opposite rose the columned facade of the merchant’s house. It was built on a large scale and with such ostentation as to cause even the crassest of wealthy Romans to wince. A squad of Praetorians stood guard at the entrance and snapped to attention as Corbulo and Quadratus approached.

  ‘I imagine you could use something to drink after your voyage,’ said Cato.

  ‘Too right. Be nice to have something to eat as well. And be sure that it’ll stay down.’

  Pinto picked up his pace and Cato lengthened his stride to stay at his side. Although the thought of a decent feast was welcome, the prospect of the tense meeting between his commander and the governor that would follow was not. With Parthia gathering its strength to hurl itself against the Roman frontier, now was not the time for Rome’s leaders in the region to engage in a pissing contest to win glory and honour for themselves, Cato reflected. Not when so much was at stake. When empires clashed, victory was sure to go to the side that was not riven by division and competing ambition.

  As they reached the entrance, Cato’s chest heaved with frustration as he prepared himself for the coming encounter within the general’s opulent quarters.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Corbulo allowed his guests to drink and eat their fill before he called on the governor of Syria to join him in the merchant’s study, which he had chosen to use as his office. Quadratus insisted on bringing Pinto with him.

  ‘Very well, since you are insisting on witnesses . . .’

  Quadratus shook his head. ‘It’s not that, my dear Corbulo. Of course I trust you, but I have reached an age when it is best to have an aide present, in case one loses track of details.’

  Corbulo stared at him coldly before he rejoined: ‘How wise. Then I shall do the same.’

  He glanced round and raised his voice. ‘Tribune Cato! Join us, please.’

  Cato had been watching the by-play from the other side of the banqueting table that ran down the length of the main hall, and set down the seeded bun he had been eating absent-mindedly and made his way round to the others. Corbulo led them out of the hall, across a corridor and into his office, and closed the door behind them. The room was comfortably sized and there was plenty of space for the campaign desk set up for the general’s scribes in addition to several cushioned stools used for briefings of his staff officers. A large window overlooked the garden in the centre of the house and a faint breeze stirred the fine material of the curtains on either side.

  ‘Sit down, gentlemen,’ Corbulo ordered and then, as the others eased themselves on to the stools, he remained standing, looking down on them. A neat ploy, Cato noted. The general had established his authority over Quadratus once again. And now he moved smartly on to addressing the governor as if he were a junior officer.

  ‘Why did you not act upon my summons as soon as you received it? We’ve lost nearly a month when we should have been preparing for the campaign.’

  ‘I came as quickly as I could. But there were matters that had to be attended to before I could leave Antioch. Syria is a large province, General. Its governance is complicated.’

  ‘I don’t require any lectures on administration, thank you. I summoned you to meet me here at once. Not at your leisure. In future, I expect a more timely response to any instructions I give you.’

  Quadratus’s expression became strained. ‘You have no right to speak to me like that. I am a senator, as you are. I hold the governorship of one of the most prestigious provinces in the Empire. Indeed, thanks to my exemplary service, I have held the post for many years more than the previous incumbent.’

  ‘That may change very soon,’ Corbulo cut in. ‘I dare say that if I reported that I considered it necessary to replace you, then Nero would readily agree. Of course, I hope that I will not have to. I’d rather make use of your extensive experience and contacts, as long as they are useful in planning and executing the campaign against Parthia.’

  The governor could control his patience no longer and he stood abruptly. ‘You go too far! By what authority do you act in such a high-handed manner? I have a good mind to report back to Rome myself and demand that you be recalled. I am certain that I can handle those Parthians myself, without any help from some soldier who has spent almost his entire career skulking around the forests of Germania . . .’

  Cato watched his commander’s face closely but saw not even a flicker of a reaction to the outburst. Instead, Corbulo calmly picked up a scroll from his desk and opened it out for Quadratus to see.

  ‘There is my authority. Sealed with the imperial ring. “Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo is empowered to act in my name in all matters civil and military within the extent of, and including, the provinces stretching between Cappadocia and Judaea. I require all officials, regardless of rank, to obey his instructions as they would mine, on pain of being recalled to Rome to face charges of misconduct in public office, or treason, whichever is deemed appropriate to the individuals concerned.” So, it seems that you have been placed under my direct command, Quadratus.’

  The governor read, and then re-read, the imperial authority with a stony face before he clenched his jaw, nodded and resumed his seat. Corbulo turned to Pinto.

  ‘Since the governor has had the foresight to insist on your presence, I require you to state that you have witnessed his reading and comprehension of the imperial authority. Do you agree?’

  Pinto glanced at Quadratus for direction but the latter was staring directly ahead and gave him no sign. Pinto swallowed and nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And you, Tribune Cato. For the record.’

  ‘I bear witness to that, sir.’

  ‘Good. Then that’s settled.’

  Corbulo reached for a waxed slate on his desk and glanced over it before he continued. ‘The first step will be to prepare our military effort. I will need up-to-date strength returns of every unit stationed within the provinces under my command, starting with Syria, since that is where most of them are concentrated. I want them as soon as possible. No further delays or excuses. Is that clear?’

  ‘Perfectly clear,’ Quadratus confirmed tightly.

  ‘The backbone of my army will be the legions. You have four under your command based in Syria?’

  Quadratus nodded. ‘That’s right. The Tenth, Twelfth, Third and Sixth. As soon as I received word of Nero’s decision I moved some units to Bactris, on the Euphrates, to guard against Parthian raiders attempting to cross there.’

  ‘A sensible precaution. Now, what of your other forces? Auxiliaries?’

  ‘Eight infantry cohorts, but they’re mostly dispersed in city and town garrisons across the province. Some are in forward outposts.’

  ‘What about cavalry?’

  ‘Five cohorts. Mostly on patrol duty.’

  Corbulo did a quick estimate. ‘Some twenty-six thousand men in all, then?’

  ‘If they were all at full strength. I would be surprised if they numbered more than fifteen thousand as things stand.’

  Corbulo made a note on his waxed tablet before he continued. ‘Any special units? Archers, slingers?’

  ‘One of the cohorts is from the Balearics. Slingers.’

  The general made some more notes and then looked up again. ‘So, as far as the legions go, which are the best?’

  Quadratus paused before speaking and Cato saw a calculating look flit across his face for a moment. Then he shrugged as he replied: ‘Oh, there’s nothing much to choose between them. Of course, none of them have been in action for a long time. Aside from the odd punitive raid, or crowd control when things get out of hand at the chariot races. The only men with any campaigns under their belts are those who have transferred in from other legions. I’m sure they will p
erform well enough when called on to fight.’

  ‘Hmmm, we’ll see about that. As for their quality, from my own enquiries it seems that the Tenth and the Twelfth are in poor shape. So I’ll be leaving those under your command for now. The other two I’ll be taking under my direct command immediately, together with most of your auxiliaries. They are to march for Bactris the moment you return to Syria. I’ll make sure you have their orders in writing before you leave us.’

  Quadratus exchanged an anxious look with Pinto before he shook his head. ‘But that will leave Syria open to attack. I barely have enough men to defend the province and keep the locals in line as it is.’

  ‘That’s nonsense, and you know it. There have always been far more troops than are required to maintain order. The legions are there to deter Parthia and to form the backbone of any army required to launch a campaign against the enemy. Now it’s time for them to be put to use, and you will have more than enough left to hold Syria down. Besides, I am regarding the Tenth and Twelfth as my reserve, and it is more than likely I will be calling on them for replacements when the campaign gets under way. I may even require them to join the main army if the situation demands it. I would advise you to prepare your province for that contingency.’

  ‘I protest!’

  ‘Protest all you like. Put it in writing if that makes you feel better. You can protest directly to the emperor if you wish. But given that my orders come directly from him, Nero may not appreciate having them called into question.’

  Cato tried to hide his amusement as he watched Quadratus blanch and struggle to find any effective solution to his predicament. Corbulo gave him a moment to reflect before he continued. ‘I am sure you will give me your full support for the duration of the conflict with Parthia. In turn I will be sure to keep you informed of any significant developments, and will confer with you regularly on the best way to proceed. Subject to my orders and the authority conferred on me.’

  If it was meant as a sop of comfort then it had little effect, thought Cato as he regarded the governor’s stony expression. It was more than likely that Quadratus would abide by the terms of Corbulo’s authority to the absolute minimum, and would use back channels to his friends and allies in Rome to undermine his rival. To be fair, Cato mused, Corbulo would be sure to do the same. Even a successful general could not count on his indispensability and was obliged to play politics to cover his back.