The Oath Keeper

by Alaric Longward

  I nodded. “You are both. And more. Why?”

  “Why?” he asked. “Have you been betrayed, tortured in body and mind, and dismissed by your whole family, since when you could understand them?”

  I nodded. “I have.”

  He hesitated and then ignored my words. “There has always been this shadow of Claudius hanging over the family. When I was born, my father thought I was a punishment for him. For following—”

  “Octavian, who harmed his father and the Republic,” I said. “I know. And then, hating everyone, you saw how they struggled between Republic and the tyrants, and decided the only way for you to find revenge and satisfaction, was to let soldiers rule. You would give the blood, and they the power, and you would be happy to see Rome changed so. Last of the Princeps, true rulers, eh?”

  He looked so happy. “You understand perfectly. I sought answers, you know, from all the gods. Agrippina even took me to that Kemsit, where much of this trouble began. But gods don’t have answers. Soldiers do. I tried not to poison Tiberius, but Sejanus. Then, when I saw how you schemed against Sejanus, we helped you. Did you know Kemsit told Cassius all about us that terrible day Livia died? Of Gaius and me? He kept it hidden, though she almost told Sejanus directly later. She realized she could not trust the soldiers that something was wrong. She was a clever girl.”

  “She was.”

  He nodded happily. “You did your duty, my friend. You killed all of them. All those high and mighty snobs in the Senate, and Agrippina, and her kin, and all save for Gaius. Tiberius, Livia…” He shook his head and then looked sad. “I thought it would have been appropriate for you to die with Tiberius. Cassius would have taken over. Gaius would have died. But at least we could kill Antonia, mother, finally. And the brat. There is still time. Gaius has actually made it easier for the soldiers to take over. You have.”

  I stared at the creature.

  The same madness that plagued Gaius, I was sure, was in this one too.

  And then I decided Drusus had been right to think the birth of Claudius had been a plague on Rome, and his cause to change things had been noble and just.

  I held my face as I watched him. “Why did you kill Drusilla? Is there a cup of wine with a spider there in her room?”

  He looked at his hands. “I saw you there, with Macro. I realized you had changed. That you would try to change things. So Cassius were to kill you, and I decided to make sure Drusilla and her kin couldn’t escape. See, if they did, with or without you, I would always have to look behind my shoulder after I take over. I just want a happy, calm life, Hraban.”

  “You bastard,” I snarled. “You are just like Gaius.”

  “You should have died so many times,” he said softly. “I knew you were truly the messenger of the gods when you didn’t. And now, my only friend Cassius is near the gods. I hope I can nurse him back to health.”

  “You forget,” I said, “that you will die here today. You may walk with him to Helheim.”

  His eyes grew as large as plates.

  “You spider,” I told him. “No. I shall let you learn what I have learned. You and Cassius take over, if you can. You do that. But dear Claudius; you shall never be at peace. You will never enjoy life. Remember, you will trust someone. And that someone, be it a wife or Cassius, will eventually stand over you like this. Your father was a far better man than you, and your mother knew what you were. It was just she hated you.”

  I watched him shivering with a hurt face, and as he wept, I got up.

  He watched me go and shivering, he wept after me. “I shall rule well, Hraban. With the soldiers, I shall rule very well. I will make a dynasty of what my father would be proud of, and my mother as well. And you? I shall find you, and I will make sure nobody will ever remember you.”

  I turned to look at him.

  “I shall make sure,” I said, “that Germania at least will have a drop of brave blood left, and that that blood shall hate Rome enough to come here one day, hundreds of years from now, if not sooner, with swords and vengeance. Farewell, fool.”

  I left him and rode north with another bag of gold and wept for poor Drusilla.

  I had finally had my vengeance.

  But I realized that the truth, the reasons behind all of it, were even more important.

  And all it had cost me was everything. I had spent my life on it and taken hundreds.

  Woden had seen me through the battles, and Lok led me down a darker path to the root of all evil. I could see it now.

  I was nearly done. The gods were tired.

  Now, I could give one life back.

  CHAPTER 23 (A.D. 40, Martius 1st)

  Flavus was looking at me with an odd expression. He was still serving the legions of Germania in various nefarious roles. Now on leave in his home in Ravenna, he was at a loss for words.

  Then he spoke, and he was not happy.

  “The Raven of Rome,” he murmured. “Do you know what would happen if they found you here? They are still seeking you.”

  I smiled tiredly. “They would rip you apart limb by limb. And your family.”

  He pointed a finger at me. “Indeed. Yes. Limb by limb, but not first. Last. My family goes first, and I get to watch. I hear Gaius is very inventive these days.”

  I could not deny that. “He has taken up his godhood fully. Ever since he was sick, and I mocked him as a mortal, he has changed.”

  He shook his head. “That was unwise.”

  I snorted. “They say he likes to play one of the gods in the Temple of Pollux and Castor. He dances around the temple and speaks to the gods as Mercury. People must bow. He calls himself Neos Helios, the New Sun.” I shook my head. “He is waging war on the Jews in Jerusalem. He intends to place a statue of himself in their temple. He will call their temple the Temple of Illustrious Gaius. They are the only people who cheer his mistakes and failures. He hates them.”

  We both shook our heads.

  We knew Jerusalem very well. “I hope,” Flavus said miserably, “they will not go to war. I don’t want to go there.”

  “They say they will,” I said.

  He smiled tiredly. “They say a lot of things. I know some other things. Soldiers speak.”

  “Yes?”

  “Mauretania?” he said softly. “He killed Ptolemy of Mauretania in Rome, after he invited him there. Then he took the land. Did you know what he asked for?”

  “For me?”

  “For you,” he said. “There are men saying you have been seen there. There are people saying you are in Albion. That is why he travelled to Gaul and went to the coast. Adminus, a Celt king fled to him from the Catuvellauni, claiming you were there, and he would tell Gaius all in return for a sanctuary. He is in Rome now, Adminus.” Flavus laughed. “I met him once. A worm of first order.”

  “He is seeking me,” I said. “And at the same time, he is making war to escape Rome. Ever since his sisters and Longinus failed to kill him last year, others have been taking over the mantel of tyrant killer. Vincius, soldiers.” I smiled. “Too bad for the two sisters. They are in exile still?”

  He nodded. “They tried again,” Flavus said. “Soldiers, I mean, not the sisters. Legate of some northern legion dabbled in treason. Gaius now fears the Praetorian Guard. He has Germani Guards again. Imagine. His new wife, as greedy and mad as he is…Caesonia?”

  “Aye,” I said. “Caesonia and Julia Drusilla, their daughter are guarded by brutes like you and I.”

  He laughed and shook his head at me. “We are very comfortable with each other, are we not?”

  I leaned forward. “Had I not agreed to go to Rome, that day long ago, would you have killed me, like Tiberius told you to?”

  He stared at me. He played with a cup. “I obey the Princeps. But I do not know. I knew you were coming to Rome.”

  I accepted that.

  And I leaned back and watched his fine house.

  There, flowers were planted in pots, and herbs smelled in the evening air. His wife and childre
n were not there, to avoid seeing us together. “You asked your brother to find me,” he said.

  I shrugged.

  “He found me in Albion,” he said. “That is dedication. I should tell you more about it, one day. I doubt we have truly forgiven each other yet, though.”

  I looked down at my cup. “I truly do not know, these days, how I could blame you for anything after what I have done. Years of lies. I lost everyone.”

  He mulled his wine. “Gernot. Gochan. Wandal. Tudrus…”

  “All,” I said. “Everyone, and many more you never heard of.”

  “Gernot is dead?” he asked.

  “I saw him,” I said. “He died.”

  He hummed. “Gochan has a house in the city or Ravenna. I see him occasionally. He is apparently the crime lord of Ravenna, and many other cities. Dabbles in everything. Your brother sold wine and wheat, and had lots of taverns, but they have changed direction, I think.”

  “Oh?” I said. “I am happy if he is.”

  “Really?” he wondered. “Not bitter.”

  “Not,” I said. “Not truly. How could I be?”

  “I have soldiers,” he said. “Old hands. Speculatores, both former and current. Some forty men I take to various jobs for the legates and Rome. They occasionally see Gochan in his house. They tell me there is an old, fat man, the size of a mountain. That he is out there, with a family.”

  I grunted. “As I said, good for him.”

  “Now, some of them tell me he is often away, travels and lives elsewhere, that he has almost adult sons, and that he is a moderate looking man, in a moderate tunic, and his hand is always hidden.”

  I stared at him.

  He shrugged. “Don’t go looking for him. I suppose they decided you have gone too far. I think they warned you. What would you do, if you saw someone so obsessed with blood, he never asked you what you need?”

  I looked down.

  He was right.

  But was Gernot alive?

  The bastard.

  He smiled. “I suppose you never checked his body? Stop sulking. They warned you, didn’t they? That there are limits. Not because they do not wish to help you, but because of what you were doing. You ruined Rome. Few would help you. But take solace in the fact your brother might not be dead.”

  I closed my eyes.

  He could be lying, to make me happier.

  In truth, I was not. I had hidden in the mountains, with a bag of gold, and a horse, and from there, I had watched and sent messages.

  Flavus had finally come home.

  He glowered at me. “Are you telling me,” he asked, “that you need help?”

  “I need to fulfill an oath,” I told him. “Something I must do. Something to give back.”

  He frowned. “He is a terrible enemy of Rome. Thumelicus knows who he is. Men in that ludus keep telling him about Armin. Many were in Germania.”

  Ludus.

  “He who fights,” Flavus said. “That’s the name. And it is a miracle that Gaius hasn’t thought of him yet.” He winked. “Except he has. That ludus is filled with soldiers. Though I am not sure they are there for Gaius, but commanded by someone else.”

  More unwelcome news.

  Cassius lived? Surely he was now the prefect.

  “What do you expect of me?” he asked. “That I go and fetch him?”

  “He is your brother’s son,” I said. “We both did what we did to him. But…”

  He shook his head. “I served Tiberius.”

  “But do you,” I wondered, “serve Gaius?”

  He closed his mouth. Then he spoke very softly. “It is not so simple. I have oaths, but you know, oaths…”

  “Oaths,” I told him and saluted him. “I broke mine, you yours, and now we could make amends. As long as Armin’s boy goes free, we have done something right.”

  “My own boy,” he told me sternly, “may one day be called to rule the Cherusci for Rome. Thumelicus might very well be a problem for him, if he goes home, and proves to be anything like Armin was.”

  “I could take him away to safety,” I told him. “To some land far from here. I could keep him safe there and give him a home. We don’t lack funds.”

  I tapped the large bag filled with gold.

  He hummed with envy. “It seems setting Rome on fire is a lucrative business.” He eyed me carefully. “There are a hundred soldiers inside there. My men have seen them, and they are keeping out of sight. The gladiators might be gone.”

  “Is he there?” I asked.

  He sighed. “He is. They have seen him. You know; he looks a lot like Armin.”

  I nodded.

  He snarled. “And I will not go there. My family is important.” He shook his head. “Do you hear me? The ludus is like a castra. It was, once. How many men do you have? How many can you trust?”

  I swiped the bag. “I called for Wandal and Tudrus. For some former gladiators I knew. I sent Agamemnon a note, and I am sure he knows where Gochan is. Or Gernot. I cannot believe…” I rubbed my face and nodded. “Apparently, I am the only one who doesn’t know where they are. All hiding from me.”

  “Do you think that is fair?” he said thinly. “They might even have died by now. They are all grandfathers. We are!”

  “They could very well be dead.” I shook my head. “They haven’t come.”

  “You have no men,” he said. “None. I have no men I can command to attack a ludus. They are soldiers.”

  “Most are Germani,” I told him.

  “Most are Roman Germani!” he said loudly. He placed a cup on the table, and I saw it was trembling. “I know no men like this.”

  “Gochan might have men,” I said. “Criminal that he is, he will have followers. That’s what he is, right?”

  He scowled. “I could ask, I suppose.”

  “Just how much do you work with them?” I asked.

  He looked at his wine cup sheepishly. “I give him information on what ships are lucrative,” he answered. “I know not how they go about robbing these ships…”

  “They hire pirates?” I asked, astonished.

  He shook his head. “I shall ask. Don’t expect an answer.”

  I leaned forward. “I shall be in my hut. You know where it is. I shall go in to that ludus alone, if I must. And I shall go in in a week’s time. As to why? Because we have killed so many, and we are alive, and our families are mostly alive, and we have made many mistakes. Because at the end of the road, we could save one, and let that one have a family of his own, and so we could be better than we ever were. You and I betrayed Armin.”

  I got up and gave him my hand.

  He had been my enemy. Still was, in many other situations. He spoke to me with a neutral tone. “I shall ask a slave to show you where he is. It is in the swamps, a forlorn place. And I shall ask.”

  He leaned forward and grasped my arm, and then I left with his slave.

  ***

  Watching the building left me bereft of hope.

  The walls around it were made of stone. The gates were wooden and reinforced with steel. The gateway was topped by an odd, fat tower, and there were men on that tower.

  It had been a ludus.

  It had also once been a permanent camp of not a legion, but perhaps only of a cohort.

  The walls were ten feet tall. They were in good repair.

  There were no gladiators there now. It was a prison.

  And a trap.

  Only near the gates, ten feet from it to the right, were there some cracks in the wall, an old damage to the surface, and there one might scale it.

  I hesitated and turned away.

  ***

  At the end of the week, I was preparing.

  I had seen the ludus.

  I had my weapons, and I had rope, and horses hidden near the castra. I had food, and I had made my plans, as well as they could be made.

  The plan was to go in at night, and get out with Thumelicus.

  There was no other plan.

  I p
repared by praying to Woden, and for a change, after a long while, I felt he was listening to me, rather than Lok. Unhappiness, and lack of sleep were my bane from then on, and Drusilla’s face, the tears of Tiberius Gemellus, and the misery of so many others would be my burden to bear, but at least I felt…hope.

  Like Drusilla had, in the darkest, terrible place, I felt hope.

  Hope is a strange thing. It is born of nothing.

  And often it breeds victory. Or a change.

  When I prayed, the doorway opened.

  At first, I thought it were Gaius’s men.

  Or Cassius.

  Then, I saw it was a one-handed man.

  I watched him, as he hesitated, and then he entered. He watched me from the doorway, and I bowed my head to Gernot.

  “You didn’t really have to come here,” he said. “You found your answers and got tired of blood?”

  “Yes,” I told him. “I could have kept going, I suppose.”

  “You are tired?” he asked me, astonished. “Is my brother finally changing, like I changed on the day I spared your daughter? It took you forty years longer.”

  I smiled as he walked in, chainmail jingling. “I don’t know, brother. I just do not know. But I am trying. I am hopeful.”

  He sat down, and I watched the doorway. Outside, many men were dismounting.

  “I…” he began. “I am sorry. I was simply wounded. I saw an opportunity to hide away. I was afraid that you would reach out again, and I could not say ‘no.’ I am weak with you. I owe you all this wealth and my life. But I chose to deceive you, for you had failed to keep us safe, despite all.”

  I said nothing. I just smiled.

  He scratched his neck. “It was cruel. But then again, no crueler than what you are. Were.”

  “Am,” I said. “I simply don’t want to suffer any longer. And I do have my answers.”

  He nodded at the shadow on the doorway.

  Gochan, looking like a pirate, dressed in a ring mail, and holding a large two-handed ax, looked in. He grunted at me. “I’m not sorry. It saved our arses.” He pointed a finger at me. “I did go to Albion, didn’t I? And Flavus would not have been this kind otherwise. He would be dead.”