Without waiting for a response, Cleander shot Rufinus a withering look and wheeled his horse to depart. Tribune Fulvius paused for a long moment, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed as he too looked at Rufinus, then he turned and rode off in the wake of his master, the other cavalry following on.
Rufinus shivered. There was something he didn’t like about that look. He feared that perhaps Fulvius had decided Rufinus had other plans now, beyond his own death. If he pondered Rufinus’ position in the Cohort and decided that he was somehow scheming against Cleander, things could come apart remarkably quickly, and he might well bring down men like Severus and Dionysus with him. Soon, though, the sort of thing that had happened here would come to the attention of the emperor. All it would take then was one man to call for Cleander’s head, and the whole city would join the chorus.
Despite having just broken up a riot, he found himself hoping that something similar might happen again soon.
‘Ignore the poisonous lunatic, Pertinax said with a smile. ‘You did well and we all know it. Even him.’
‘What if he carries out his threat, sir?’ Rufinus asked.
‘To deploy the Praetorians on crowd control? I doubt he would do it. The Guard would think it demeaning.’ He sighed. ‘But if he does, we have difficult choices to make. Standing against the chamberlain is dangerous work, and usually carries a death sentence, but I will not allow him to use the imperial bodyguard to kill citizens. If the worst comes to the worst, we will do what is right, regardless of the consequences, will we not Maximus?’
‘Damn right we will, sir,’ Rufinus said with fierce pride. If only this man had been in charge of the Guard and not Cleander. What a force they could be, instead of the ignoble thug army of a grasping would-be king.
‘The fire is almost out, sir. Permission to dismiss the men back to camp.’
‘Granted, Centurion. And you have my thanks.’
Rufinus smiled. Sometimes there were bright points even in the darkest of days.
Chapter Twenty One – Evil deeds
Rome, Early June 190 A.D.
Rufinus stood at the rear corner of the office, wincing but trying hard not to be too conspicuous, not that any of those in the room were likely to pay him any attention anyway with the way things were going.
Cleander stood centrally in the room, gesticulating, his arms flailing angrily with every point he emphasised. Dionysus stood behind his desk, red-faced with an equal temper, fists balled to batter on the wooden surface with his own words. The cavalry tribune Fulvius stood by the door, several of his Praetorians outside eying Rufinus’ men of the Cohort with suspicion, and Septimius Severus, consul of Rome, stood opposite Rufinus with a serene face like carved marble.
‘Open the fucking granaries, Dionysus,’ Cleander said for the third time.
‘Why are you making me repeat myself, Chamberlain?’ the grain commissioner said with a voice hoarse from shouting.
‘Because you persist in denying me. People do not deny me, Dionysus. Bear in mind why.’
‘Do not threaten me,’ Dionysus snapped. ‘I am a prefect of Rome, of a good family, with a distinguished record of service and I am doing everything I do for the good of the empire and the city.’
Rufinus gave the slightest of nods. That last was most certainly true, though not the way Cleander would understand it.
‘Open the granaries.’
‘No!’
Severus waved a hand. ‘Far be it from me to interrupt your friendly banter, but might I interject?’
Cleander turned on him, angrily. ‘What?’
Dionysus just continued to glare at the chamberlain.
‘You argue in circles. Cleander, I understand your frustration, and I am sure the prefect here does, too. Yes, the people are restive and things are becoming dangerous, and I am sure that it irks you that your granaries are the target of so many demonstrations, but the facts Dionysus relates remain true. He has confirmed time and again that there is insufficient grain in store to feed the city. If he opens the horrea now and distributes it, the problems will only escalate. Half the city will be fed, and the other half will still go hungry. Can you imagine the riots you will have on your hands if that happens? And then there will be no grain to feed the soldiers whose duty it is to contain such civil disturbance.’
‘You are just repeating him,’ spat Cleander.
‘Because you are not listening to his reasoning,’ Severus said quietly. ‘And threatening him will not help.’
‘Do not think that your consulate will protect you either,’ snarled the chamberlain.
Severus’ eyes grew flinty. ‘I am not Vitellius,’ he said flatly, with reference to the former suffect consul who had recently stepped down. ‘Your threats will not drive me from the city into hiding as they did him. The emperor…’
‘The emperor hides away at Laurentum,’ Cleander interrupted. ‘There he is out of reach for both of us, listening to the honeyed poison words of his whore. He will not step in to save you if I decide that you have become a burden for Rome, Severus.’
‘You small-minded, arrogant prick,’ Dionysus shouted. ‘How dare you threaten a prefect and a consul and insult the emperor’s mistress all in one breath.’
‘Watch your tongue, Dionysus, lest I have it pulled out and snipped off.’
Rufinus shivered at the threats and anger on display. This was getting more dangerous by the heartbeat. The only thing that had saved them from Cleander’s rage so far was that Severus just might be able to call on the emperor for support, though with every month Commodus spent locked away out of the city that possibility shrank. That and the fact that he yet had need of Dionysus, as a scapegoat if nothing else.
Severus took a deep breath and held out a hand, palm flat towards each of the two other arguers.
‘Let us all calm down. I have a proposal.’
All eyes turned to the big, bearded African consul, who pursed his lips. ‘We know that relief is coming. The fleet from Alexandria could arrive any day. Let us not in the meantime do anything precipitous that might cause Rome to turn upon itself. Here is my suggestion: With the grain already hoarded and the extra from the Arelate mills that we brought in, there is still not enough grain to cover the dole and still feed the military and other groups.’
‘We know all that,’ snapped Cleander, who now knew that caravans had arrived with grain, though remained entirely unaware of the scale of that delivery. Not once had he actually demanded to look inside the granaries, thank the gods.
‘Yes, but I may have a way to bolster supplies enough to feed the city and the army, at least for a month, which will buy us time to wait for the Alexandria shipment.’
‘How?’ demanded Dionysus, brow furrowed. Rufinus nodded. He could not see a solution, and moreover could see no reason for trying. They had to keep this up after all.
‘There are still private merchants with stores of grain, in Rome and around the peninsula, especially in the ports. They hoard what they have, but the public cannot afford them. Their prices have risen to such an extent that it is cheaper to buy a sword than a measure of grain this summer.’
‘I fail to see how that helps,’ Cleander grumbled.
‘Buy those supplies.’
‘What?’
‘Buy every modius of grain on the market. If you have to pay that exorbitant price, then so be it. I never said the solution would be cheap. Perhaps, given your power, you can put through a temporary edict that limits the price of grain and then buy it cheaper. Such things are possible. Whatever it takes, though, buy all the grain you can find. Liaise with Dionysus here to have it added to the stores we already have, and then, once there is just enough to cover the dole and all rations for a month, open the granaries. That should tide you over until the Alexandria shipment.’
‘Even at ordinary prices it will be costly,’ said Cleander, but his expression had already slipped from blind anger to calculation. Severus had him.
‘But it is a solution.’
/>
Dionysus was nodding now, and Cleander straightened. ‘I shall have my people locate all the grain available on the private market. We shall arrange for it to be purchased and shipped here. You will see to its safe storage, prefect, and will inform me when the quantity is sufficient to release. You will not open the granaries yourself, but will wait for me to do so, for they are my granaries, and the acclaim shall be mine, after all the troubles you have put me through.’
Dionysus flashed him an angry look but nodded again, and Cleander turned his back and strode from the room without a word of farewell. Fulvius glared at them all, lingering for some time on Rufinus, and then followed, shutting the door with a click.
There was a tense pause as the footsteps receded, and then Dionysus let out an explosive breath.
‘What did you do?’
‘What had to be done,’ Severus replied. ‘If I had not given him a solution, he would not have left here without the horrea being opened, and we all know that must not happen. We are on a time limit anyway. The moment that grain shipment arrives, all our hard work will have been for naught. We need to bring this to a head now, before that happens. All I have done is put him off. He will now devote his time to finding more supplies instead of watching you. You don’t need to tell him when there’s enough grain, because we all know there is enough already. String him along.’
Rufinus broke into a sly smile. ‘Better still, if the people find out Cleander is not only hoarding grain but is also buying up all the private stocks they cannot afford, his name will be blackened yet further.’
Nods greeted this thought. It was still building. The city festered, and Cleander was already a figure of hate. Slogans were scrawled across the city, and the vigiles had received a palace order to add the removal of such graffiti to their standing daily tasks, as if they didn’t have enough to do. A statue of Cleander in the forum was daily pelted with rotting veg, and it was only a matter of time until someone toppled and smashed it. All it would really take now was for someone to demand Cleander’s fall of the emperor.
That demand could not come from any of the conspirators, of course. They needed to remain apart from the disaster that they had secretly initiated. Severus had, he’d confided in them, all-but persuaded the former consul Vitellius to take the demand to the emperor. As a friend of Commodus’, and a man of impeccable character he would be the perfect figurehead to put forth Rome’s demand. Unfortunately, Vitellius had been so forthright that he’d first gone to Cleander and demanded he step down else Vitellius would approach the emperor. No one knew what the chamberlain had done, but that very day Vitellius slunk away from Rome with his tail between his legs and disappeared.
Thus the pot of Rome continued to boil, and it would require someone else to trigger the finale.
Rufinus was just wondering whether Severus had someone else in mind when they became aware of shouting. Then there came a chorus of thumps on the office door.
‘Come in.’
One of the soldiers of the Cohort stood in the entrance as the door opened. He looked wild-eyed.
‘Sir.’
‘What is it?’
‘A big crowd outside, sir. They was getting angry, but we had them contained and they wasn’t armed, but when the chamberlain walked out they went mad.’
Rufinus turned to the others. ‘Could this be it?’
‘Come on,’ Severus said, marching out of the office, Dionysus hurrying to catch up with them.
A century of Cleander’s Praetorians were lined up at the far end of the courtyard, and Fulvius and the chamberlain were with them, in the saddle and in deep discussion.
As the three conspirators emerged into the courtyard, Rufinus could already hear the angry mob outside the main gate. The raised voices were a rumble of discontent. He had two centuries of the Urban Cohort outside now, and those men would be protecting the building and its important occupants.
‘Better send word to your barracks,’ Severus said as they marched out towards the trouble. ‘If this gets out of hand you’ll need more than two centuries of men.’
Rufinus nodded and gestured to the soldier who’d borne the news. ‘Leave by one of the other exits. Head to the nearest vigiles station and get them out and running. We might need them. Then get a horse from the nearest stable and ride back to the fortress and alert them. Call out a full cohort on my authority.’
As the man saluted and ran off, Rufinus glanced at the others. ‘Of course that will take time. We might all be in trouble before they get here.’
‘Your men are professional soldiers,’ Dionysus pointed out. ‘That crowd are just civilians. Could they be too dangerous to you?’
Rufinus shrugged as they walked. ‘Mine are soldiers with sticks. Our main weapon is intimidation. Let’s see how the land lies,’ he suggested, as they passed the small Praetorian force and approached the main gate. Peering through the entrance, Rufinus could see that trouble was almost certainly theirs for the having.
Men of the Cohort guarded the doorway, and he could see their armoured forms several rows deep outside. He couldn’t see much of the mob, other than the fact that a great press of them were only being held back by the soldiers, but even before he’d arrived to give orders, the soldiers already had their nightsticks out and their shields braced. His men were certainly ready for violence.
Damn it.
But then this might be precisely what they needed. Cleander was here. The crowd had turned ugly at the very sight of him. They were so close to watching him topple now. Just a few more nudges…
He stepped between the men at the gate and stopped at the outer edge, Dionysus and Severus flanking him. The crowd was not huge, but it was big enough. He had only two centuries of men here, a hundred and fifty bodies all told against a crowd of maybe a thousand. Enough to grind his men down, certainly. And he couldn’t really trap them and break them as he had last time, for they had him trapped instead, this time. Half an hour, minimum, until more soldiers arrived, unless there were enough vigiles in the area to make a difference.
In half an hour, Rufinus suspected, he and his men would be little more than a red stain on the stonework. He had to shift them before they initiated true violence, or things would turn bleak.
‘People of Rome, there is nothing to gain from violence. You know the situation. Nothing has changed in more than a month. I ask you now to disperse. Go home and wait. Grain will be yours once the Alexandrian fleet arrives. Just a few more days.’
The reaction of the crowd was less than positive, a sour anger rippling through them. Rufinus was trying to decide what to say when Severus stepped in front of him.
‘People of Rome, rejoice. The chamberlain has decided to buy up the private grain stocks so that we might have enough grain to fulfil the dole. Your emperor and his men wish you nothing but peace and hope.’
‘What in Hades did you tell them that for?’ snapped Cleander. Rufinus hadn’t noticed the man, along with his tribune and a couple of men, approaching but now they were right behind the three conspirators. Severus turned, his expression blank.
‘It is the simple truth, Chamberlain. With the way your reputation is currently suffering, I thought perhaps that I might give your something of a boost. When the food comes, you will be a hero.’
‘But for now,’ Cleander snarled, ‘all they will see is that I am hoarding even more grain away from them. You dolt.’
The look of injured innocence that passed across Severus’ face was masterful, and Rufinus had to fight down a smile even at this dire stage. In one bright moment the consul had managed to drive another nail into the crucifix of Cleander’s reputation while appearing to have been doing it for the best of reasons.
The crowd now spotted Cleander once more in the shadows, and Rufinus was thoroughly impressed at the surge of hatred that suddenly washed across the city outside. The chamberlain’s popularity was at an all time low. Had the emperor been currently resident in the city, he could not have missed this, and Cl
eander’s fall would have begun. With him in his coastal villa it was more difficult, but surely soon someone of import would petition the emperor.
‘Do something,’ snapped Cleander. ‘I have business to attend to and I cannot lurk around in this shit hole all day. Clear them away.’
Rufinus sighed. ‘That is precisely what we are attempting to do, Chamberlain.’
‘Not with words, man. With weapons. Clear the street. Put the crowd down.’
Severus turned to him. ‘You cannot advocate attacking Roman citizens when they have yet to display a show of violence themselves.’
‘They might not have struck me, Consul, but their intent is clear enough. Move them on.’
Now Rufinus shook his head. ‘I will not engage them unless I am out of options, Chamberlain. They outnumber us five men to one, and my men are armed only with nightsticks.’
‘Then step aside and let real soldiers disperse them.’
Rufinus frowned. ‘The Praetorian Guard have no jurisdiction in…’
Cleander waved him aside angrily. ‘The Praetorian Guard have whatever rights and power I care to bestow upon them. And if the Urban Cohort are not capable of doing their job? Well I’ve warned you once before. The Guard will be forced to step in and do it for them.’
Severus shook his head. ‘They are the emperor’s bodyguard. Only he or the two prefects can authorise any such action.’
‘I command both the prefects, Severus, or did you forget? I am the dagger bearer, ultimate commander of the Guard. Stand aside.’
Rufinus shook his head. ‘No. These are citizens, and until someone throws a brick they are innocent citizens.’
‘Tribune?’ Cleander turned to Fulvius. ‘Have the men draw their blades and engage the crowd. If anyone gets in the way that is their own bad luck.’
Fulvius saluted and marched back into the courtyard yelling commands to the two centuries of guardsmen therein. Rufinus exchanged looks with both Severus and Dionysus. Their overt expressions were of disbelief, horror and anger, yet each of them had that barely discernible twinkle in their eye that Rufinus was sure he also had. By rights, Rufinus should stop them. He should resist, especially with the authority of a consul present. And the very last thing he wanted to do was let civilians die. But opposing Cleander right now would be a terrible idea. The man’s anger was at its peak and here outside the Pomerium his guardsmen were armoured fully and armed with edged weapons. If pushed, he might very well cut a path through nobles and soldiers alike before he even reached the public. And there was always the tantalising possibility that the Guard might be overwhelmed and Cleander torn to pieces by the mob.
Lions of Rome Page 31