Whom Gods Destroy: A Novel of Ancient Rome (The Sertorius Scrolls Book 4)

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Whom Gods Destroy: A Novel of Ancient Rome (The Sertorius Scrolls Book 4) Page 19

by Vincent B Davis II


  “Ah.” Patrobos stared wide-eyed at the ground. “That may be true.”

  “What else did you learn?” Andromache spoke with more authority than anyone in the room, her sharp eyes watching Lucius like a hawk. “Do you have any description or background on the Polemarch?”

  “Not much. The men who attacked us were little more than a band of poor farmers under the thumb of some oppressive force,” Lucius said. “But we’ve reason to believe the man has a standing force of some size and ability.”

  “That’s impossible.” Meleagros shook his head and took a sip of watered wine. “Sparta hasn’t had a standing force since the Roman conqueror Mummius burned Corinth.”

  I clicked my tongue. “I didn’t notice many young men in the streets as you led us here. Where might they be?”

  Boy servants refilled our cups and waved tropical leaves to cool us down.

  “Sparta is a warrior society, you understand,” Patrobos said. “And we can have no army, as per your laws. And Rome has needed so little auxiliary force… with there being no wars in the East, you see—”

  “You can speak plainly, friend.” Lucius set his bowl down and leaned forward on his couch.

  “Many have joined the eastern armies as mercenaries.” Patrobos rubbed at his flabby neck. “Shameful, of course, but I fear what barbarity young men might be inclined to without structured violence.”

  Aulus cocked his brow. “And what happens when they come back?”

  “Most of them do not come back,” Meleagros said with cold, unblinking eyes.

  “Some of them do decide to remain in those desolate places.” Patrobos nodded. “Others die.”

  “Certainly that can’t be true of them all?” I asked. “None of them have families or love ones to return to?”

  “Spartan men love only battle. There is no battle here so they don’t wish to return.” Meleagros shrugged.

  “Then why are all of you here?” Lucius said.

  For the first time the room grew silent save the swoosh of the feathered fans. All the noble men hung their heads. Only the lady Andromache continued eye contact with us.

  “They are correct that warriors couldn’t be within the city,” she said. “There is nowhere to hide under Spartan law. Lakonia is vast and wild though, and there could be armed men anywhere.”

  “Where would you suggest we begin our search?” Lucius said, waiting for her reply.

  “What about the mountains of Arcadia or the coasts of Argolis?” Meleagros said.

  I stated firmly, “We heard Lakonia.”

  “We also heard some of the rebels had gathered in the ruins of Corinth before the attack,” Lucius added. “They could be using that as some sort of base.”

  “See? Not in Lakonia.” Patrobos sat back with relief.

  “We heard reports of activity in Corinth,” Andromache said, eyeing the others. “There have been squatters there since Corinth’s fall, but there’s been more and more activity of late.”

  “Nothing more than lowlifes and bandits.” Meleagros shook his head. “Certainly not the type of enemy the Romans are looking for.”

  “I think it’s a good place to begin our search.” Lucius stood.

  Not a surprise to Aulus or me that he agreed with the attractive woman, but we also assumed she was right.

  “Do you have scouts we could send out?” Aulus asked. “No sense in making the trek otherwise.”

  Patrobos huffed. “Certainly you passed by it yourself on the way from Athens?”

  “We had orders and didn’t deviate from our path.” Lucius crossed his arms.

  “Yes. I have riders,” Andromache said. “I will send them out first thing in the morning. We’ll know within a week.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Lucius bowed low and awkwardly.

  Aulus and I bit our lips and nodded to the offended guests before we left.

  “I’ll bet you fifty denarii I bed her before you,” Aulus said as we exited into the evening Spartan air.

  “She’s not some merchant’s daughter, Aulus,” Lucius snapped. “She’s a lady of dignity and… respect. Neither of us will be bedding her.” He moved on ahead to avoid hearing any more.

  “Speak for yourself,” Aulus said under his breath with a laugh.

  My brother and I were alike in almost all things, but I was in no mood for laughing.

  Within a few days battle would be ringing in our ear again, and Sertorius wouldn’t be around to save us this time.

  Scroll XXI

  Quintus Sertorius

  Anaiah could barely walk. Her body had been abused badly and I sensed they kept her wine drunk—or on something stronger—to dull her senses. I put her arm around my shoulder and helped her to Niarchos’ doorstep.

  My heart was torn. What would Apollonius think when he saw what became of the little girl he’d known? I could only imagine finding Gavius in this condition. Would I praise the gods to see him again, or would I rather live in the fantasy that he’d been well and happy all this time?

  “You’re going to be safe here. Your uncle will rejoice to see you,” I said.

  She blinked slowly without a word.

  Niarchos’ jaw dropped when he answered the door. He looked at me with too many emotions to express. “Come in,” he said and stepped aside. He led us to the courtyard, attempting to speak several times but unable to do so.

  Apollonius was playing with Kirrha when we arrived. He was the last to look up. He let out a yelp from deep in his chest—one of pain, joy, terror, love. He struggled to his feet but then ran like a man half his age until he collapsed at Anaiah’s feet.

  He wrapped his arms around her legs and wept freely.

  “My girl, oh, my girl,” he repeated.

  She reluctantly placed her hands on his back.

  He took her small hands within his and pulled them to his face. He patted them. He turned them over to see every inch. He couldn’t believe it was real. He searched her face for anything he could remember. At last he stood and embraced her, at last she embraced him back.

  I stepped aside to give them a moment.

  “You’ve done… you’ve done a good thing, Quintus Sertorius,” Niarchos said.

  “I’ve kept my vow.” I looked to him. “No matter what fate awaits me I can say I kept my vow.”

  The girls led Anaiah to a bench where she could rest her bone-thin legs and drink some water.

  Apollonius came to me but couldn’t cease his crying. He wrapped me up with the uncharacteristic strength of the Python.

  I said, “The gods have blessed you, Apollonius… sorry… your God has blessed you. Perhaps he is as powerful and loving as you say.”

  “The will of God would have… never come to pass… without your bravery and friendship.” He struggled to speak. “Something I’m becoming accustomed to.”

  “You’ve saved my life many times over, Apollonius,” I said. “I would have gone to the ends of the earth to bring her back.”

  “I know… I know you would.” He looked back and forth between his niece and me, still trying to believe it. “I am just so happy she’s back.”

  He hurried to her like a giddy child, but as I watched her eyes I wondered if she actually was back—if she would ever come back.

  “See? What did I tell you?” Didius said to his several attendants when I entered his praetorium. “He traveled the same roads as I but bears not a scratch on him.”

  “Sir.”

  “How did you fare, Legate?”

  “Well. The weather allowed for easy travel.”

  “Ha! Of course, it did.” Didius clapped his hands. “I said the gods bless you, did I not?”

  He rolled up the scroll he’d been working on and passed it to a legionary behind him. It wasn’t until that moment I realized it was my shield bearer.

  “Castor?” I said, but he didn’t look up.

  He folded the scroll into a crease and poured the hot red wax for Didius to stamp with his seal.

  “Y
es, he’s been attending me since you were gone. I think you were on to something, Sertorius.” Didius smiled. “He’s more useful than I believed.”

  “Now that I’ve returned, he will return to his position as my shield bearer. Correct?”

  Didius pursed his lips and considered it. “What do you think, legionary?” the commander asked.

  Castor kept his eyes down. “I’ll serve where I’m needed most, general.”

  “Well, he certainly can’t be put back on the front lines.” Didius shook his head. “He’s spent far too much time being coddled by you to handle a blade properly.”

  Breath burst from my nostrils. “Go and ask any of my men if I coddle them.”

  Didius tired of the conversation and flicked his hand for his attendants to leave us. “What did the oracle tell you? Do we know which gods to appease?”

  I remained at attention, waiting for him to order me to relax. I didn’t receive it. “All of them.”

  Didius let out a belly laugh. “Of course. Did she say what we needed to do to avoid their wrath?” He spoke as if he didn’t believe it, but he was the one who sent me on the mission in the first place.

  “She did…”

  “Speak then.”

  I looked at Castor, who still refused to meet my gaze. “She said only the willful shedding of innocent blood beneath the shield of mighty Athena.”

  “That shouldn’t be so hard. Even after the attack, Athens is filled with more livestock than man.”

  “It’s man that she said must die.” I kept my eyes forward and back straight.

  “Perhaps we should tell her my son’s innocent blood was shed.” His jaw twitched. “She forced Agamemnon to kill his own daughter. Does she know my child is already dead?”

  “They say the Pythia knows everything, Proconsul.”

  He shifted with only a moment’s rage, but then cooled. “I’ll talk with Kallias. He can coordinate with our camp priests. We’ll find a way to interpret this riddle. Won’t we, legionary?” He turned to Castor, who waited a moment before nodding. “In your absence, however, we’ve received intelligence. Battle may yet be upon us.”

  “What have we discovered?” I said, unable to remain at attention with such news.

  “The Archon has been busy.”

  I stepped toward the table. “What do we know?”

  He raised one of his brows. “We know nothing. But someone here has news to report.” “He says he’ll only speak the rest to you.”

  “Why me?”

  “I was wondering the same thing precisely.” His gaze was fixed on me. I didn’t know what this could be about, but I was aware it didn’t look good. “He’s back there.” He pointed to a backroom covered by another tent flap.

  “Did he give a name?”

  “Oh, we all know his name,” he said, “and it would be unwise to keep him waiting.”

  I saluted and approached the backroom. He stepped into my path. “And, Sertorius… you know what happens if I smell even a whiff of sedition?”

  “Yes, Proconsul,” I said with a gulp.

  “You may only have one eye, but I have both eyes on you. Now figure out what this reprobate wants.”

  I pulled the flap back and stepped inside. A candelabrum flickered in the corner, illuminating only half the face of a cloaked man.

  “Let me get a look at you,” the man said. A voice that deep, gruff, and resounding could only belong to one man. Even before I could see him fully, I knew Gaius Marius was the man before me.

  “General Marius,” I said, remaining in place. He wasn’t a general any longer, or even a consul. He was just a man with an illustrious career marred by too many errors to count. But some things would never change, and I’d never be able to address him as a peer.

  He approached and placed both hands on my shoulders. “Legate Sertorius,” he said, drawing the words out and savoring them. “I knew as sure as a prophet this day would come. You belong in that armor.”

  Little had changed in Marius since I last saw him. His jaw still strong, chin jutting. Despite his age his back was still straight and his muscles thick and defined. Perhaps there was less hair on his head, and his belly a bit rounder, but none could have mistaken Marius as the man whose statue lined every street in Rome.

  “It’s been a while,” I said, uneasy and unsure why he was present.

  “It has. While you’ve been following in my footsteps, I’ve been making my pilgrimage throughout the East. Savage country, to be certain, but it’s lovely.” He turned and poured wine into two pewter cups. He extended one in my direction. I gazed back to the thin tent partition and accepted.

  “I tell you,” he took a quick sip, “There is no place outside of Italy where a man can truly consider himself more than a beast. These desert people live by a code, but it’s more like that of animals than learned men.”

  “Why have you come all this way? I’m sure you aren’t here just to share stories of your travels.”

  He placed a hand on his chest and frowned. “You wound me. After so long, I assumed you’d be delighted to see me.”

  I wasn’t. “I am, it’s just that—”

  “I have information for you.” He drained his wine like a common soldier and quickly refilled his cup. “I considered informing your proconsul, but I don’t quite like the man if you want to know the truth. It must have been disappointing to serve under a pissant like Didius after years on my staff.”

  I scratched my forehead to hide the look on my face.

  “I’ve spent some time in the throne room of Mithridates.”

  “The debauched king of Pontus?”

  He nodded. “We played a game of wits for the few days I remained there. He did all he could to both impress and intimidate me, but I made it clear Romans are superior to the eastern kingdoms in every way.”

  I waited for him to get to his point, but he’d been traveling for so long he was determined to draw it out.

  He chuckled when he recalled something. “After all his displays of extravagance and excess I told him, ‘Boy, either become stronger than Rome, or obey her commands in silence.’ That got the point across.”

  I considered mentioning how reckless and foolish that was, but I was anxious to hear his news so only said, “Go on.”

  “Not interested in minding his place like a good boy-king, he decided to make his most grotesque display yet. He brought out slaves.”

  “Slaves?”

  “Roman slaves. He had dozens, maybe even hundreds. He claimed to use them for sport, but I’m certain he was collecting as much intelligence on Rome as he could get from the poor wretches.” He grimaced and I knew it wasn’t the wine.

  “We’ve already determined that Romans have been enslaved in Greece,” I said. “That’s what started this war.”

  “Well do you know where they’re being auctioned off?”

  I shook my head.

  “That’s what I’ve come to tell you. The rebels you’re looking for are holding up in Plataea, and it’s from here that they barter Roman lives like barbarian peasants. He blurted it out with all the arrogance you’d expect of an eastern king, as if I wouldn’t use this to destroy those involved.”

  “Thank you for informing us, General Marius.” I nodded, wanting to believe that my former commander was acting simply in Rome’s best interests, but I knew better. I waited for him to state his desires.

  “Now, seeing as I’ve come by this information and I have twice over the military experience than that senatorial puppet Didius, I’d like to conquer these rebels myself.”

  I nearly spit out a sip of wine. I couldn’t help but laugh even as his face reddened. “Do you think that’s a power I can bestow on you?”

  He grunted and for a moment I saw the rage so prevalent during his last Consulship. It soon passed and he smiled. “That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” He poured himself a third cup of wine, his teeth now stained purple. “Intelligent, battle-hardened men like you and I making the decisions. But unf
ortunately, we must rely on the infinitely wise ‘Senate and People of Rome’.” He watched to see if I understood, but I failed to signal whatever acceptance he expected. “I’ve sent word to Rome asking for this commission. If the time comes and you are called on for your testament, I’d ask that in return for this great favor, you speak to my military excellence and encourage them to make me commander here effective immediately.”

  I lowered my gaze and exhaled. I felt certain Didius was listening to every word. I needed to choose my words very carefully. “If the rebels are indeed at Plataea, we will wipe them out and the war will be over before the Senate can even meet on the issue.”

  He crossed his arms. “I considered that. But given the information I have about the size of their force, and my lack of regard for Didius’ competence, I believe the battle will be lost and the glory of Didius’ replacement will be even greater.”

  “If we lose that battle you can be certain I’ll no longer be around to speak your praises,” I said. “I will die on the battlefield with my men and my commander.”

  Marius grinned. “My boy.” He patted my face and I bit my tongue. “Brave, just as I taught you to be. But the gods tell me you’re destined for greater things, and my assumptions about you have always been correct.”

  “We shall see.”

  “If the time comes. Will you answer your call?” He stepped as close to me as he could, a tactic he often employed when he wanted to assure compliance.

  “I will answer honestly and faithfully whatever the Senate and People of Rome ask of me.”

  That seemed to be enough for him. and putting his arm around my shoulder instead. “As I knew you would. I best be going then. I’m hastening to Rome to make my case. I shall see you again soon,” Marius said.

  We departed together to the praetorium proper, and the old general made a point to linger by my side and smile triumphantly in Didius’ direction. As he departed, Marius held his back straight and chin raised to the heavens, as if his command was already secured.

  “Proconsul, he’s reported where the rebels are mustering,” I said, struggling to compose myself and salute before his desk.

 

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