I got up and strode towards the clerk, and stood close enough to see the filthy blackheads on his nose.
‘But at the same time,’ I continued, ‘don’t make this so obvious that I can get prosecuted.’ Suddenly, my hand shot out and I grabbed him by the balls, and he emitted a piggish squeal. ‘And if I even suspect that you are cutting me short, or, the gods forbid, betraying me, I will tear off these slimy balls of yours, make you eat them, and then impale you on a very sharp stake. Do I make myself clear?’
Tears streamed down his face, as he whimpered and nodded. I let go, and he gasped in relief.
‘Now we understand each other. Give me a list of what you need and I shall give you an office here, in my home. You may leave now, Melander.’
Dismissed, my new clerk hurried out of my study as fast as his legs could carry him.
* * *
Those first couple of months were the laziest and among the most enjoyable of my life. Yes, it was still winter, but winter in Hispania is better than, say, summer in Britannia, godforsaken place that it is. My time serving as a tribune had been cold and hard, and I was determined to enjoy the luxuries of my province to the full. The horses, for one thing, are the very best in the world, with men coming from all over the empire to seek Baetica’s yearly stock of horseflesh. I pride myself on my knowledge of all things horse, so I was able to lean on one of the merchants to sell some of his finest stock at a cut-down price in return for my forgetting to charge him tax that year. Thus I came to be the proud owner of two mares and a stallion, the best of the best.
Naming your horse is always a tricky business, especially for a military man, since the common soldiers take a pride not only in their general but in their general’s possessions too, so a good general needs a horse that his troops can be proud of. Bucephalus I thought a touch arrogant, since I was nearing Alexander’s age but with very little to show for it. Then I remembered that the stallion had a white sock on one of its hind legs, so what better name than Achilles? The horse dealer I bought him from insisted that he had been fully trained as a warhorse: to kick, rear and bite in battle. However, I earnestly hoped that I wouldn’t have to test the beast on the battlefield for a long time yet.
But the next few days proved that the whimsical nature of the gods can shake up the fates of men beyond belief. There was I, enjoying milking my province, when the peaceful tenor of my existence was swiftly shattered. If you had told me then that those next few months would stir up the most chaotic war in our city’s history, I would have given you a look of pity and dispatched you to the establishment where we send our foaming, twitching lunatics! But I shall endeavour to spare you these little annotations of mine; the events are far more interesting.
I had taken Achilles for a ride along the river to get some fresh air into my lungs. I headed home, slipped down, handed the reins to one of the slaves and made my way indoors. On entering the atrium, I stopped in my tracks.
‘Giving your duties your full attention I see, Severus!’ The voice emanated from a stocky, grey-haired man who was lying on a recliner, drinking my wine – and from my golden cup, if you please. I was about to ask what he thought he was doing, a stranger in my house. Then I realized that there were few men in the province, if any, who would address me in that manner, put two and two together and replied: ‘But of course, Governor, I’ve just come from my inspection of the tax houses in Corduba.’
This didn’t seem to satisfy the man, who looked me up and down. ‘You don’t seem dressed for an official inspection.’
This was true. I was wearing a simple tunic that was somewhat dusty from the ride. Not wanting to lose face in front of my superior, I tried to think of some excuse.
‘Well, sir, it was actually a surprise inspection. I wanted to see the works, and not just what they wanted me to see.’
The man chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, man, interrogation over. You’ve passed.’
‘Passed, sir?’ I asked.
‘You and I both know that you’ve just been out for a ride on that splendid stallion of yours, the one the whole province has been talking about. You forget that I’ve been a quaestor myself and know exactly how much, or I should say how little, the role requires if you have a reliable deputy.’
I had been standing bolt upright, but the governor’s affable response took a great deal of the tension out of the conversation, and I was about to take a seat myself and ask the nature of his visit, when he beat me to it.
‘I expect you’re wondering why I’ve called on you, despite the fact that you haven’t done the courtesy of acquainting yourself with your governor in the weeks that you’ve been here. And don’t give me any excuses; that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because we have been summoned to Tarraco post haste.’
I was a little surprised. ‘May I ask why, sir?’
‘I’ll tell you as much as I know,’ the governor promised, ‘but be warned: it’s precious little. We have both been summoned by no less a person than Servius Sulpicius Galba, for “a meeting of the highest importance”. Now you know as much as I do.’
‘Immediately, sir?’ I enquired.
‘Immediately. I shall encroach upon your hospitality no longer, and will see you tomorrow morning when we set off for the north.’
Governor Tacitus began to make his way out, and then I remembered to ask, ‘Why do you think he wants us?’
He turned to look at me. ‘We’ll speak about it tomorrow. It’s dangerous to gossip. You never know who’s listening.’
* * *
Dawn made her lazy way over the eastern horizon as my slaves prepared me for the journey. I had no clue whatsoever why Galba should want to see both Tacitus and me, and at such short notice. Questions were brimming inside my head. Why the urgency, and what would the governor of Hispania Tarraconensis, an ex-consul, no less, want with me, a humble quaestor? I was dressed in my riding tunic, but with my old military cloak to keep me warm for the next few days. It was clear from the slaves’ faces that they were glad their master was to be away for a while, as they hoped to relax a bit during my absence. (I would have my steward let me know who had worked hard and who hadn’t once I had returned, so that didn’t bother me.) I made my way to the courtyard, while a slave carried my stuffed saddlebags behind me. Tacitus was already there on a shabby gelding, and one of the stable boys held a similarly dishevelled nag by the reins.
‘I’m sure you’ve ridden better,’ the governor explained, ‘but we’ll travel much quicker by changing horses every twenty miles or so than taking any of your precious beasts all the way, only to have them wheezing before we’ve even got as far as the next valley! Saddle up, Severus.’ With that he walked his horse out of the yard and headed for the track leading towards the city.
I had my slave help me into the saddle, fastened the saddlebags, took a last look at my home, then dug my heels into my horse’s flanks and set off in pursuit. After a few minutes I caught up with Tacitus.
‘No lictors, sir?’ I asked. Without even looking at me, he said, ‘No need. This part of Hispania has been peaceful for as long as there’s been an empire. It’s cheaper too.’
This puzzled me. ‘I thought that all our expenses could be charged to the province?’
That brought a sharp look from the older man. ‘Unlike you, quaestor, I don’t seek to cheat our emperor in any way, shape or form. I only take what is necessary.’
If that’s how you think then you’re a sentimental old fool, I thought to myself. It must have showed, for he continued to tick me off. ‘I know that must make me seem an old-fashioned relic to you, but in my day public office was a chance to serve and not to help oneself!’
There was little point in arguing with my superior, especially since he held the moral high ground. ‘Yes, sir,’ I said.
Tacitus must have realized that he was having little effect on me, since he took a more kindly tone. ‘I’m sorry, Severus, it’s not you so much as the world today that I have a quarrel with. As you’re my only
company for the next few days, you’re going to have to put up with my ranting as best you can.’
‘Which road are we taking to get to Tarraco, sir?’ I asked.
‘Not the coastal route. It’s too long and Galba wants us as soon as possible, it seems. We ride all day to Toletum, tomorrow a hundred miles to Ercavica, another hundred to Saguntum, and the final stretch to Tarraco is about a hundred and thirty miles. Think you’re up to it?’
Time for a bit of judicious insolence, I thought! ‘With respect, sir, I was campaigning with the legions not so long ago. Surely I should be asking you?’
Tacitus threw back his head and laughed raucously. ‘So you’re not a complete arse-licker after all! Well then, let’s see who’s smarting the most in a few days’ time. Try and keep up…’
And with that he was off, and I gave my steed a sharp kick and set off after him.
II
I’m not going to even attempt to describe the sheer beauty of Hispania. I had the next four days to drink it in, the delving valleys, the rocky outcrops and vast plains. I’d spent much of my youth shut up within the walls of our family villas in Italy, and before my time with the legions I’d not had much chance to explore. However, the land where I’d served was so different to the dusty vastness of Hispania, there was little to prepare me for the marvellous sights this land has to offer. Regretfully I must turn to more important things, first because the greenness of the Baetican fields and the expanse of the central plateau bear no relation to my story, and more importantly because I’m starting to sound like those insufferable bards who muse about the bounty of Mother Earth, in the vain hope that one of their betters will like what he hears and toss them a coin or two.
I take it you remember that Tacitus had promised to tell me more about the reason for our journey while we were on the road, but whenever I broached the subject he looked sullen and said that his explanation could wait. It was only on the last day of our journey that he let on anything at all. Weary and saddle-sore, we had reached the Via Augusta and were greatly looking forward to the comfortable beds that awaited us in Galba’s villa, which could not fail to be ten times better than those we had rented on our way north. But on the other hand Galba was renowned as one of the richest men in the world, and at the same time one of the most miserly. Knowing him, he had probably taken clumps of feathers from the bedding in his guestrooms and put them into new pillowcases to save buying more pillows than was absolutely necessary! I was just thinking about the last time I had seen Galba when Tacitus spoke.
‘I suppose the time has come to tell you what this meeting is all about.’ Tacitus paused, obviously uncomfortable about the impending conversation. ‘The truth is,’ he continued, ‘I don’t exactly know myself!’
‘Then why in Hades did you pretend you knew?’ I asked, bemused.
‘I said that I don’t know for sure, but I can guess.’
Irritable after the day’s long ride, I indulged in a spot of sarcasm. ‘So what does your highly trained guesswork tell you?’
‘It tells me, you arrogant pup, that this meeting will decide the future of the empire.’
I must have looked a sight. I was thunderstruck. How had he come to that conclusion?
‘And no,’ he continued, ‘it’s not some wild stab in the dark. To anyone who’s actually watched this empire of ours over the last few years, it’s only logical.’
‘Why should it be about the future of the empire?’
‘Let’s see: we have an emperor who tarts himself up like a poet and performs to the mob, and makes a mockery of the Olympic Games by entering the chariot races, nearly killing himself in the process. What about the Great Fire, and all those rumours that not only did the foul man enjoy watching it destroy almost half the city but he probably started it, just to see what it would do? The man’s a monster!’
‘But how do you jump from an unbalanced emperor straight to a Galban conspiracy, if that’s what you’re implying?’ I countered.
‘Because, simpleton, all the attempts to oust Nero have been based in Rome, and involved trying to bribe the Praetorian Guard to help out. Here in the provinces a conspiracy is much harder for the emperor’s spies to discover.’
‘That’s a bit far-fetched, isn’t it?’
‘Is it? Look at Domitius Corbulo. An excellent general, he proved it in Germania and Armenia; his only mistake was to be popular with the people. Once his son-in-law was found to have been plotting against Nero, Corbulo was ordered to commit suicide. The point is that there are precious few men who could challenge Nero, even if they wanted to. Galba is one of them. Now I don’t want to talk about this matter again; it’s treacherous, and what’s more it’s dangerous.’
I nodded, and we resumed our ride to Tarraco.
* * *
Galba’s villa was not difficult to find. I say villa, though palace is probably a better word. What normally happens when senators are assigned provinces is they commandeer whatever villa takes their fancy. But since Hispania is one of Rome’s oldest provinces, it has a villa that was specially built in the reign of Augustus for the governor and all his successors. My only regret was that my first sight of it had not been in daylight, since we arrived in Tarraco some time after sunset. Our horses were not nearly as tired as we were, yet we still plodded through the city streets, weaving our way towards Galba’s palace, or what we assumed was Galba’s palace, since it was by far the biggest building in all of Tarraco.
Imagine our surprise, then, when we were politely informed by the janitor that though Galba did indeed own the palace, he was renting it out to some merchant for six months, and that we could find the governor at another address, which for some reason he was reluctant to give. After a few threats and then an explanation of who we were, the slave hurriedly directed us towards the merchants’ quarter. After another half an hour’s ride, we were both stunned to find that the governor of Hispania Tarraconensis was living in a building that I would have guessed belonged to some jumped-up grain merchant, not to one of the most important men in the empire.
After knocking on the door, we were ushered in quickly and taken through the courtyard to the stables, where we were told our host would meet us. No sooner had we dismounted and started walking, very bow-legged I might add, towards the villa itself than an elderly man in a simple blue tunic called out to us from the doorway. A crooked nose protruded from a great, domed skull that had long since lost the hair that had once adorned it. Even if I didn’t recognize him from his nose alone there was the most fantastic chin. It jutted out so far that I found myself thinking, not for the first time, that if pressed you could use the man’s face as a nutcracker. My boyish thoughts were interrupted.
‘My friends, thank you so very much for coming.’
Tacitus was understandably grumpy, considering our 400-mile trek. ‘We couldn’t really ignore your summons, could we?’
Galba chuckled to himself. ‘No, I suppose you couldn’t.’
I piped up, ‘Might I ask why I have been summoned, sir?’
The old man gave a knowing smile and said, ‘All will be revealed tomorrow. Until then, I can offer you some refreshments, and a bed of course.’
He clapped his hand on my back and escorted us both inside. Well, I say escorted, but the old man suffered badly from gout and could only limp as we walked on ahead. He walked so slowly that out of politeness Tacitus and I paused halfway down the hall and waited for him to catch up. Other men were milling around inside the building, looking just as clueless as we were as to why a rich man like Galba was living in a place like this, and, more importantly, why he had brought us all here. After a round of introductions, it seemed that the governor of each Hispanian province was there, as well as some more, unfamiliar faces. But the hour was late, and the road had been long. Tacitus and I asked to be shown to our beds, and we quickly settled down for the night.
* * *
As we had gone to bed with none of our questions answered, you might expect me to have
lain awake all night puzzling over the whole situation. However, you’d be wrong. Bear in mind that I’d been riding for four days solid with a man about as forthcoming as an unpaid whore, and hadn’t slept in a half-decent bed since leaving my own back in Corduba. I slept like a log, only to have a slave come in to wake me, saying that breakfast was served and the council would be meeting in an hour. It did little good. The next thing I knew, Tacitus was bellowing at me to get up, as everyone was waiting. At that I leapt out of bed, threw on my smartest gear and hurried down the corridor on my irate companion’s trail. Somewhat out of breath, I made it to the triclinium, where all the couches had been pushed against the walls to make way for a large, round table.
‘And now that the youngest of us has seen fit to grace us with his presence, we can begin.’
My cheeks must have been crimson as I took my seat opposite Galba.
‘As I was saying, no doubt you wish to know why you are here, both in Tarraco and more specifically not in my grander residence. If I may, I shall answer the second question first. As some of you may know, in these days where glorious deeds on the battlefield are more likely to see you executed than rewarded, I have diverted my energies to a rather more grubby profession: making money.’
A chuckle went round the table. This was quite an understatement; even I knew that Galba could have matched Croesus for wealth and, more amazingly, the triumvir Crassus for avarice!
‘Therefore,’ Galba continued, ‘as I inherited this rather grand villa here in Tarraco, letting out the palace and residing here is both highly profitable and useful. Useful because, and I wish to make this perfectly clear, nothing that is said here today is to be mentioned to anyone without my express permission.’
We all professed earnest agreement at this, though still agog to hear exactly what was so secret. Then Galba pointed upwards, and we noticed a deep red rose hanging from the ceiling; anything said sub rosa is of the utmost secrecy, everyone knows that.
The Last Caesar Page 2