‘Good idea, Severus. I’ll have a word with the quaestor myself, and lean on him a bit.’
I couldn’t help but smile. The idea of Flaccus leaning on someone and it actually having an effect was comical. The Gauls talked briefly among themselves and the leader spoke once more.
‘That would be helpful, but it doesn’t solve our main problem, which is why we should pay extra tax in the first place.’
‘As I said, there I cannot help you at all.’
‘Very well, we will see what your men have to say about this.’ The whole lot of them made as if to withdraw.
‘One moment,’ Flaccus called.
‘Yes, Governor?’
‘I may not have been able to help you much, but it would be bad manners if I sent you back into this freezing weather with no refreshment. Won’t you stay and have some mulled wine?’
They did not refuse Flaccus’s hospitality. Who would turn down a free cup or two of mulled wine before a long, wintry journey? Flaccus came over to Vocula and me, and whispered conspiratorially.
‘I didn’t think it would be a good idea to let these Gauls talk to the men. I mean, we recruit heavily from these tribes, don’t we?’
‘We do, Governor,’ Vocula said.
‘Best not to let the men hear their families are having trouble, I thought, so we’ll keep them here in the warmth, and see that they leave as quietly as possible.’
At the time it seemed a diplomatic move, and Vocula and I agreed. However, almost everybody had seen the Gauls’ deputation arrive in the camp, and barely anybody saw them leave. By morning, ugly rumours were spreading round the camp, and at morning parade the men were convinced that the Gauls had been murdered in the night. The first I heard of it was when Totavalas woke me up hastily.
‘Master, master! Come quickly, the legions are rebelling!’
‘What?’ I asked, aghast.
‘The men think the Gauls have been murdered, and they’re demanding to see the ambassadors from the tribes.’
‘Get me my armour, and tell one of the slaves to have Achilles ready outside. Go on, there isn’t a moment to lose.’
* * *
Minutes later, I was galloping Achilles towards the camp. Already I could hear the angry shouts as the men protested. I bellowed up at the guards on the wall to open the gates, and Achilles pawed impatiently at the ground as they swung slowly open. I dug in my heels and entered the melee.
Swarms of men surged in the warren of streets and passages that covered the camp. Some centurions were lashing out with their staffs in an attempt to control the chaos. Others were swamped by the sheer weight of numbers. Achilles knocked a couple of men flying as we hit the crowd, and I prayed that the horse would keep the momentum going.
I shouted at the mob, ‘Go to the square, go to the square!’ until I was hoarse, and some of the quick-thinking officers joined in with their own cries. The noise was tremendous, as hundreds of sets of armour clattered against each other in the heaving mass. After what seemed like an age, the crowd started to shift, and I could just make out that many men were indeed heading towards the centre of the camp.
Slowly, we shepherded some of the more stubborn ones to join their comrades, as some of the tribunes had followed my lead and clambered on horseback as well. At long last, the legionaries were herded on to the parade square. The centurions and other officers formed a picket line round the mob. Old Tuscus was bleeding a little from his forehead. Many men were still shouting angrily. I caught sight of Flaccus at his bedroom window, his face a mask of horror.
Dropping the reins, I raised both hands in an effort to silence the men. A few stopped shouting.
‘Listen to me. Listen!’
Men began to nudge each other and point at me.
‘When you’ve quite finished!’ I bawled at them.
Silence at last.
I paused for a moment, looking at the mob in front of me. I shook my head sadly. Then at last I spoke, quietly.
‘You call yourselves soldiers of Rome,’ I said with disgust. ‘Soldiers of Rome do not rebel, soldiers of Rome do not attack their officers. But here we are. Prefect Tuscus,’ I called.
‘Yes, sir?’
‘In all your years of loyal service, have you ever seen anything as shameful as this?’
‘Never thought I’d live to see the day, sir.’
Some of the men looked down at their feet, but there were still far too many who stared at me defiantly. I was moments away from losing control of my command.
‘I ask myself, why would the famous and respected Rhine legions start a riot?’
I picked a random face from the crowd. ‘You, soldier, have you been paid on time?’
‘Yes, sir.’
I pointed at another one. ‘Are you fed regularly, and treated properly?’
‘But, sir…’
‘Answer the question, man!’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good. And what about you, Gratus? I’ve watched you teach my son to fight. Why do you now carry your sword against his father?’
The drill-master blushed, and sheathed his sword. ‘Forgive me, sir. We are worried for our families.’
‘And what have I done to make you fear for your families?’
A man hidden in the centre of the crowd shouted out, ‘Because you murdered the ambassadors, that’s why!’
‘Come out here and say that,’ I snapped.
I didn’t expect him to, but a tall man shoved his way to the front. I recognized him: Strontius. He was one of the men who had been recruited locally, and delighted in stirring up trouble. But why had he come forward?
‘I’ll say it again. You murdered the ambassadors. My cousin was one of them.’
‘And what if I gave you my word that the ambassadors haven’t been harmed? Would you be happy then?’
There was a murmur of agreement, but Strontius stood fast. ‘Why should we?’
‘Because when a senator gives you his word, that word actually means something. You realize I could have you executed for inciting a rebellion?’
‘You can try,’ Strontius said, gesturing to the hundreds of armed men behind him.
He was right, I daren’t have him executed. All I could do was threaten, for it would be a terrible show of weakness if I didn’t consider killing him. I slung myself out of the saddle, and approached the big man, close enough that I could smell the wine on his breath.
‘Drinking last night, were we?’ I smiled.
He said nothing.
‘I will make you an offer.’
‘An offer?’
‘If I prove that the delegates are alive, you will receive one hundred lashes.’
‘And if you can’t?’
‘Then by all means carry on with your rebellion. Agreed?’
Strontius looked me hard in the eye, and for half a heartbeat I thought he might attack me then and there.
‘Agreed.’
I looked around for one of my officers. ‘Tribune, you will detail eight men to ride in every direction to look for the ambassadors. Give each man a spare horse to bring back the Gaul who headed the delegation.’
‘Right away, sir.’
Vocula caught my eye, and I tried to look at ease as I walked over to him. He leaned down from the saddle, and spoke very softly.
‘What if we can’t find them?’
Gods, the thought hadn’t occurred to me. I was so confident in the knowledge that the Gauls hadn’t been killed that I had blithely assumed we would be able to find them without a hitch.
‘They must have spent the night nearby, and they can’t have gone far. It’s only an hour or so after dawn. We’ll find them.’
‘But what if we don’t? We’ll have a full-scale revolt on our hands.’
‘We’ll find them,’ I said confidently. Silently, I prayed that we would.
* * *
The minutes crawled by. There was nothing we could do but wait. I had mounted Achilles once more, partly to look autho
ritative in front of the men, but also because if things turned nasty I had to get back to the villa quickly and protect my family.
The men were nervous too. When your blood is up, you’re armed and your comrades are equally angry, it is easy to be swept away by the tide of events. Now they were having a period of cold reflection. Strontius was popular among the ranks, but as much as they didn’t want to see him flogged, they wanted to hear that the delegates were safe. Strontius himself looked resolute, his muscular arms crossed tightly in front of his barrel chest.
Half an hour passed. Some shuffled from one foot to the other to keep the circulation going. Others chatted, rubbing their hands to keep warm. Most stayed grimly silent. Tuscus was going round to each officer manning the cordon round the crowd, offering words of encouragement. Now there was a cool head in a crisis. I called for the surgeon to attend to his wound. Head wounds always look worse than they are, and Tuscus’s was little more than a long scratch, but it all helped to pass the time.
Almost an hour had gone by when we heard the clatter of hooves on the frosty cobbles. The sound came nearer and nearer, and the first rider was met with a disappointed sigh as we saw that he came back alone. A thought occurred to me. What if the group had split up? After all, they had met Governor Flaccus, albeit to no avail. They represented different tribes from the province. Why should they stay together? My only consolation was that the party had come on foot, so it stood to reason that they would leave on foot and my riders would easily catch up with them.
Another rider came in, and another and another. Each returned to the camp when he had covered as much ground as a man might have walked since dawn, perhaps eight miles.
The first angry mutterings were coming out, and they were only getting louder. Vocula was back at my side.
‘Where can they have got to?’ I was finding it hard to keep up the confident façade. My insides were churning. I half expected the troops to ignore my deal with Strontius and start rioting, with nothing in their way except a few dozen officers.
‘They’ll be here, you’ll see.’
And at that moment, my prayers were answered. Round the corner came two horsemen. One looked very pleased with himself, the other, a Gaul, was decidedly grumpy. Strontius bowed his head in defeat as the Gaul spoke out to the crowd.
‘My friends, you have nothing to fear. We did not get what we came for, but all of us left safely last night to stay in the town. Governor Flaccus was not able to help our families, but there has been no foul play, I promise you.’
‘You heard him, men. I am a man of my word. Now return to your quarters. Morning parade in half an hour, I think. Carry on, Tuscus.’
I left the prefect to it, gave a polite nod to the Gaul, and walked Achilles back towards the principia. On my way I passed the building where Flaccus was staying for the winter. The door opened, and the governor himself tottered out.
‘Crisis averted, Severus?’
‘You have impeccable timing, Governor,’ I said scathingly.
‘I wanted to come out, you understand. But I didn’t think I’d be much use, with this cursed leg of mine.’ The old man gave an apologetic smile.
‘Actually, I wish you had been there with us, sir.’
‘Do you really mean that, Severus?’
‘Of course. If I couldn’t stop a revolt with words, as a last resort we could have hidden behind you. Then they might have stopped out of pity. Good day, Governor.’
I had a right to be angry, as he was a cowardly old fool. He should have led by example, but instead he had quaked and shivered in his bedroom. And much good that would have done him if the men had broken out in rebellion.
* * *
A few minutes later I was still muttering darkly, but seated behind my desk. My mood was not improved by the mountain of work that the clerks had left me that morning. I started making my way through the pile, only to be interrupted.
‘Sorry, sir, a message has just come for you.’
‘Just add it to the pile, man.’
‘The messenger said it was urgent, sir.’
‘Very well, then,’ I said irritably. ‘Read it to me.’
I rubbed at my tired eyes, and leaned back as the clerk began to read.
‘“To the Legate Severus. The man I replaced you with in Hispania has forwarded on to me the testimony of a certain Greek clerk named Melander.”’
I froze. I already knew who the letter was from, and I didn’t like the words ‘testimony’ and ‘Melander’ being used in the same sentence. The clerk read on, nervously.
‘“This man claims that he has siphoned off one and a half million denarii from the public accounts in your name, and was offering to do the same for your successor.”’
‘Give that here!’ I shouted. I snatched the letter from the clerk and read the rest.
You have left me no choice but to have you tried on the charge of embezzlement. I expect you to continue your duties in Germania until the new year, when I shall send a more worthy man to take your place, and you will come to Rome.
Caesar
‘Shall I draft a reply, sir?’ the clerk asked. That brought me down to earth. My right arm shot out. I grabbed the pathetic creature’s neck and pinned him against the wall.
‘You will do nothing of the sort,’ I hissed at him. ‘You are going to forget all about this letter, or I will break you into pieces and feed you to the dogs.’
A ghostly pallor on his cheeks, the terrified man nodded frantically.
‘Yes, sir. I’ll forget it, sir.’
‘What have you forgotten?’ I asked, squeezing harder.
‘E-everything, sir,’ he croaked.
I let go and the man sank to his knees, clutching at his throat. He knelt there gasping.
‘Now get out.’
XXII
As soon as the clerk was out of the room, I screamed with rage. Grabbing the nearest pile of paperwork I hurled it at the wall. How dare Galba do this to me! After all I had done to get him his precious throne, he stabs me in the back.
Two guards rushed into my office, swords drawn.
‘What’s the matter, sir?’
‘Nothing’s the matter, get out.’
The two men looked around, at the papers strewn over the floor, at me, by now red in the face with rage.
‘We thought you were in trouble, sir,’ the other man said.
I laughed bitterly.
‘Not that kind of trouble. Now leave me alone.’
‘Yes, sir. Of course, sir.’
* * *
I could still barely believe it. What had I done to deserve this? It is an unspoken agreement that when assigned a province you make a bit of money for yourself. All right, some men went too far. That’s how Cicero made his name, bringing down the corrupt Verres. But I wasn’t corrupt. I didn’t even know how much Melander had made for me in Hispania, or himself for that matter, until Galba told me. One and a half million wasn’t much in the great scheme of things. So to charge me with embezzlement meant only one thing: Galba wanted to get rid of me.
Totavalas had been right. I had been too useful to Galba for my own good. I’d joined his conspiracy, helped with Agricola, run the entire Vindex campaign and somehow kept the Rhine legions loyal. That the letter should come today was particularly galling. My legion had been minutes away from full-scale rebellion, and would have gone over to Vitellius in an instant. And why was Galba so insistent that I should come at once? If an official like me is charged with breaking the law, normally the trial would take place at the end of his term of service. I had at the very least another two years of command left, and yet Galba had decided to replace me before my trial had even begun. The more I thought about it, the more I was afraid. And with Galba’s record, it wasn’t my career I was thinking of but my life.
Moments later I was out into the chilly air, calling the grooms for my horse.
‘Your horse, sir? But we’ve only just put him in the stables.’
‘Well, I
want him back again. And not tomorrow, boy, now!’
Achilles and I thundered across the open ground between the fort and my villa. The poor creature must have been bewildered, as he was put straight into the stables again when I came home.
‘Totavalas!’ I called.
‘Coming, master,’ a voice replied from deep inside the building.
The young man came in from the kitchens, his hands and forearms sprayed in blood. ‘Sorry, master, they needed help dispatching a wee lamb for supper.’
‘Never mind about the lamb. I need you to go into the town, back to that tavern, and find the landlord.’
‘You mean old Bel, sir?’
‘Be quiet and listen. I want you to give him a message for Fabius Valens, and it’s urgent.’
‘And the message, sir?’
Ah yes, the message. It had to be carefully worded; Lugubrix’s network might well be fast and discreet when the messages were for him, but I didn’t want everyone in Gaul knowing what I was about to do. But then if Valens had used it to contact me, it must be fairly safe.
‘The message is: “Agreed. In the new year.”’
‘You don’t mean…’
‘Yes I do. You were right, Galba has betrayed me. I gave him my loyalty, and he flung it in my face.’
‘It’s always the way, master.’
‘Yes, I see that now.’ I stood there, thinking deeply.
‘I’d best be off, sir.’ Totavalas stirred me from my reverie.
‘Hmm? Oh yes, you had. Where’s my wife?’
‘The mistress is in her chamber, master.’
* * *
As I strode purposefully towards our bedroom, I imagined the look on Salonina’s face when I told her the news. The slap of my sandals on the stone floor echoed along the corridor, and passing open doors I caught slaves trying to look busy as they heard someone approaching. The bedroom door was shut. I didn’t think to knock.
The Last Caesar Page 25