‘I can give you a kiss goodbye if you like,’ I said, playing the game.
‘I suppose that will have to do.’ She raised herself on to her knees, reached for me, and then I gave her a long, ardent kiss.
* * *
The warmth in my heart could have melted the snow that covered my walk to the camp. For all her faults, I did love my wife dearly. I could not have done what I was about to do if she had not been behind me all the way. But looking back on that day, seated here at my desk, friendless and alone, I wonder if it would not have been better if she simply played the role of a demure and dutiful wife. We might have been spared what was to come.
The guards on duty told me to halt, and asked for the password.
‘Aurora,’ I called up. The goddess of dawn. Tuscus must have a poetic streak in him somewhere, I thought.
The men were filing back to their billets after morning parade as I walked through the camp. Those nearest the square were already huddled around the braziers, vying for space near the warmth. Their breath wisped up into disparate trails on that freezing morning, but I had a little longer to wait before I could retreat to the warmth of my office. I saw one of the senior centurions on the corner of the parade ground, talking quietly to two legionaries. He spotted me, smiled, and gently nodded. It was beginning.
I made my way around the camp, searching for each centurion who had been a guest the night before. I needed to know how they were doing in sounding out the picked men who would lead the way in the next few hours. Some had not yet had a chance for a private word with them, others had been more successful. Several could already promise me the whole-hearted support of their centuries. One or two had even approached men from the wider cohort. I was nervous about that; if they spoke to the wrong men then the secret would be out. But these were the first-rank centurions, they commanded respect by their very bearing, and they knew their men. Even Sertorius, when I chanced upon him in the mess, was enthusiastic. He had been surly last night, but you can’t please everyone. He was one of those officers who resent being junior to younger men, and as I had not even reached the age of thirty yet, I was a particular affront to him. But young or old, this was too good an opportunity for an ambitious man to turn down, and Sertorius had done his bit.
There were only two people left to see. The men threw me smart salutes as I strode towards the meeting place. Some were almost grinning in anticipation, and there was an air of fevered excitement. The stink of horseflesh got stronger and stronger as I neared my last port of call. A groom saw me coming and held open the door for me. Stepping over the dollops of muck and straw, I made my way to Achilles’s stall. Nepos and Tuscus were waiting for me.
‘Leave us, boy,’ Tuscus said to the young groom. ‘We are not to be disturbed, you hear?’
‘Yes, Prefect.’
The three of us waited in silence as the groom scuttled off. I took a brush from a shelf in the stall and started to give Achilles a good rub-down.
‘Things look encouraging, sir,’ Nepos began.
‘Very encouraging,’ Tuscus echoed.
‘All the right men have been spoken to. The word is spreading,’ Nepos continued. ‘No problems at our end. Have you considered, sir, how the governor is going to react to this?’
‘Flaccus? He doesn’t command any legion, and he’s ill at the moment anyway. He won’t get involved. But I suppose it would be no bad thing to double the guard on his quarters. Was there anything else?’ I asked.
The two men exchanged nervous glances.
‘What?’
‘You haven’t heard, then?’ Tuscus said. His tone made it a statement rather than a question.
‘Well, obviously I haven’t heard, or I wouldn’t be asking!’
‘The two new tribunes are expected to arrive at any moment, hand-picked by the emperor probably. They could ruin everything.’ Tuscus left the news hanging. ‘It’s not too late to call the whole thing off, sir.’
I casually resumed brushing Achilles’s chestnut coat in long, straight sweeps along his back.
‘Or we could delay them until after the ceremony, sir?’ Nepos suggested.
‘I don’t expect any trouble from either of them, Nepos.’
‘Sir?’
‘The junior tribune will hardly be in a position to argue when he finds out what’s going to happen.’
‘Surely your second in command will have something to say though, sir?’ Nepos enquired.
I chuckled. ‘I’m sure he will.’
* * *
My talk with Tuscus and Nepos had calmed me down a bit. Everything that could be done had been done, and there was little left to do but pray for success. I was worried about Flaccus though; he was a well-meaning, doddering old fool, but who knows what the legion might do now that their officers had been stirring them into rebellion? Unleashed from their oath of loyalty to the emperor, what was to stop them from running riot? Only the officers would be able to keep them at heel, the ones who were encouraging the rebellion in the first place. That was why I had made sure that Salonina and Aulus had horses at the ready. Apart from the treasury, my home was the nearest place that had any valuables. Yes, I commanded the Macedonica, but who’s to say that would stop the Twenty-Second or the auxiliaries from Germania, or even my own men? After all, I had only been in command a few months. Was that long enough to instil a sense of loyalty and respect?
The minutes shuffled by. An hour passed, then another. Midday was fast approaching and my insides were beginning to squirm. I didn’t dare have any breakfast that day for fear of bringing it straight back up. Instead I sat in my office, quietly shivering. At long last, the clatter of hooves announced new arrivals to the camp.
The muted sounds of greeting and introductions echoed along the corridor and into my office: muffled voices, the stamping of feet to get the blood flowing again, one of the clerks directing the newcomers towards me. There was a knock.
A pale face, surrounded by a shock of blond hair, appeared round the door.
‘Legate Severus?’
‘You must be Tribune Curtius. Come in out of the cold.’ He held the door open for the man behind him. Grinning, Quintus stepped in and saluted.
‘Tribune Vindex reporting for duty, sir.’
‘At ease, both of you,’ I said. ‘No need to stand on ceremony here. I’ll keep this brief; it’s only half an hour or so until the legion takes the oath of allegiance. First of all, welcome, both of you, to the Fourth Macedonica. I have only been in command a few months myself, but the men and officers alike are used to the high turnover of senior officers and they adapt quickly. You will have to do the same. The camp prefect, a dependable man, Gaius Tuscus, will tell you your duties, have you shown to your quarters and generally help you settle in. I like to think that I am an approachable commander, so feel free to knock on my door at any time. Within reason of course.’
Curtius gave a nervous smile.
‘And now if you don’t mind, Curtius, I’d like to have a word with my second in command. If you go into the corridor, the door opposite is Prefect Tuscus’s. He will sort you out.’
‘Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.’
* * *
Once the door had closed, I got up and gave Quintus a great bear hug.
‘It’s been too long, Quintus.’
‘It has. I leave you alone for just a few months, and now you’re commanding a legion.’
‘You’re not doing so badly yourself. Your first military posting and you’re the senior tribune in one of the Rhine legions. You must have friends in high places.’
‘Yes, Lugubrix got your message to me after I relinquished Father’s province to one of Galba’s men, Blaesus.’
‘And how are the rest of your family?’ The smile disappeared from Quintus’s face. ‘Still in mourning. My two older brothers died very young, Sextus is dead, which leaves just my two sisters and Mother.’
‘So you’re head of the family now?’ I asked.
‘For what
that’s worth. I mean, isn’t the name Vindex going to look a bit suspicious to the men?’
‘Only a little,’ I reassured him. ‘You can say he was a distant relation if you like. You should see how many Severi there are in Rome, and none of them closer to me than cousin. I barely know any of them.’
Suddenly a shrill series of blasts announced that it was time for the oath.
‘Gods, already?’ I murmured. ‘Look, there isn’t time to explain, but something big is going to take place, Quintus. Whatever happens, keep close to me. Understand?’
Quintus looked puzzled. ‘All right, but why can’t you tell me what’s going on?’
‘Not now. But it’ll be just like old times,’ I said, with a hint of a grin. ‘Come on, we should take our places for the oath.’
One of the grooms was waiting for me with Achilles. I hauled myself into the saddle, then led Quintus along the cobbled path towards the parade ground. The Fourth were falling in. Officers were taking up their positions in front of their men. The junior tribunes stood around an old podium that had been brought out for the occasion. I told Quintus to join them, and sought out Tuscus.
‘Is that the new senior tribune?’ Tuscus asked, glancing at Quintus.
‘It is. He’s an old friend, and won’t be any trouble.’
‘Good.’ The prefect looked worried, and rightly so. Of the two of us, he had never betrayed his emperor. In a few short minutes, I thought to myself, we would all be rebels. Then the man turned pale, and I don’t mean he looked a bit cold, but downright terrified. I turned to see what had scared him. Hordeonius Flaccus had just rounded the corner.
Damn the man. Why did he have to recover, and why did he feel the need to involve himself in army affairs? He and half a dozen guards were heading straight for the podium.
‘He’s only going to administer the bloody oath isn’t he?’ Tuscus said incredulously. ‘We could call it off?’ He looked at me, almost pleading.
I looked sharply at him. ‘Call it off? Never. I’d look just as much a ditherer as Flaccus, or Rufus before him. We’ve committed ourselves now. Get Nepos, and see to it that a detachment of reliable men surrounds the podium if there’s any sign of trouble. You’ve seen how fractious the men can be. I don’t want any harm to come to the old man. It’s Galba we’re rejecting, not Flaccus.’
There was an excited murmur from the men as they saw Flaccus hobble up the steps and clamber on to the podium. As his guards took their places, the murmur became louder and crosser. The chief augur led a small body of men who carried the two statues of Galba, which stood as proxy for the emperor when the oath was taken. Both statues were conspicuously new, and neither showed the comical nose or the sagging jowls of the emperor, but rather a wise and dignified face. The sculptor had clearly been under strict orders to present an idealistic image of Galba, and had done a good job, but these statues now became the focal point of the legion’s resentment and anger.
The noise would not die down, even when Flaccus stamped his staff (or rather his walking-stick) on to the wooden boards beneath him.
‘The Fourth Macedonica will be silent before they swear the oath,’ he bawled shrilly. We officers took up our positions as the augur joined Flaccus on the stage to prompt the governor if he forgot the oath’s words. Tuscus was urgently whispering to Nepos, passing on my instructions.
Flaccus began: ‘The gods will observe on this auspicious day that we here renew our oath of loyalty and obedience to the empire and our emperor, Servius Sulpicius Galba Caesar. May he protect Rome from all her enemies and bring good fortune and prosperity to all his people.’
Then the old man turned to Nepos and his men, for the oath was sworn one cohort at a time.
‘Men of the first cohort, will you give your sacred pledge of loyalty and obedience to the emperor? To defend his empire, to fight all who oppose him, and to lay down your lives for him?’
There was a moment’s uncertainty, as though each and every man under Nepos’s command had only just realized the enormity of what they were about to do. Nepos took a pace forward.
‘No!’ he shouted. Flaccus and the augur looked stunned.
‘We will not lay down our lives for an emperor who has treated his legions so shamefully. The Fourth has always acted with honour and loyalty to the empire. Did we not defeat the Gauls in Nero’s name? We placed ourselves at the disposal of the Senate and People of Rome when we heard of Nero’s death. Now it seems that they were wrong to choose Galba, a man who has ignored our loyalty, rewarded our enemies, and treated the volunteers at the Milvian Bridge without shame or mercy. We of the first cohort demand that the Senate and People of Rome choose again. Are you with me, Macedonica?’
It seemed as though the entire world roared its approval of Nepos’s words, and hundreds of men charged straight for the podium. Flaccus stood there, rooted to the spot. Even from ten yards away I could see his weak leg beginning to buckle. The sea of red began to part either side of the podium. They were making for the statues of Galba. The eighth cohort was nearest, and clearly word of my plans had not reached many of their number. Four brave, loyal centurions reached the statues, drew their swords and prepared to defend their emperor. That stopped the first eager mutineers in their tracks. Nepos took the opportunity to climb the podium with some picked men, then forced Flaccus to his knees. The centurion must have realized that the only way to keep Flaccus safe was to arrest him, rather than appear as the governor’s defender, like the brave but condemned officers protecting the cold marble likenesses a few feet below him.
* * *
Quintus looked dazed. I shouted at him to grab my hand, and heaved him up so that he sat behind me in the saddle. ‘Did you plan this?’ he shouted over the noise.
‘Later,’ I shouted back. I tried force Achilles through the crowd to reach Nepos. Thankfully the men had no intention of attacking me, but just swarmed round my frightened horse as they charged at the statues. I saw the first blow. One legionary had used his shield to batter a centurion to the ground, and another officer retaliated. There was a bellow of rage as he killed one man and wounded another, and he was swiftly knocked out by a blow to the head. The other two centurions were disarmed and became prisoners of the mob. Galba’s two statues, robbed of their defenders, were picked up by eager men and smashed against the ground. There was a huge cheer as Galba’s head broke clean off and rolled away. Controlling the men was out of the question, but I heard some men shouting that they should join the Twenty-Second, and the call was taken up by the whole legion.
The heaving mass of men began to change direction, awkwardly manoeuvring to head towards the far end of camp, where no doubt Vocula had his men on parade, waiting for Flaccus to oversee Primigenia’s swearing of the oath. Yells of victory and delight filled the air, but the square slowly began to empty. Within five minutes, the only men left were Quintus and me, Nepos and his men, Flaccus and Tuscus. There was one corpse. The augur had panicked and tried to escape, fallen off the podium and broken his neck.
Tuscus spat to ward off evil. ‘That doesn’t bode well.’
Nepos spoke to me from up on the platform. ‘What now, sir?’
‘The men know to come back here once Primigenia have joined them?’
‘Yes, sir. They won’t leave camp. All the officers are with them. Perhaps I should get over there and try to restore some order?’
‘I’ll lend you Achilles so you stand out better.’
The centurion looked thrilled. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Don’t get used to it,’ I joked.
Flaccus found his voice. ‘Do you know what you’ve done, man? You’ve incited the legions to rebel. You’re starting a civil war!’
‘Galba started it, not me,’ I replied. Quintus and I got down to the ground, while Nepos used the podium as a mounting block, and rode away towards Primigenia.
‘Besides,’ I continued, ‘if I hadn’t taken control the legion would have rebelled anyway, after the other legions on the Rhi
ne did, but it would have been bloody. I saved your life, Governor, and the lives of the centurions who were loyal to Galba.’
‘You don’t expect me to congratulate you, do you?’ Flaccus asked.
‘I expect you to go back into Mogontiacum, Governor, and to stay there. Galba may have appointed you, and you are still nominally in command of this province. The new emperor will want your loyalty.’
‘New emperor? Who?’
‘That is for the Senate and People of Rome to decide.’
‘You mean for you to decide,’ Flaccus sneered.
I allowed myself a small smile. ‘Perhaps.’
XXIV
All of a sudden there came a cry of triumph from the other side of the camp. We heard the sound of two legions screaming with one voice. I was uneasy. Of course it was a momentous event, the legions casting aside their loyalty to their emperor, but it was hardly something to celebrate. Why the sounds of victory? My head was teeming with questions, but there was no one to ask. Each man there was as clueless as the next. The first hint of what was to come was the trail of smoke that rose into the sky.
‘Sweet Jupiter,’ Quintus said. None of us uttered a word. We just stood there, the implications beginning to sink in.
‘See what you’ve done,’ wailed Flaccus. ‘The men are rebelling!’
‘Tuscus, I thought you told me everything was under control?’
‘It was. All the right people knew what had to be done. I can’t understand it.’
‘Maybe you have some men who think about themselves first and the legion second,’ suggested Quintus.
The Last Caesar Page 27