by R. W. Peake
"That bastard Legate is charging Urso with dereliction of duty!"
Such was Lutatius' excitement that he used the Primus Pilus' old nickname, yet at the moment, the uproar was such that even if others had heard him, nobody would have cared. While I had assumed the turmoil I was seeing was caused by something like this, I had to catch myself before I said anything that would get me in even more trouble with my comrades, like bursting out in a cheer.
"Do you know the specifics?" I asked him, trying to appear at least partially upset.
"What do you care?" Caecina had managed to sidle up from behind me. "Don't pretend you're not happy about this!"
"I'm not going to," I knew I sounded defensive, yet I felt compelled to point out, "but it also depends on what the cause for the charges are." I made sure to look Caecina in his good eye. "And you should be worried about that as well."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Caecina shot back, and there was something in his manner that convinced me he did not possess the same information I did.
Cursing under my breath, I decided to share what I knew, even as a part of me argued it was a bad idea, whereupon I reminded myself knowing that had never stopped me before. Don't start changing now, Titus, I vividly recall thinking as I made my decision.
"Follow me," I said abruptly, heading to the far edge of the forum while saying to Lutatius, "Go find everyone from our section you can find. We'll be over there." I pointed to where I was heading.
We had to push our way through the thronged men of the 8th, who were still shouting their displeasure at the news, although whoever had been the bearer of the message was no longer standing on the porch of the Praetorium. Which, I thought, I don't blame him for a bit, although I doubted it had actually been the Legate himself. Reaching the spot I had chosen, just a dozen paces from the outermost ring of men who were facing in the opposite direction, waving their fists and generally howling incoherently at this point, I stopped with Caecina, Mela, Geta, Glabrio, and Sido.
"What's this about?" Caecina demanded, but I refused to answer him, telling him he would have to wait.
Fortunately, it did not take long before Lutatius arrived with Bestia, Ventidius, Avitus, and Quirinus. The only men missing were Domitius and Didius who were still in the hospital. I believe this was when it hit me how our ranks had been thinned just in the months since I had joined the section.
"Ahenobarbus found the armor the Primus Pilus was selling to the Colapiani," I began, deciding to jump in immediately for a number of reasons.
As I expected, Caecina reacted the most strongly, his face going so pale that, for an instant, it almost matched the color of his bad eye. Mela, as usual, glanced at Caecina first, as if looking to see what reaction he should have, while Geta, newly joined to Caecina, just looked confused. The others' reactions varied, but Bestia's was the most violent.
"You mean that's how those cunni got that kit?" he gasped, his surprise instantly turning to rage.
"Yes," I answered, though I hurried on, not wanting to dwell on this point long. "But what's important right now is whether or not this fact is part of the charges of dereliction. Did anyone manage to hear, or did they even say what the specifics were?"
For a moment, nobody replied, and I looked at each man.
"It got really noisy," Lutatius mumbled, "so I didn't hear much, but I did hear something about the Colapiani."
"I didn't hear anything about them, but I heard the bastard say something about the Varciani," Sido said, which we all found confusing, spending the next few moments discussing a possible meaning.
"What are you doing?"
As one, we spun to see Asinius striding toward us, and my comrades suddenly looked around as if there was some place to hide; if they had, in fact, found a spot, I would have been with them.
"We're trying to find out the exact specifics of the charges." I decided to be honest with Asinius.
"Why didn't you come look for me?" he asked, but none of us answered.
Sighing disgustedly, he said, "Fine. I know. I'm still new to the Century. Well, I happen to know the specifics because the Legate called a meeting of the Centurions and Optios of the entire Legion to read them to us."
"And?" Caecina's tone was understandably nervous, both wanting and not wanting to know.
"According to the charge, the Primus Pilus is accused of dereliction of duty in the actions of the other night by moving prematurely against the Colapiani. According to the Legate, his worst offense was not as much in acting alone with just us, but that he had supposedly been informed by mounted scouts that the Varciani had joined the rebellion, and were moving to link up with the Colapiani. By attacking prematurely, the Varciani were forewarned, and escaped before the 13th could come down from the north and the 15th from the west and close what the Legate called 'his net' around them."
The silence lasted for a few heartbeats as we all tried to absorb this, but I could see just from the expressions of the others that they saw the same problem I did.
"That doesn't make any sense." It was Lutatius who broke the silence. "The 13th was coming from the north, right? And the 15th from the west."
"And we were coming from the south," Caecina finished for Lutatius. "With the Varciani coming from the east, how the fuck were we supposed to, what was it, 'close his net'?" Caecina made no attempt to mask his scorn.
"That," Asinius agreed, "is a good question. But does it really matter? The Legate seems determined to go through with this."
"Fucking bastard." Geta spat on the ground, making the sign of the evil eye as he did. "This isn't just!" He looked up suddenly and declared, "We need to do something!"
"Like what?" Lutatius asked, but to my unease, he did not seem opposed to the idea; from his tone, it sounded like he was looking for Geta to provide a suggestion.
Glancing around, I saw that I was in the minority, all of my comrades seemingly eager to hear what Geta had in mind. Of course, I could have told them he had just exhausted his arsenal of ideas.
"I...I don't know exactly," he mumbled, prompting some jeers from the others, and he turned defiant. "I don't hear any of you coming up with anything!"
As we talked, I used my height to scan the crowd of men in the forum, and it was easy to see many conversations like this were taking place. Men had stopped shouting their protests, yet the noise was only marginally less as they turned their minds from a general sense of outrage to coming up with a specific plan of action. This, I thought grimly, is not going to end well, for anyone; I was acutely aware that any man who was part of a mutinous Legion would be tainted from that point onward, no matter what his role was. However, there was one piece of information none of us possessed at the time; one that, if we had known it, might not have made most of the men any happier, but in all likelihood, they would have taken the news with little surprise and, most importantly, it would have convinced them to stay their hand against the Legate's actions.
"This," Asinius told me that night, "isn't what it looks like."
Responding to a curt summons to attend to him, once more, I was uncomfortably aware that I had not been the only one to receive it; Caecina was seated next to me, in Asinius' quarters.
Exchanging a glance with my rival, I saw he was equally wary, but as curious as I was, and I gave him a nod to indicate I was content to let him do the talking, at least at first. It was not out of any charity or as a peace offering; I never lost sight of the fact that he was, in fact, very clever, and would be likely to ask the right questions.
And he started by asking, "If it's not what it looks like, then what is it?"
Asinius was sitting behind his desk, while he had Flaccus bring another stool so that Caecina and I could be seated in front of him.
After a moment of silent consideration, our Optio replied, "I'm fairly sure this is nothing more than a shakedown on the part of the Legate."
Once more, I found myself looking over at Caecina, but rather than looking surprised, I saw a grim
smile on his face, as if he had learned something that confirmed a suspicion.
"How do you know this?" I asked Asinius.
"I don't." He shrugged. "At least, not with any certainty. But, let's just say one of my little birds – this one's in town – tells me that the Legate recently ran into some trouble."
"What kind of trouble could he be in that has anything to do with this?" Caecina's puzzlement matched mine.
"The expensive kind of trouble." Asinius smiled, or leered, more accurately. "I suppose you've heard the rumors of his…diversion in town?"
"You mean he's fucking some merchant's wife?" Caecina's tone was dismissive. "So what?"
"Not just some merchant," Asinius corrected him. "It's true that the cuckolded husband has business interests, but he's a bit more than that. So I take it you aren't aware of the identity of the victim?" We both shook our heads, and now his smile broadened as he supplied the name. "The woman is Tullia Livinia."
"You mean," both Caecina and I gasped, but he was the one who managed to speak first, "Lucius Julius Livinius’ wife?"
"The very same," Asinius agreed.
Our Optio was certainly correct that this man, while technically of the merchant class, was much more than that. He had been one of the first Romans to come to Pannonia, taking advantage of the wide-open nature of a frontier town, quickly building a vast business. The wine we drank, the olive oil we consumed, the grain we ate; all of these things came through one of Livinius' holdings. In recognition of his service to Rome, he had been appointed one of the two duumviri of the town, but whereas the identity of the other duumvir changed every year, Livinius had always remained as one of the officers charged with the civil administration of Siscia, acting in the name of Rome. And, as one might expect, Lucius Livinius had established very strong connections there in our city. If rumor was to be believed, Livinius' patron had been none other than Gaius Maecenas, although the man himself had just died some months before. Now, it must be remembered that, of all the things our divine Augustus abhors, it is the kind of immorality we in the lower classes love to talk about, especially when it involves our social betters. Consequently, whereas the fact that a nobleman had dabbled with another man's wife would normally not be of any account, particularly of a lower class, the fact that the adulterer was one of Augustus' appointees, and the victim was a man of the wealth and connections as Lucius Livinius, might explain why we instantly accepted this as a possibility. However, there was still something bothering me.
"But, doesn't the Legate already have more than enough money to buy his way out of trouble?" I asked.
Asinius shrugged, replying, "You'd think so, but you know how it is, Pullus. Some of these old families have been living on their reputations alone, borrowing money to keep up appearances and keep them in the game." There was no need for him to explain the game to which he was referring; it is the great game the patricians of Rome have been playing, and I suppose will continue to play until the end of time. "More likely, he's just using this as an opportunity to take the Primus Pilus down, and make some more money in the process."
"Wait," Caecina interjected. "The only problem is that the Primus Pilus has been kicking money back to the Legate to keep his nose out of our business." He shook his head as he finished. "So all the Primus Pilus has to do is let the Legate know that he's going to take that bastard down with him by exposing that fact."
Asinius considered this, yet he did not appear impressed.
"The only way that would have worked," he pointed out, "is if the Primus Pilus had made that relationship clear before these charges. Now, if he points the finger at the Legate, who's going to believe him?"
"Unless," I surprised myself because I had not planned on saying it aloud, "he has some sort of proof that he can present that implicates the Legate."
I turned to Caecina, inquiring with a look, but he shifted uncomfortably, then shook his head.
"The only man who might know, other than the Primus Pilus, was Cossus. And he's dead now."
That surprised me a bit; obviously, I knew that Cossus was involved, because he had been with us on our trip to Topulcava. Yet, somehow, I had assumed that if Urso confided in anyone, it would be with one of the men from his own Century who, as he put it, belonged to him. And of those, Caecina struck me as the most likely, but clearly, that had not been the case.
"So," Caecina broke the silence by summing matters up, "this is likely to come to nothing, as long as the Primus Pilus is willing to give the Legate every sestertius he's trying to squeeze from him."
"That's what I think," Asinius agreed. "And from what I'm hearing from my birds, that's the most likely outcome."
We sat in silence for a moment, but I imagine my mind was no more or less busy than the other two men's. It was Caecina who broke the silence, but he ended up asking the same thing that was rattling around in my head.
"Why are you telling us this?"
"That's a fair question," Asinius granted. "And I'm not going to insult your intelligence by pretending I don't want something from you." Leaning forward, he pinned Caecina with a cold stare. "Remember what I told you. I don't trust you, at all. But," he relented, "I also know you love the Legion. And you have influence in this Century, but more importantly, you have influence with all of the men who worked for Urso." I cannot say with any certainty, but I suspect that Asinius' use of the nickname with Caecina was a calculated decision. "Those are the men I want you to go talk to, and spread the word to them about this."
"But you said yourself you don't know this for sure," he protested. "What if you're wrong?"
"If I'm wrong, does it really change anything as far as the Primus Pilus?" Asinius retorted. "But even if I am wrong, and we can keep a handle on the men so they don't do anything stupid, we can at least keep other men beside the Primus Pilus from suffering from this. Because make no mistake," his voice turned intense as he leaned forward to jab his finger at Caecina, "with the other two Legions as angry as they are, they'd love the excuse to come crack our heads because the men are creating a problem for the Legate. And ultimately, it won't stop anything from happening to the Primus Pilus anyway. If he's lucky," he finished, "he'll just lose money."
"'Just money'?" Caecina laughed bitterly. "You clearly have no idea how much we're talking."
"Better than losing his money and his career both. And maybe his life," Asinius countered.
There was no argument coming from Caecina about that. I, on the other hand, was not as happy at the idea that we would still have Urso; from my viewpoint, the fact that he was destitute and still in command was not a particularly pleasing prospect. I do not believe it was a stretch of the imagination to believe he would be in a horrible mood for the rest of his time under the standard.
Before we left, Asinius relayed a couple more pieces of information that, at the time, seemed to be interesting but barely relevant to our current situation.
"One thing that Ahenobarbus did when he was poking about the battlefield," he told us, "was look for Draxo's body."
"How would he know him?"
"Because he met him a couple years ago when the Legate had Draxo and the other chieftains here," Asinius told me, "before your time."
"And?" Caecina asked.
Asinius shook his head grimly. "He wasn't there."
I hissed a curse, but honestly, at the moment, I was not that concerned; it seemed to be more of a matter of waiting to hear that his body had been taken from the field by those Colapiani who had escaped.
"Also," Asinius continued, "the Legate ordered our ala of cavalry to keep an eye on the Varciani lands to make sure the band coming to join the Colapiani made it back home. They didn't, but that's the last that we've heard. We don't know where they are right now, and won't until the Decurion sends back word."