“Your clan stole them from us” Flavius Aetius replied coldly, his voice rising, “whatever the law said.” He turned and shook his head before he looked back. “We have no history Furius. Whatever there was is as cold and dead as our forefathers. And now you bring me here to gloat? To tell me how badly my family is faring in the quagmire left by the invasion that you put to the sword with your god-given strength.” He shook his head. “Your family has risen like a star shooting across the sky Furius. A sky that at one time both our families shared. But now” he spat on the ground “I see nothing but treachery in your words. You and your Capitol Men, you’ve taken the best land, filled your coffers with gold by forcing others to do your will and left us with nothing. You want to help me? Bring back my brothers from their graves at the Allia, give me back the ships the Gaul’s destroyed, buy back the houses and land that we’ve had to sell to that rat Javenoli in order to feed our children.” He shook his head before his dark eyes looked up at Marcus. “You offer nothing Furius, nothing that will stop the feud that your forefathers started when they took our lands. I have no ships, no land and no future” he shrugged as he spoke. “Why I came here?” he shrugged again as he looked to his companion. “I don’t know” he said as his voice trailed into silence.
“I come to offer a solution.”
“A solution to what?” said Flavius, almost shouting now.
“let’s go Marcus, the dog doesn’t want to talk” said the man at Marcus’ shoulder. “Let him rot, let them all rot. I told you it would be no use talking to them.” He threw a look of disgust at the tall man across from them.
“No Lucius” replied Marcus. “We’ve discussed this, and the Aetius clan will be a part of the future of Rome” he replied. “The signs told of long dead friendships beginning again, of trade and ships. This is right” he said quickly and loudly. Lucius tightened his lips and glowered at Flavius for a moment before nodding at Marcus and folding his arms across his chest as he squared his shoulders to the room in general.
Marcus turned back to Flavius. “Hear me out Flavius Aetius” he said calmly “and if you decide that you want no part of my solution to Rome’s problem, then leave, we’ll never speak of this meeting again.” He took a scroll from a pouch at his hip and held it out, Flavius’ confused face questioning what it was as he took it. “That is the deed to the house on the Aventine” he said. Flavius couldn’t help but give a little gasp as he stared at the scroll and then back at Marcus, open mouthed, before opening the scroll and bending his head to the candle light to look over the deed, his companion moving in closer as well. Both men whispered urgently as they cast glances back and forth between the scroll and both Furii brothers.
“Is this trickery?” he asked guardedly.
“No” replied Marcus. “Listen to what I say, join me and the deeds, and more” he added cryptically, “will be yours.” Flavius rolled the scroll back on the wooden frame and looked up as he scratched at his neck and motioned for Marcus to continue. “Tomorrow the senate will announce the list of those standing for the new consuls, with the tribunes of the plebs announced the following day. The Furii have worked closely with some of the other families to place men in positions which will influence the future of Rome. To this end we will begin a plan to reinforce the city, develop the walls and turn the old palisades into new stockades which will help with our defences. The new army, paid for by the population, will be sworn in, with six new generals. Each man has been put forward to the assembly for their special military skills, but, as you know, some of the clans vote for those who pay the largest fee.” At this Flavius nodded once again. “I’m asking for your clan and its relations to vote for these men.” Lucius handed him another scroll, which Flavius took slowly, his eyes catching his companions as they, again, bent their heads to the candle light.
Both Aetius brothers spent a moment whispering quietly as they perused the list and its implications before Flavius spoke. “My brother Artus thinks there must be more to this than simply buying my clans vote, Furius” he said expectantly.
Marcus smiled. “Indeed, there is Flavius. When the votes are cast and the new consuls are in place I will be setting up a mission to some of the states across the sea to buy more grain and other resources, we are weak at the moment” he said calmly. “I will need a captain to oversee the trip. Someone I believe I can trust” he added slowly as he looked hard into his eyes. Flavius inclined his head. “Rome needs to become stronger Flavius. The Gaul’s proved that we are not invincible and that we must prepare for other tribes to move against us, as they surely will. Our families once stood in the Hastati together, spear to spear and shield to shield, I would have it so again” he added.
Flavius glanced to the list of names again as he rubbed his chin slowly. “There is danger in running as your captain, Furius. You know Javenoli and Cincinnatus have the resources in the city tied up, why not just ask them?”
Lucius grunted as Marcus spoke, both men sharing eye contact for a second. “Many families lost sons in the last year Flavius. Rich blood was mixed with poor on the fields of death.” He took a moment before continuing. “Rome is at a cross road. Behind us is the old way of doing things, the rich get richer, the poor poorer. Ahead of us is a stronger Rome in which all men work together and benefit for the efforts that they put into the state. One thing is certain though; that Rome will never survive if we do not change. Javenoli and Cincinnatus are the past Flavius. They represent a Rome in which only a few families hold power and in which men are defined by their birth and not by their merits. To the left is the road to Veii, as you know many of our fellow citizens wished to move their whole families to that city.” Flavius narrowed his eyes at this. “Yet it was not to be. The gods had spoken, and Veii will never be populated again” Marcus said with a measure of hostility in his voice. “To the right is a lesser stake in the Latin League, allowing other cities to have a greater voice as Rome tries to rebuild.” He shook his head. “Down that road I see Rome becoming a client state. That cannot be allowed to happen.” He looked at Flavius, his eyes sparkling in the candle light. “Ahead is our future, Flavius. A future in which Rome must change. We must rebuild the city, rebuild the state, strengthen the army and” he tightened his lips before speaking “expand. To survive we must go on the offensive, take our enemies lands and repopulate them with good Roman blood. Blood of both patrician and plebeian families” he added as he stared hard at Flavius, who was biting his bottom lip as he watched Marcus.
“And you have the backing of the senate for this?” Flavius asked.
Marcus gave a small half-laugh. “Many of the senior families are concerned that they have lost too many sons and too much land in the past year. They look down at their feet rather than up at the sky, Flavius. They need someone to lead them on the path ahead, to extend the reach of Rome before it turns left or right or stays stuck in the past. The gods have given me that power” Marcus said. “And to do that Rome needs all of its sons. Every man of every family must have a part to play in our future. But today, we need the men of influence to stand and make the changes that are needed to put our feet on the right road. The gods have signalled that past friends will bring future stability, and we must accept their ruling. As we speak there are several families who are hearing the same message, several more who are to be approached when the voting is cast. In this way we will create the movement that will carry Rome towards its inevitable future. The eagle of Rome has risen, Flavius, and its claws must be used to strike at our enemies, strengthen our grip on the peninsula and find the destiny that the gods have ordained for us.”
Flavius and his brother were nodding slowly at the words. “There is some sense in what you say Furius.” He lifted the list of names he’d been handed. “You say that others are talking to families across Rome. So why are you here and not talking to these men?” he asked.
Marcus took a slow breath and a small grin crept across his face. “As I say Flavius. Our families were once friends, but we
have been at odds for longer than most. We” and he motioned to Lucius as he continued “felt that only a visit from the heads of the Furii would be enough to gain your attention. Were we wrong?”
Flavius laughed mirthlessly. “We would not have listened to anyone else, you are right” he replied in a cold voice. He glanced to his brother before continuing. “I do not see the name Aetius in any of the men to be voted into key positions Furius” he said as he waved the list slowly from side to side with a frown.
Marcus grinned as Lucius, also grinning, took another wax tablet from his sleeve and handed it to Marcus, who passed it to Flavius. “As you will see, the families in our alliance have suggested four roles for your clan, with a place in the college of priests as an additional incentive” he said as he waited and watched the two men look down the list of roles to which their family members would be placed. Both men were nodding as they whispered and glanced back at the Furius brothers once again, heads huddled together.
“You play a dangerous game Marcus Furius” said Flavius as he scratched at his chin again. “I want the contracts for the shipping rights for ten years” he said quickly “with the sole right to buy them again when that term finishes” he added as his brother nodded sharply.
Marcus looked to Lucius, who nodded. “Agreed” he said.
“There is one more thing, Furius” said Flavius with a glance to his brother. “There is news that the Volsci are inciting the tribes against the new taxes. I have it on authority that there are many who are gathering to march against Rome.”
“What?” gasped Marcus as he tensed and looked to Lucius. “Tell me more.”
Chapter 3
Javenoli sighed as he sat on the pillow-strewn reclining couch. His eyes closed for a moment as he allowed his mind to relax and let his shoulders droop. The last day of the festival to mark the smashing of the army of Brennus had seen him take part in no more than seven sacrifices at seven different temples, each in various states of repair after being destroyed by the Gaul’s. Camillus had ordered all the temples to be re-consecrated, and as Pontifex Maximus he had been given the larger temples in which to perform the correct rituals, which had meant several long trips up the slopes around the central forum. His weary hand gladly took a cup of watered wine from a lithe slave, his dark olive skin burned across his forearm with a brand which marked him as a temple slave.
“Shall I bring the food to you here, Master?”
Javenoli opened his eyes and nodded. “Please Andronius” he said as he sipped the cool liquid. The slave bowed and left the room, his bald head shining in the candlelight. Javenoli smiled to himself as he took a small cloth bag from the floor where he had placed it when he had returned to his new home behind the sacred grove of the Vestals temple. He pulled the drawstring and took the rolled vellum from inside, placing it on a small table in front of him before casually throwing the bag onto the edge of the chair. He unrolled the vellum and started to run his fingers along the rows of neatly ordered lines, symbols and numbers flashing across his eyes. As he creased his brow, his thoughts working through which festivals he must attend in the coming days he glanced up as Andronius re-appeared with two young female slaves each carrying a tray of sweet smelling delicacies. Javenoli smiled as he adjusted his position on the chair and picked up the cloth bag, replacing the list back inside with tight lips.
“I feel I must find a way to delegate some of these duties” he nodded towards the bag “to some of the priests and acolytes” he mumbled as Andronius waved the serving girls towards a series of small tables he had quickly set next to his master.
“Indeed, sir” the slave replied as his eyes cast a quick look at Javenoli before he added, cautiously, “Sir, Marcus Manlius Capitolinus has requested a visit this evening.”
The words had hardly left his mouth before Javenoli sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. “Again?” he said as his head moved from side to side wearily. “The man is a constant thorn in my foot, whichever way I turn I seem to stand on him” he added as he let his head droop to his chest, his eyes closing.
“Shall I decline, master?”
Javenoli simply waved the suggestion away with a sweep of his hand as he set his face towards the delicacies that had been laid before him. “When is he coming?” he asked, the weary eyes already knowing the answer by the pained expression on Andronius’ face.
“The messenger suggested he would be arriving before the feast in honour of Camillus, master” Andronius said with a slow bow as he stepped backwards and picked up the wine jug, moving quickly to re-fill Javenoli’s cup.
Javenoli closed his eyes again as he allowed his frustration to slowly ebb away in a long breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes tightly together. Manlius, or Capitolinus as he now preferred to be called, had been at his house every day for the past month checking if any new gossip from the Capitol men, those who had organised the victory games, or from Camillus himself, was available. The incessant questioning was becoming an irritant and Javenoli often wished he hadn’t agreed to his pact with Capitolinus. Capitolinus was impatient to force change by challenging the ruling elite, but Javenoli was prepared to wait for their plans to take fruition, years if necessary. In the dark days on the Capitol Hill they’d discussed subduing all the tribes of Italy and creating an empire which stretched into the Greek lands across the water. Capitolinus would be a great warrior king and Javenoli would be first citizen, in charge of all financial, legal, agricultural and religious matters, bringing Jupiter’s name to every hostile land they conquered. Javenoli smiled at how simple all their plans had seemed as they sat on the Capitol month after month waiting for the Gaul’s to leave. First citizen wasn’t too far removed from what he was doing now, he thought. The Pontifex was still a puppet of the state, but he had new outlets to grow his wealth due to the power of the position and his business interests were now reaching beyond all his expectations. The usual clan groups had flourished as Rome began to settle back into its old commercial ways and the men who had run the city before the Gaul’s had, almost to a man, taken control as if the city had never been ransacked.
Javenoli had all but given up any thoughts of ruling Rome and was prepared to stretch out his current business deals and let the gods decide the final destination to which they would all travel. But Capitolinus wasn’t prepared to wait. He wanted to raise an army, paid for with Javenoli’s gold, and overthrow the Senate. They’d argued time and again about the idea, and Capitolinus had angered many of the men who were supporters of change, though they hadn’t been told of Capitolinus’ desires for the crown, or his desire to strike at the Senate immediately. Camillus remained a thorn in their planning. The man was incorruptible and held such sway with the majority of Romans that they couldn’t move until either he was removed or fell from grace. They still called him the second founder of Rome and padre to the city. Many more of the patrician clans were also openly hostile to Capitolinus since he had started to rage against patrician treatment of plebeians and had continually called up Jupiter, greatest and best, to use him as his earthly tool to empower Rome in these ‘dark days’, as he called them, throwing out his right arm and telling the world that he had been chosen by Jupiter to lead all of Rome. How to deal with Capitolinus was talking far too much of Javenoli’s time.
Coming out of his momentary daydream Javenoli spoke. “I will change before he arrives” he said as he rose from the chair and started to pad across towards the door. “Set out the chairs and some food and wine Andronius” he called back over his shoulder as the two serving girls followed him out of the room.
Within a half hour the thudding of Capitolinus’ staff had been heard on the door and the man himself had been noisily let into the large living space where Andronius had already filled a silver cup with sweet wine and two burly bodyguards loitered in the shadows. Capitolinus stood in the doorway, his right arm across his stomach with a thick fold of his toga neatly arrayed across his forearm as he cast a furtive glance aroun
d the room. He caught the slaves bow. “Andronius, where is the old rascal?” he added quickly. “He is here I take it?”
“Yes, master” the slave replied as he continued to bow. “He is changing from his religious robes into his evening clothes” he added as he let his arm slowly wave Capitolinus towards a plush red-covered seat. Capitolinus glanced over his shoulder and lifted his chin to beckon the figure behind him to come forward. As he did so a tall, thin lady stepped into the room, her dark eyes coolly appraising the furnishing and living space. Her eyes caught the slave as he bowed and waved her towards a smaller chair, backless but with ornately carved legs and a thick oak frame. Capitolinus moved forwards, the metal-tipped staff he used as both a walking stick and a cudgel, with which to beat the constant stream of beggars who littered the city, clicked on the stone floor as he moved.
Andronius clapped his hands and a young boy appeared, his white tunic with a thin green stripe along the hem ruffled as he came to a stop in front of the housemaster. “Water for the mistress Garvi” he whispered slowly before the boy turned and moved quickly towards the doorway.
The King of Rome Page 3