The King of Rome

by Francis Mulhern

  Justice would be served, Marcus thought as he nodded to Aemilius and half-heartedly wished both Fratinus and Bastudo ‘good fortune’ before moving to the side of the road and watching the men move into position. The rear men strode past, their faces turned away as they marched along, some of the anger of the march clearly evident in their body language as they saluted weakly.

  “Chins up men” Aemilius called as the last men turned to salute and the six hundred men of the rear guard appeared on the road. “Only an hour more and the first Legion awaits us” he called, the lie bringing a smile to Marcus’ face. It was just what the men needed to hear. A small cheer went up from the closest men as he spoke, some of those who hadn’t heard asking questions as they marched past. The word spread quickly and caused a ripple of excitement which started to build as Marcus watched heads turning towards them, the faces suddenly springing to life, grins becoming cheers and men raising swords in the air as they marched along, the noise level suddenly growing.

  “I have been a fool Marcus” Aemilius said suddenly, his mouth set in a firm line. His head shook slightly as he glanced back towards the rear line. “It’s time to lead the men, not be led by them” he said, as much to himself as to anyone else. Marcus caught his eye and placed a hand on his forearm with an accompanying nod.

  “Sometimes we don’t see what is in front of us because our fears and our concerns outweigh our good judgement. Sometimes you need to be harsh with the men, they will thank you for it when the enemy come, and you are ready for them with sharp iron and solid discipline. I failed you. I should have given you older and wiser counsel. It won’t happen again” Marcus said, his voice low. He nodded as the last line of men drew close and they both turned their horses to walk slowly along the road. A stone hit a wooden shield, raised by the rear line which was stepping slowly backwards. Five men turned and ran as another five stood their ground and took the back row, shields raised and swords tight to their sides. Slingers raced forwards, their leather thongs twirling as they launched stones towards the Romans.

  “It’s a shame we don’t have any cavalry to send at them” Aemilius said as his eyes wandered along the scene, another series of stones crashing into wooden boards and one man screamed as a stone caught his foot, his limping form slowing the line as he stumbled. The hulk of a centurion brushed past him and pushed him backwards with a shout to get forward and sort himself out before returning. Marcus felt himself starting to like this man. Stones clattered all around him, but none hit their target as the man turned his gaze back on the Etruscans and made an obscene hand gesture which brought a flurry of laughter from the Romans. Bastudo was six lines back and was edging nervously closer to the rear of the line as the men switched places. Marcus watched as the officer allowed himself to dither and step back another line, causing angry muttering from the legionaries as they had to move around him. He was just about to shout at Bastudo when Aemilius jumped from his horse and stepped into the line, pushing through to Bastudo. As the officer stared open-mouthed at him Aemilius said loudly “Bastudo, I think we should send a small group out at those slingers, what do you say?”

  The officer turned and stared at Aemilius, his face an ashen white as the colour drained from it. “Are you with me Bastudo?” Aemilius asked again.

  Bastudo glanced around, his eyes searching for his friend Fratinus.

  “Yes, good idea” Aemilius responded. “You and Fratinus should both go. What glory you will bring to your families today. Such a shame I didn’t bring your clansmen here as well” he shrugged “it’ll be a good tale to tell them tonight” he added quickly as men grinned and jostled around them, Bastudo stumbled into a legionary who was handing him his shield and nodding to Aemilius.

  The centurion, hearing the words from Aemilius quickly called for several men to form a testudo, the shields clicking into place as this group detached itself from the rear and jostled Bastudo and Fratinus into place. Fratinus was pushed forwards by the men as Marcus watched him intently, his anger evident in his eyes. They had practised the testudo over the last weeks but never, as yet, used it in these conditions. His heart started to race as the men began jostling the officers into the centre of the shields. The pummelling of stones grew louder as Marcus looked to the left and right. There were no other Etruscans visible, just the few horsemen and, perhaps, forty slingers and archers. “Aemilius” he called, as the man returned and leapt onto his horse with a vigour and purpose which made Marcus grin.

  “I know” came the voice of the commander of the second Legion as he looked to Marcus and raised his eyebrows. “This group have detached themselves from their own army; there is no cavalry support save those few horsemen. My guess is that the heat of the day has caused the Etruscans to ease their march somewhat.” Marcus’ raised eyebrows caused Aemilius to grin back at him. “You don’t think I’d waste my best centurion if we didn’t have a good chance of success, do you?” he said as he turned back to the rear and called for a second testudo to form and move behind the first. The men slipped into the formation with an ease which brought happy nods from both Legion commanders. The first testudo of thirty men, with Bastudo and Fratinus, moved out into the space behind the line of men, the second testudo ten paces behind. Marcus and Aemilius stood their horses and watched a group of legionaries also stopping to surround their officers as they watched. More stones and arrows pummelled the two testudos, but none got through the shields. Orders were called and the testudo’s moved side by side, the slingers moving to one block of men with whirling leather thongs. Marcus watched as the Etruscan leaders began to shout orders to the slingers, who fanned out to create a semi-circle, at which the testudo were marching slowly. The noise of stones rapping on the shields of the Romans sounded like a drum being beaten incessantly by a crazed musician as the orders from within the testudo were drowned out by the sound.

  “Send another testudo” Marcus said as Aemilius raised an eyebrow to him. “See how they circle the men; draw them out with another testudo to the left” he added as Aemilius nodded. The order was called, and another group of men set off at a fast pace under their thick wooden shields. Marcus grinned at the sudden movement in the enemy forces as they shifted to counteract this new threat, easing the attack on the first groups of Romans, exactly as he had expected. Now would be the time to move the horse out and flank them, if he had any, he thought as they watched the scene.

  “If only we had some cavalry to send out now” Aemilius said quietly as Marcus nodded at his words. He stretched his back on his horse and looked around.

  “Do you see any enemy cavalry or skirmishers nearby?” Marcus asked. Aemilius frowned but looked around and shook his head. “Then let’s move this last group of men into an offensive position. They can move more quickly than the testudo and if we can set them back by defeating these slingers, we will gain more time for the main army. Aemilius quickly agreed.

  The order was given, and the closest men split into five lines of fifty or more men, coming to a dead stop as they set their formation, before marching towards the enemy. A rider from the Etruscan leaders turned and raced away into the distance, clearly taking a message for cavalry support. Marcus nodded to Aemilius and both men turned to see a few of the rear lines of throwers stepping backwards as the testudo came within thirty paces of their line, as yet no stones had gotten through the shields. The Romans had trained their testudos to get within twenty paces and then charge at the enemy in a row of shields and Marcus had a sudden flash of intuition as he looked to Aemilius. “Send the first hundred men at them now” he said quickly. “They will unnerve the throwers and they won’t react to the testudo breaking its formation” he added as Aemilius turned and called to the centurion to act on the order. The sudden blast of noise as the hundred legionaries screamed and ran forwards in a mad rush, caused several of the slingers to launch missiles over the testudo at the running Romans. Almost as if ordered to do so the testudo broke and charged at the slingers, the blocks of men unfurling like the
wings of an eagle as they beat their shields as they ran.

  The first Romans hit the slingers before they could react. A cry of anguish was followed by curses and screams as the line of men broke. Swords slashed, and men fell, the Romans overwhelming the few throwers in only a few minutes of frenzied, one-sided, fighting. Centurions called their men back from the chase as blood lust took over the men after such a long and frustrating march away from the Etruscans. The archers attempted to fit their arrows and fire on the Romans but were quickly swamped by the second testudo and running soldiers who had rapidly caught up with the attacking force. Hand to hand fights broke out, slingers lashed out with stones as best they could, some had small daggers which afforded little support against the legionaries’ iron blades. Archers fell swiftly as they couldn’t wield their weapons in close combat and their screams filled the air as they were butchered by the hate-fuelled Romans who had endured their lethal arrows for the past few days.

  Marcus grinned but nudged his horse forwards, calling to Aemilius to follow him. They pushed their horses to the fringe of the remaining fighting, seeing the last of the Etruscans racing away into the distance where the three remaining enemy horsemen stood watching the rout, their faces showing how useless they felt. Beyond these horsemen Marcus could see no enemy and he had a sudden thought that the enemy had stopped following the Romans. But as he watched he noticed the cloud of dust rise from beyond a line of low trees which presaged the enemy army’s position, maybe five or six hundred paces away. He nodded to himself as he noticed the cheering rising from the Romans as they began to strip the dead, each legionary handing out coins or scraps of metal and leather to their friends. The hulk of a centurion stepped across towards Aemilius and Marcus and saluted smartly as he came to stop below them, his helmeted eyes staring into the distance.

  “Sir” he said after saluting.

  “Well done centurion Antonius” said Aemilius. “How many men did we lose?” he asked.

  “Only two I am afraid, sir” said Antonius looking up to the two officers and a with a glance to Laminitus. “Officers Bastudo and Fratinus died heroes’ deaths leading from the front” he said matter-of-factly as his face betrayed a small smile.

  “Centurion” Marcus said with a grim look on his face, at which the man momentarily frowned before snapping himself to attention under the eyes of his dictator. “Aemilius will give you three names. Please report the deaths of the two illustrious officers to them in person when we return to the army. I’m sure they will be very upset at hearing of their loss.”

  The centurion smiled, his broken teeth flashing behind a wicked grin. “I know them well, and me and the lads will be very happy to let them know about the sad news of their friends deaths” he replied formally as he saluted both officers.

  Marcus and Aemilius shared a grim look but both men thanked Antonius for his report before the giant saluted, turned, and marched off to get his men back into line to continue the retreat. Marcus nodded to both Aemilius and Laminitus who had sat impassively throughout the exchange, the message clear in his eyes.

  ************

  Capitolinus looked out of the window at the long queue of men outside the door of his house on the Capitoline. He had already accepted another twenty men into his group of followers and yet more were waiting outside to join him. He allowed a small smile to curl upon his lips before he turned to the statue of Jupiter which sat in the alcove behind him.

  “I thank you for your love and generosity” he said to the statue, kneeling before it and touching the arm-high figure lovingly. His eyes moved to the window again and he breathed slowly. He needed more money if he was to give patronage to all these new men. So far he had given hundreds of plebeian families support, a level which was unsustainable at his present level of funds. He took a slow drink from a silver cup and then held the object up to the light wondering how much he would receive for it if he sold it. He shook the thought away as quickly as it came, Javenoli was good for the money, the man had enough gold and jewels from his stash of treasure. He considered how much Javenoli had hidden and where he continued to get his funds. But he needed more money and Javenoli was a means to an end. He looked back at the statue and bit his lower lip as he thought through plans and options. Javenoli was lining his own pocket, that much was clear, but he needed his support, for the moment.

  He returned to the house and took a seat in a low chair to gather his thoughts. The gods, especially Jupiter, surely loved him. They bestowed him with support from the common people and they, in turn, proclaimed him their saviour. He smiled at the thought. If only he had total power he could change the laws and rid himself of the patrician classes, but the people were still fooled by Camillus and his military achievements as well as trodden under the heels of the patrician clans who piled debt and misery upon the citizens of Rome at every opportunity. It was the Senate who held Rome back from greatness. How many great men were of lower birth, yet they struggled to feed their families or farm their lands? As long as the people believed Camillus was chosen of the gods, he, Capitolinus, could never move against the Senate. But Jupiter had chosen him, not Camillus. He frowned at the thought and shook his head as he continued to consider the actions he had traced out in his meeting of the night before. His eyes closed as he breathed out slowly and relaxed his shoulders. A knock at the door shocked him out of his reverie and he looked to the door before calling for the slave to enter.

  The slave opened the door with a slow creak of unoiled hinges and bowed. “Your visitor is here, Lord” he said, at which Capitolinus grinned.

  The man entered slowly, cat-like, his eyes scanning the room as he removed the hood of his cloak from his head and bowed slowly, his arm almost sweeping the floor before he came to a halt in front of Capitolinus.

  “Ah, Thracian” Capitolinus said.

  “Istros, please, master” said the greasy voiced newcomer. Capitolinus nodded him towards a chair and the Thracian sat and allowed his gaze to look around the room, his eyes finishing on the statue of Jupiter.

  “Magnificent isn’t it?” stated Capitolinus as he watched the man closely. The Thracian barely nodded in response. Capitolinus took a moment to appraise the assassin in front of him. “How goes your work for my fellow Javenoli?” he asked quietly. The Thracian’s mouth twitched before he shrugged.

  “Nothing new. He continues to see his lady-friend and he has many public duties, but nothing new” the man said as Capitolinus frowned at him.

  “And nothing of the plot against me?” he asked.

  The Thracian looked past him towards the statue before drawing his eyes back to Capitolinus. “Several of your fellow Roman senators are unhappy at the number of men who wear the barley on their tunics and call themselves followers of Jupiter to show their support for you” he said as Capitolinus smiled at this news. “They say you are getting above yourself and should heed to your status” he added. “But I have found no plot against your person or your family” he added with another shrug. “There is one thing, though, that might interest you” he added and lowered his head as he placed his elbows on the table in front of him, setting his eyes on Capitolinus.

  “Go on.”

  The Thracian sat back, leaving one hand splayed out on the table, palm down, as he scratched at his chest with the other, his eyes narrowed as if in thought. Capitolinus allowed the silence to stretch but his anger was beginning to rise as he stared hard at his visitor. Istros’ face crept into a smile before he spoke.

  “There is a meeting tonight at the house of the man you call Cossus” he said as Capitolinus leant forwards. “This man, they say, is gathering other men who have debtors in your closest circle of friends. From what I hear they are discussing calling in those debts soon to undermine the work that you are doing with your followers” he said as he looked sideways at Capitolinus. Capitolinus nodded at this and drummed his fingers on the table.

  Capitolinus’ brow furrowed at this news “Camillus is behind this” he spat “Cossu
s is his pet” he added angrily. “What time is this meeting?”

  “One hour after sun-set”

  “Can you be there and spy on it” Capitolinus said with a hunger in his voice.

  The Thracian nodded slowly before speaking. “But this work is not in my contract” he said in a slow drawl, his meaning clear. Capitolinus tightened his eyes as he looked at the man across from him.

  “Javenoli is good for the money” he said.

  “Is this his work?” Istros asked quietly as Capitolinus drew an angry breath before allowing it to pass.

  “Maybe there is other work you can do for me” Capitolinus said as he drew a pouch from his belt and counted out four small silver coins.