The King of Rome

by Francis Mulhern

  Istros shifted his head just as the three men appeared by the alleyway and four of his men lurched out into the road and grabbed the tribunes roughly, dragging them into the darkness. The beating was issued quickly and severely, a broken hand for Sicinius and Menenius knocked cold. Istros checked them over before leaning over Sicinius, his bruised face turned away in fear. “You boys better watch who you play with” he growled, issuing the words that Javenoli had given him. “If Capitolinus tries to muscle in on Camillus’ rents, or our businesses” he spat at the beaten man “you’ll have the whole legion to deal with.” As he finished he dropped the eagle next to the foot of Menenius. A low whistle behind informed him that the road was clear and he turned, smiling to himself as he walked away.

  ********

  A sword thrust was parried to his right as Marcus stepped across and pushed his own blade into the flesh of the arm that was visible between the two shields. Screams announced the pain that the action brought, but these sounds were soon drowned by the shouts of the Roman legionaries as they heaved their wooden shields into the attacking Etruscans and stepped forwards in the way they had been drilled. Metal rang on metal, and then somewhere along the line the sound of wood splitting that every soldier dreaded, a shield had been rendered useless, cut across the noise of the raging fighting. The legionary holding the ruined shield thrust it at his attacker, letting the useless item go as he ducked and stabbed out into the shin of the Etruscan who was now looming over him. As his sword bit into the meat of his lower leg the Etruscan whipped his own blade down and slammed it through the neck of the Roman, blood spurting over his own thighs. His victory scream was silenced by a spear thrust to his groin, which made a strange popping sound before a stream of red lifeblood ran down his leg. Another Etruscan dragged him aside and attempted to step on the fallen Roman, his knee instantly smashed by the pommel of a legionary who was desperately attempting to close the wall of shields, his orders falling amongst the sounds of battle like a raindrop in the ocean.

  The Romans had moved into the city streets and within minutes the Etruscans had come screaming down every alleyway towards them, clearly their presence was now known by their leaders. Thousands of men had fallen to Roman swords, the solid stone roads were slippery with blood and at every step the count of the dead grew.

  “Keep pushing” screamed Marcus, who had moved back into the second line, having initially held himself back from the main fight. However, a nasty turn of events had seen Vascius felled by a blow to the head from a heavy axe which had put a dent in his helmet and crushed part of his skull. His prone body had been dragged back by his men, blood issuing from his mouth as he gibbered inaudibly. Marcus had frowned at this, but had been pleased to see that the remaining centurions had stuck to their tasks and closed the shield wall, continuing to keep the attackers at bay. “You” he yelled to one of the guards that Vascius had assigned to him. The man turned an eye to him. “Can you see over the top?” The guard stepped back slightly and stretched his neck to peer over the shields and helmets in front of him.

  “Packed with them” he shouted back.

  Marcus ground his teeth. “No sign of the men from the walls?” has asked to a shake of the head from his guard. Turning back to see the thick press of Romans behind he tried to consider other options. Without the attack from the walls by those who had been defending the street ahead of them the Romans were making too slow a progress. He looked to the sky, where slivers of dark shadowed clouds showed just how late in the day it now was. “What’s keeping them?” he said, almost to himself.

  “Probably blocked themselves in so tight they’ve got no way out” replied the guard.

  Taking a moment to understand the answer, Marcus moved slowly backwards, his eyes roving the rooftops and then the roads behind. It seemed that they really did only have one option, to cut directly through the Etruscans who were now fighting like caged animals to reach the breach through which they had streamed earlier that day. He knew that rotating the front rank would help his men, but he also knew that that would be difficult in the circumstances. It seemed that holding the road and making slow progress was really the only option. Just then a shout from the rear caused him, and several of the men nearby, to turn in alarm. Three legionaries were running down the road towards him. he noted that their swords were clean, so guessed, with some relief, that this meant that the entrance to the city remained under Roman control. He turned and pushed his way through the Roman lines to meet the messengers.

  “Sir” called the first man to arrive. “Message from Valerius” he said, standing stiffly once he came to a full stop in front of the commander. “The enemy have surrendered” he beamed. “He’s taken their leaders prisoner and started to round up the others, but most are dead, sir.”

  “Excellent” replied Marcus as he slapped the soldier on the shoulder. “Do you hear that men of Rome?” he called, heads turning. “The Etruscans outside the city have surrendered.” Shouts went up from all the men around them, though the clash of swords continued in the background. “The gods are with us men. Strike at the hearts of these scum and let’s be done with our task for the day. Push, push” he yelled as he turned and started to move back towards the front line.

  “Your leaders have surrendered, Etruscan dogs” he screamed as he strode through the Romans lines. The call went up across the whole of the front line, those Etruscans closest to the front starting to groan as they looked around for orders from their superiors. Marcus saw a dark headed man get slapped by a soldier who had been pushed towards the front as he’d turned with fear in his eyes. It was obvious that they’d heard the message and were turning on their own leaders.

  “Now, men of Rome. Now is the time. Jupiter is with us. Push” he screamed, his throat hurting from the guttural roar that he produced. “Kill these dogs who dare to bite their masters.” A cheer went up from the Romans and as they pushed forwards Marcus knew from the lack of resistance to their renewed efforts that the battle was won. Striding forwards he yelled again, “Jupiter, Fortuna, you are with us again today. Mars, god of war, strike down our enemies, Mater Matuta, goddess of plenty, give our men new heart, take the strength from our enemies.” As he continued to shout his words, the Roman forces redoubled their efforts, tiredness seeming to ebb away from aching limbs as the legionaries thrust and cut their way into the heart of the Etruscans.

  ********

  “It cannot be Camillus.” Capitolinus was raging with anger as Sicinius stood before him, his clothes torn and his face bloody and bruised. “The man is not given to open warfare in the streets.”

  “Then what is this” Sicinius threw the wooden eagle to the floor “and what of the words they said to me. “We can’t fight the legions” he added angrily.

  “The legions are out in the field, man. There are none of Camillus’ legions here in Rome.”

  “There are hundreds of them” Sicinius said, his exasperation evident as he shook his head and waved his arms. “The old soldiers, those injured, those who work his fields. They all come from his legions. He is their patron, and he looks after his old soldiers. You know how it works, Capitolinus” he blustered angrily back at the open-mouthed man who stood in front of him. “Every man out there who has fought for him will be looking for my blood” Sicinius shouted, his fear making his voice tremble. “I’m not doing this” he said as he stared at the eagle before kicking it across to Capitolinus. “I’m not fighting against his soldiers.”

  “You don’t have to” Capitolinus started to say before the plebeian tribune waved him away.

  “Menenius is still senseless. I don’t even know if he’ll survive.”

  “Listen” snapped Capitolinus. “If Camillus is behind this then we’ll sort it. Stop bleating like a lamb who’s lost its mother. Get yourself cleaned up and come back in a couple of hours. I’ll send some of the lads out to find out what the word on the street is. If he’s made a move against us, I’ll deal with it.” He breathed slowly, attempting to cal
m himself. “You get yourself sorted out” he added more evenly.

  Sicinius limped out, his head shaking as he walked. Capitolinus sat heavily in his chair once the man had left. Surely Camillus wasn’t striking back at the plebeians, it didn’t make sense. Of all the patricians, it was Camillus who offered a modicum of support to the lower orders. His work to pay the soldiers and his agreement to new roles with the government of the state was more evidence of this. It didn’t smell right. He picked up the wooden eagle that had been thrown to the floor. He knew that most of the soldiers wore these items nowadays as a badge of honour for serving in Camillus’ eagles. Had the man truly made an attack against the plebeians? He considered what Sicinius had said for a few moments. With Camillus away fighting the Etruscans, surely whoever had made this attack was acting under their own volition. But who was it? And why would they place this item, he turned it in his hand as he thought, at the scene of the crime. He’d questioned Sicinius about the attackers, asking for descriptions or anything he could remember, but the man was useless. Yet, the feeling that something wasn’t quite right with this story kept coming back to his mind. Who was devious enough to try and set him against the man he hated more than any other in Rome?

  ********

  The morning sun rose with a vengeance, shining down with searing heat from the very first hour. Having risen early enough to see the dawn creep above the horizon Javenoli was already washed, shaved and moving across the forum to walk up the hill to the Capitol on his way to the temple of Jupiter where he had morning duties to perform. Several lictors stepped ahead of him, their ceremonial arms on their shoulders. As he read a missive from Pompeia regarding the success of her trip and impending return to Rome, his smiling face was interrupted by the appearance of several heavily built men in the road ahead. Their movements suggested that they had been waiting for him, and with a concerned look at his lictors he wondered if he should call for more men before he spotted Marcus Manlius Capitolinus striding behind the heaviest thug in the group, a man with a heavily bruised face, the red-blue welt under his left eye still thick and heavy. As his lictors closed ranks the front three of Capitolinus’ men came to form a line in front of their boss, their intentions clear. Travellers, market traders and other members of the public who had been moving across the forum suddenly disappeared from view, though prying eyes could be seen at almost every corner or every window.

  “What do you want?” called the chief lictor as each of the three men slid long blades from their tunics and continued to stride purposefully towards the pontiff. The ceremonial axes clicked from their slots on the weapons each lictor carried and they circled Javenoli, the chief turning back a worried eye to his leader.

  An instant later an arrow skidded into the floor by Baltus’ feet, making him jump aside and causing the other men to stop in their tracks, eyes searching the surrounding building for whoever had fired the weapon at them. Javenoli smiled, Istros was surely a god in human form, he thought. The man was everywhere at every time.

  “Stop” called Capitolinus as he pushed Baltus aside, his eyes searching the streets around them nervously. Despite the forum being a wide-open space, it was obvious that the Thracian would have his arrow aimed at his own heart for the next strike. “We need to talk, Javenoli” he called.

  Javenoli stepped to the front of his men, “with your thugs standing there with weapons in hand?” he firm voice demanded.

  “Go.”

  Baltus turned a disgruntled face to Capitolinus but waved his own men away without hesitation. Capitolinus stood with his hands on his hips before he motioned for Javenoli to release his lictors. Reluctantly, and with a quick glance around the forum in hope that Istros was as good a shot with his arrows as he was a spy, he stepped forwards and waved his lictors aside as he moved into the open ground, Capitolinus coming to meet him.

  Capitolinus held out his hand and placed the wooden eagle into Javenoli’s as the two men met. “I’m just returning something that you may have left in the street last night.”

  Javenoli shrugged as he looked at the eagle, his bottom lip tensed as he frowned at the item he now held. Tossing it to the floor he looked up at Capitolinus and asked “What do you want? I have much to do today and being detained by a time-waster was not in my plans.”

  Capitolinus smiled at this. “I know you are hiding some of that barbarian gold, Javenoli. I want my share.”

  “You are deluded. I have no spare gold, you made sure of that by wasting it on every plebeian idiot with a hard luck story. I’ve bailed you out more times than a leaky fishing boat. Move your men out of my way…”

  Capitolinus leant in close. “I know you have it” he growled, cutting across Javenoli’s words. “You can’t keep it from me, it’s mine by rights. Our plans may have diverged, but the gold we claimed together is half mine.”

  Javenoli stood back from him. “You’ve been paid for all your shares in every scheme. There is nothing else” he said distantly. “You chose your path, Capitolinus. Now go and walk it.” Capitolinus grinned menacingly as Javenoli stood and stared at him, unblinking. “You know” he said quietly “I could ruin you. I could let slip all your schemes and who you’ve had murdered to help you rise to your lofty position. I know them all, Javenoli, all. Even Camillus’ pet.” He waved a hand at the forum “all this could have been ours. We could have turned this city into the greatest empire there has ever been, but your greed, Javenoli” he shook his head as if bewildered by the thought. “Your greed has destroyed you.”

  Javenoli stood motionless and looked over Capitolinus’ shoulder, his eyes drawn to the gleam of Jupiter’s chariot atop the temple. With a small smile creeping to the edges of his mouth he looked directly at Capitolinus. “When we stood on that hill and talked deep into the night I thought you were an ambitious man, Capitolinus. But I didn’t think you a fool. Go ahead, discredit me, ruin me as you say you can” he shrugged, still smiling as Capitolinus’ eyes narrowed. He turned to look around the forum and his arms came out by his sides, palms to the sky. “This is all mine now” he said with a look of joy in his eye. “Do you remember when the Gauls attacked us on that fateful night, Marcus Manlius?” he asked, pointedly using his previous name. “Do you remember how I strode forwards and sent that first spear into the heart of that brute who appeared behind you?” He nodded as he continued, Capitolinus’ face now falling into a quizzical frown. “Yes, you do, don’t you? You know that it was me that Jupiter gave his strength to, Manlius. Me to whom he gave this strong right arm. I struck that first blow, I heralded the guards to come whilst you, my foot-soldier came bleating to my side, like the lamb you are.”

  “Rubbish” snarled Capitolinus.

  Javenoli continued unabated by Capitolinus’ anger. “Look at the way my fortune has grown whilst yours has waned, Manlius. Everything you touch that hasn’t had my influence falls apart. You’re lucky I gave you credit for the attack on there” he pointed to the Capitol. “Without my patronage, you would be nothing. Think on it Manlius, think how you have struggled, how your money has declined since you chose your own path. What would happen if I let it be known that it was I who defended the Capitol and to whom Jupiter gives his blessing? How many of your plebeian friends would drop you like a street thief from the Tarpeian Rock if they thought Jupiter wasn’t giving you his support?”

  “No” replied Capitolinus, his eyes searching Javenoli. “I was given Jupiter’s strength, I fought the horde of Gauls as they attacked the Hill. Me” he struck his own breast. “Not you and your fancy words” he added with a sneer. “And I want my gold, now” he added in a harsh whisper as he watched the lictors edging closer as the two men seemed to argue more vociferously. Moving back slightly he continued. “Your lies won’t carry any weight with my followers, Javenoli. They’ll still come running to my banner in the last battle” he said acidly as he almost spat on the pontiff.

  “If you believe that the common man will support you when there is a shadow of a doubt, then you�
�re a fool. Remember the Alliensis. Remember the fortunes of those who claimed the gods were on their side, but failed and lost everything. You have a long way to fall now, Manlius. A long way” he said, watching the truth start to register in Capitolinus’ eyes. He lowered his voice and whispered “I control what the gods say to every Roman here Manlius. Without my final say nothing is agreed or concluded. I would say that that is what Jupiter wants from his true follower. Without me you are nothing. Without Jupiter you are nothing. The reality is, Manlius, that you have nothing and there is nothing that you can do about it, because Jupiter does not smile on you, he smiles on me.”

  Capitolinus almost went for his throat, but suddenly remembered the Thracian and his arrows, his eyes whipping up to search the surrounding buildings. “You have my gold Javenoli. I won’t stop until I have it, one way or the other. And using this” he nodded towards the eagle which was at Javenoli’s foot. “A cheap trick which I saw through instantly.” He turned as if to walk away before turning back and staring at the pontiff malevolently. “Watch your back, old man. I’m coming for my gold and I’m bringing the people with me. Whatever you say, I am Jupiter’s chosen one, the people will not be fooled by your lies.”

  “Try them then. Try letting every Roman know that there is no truth to the story that Gaius Javenoli threw that first spear and raised the alarm, and not you. Once I have spread doubt in their minds, Manlius, the rot will set in and your followers will leave you like rats in a burning barn.” Javenoli smiled “I created you, Capitolinus. I gave you the sacred geese and the strong right arm. And I can take it away just as easily, just try me.”