Wolves of Rome

by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

  ‘The enormous artificial lake which is being dug there will be used to stage a commemoration of the naval battle of Actium, the thirtieth anniversary of which is coming up. For me, and those like me, that battle meant the end of the civil wars that bloodied our lands for more than half a century, whereas for others it signifies the beginning of tyranny. The latter is the kind of person that Julia has lately been frequenting.

  ‘Don’t expect rapid results. It might take you months, or even years. You must be patient and very careful indeed, but your role may prove crucial. You may still be outsiders now, but you are certainly ready to enter Roman society.’

  The boys didn’t leave until late, at the end of the second guard shift.

  As they walked down the path that led to their quarters they were talking quietly, as they did whenever they had experienced something unusual. Both felt very uneasy about having been tasked to act as informers, simply because they had recognized an image on the frieze of the Altar of Peace, but Flavus pointed out that Taurus would never put them in a position that was less than honorable. He had trained and instructed them for years, dedicating a great deal of sweat and even blood to this purpose: to make them ready for anything. They decided to continue in this new role, if nothing else for curiosity’s sake, and to make their way up in the society which they found themselves part of and which, thanks to their new assignment, they would learn about in every last gritty detail.

  THEY ENTERED THE worksite as directors of security. Thousands of men from every corner of the world were working there, both slaves and free men, depending on their duties. They spoke many different languages and tended to form groups based on their ethnicity, language and habits. Given the situation, there was no end to the brawls and fistfights which would explode, greatly slowing down the rate of work. The building contractors could in no way afford this. There were already foremen and supervisors in charge of taking care of any fracas using a cane or a whip, so Arminius’s and Flavus’s main job was to appear threatening enough to put rebellion, escape or clashes of any sort out of anyone’s mind. They were both very tall and powerfully built, and they wore the muscle cuirasses and crested Attic helmets of the superior officers of the Roman army. They carried spears instead of javelins and wore long swords of Germanic style but Roman crafting on their shoulders. Extremely fast to act whenever needed, they made themselves feared to the point that it became rarely necessary for them to intervene and they began to look more like ornamental statues perched on the embankments than members of the armed forces on duty.

  As the operations proceeded, the site became crowded with noble men and ladies of the Roman aristocracy and the two young warriors were greatly admired as masterpieces of nature. It wasn’t long before they began to be invited to the thermal baths, both those in private villas as well as in public facilities, so that the ladies of the highest society of the capital of the world, as well as the rich eunuchs who rented out the baths, could stave off boredom by admiring the breathtaking nudity of the young Germanic warriors. They were soon invited to parties and banquets as well. They embarked on friendships and on more intimate relationships, first with young freedwomen and then with women from illustrious families, whose husbands were away being governors of some far-flung province.

  These kinds of relations – being accepted or even sought after by powerful men and by beautiful, sophisticated women – both gratified and flattered them, making them feel part of a world they’d long lived at the margins of. Their fluency and pronunciation were greatly improving, so that they could appreciate nuances and irony, underlying messages and double meanings. And they expressed themselves spontaneously with equal ease.

  They were well aware that those who invited them never stopped considering them barbarians, the sons of wild, untamable nations. And although they knew that was where a great deal of their fascination lay, they were also becoming a bit tired of the game. For the first time, they were finding it was possible to conceal certain aspects of their past, when they wanted to do so.

  They began to pick up on the thoughts and the inclinations of the powerful, even in a political sense. They could confront the marble statues in which these figures appeared majestic and solemn, thoughtful and amiable, with the actual everyday reality around them – the intrigues, the resentments, the small-mindedness.

  They were thus put, little by little, in a position to learn what the supreme leader wanted to know and to report on what they’d found to Taurus, but they stopped short at spying or informing on people, refusing to betray confidences. Treasonous behaviour was unworthy of the education they’d received as warriors, both in Germania and in Rome, and of the future officers – it was as such they imagined themselves – of the greatest and most powerful army existing in the world.

  WITH THE PASSING of time, Arminius and Flavus were employed in more important tasks than managing security on the Vatican Hill worksite, and they were often housed in the camps of the Germanic Auxilia rather than in their residence on the Aventine. Then, one day, they were summoned to the port of Ravenna, where they found Primus Pilus Centurion Marcus Caelius Taurus waiting for them.

  They warmly shook hands and gripped one another’s arms in the military manner, and then Taurus spoke: ‘She truly is at the centre of everything, of life and of death. Someone has to save her from herself. I’ve thought of a plan, but I’ll need the two of you. Will you help me?’

  ‘We will, Centurion,’ Flavus replied. ‘What must we do?’

  ‘You’ll have to agree to some hard training . . .’

  ‘Training? For what?’ asked Flavus.

  ‘For a naval battle.’

  12

  BOTH ARMINIUS AND FLAVUS repeated what Taurus had just said as a question: ‘A naval battle?’

  ‘Exactly. It’s only a few months until the great celebrations are due to begin. The huge body of water on the Vatican Hill will be inaugurated with a staging of the Battle of Actium. It will be a memorable spectacle. I’ve heard that the emperor is quite undecided as to whether the flagship of Marc Antony and Cleopatra should be reconstructed with their ensigns; he doesn’t want the public to have a return of nostalgic love for the triumvirate. I don’t think I’m wrong in predicting that he’ll choose not to do so; he’s too wise a politician to make such an error. He knows that the enthusiasm of the people must be regulated and guided in the right direction.’

  Arminius felt that he’d grown enough in Taurus’s estimation to hazard a challenging question. He would never have dared to make such a request just a year earlier.

  ‘Let’s hear,’ replied the centurion.

  ‘Since the last time we spoke, I’ve been wanting to ask you this question, because I know that you’ll tell us the truth regardless of your political beliefs: if you had to choose between peace and freedom, which would it be?’

  Taurus shook his head with an expression that might have been interpreted as condescension. Arminius realized that Taurus probably considered him quite callous and probably overly ambitious.

  He answered nonetheless. ‘I’m a soldier. I’ve seen death thousands of times on the battlefield. I’ve seen men who had been bursting with strength and with life vomiting blood as they take their last breath, others enduring agony and calling out for death to take them, others throwing themselves on their own swords. Thousands of them, tens of thousands. I’ve seen the earth soaked with blood too many times not to understand what life is worth. Life, my boy, is absolutely our most precious treasure and there’s only one thing worth sacrificing it for: saving other people’s lives.

  ‘Freedom is an abstract concept. Whose freedom are we talking about? Is a poor man, who doesn’t have enough to support himself and his family, free? During the times of the Republic I saw droves of people lined up in front of the houses of the rich and powerful to sell their votes in exchange for bread. And I’d led many of those very men onto the battlefield, led them to victory. What they conquered made the aristocrats commanding those armies r
ich beyond measure, while they returned even poorer than when they’d left. They found their neglected fields sold off, their wives prostituting themselves to whoever had the money to buy them.

  ‘One of our greatest commanders, eight times consul at the time when only the best men were given that title, was a defender of the proletariat. In a speech for his candidacy he turned towards the Senate curia and, pointing at the people who supported him, shouted, “These men who have conquered an empire for you do not have enough ground to bury themselves in.” ’

  Taurus and Arminius were walking side by side while Flavus was just a step or so behind them, and he could hear every word of what the centurion was saying. As they reached the gladiators’ stadium, he thought of the horseman he’d once seen, mounted on a black stallion galloping swiftly through the thick fog, and of how he’d disappeared into the night, leaving only the sound of pounding hoofs behind him. And he remembered the gigantic quinquereme as it entered the port, its dripping oars being raised in unison.

  ‘I’ve seen civil war as well,’ continued Taurus as he approached the horses who waited tied to the crib outside the mansio. ‘The most obscene and most cruel of events, the curse of this people who were born from the fratricide of Romulus and Remus. Can you imagine how it feels to leave your house in the morning without knowing whether you will return at nightfall? Living day after day in the chaos of blood, revenge, savagery, torture, all of it meaningless, without honour and without end? How it feels to hear a footfall behind you, in the dark, with the fear that a blade is about to be plunged between your shoulder blades just because someone has written your name on a wooden board in the forum? Someone who has promised all of your goods, your wife as a concubine and your children as slaves to anyone who offers to kill you? Nothing but disgust, horror, shame.

  ‘What does peace mean? In most cases it means a serene life, having what you need, the dignity of not having to go out begging. But peace can also mean freedom, if it is wisely managed. I’m going to stop here. I’ve already said too much. I know what a young man thinks: that freedom is the arena of glory, while peace is for the old men who are afraid to die because they don’t have the strength to defend themselves any more.

  ‘Tomorrow you’ll begin training on board the ships.’

  ‘But why are we even doing this training? Will we be participating in the naumachia?’ It was Flavus asking the questions now.

  ‘First of all, because the Empire’s forces include both the army and the navy, so you must be capable of fighting on both land and sea. Secondly, yes. This has to do with the re-enactment of the sea battle of Actium, but I don’t know whether you will be playing a role, or what it might be. I’ll let you know when the time comes.’

  THUS ARMINIUS AND Flavus began to learn how to move agilely on a warship and how to handle the weapons on board, like onagers, ballistae and scorpions, as well as the sheets and lines for letting out and taking in the sails. Taurus guided them in the exploration of the swift, agile liburnian galley, which could be powered by oars or sails. They walked between the benches where the oarsmen sat and observed how their synchronized movements combined with those of the helmsmen at the stern. They climbed up the masts and yards to spread the sails and they practised arming and aiming the various artillery pieces. On the shore at a short distance from the ship, a wooden plank had been propped up as a target. The two brothers competed fiercely to see who could better centre the target with a five-libra arrow, vying to be considered the best shot. One of the veterans on board the ship told them that when he was still in service in the legion, he had fought in Africa and that they had used arrows of that weight on the battlefield to down elephants.

  Both brothers became passionately interested in those devices and became more and more precise at hitting their mark. They also practised swimming, something they’d always done in the rivers and lakes of their childhood home, but also now in Rome, in the pools of the public baths. Completing their training took a couple of months, during which they were taken to the amphitheatre where they witnessed gladiators fighting. Neither of the two could understand the Roman passion for such exhibitions. In their minds, a man fought only if he had a fundamental reason to do so, like defending his land from an invader or taking revenge for an insult or a betrayal. Fighting and losing one’s life for the enjoyment of spectators seemed completely atrocious and meaningless.

  Nonetheless, the amphitheatre itself was an impressive structure. The two curves on the short sides were perfect, as were the long sides. The entrance gates were located so as to permit the crowd to flow in and out easily, and there was a grandstand reserved for the most important spectator of all.

  After all of their training was over, Taurus and the two young men travelled back to Rome on horseback, down the Via Flaminia, the same road they’d taken when they had first come to Italy. They chatted as they rode, remembering the old times, the beatings and the punishments suffered at the hands of the strict centurion, their uncertainty and homesickness, their first encounters with love. Flavus’s enchantment with little Iole. But by now their Germanic origins seemed remote and practically forgotten. Only the thought of their parents, especially their father, was still vivid, as they continued to receive news of him. The memories of their mother Siglinde had faded, tied as they were to when they were children; they remembered her voice, sometimes, and the old ballads she would sing to them, and even her face framed by long hair.

  Back in the capital, Arminius and Flavus came to appreciate the excellent qualities of Thiaminus, Taurus’s servant. He was an extraordinary massager and his services were sought after at the baths by the most fashionable and influential people of the City, both men and women. The ladies had to pass him off as a eunuch in order to bypass the rigid rules of the female baths, and no one had ever bothered to check whether that was true. Thiaminus was very discreet, and so his clients tended to relax with him and opened up by speaking their minds freely or by allusion. He’d grown quite used to this over the years and he’d learned how to interpret such confidences.

  The day of the Ides of May marked the forty-sixth anniversary of Taurus’s birth. That morning Privatus had gone out with the cart to shop for food at the Forum Holitorium market, where he bought legumes and lamb to roast. The guests arrived in the late afternoon, bringing with them meats, cheeses, spices and amphorae of fine wines. His friends from the Eighteenth and the Ninth Legions, Quintus Silvanus and Titus Macrus, who had fought at his side for years, had been invited, along with Publius, his beloved brother from Bononia.

  As he walked in, Publius recognized the two boys. ‘I’d always hoped to see you in Ravenna or Bononia, hopefully with that bear of my brother, but we never met again after that time at the inn.’

  ‘Centurion Taurus is always very busy,’ spoke up Flavus, ‘and he keeps us that way too, if you want to know the truth. It seems like he’s always got some new torture in mind for us. We never stop training, while I thought we’d come to Rome to have some fun!’

  ‘Ah, no complaints from you, young man,’ replied Publius Caelius. ‘The two of you are young, handsome and you have your whole lives in front of you. What I would give to be your age again! I’d trade anything, even my inns, believe me.’

  As usual, Thiaminus and Privatus were greeting the guests. They had organized the dinner with the help of some servants hired out for the occasion by an impresario who ran such solemn events for the senators. Arminius and Flavus were not invited to the dinner, but they made themselves comfortable in the garden, where they were served the various courses and wines at a pretty little table made of Lunense marble.

  Between one course and the next, Flavus noticed Thiaminus handing something to Privatus as they crossed paths at the kitchen door. Privatus came their way with a tray of roasted lamb and a jug of red wine. He greeted them, set the tray in front of them and said quietly, with the hint of a smile, ‘Under the plate.’

  Arminius and Flavus gave a nod and began to eat. Only when they’
d finished the food and drunk the wine did they lift the empty plate. Beneath it was a little roll of parchment; Flavus scanned it then passed it to his brother, who read:

  Tomorrow, at the second guard shift, come to the grain warehouse at the port on the Tiber and look into the opening you’ll find on the roof.

  ‘Do you understand it?’ asked Flavus.

  ‘I think so,’ replied Arminius, ‘but what I can’t figure out is why everyone here in Rome likes these riddles so much.’

  ‘So you know where the port is?’

  ‘Sure, we’ve gone past it many times.’

  ‘So what’s to see there?’

  ‘Something dangerous, otherwise Taurus would have gone himself.’

  ‘He’s not afraid of anyone.’

  ‘Yes, but he never risks anything unwisely, least of all himself.’

  ‘When do we go?’

  ‘Tomorrow, at the second guard shift. Right? Just like the note says. We’ll go light. Just a dagger and a couple of throwing knives. Barefoot so we won’t make any noise.’

  Macrus, Publius Caelius and Quintus Silvanus spent the night at Taurus’s house, talking until very late. The artificial lake that was being completed on the Vatican Hill took up much of their discussion. A grand parade was to take place, with seven legions represented, and Taurus would take part in his dress uniform, wearing all the decorations he’d earned on the field. Publius sat listening to him with great admiration, as though it were the first time he’d ever had that pleasure. Then Taurus and his brother retired to a smaller room where they could continue their conversation in private.

  THE NEXT DAY after dark, without breathing a word to Taurus, Arminius and Flavus found their way to the spot described in Privatus’s missive. They crossed the Tiber at the Pons Aemilius and continued downstream for about three hundred paces until they spotted the warehouse. It was connected to a pier where cargo ships moored. The whole area was pitch-black, except for a few lamps that let a prostitute’s clients know where to find her. A glimmer of light was visible coming from a crack just above the warehouse door, indicating that someone was inside. Strange, given the time of night. But Arminius and Flavus had learned that the dark nights of Rome were much more animated than one could be led to believe. Illicit lovers meeting on the sly, fortune tellers ransacking the cemeteries for body parts to use in their spells or as charms to ward off the evil eye, thieves and hired killers lying in wait . . . a little light was no reason for particular alarm.