Saviour of Rome [Gaius Valerius Verrens 7]

by Douglas Jackson

  ‘Saco’s man Claudius was working for them.’

  Serpentius turned to meet his eyes and Valerius saw a flicker of the former gladiator he’d first met, kept alive by his hatred and a burning need for revenge. ‘Another debt to pay. They were waiting for me, and a fat man in a Roman officer’s helmet and armour sentenced me to be worked to death in the mines.’

  ‘I’ve seen the mines,’ Valerius said bleakly, remembering Serpentius’s terror in the Conduit of Hezekiah beneath Jerusalem.

  ‘It was like being buried alive. Another week and I’d have gone mad.’

  Valerius reached across to touch his arm. ‘But you escaped, old friend, because you are still Serpentius of Avala.’

  Serpentius brightened at the sound of his name. ‘Serpentius of Avala.’ He smiled as he savoured the words on his tongue. ‘Barbaros the Proud.’

  ‘Barbaros?’

  ‘My name before I was taken.’

  ‘A good name,’ Valerius conceded. ‘A small circle of men, you said. Severus, the duovir of the ordo. Ferox, who runs the mines and without whom nothing is possible …’

  ‘Fronton, one of the main suppliers,’ Serpentius supplied the next name. ‘Harpocration, the prefect of Parthian auxiliaries, who provided the military threat and carried out any killings that were required.’

  ‘He killed Petronius?’

  ‘You may be certain of it. Petronius had marked them all, but he could never find the proof, not till right at the end. The night he died he had arranged a meeting with a man he believed would supply him with that proof. Names. Numbers on papers. Figures that would show each and every one of them was involved. He had long puzzled over Saco’s insistence that none of the names they uncovered was capable of carrying the others with him on such a perilous road. A mysterious figure stood in the shadows directing and uniting, threatening and cajoling. At one point he even suspected Severus’s wife, but if she is a conspirator she hides it well.’

  ‘He was wrong to suspect Calpurnia,’ Valerius confirmed. ‘Though she may well be part of her husband’s schemes. No, the man behind this is a man who appears to have no power, no ambition and no position. A man who will never have his statue in the Forum, but who realizes the value of information and knows how to use it. He is the puppet master who controls all the others. For a time he even controlled me.’ Serpentius darted his friend a look of surprise. ‘It’s true, Serpentius. He sent me to my death with a smile and I even thanked him for his kindness. But his greed led him to overstretch himself and now the forces of justice are closing in on him. His name is Marcus Atilius Melanius.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of him.’

  ‘Because that is the way he wants it. His greatest strength is his invisibility. Did Petronius ever mention the name Piso?’

  ‘No. Who is he, another invisible man?’

  Valerius smiled. ‘Just the opposite. A young tribune of the Sixth legion who thinks he’s the next Caesar. When I had dinner with Severus and the others a few days ago he boasted as much. I think his ambitions are being encouraged by Melanius.’

  Serpentius thought about that for a while. ‘So maybe Petronius was right and it’s not just about the gold?’

  ‘If Pliny is ever given proof they’re guilty every one of them will go under the axe, if they’re fortunate. They can kill us, but they know Rome will keep sending people until they get an answer. In Germania, the Batavians who followed Civilis are spent, their cohorts scattered across the Empire. It can’t be long before Vespasian is able to disengage a legion from Germania. When that happens Pliny will march north and take this place apart until he finds the truth. From their point of view it makes sense to act before that happens.’

  ‘Then they’re fools. Vespasian will crush them like a grape in a walnut press.’

  ‘It’s possible, but think about what would have happened if Galba had supported the Vindex revolt in Gaul a few years back.’ Gaius Julius Vindex, a tribal leader in Aquitania, had risen up against Nero, claiming to be acting in the name of freedom. ‘The legions of Germania were on the brink of mutiny. If all three had combined, they’d have brought down Nero a year earlier and the civil war might never have happened.’

  A dry laugh escaped the Spaniard. ‘You’ve obviously forgotten how lovable Galba was.’

  Valerius returned his grin. Servius Sulpicius Galba had been a bitter, parsimonious dry stick of a man whose penny-pinching had cost him the purple. The Praetorian Guard had killed him because he refused to pay them the money he’d promised … and because he chose the wrong heir. ‘Galba’s heir was another Calpurnius Piso.’

  Serpentius gave him a certain look. ‘That bears thinking about.’

  ‘But first we have to track down Petronius’s informant.’

  ‘All I know is his name. A man called Nepos.’

  XXXIII

  ‘Welcome to Avala.’ Serpentius’s voice dripped irony, but Valerius understood he was as proud as any senator opening the door to his twenty-million sesterce mansion. ‘It’s not much, but we call it home.’

  Valerius studied the little huddle of stone huts set into the hillside and the sprawling fields that clung to the sides of the stream. How appropriate that this desolate place should spawn a man like Serpentius. A hard life in a hard land had created a warrior forged from iron and stone and imbued him with a fierce loyalty to his people and his friends. The Roman could see it in the way the men and women deferred to his friend: a mixture of pride, wariness and respect. As they rode closer the ragged farmers, tradesmen and their families crowded round for a closer view of the stranger.

  Valerius and Serpentius dismounted and the Spaniard began to speak. At first it was as if he’d been reading Valerius’s mind, but slowly the one-handed Roman began to realize he was being treated to the tribe’s traditional ritual of guest welcome.

  ‘These are my people, the Reburi,’ Serpentius said in a solemn voice. ‘They are of the Zoelan tribe of the Astures.’ He waved a hand to the surrounding mountains. ‘And these are our lands which once reached from the Red Hills to the wave-battered shores of Vizcaium.’

  They growled at this reminder of what the Romans had taken from them, but Valerius understood Serpentius was not rallying them against an enemy. Instead, he was doing them and his guest honour by initiating him into the history of his people, the people of the high peaks, born into a blizzard and weaned on ice water. He turned to face Valerius.

  ‘You know me as Serpentius, but I was born Barbaros. The moment they cut the cord linking me to my mother, my father laid me out naked in the snow to harden or die as the god decreed. In the mountains a weak child is a burden and to grow to love such a child a greater burden still. Better for it to die never knowing what it is to live. For the tribe to survive, the weak must always make way for the strong.’ The harsh sentiment was greeted with a growl of approval because each one of them had suffered a similar ordeal. ‘When I was older, perhaps five years, we would drive the sheep to the high pastures in summer and stay with them while they fattened. We had a little food, but gathered what we could to make it last: berries, wild garlic, fish we caught by hand from the streams. Maybe a mountain hare or a partridge, if we were quick and it was unlucky. I had a dog, a big dog, brown and black and hairy, with a head the size of a bull’s, like the Alanos the Romans use to watch over their houses. It kept me warm at night, that dog. I still remember the smell, sweet as fresh-picked mushrooms, but bitter too, and the sound of dog dreams. The dog watched for the bear by day and the wolf by night, but more importantly for man by either.’

  ‘The Vaccei,’ a small boy shouted, as if Serpentius might have forgotten. His grinning father cuffed him lightly on the ear and their neighbours laughed.

  ‘Yes,’ Serpentius laughed along with them, ‘the Vaccei. They moved through the rocks like snakes, those Vaccei, sliding from one piece of cover to the next until they were on you. They knew to stay downwind of the dog, but the dog had an inner eye; a sense beyond sense. The dog frightene
d them, because he had a bite that could tear a man’s leg off and was as silent as they. Every boy carried a sling. They were usually enough to see off the wolf, even the bear if you shouted loud enough, but never the man. Of all the predators of the mountains, man was the most dangerous, and he is even more dangerous now.’

  Valerius understood Serpentius was talking about the men who had taken him, and the men who would undoubtedly come looking for them both.

  ‘You look at the mountains and you see majesty and grandeur,’ Serpentius continued. ‘We look at them and see only hardship and death. Perhaps soon we will all have to seek sanctuary there and there are things you must know.’

  He allowed his gaze to take in the men, women and children, for this message was for them as much as for Valerius.

  ‘Shelter and fire. It will be winter soon. If it comes to it, we can use our horses and our livestock for shelter. But to survive in the mountains you must learn to make fire in rain so thick you can catch fish in it, and in a wind fit to carry you to the ends of the earth. Without fire you will freeze. If you do not have fire and shelter the snow gods will come for you. First they take away your mind, so you are helpless against them. Then they take away all your feeling so that your body does not know what is happening to it. Then they remove it from you one piece at a time.’ He allowed his eyes to range over them and his voice filled with authority, so each sentence became an order to be obeyed. ‘We will collect wood for kindling, and logs, and moss to dry for our fire strikers. Thick blankets and all the food we can spare. Go now, because we may not have as much time as you think.’ They began to disperse and his voice dropped so he was speaking only to Valerius. ‘I have seen men wandering blind in a snowstorm with every finger and every toe missing and their arms and legs turned black and frozen solid as that walnut fist of yours. I do not say it will be like that, my friend, but take the mountains lightly for but a moment and they will destroy you.’

  A young warrior approached. Valerius recognized him as the tribesman who had helped him escape the Parthians. Yet there was something different about him. This was an oddly polished version of the tattered stranger who’d moved so easily through the rocks. A thick copper torc adorned his neck, he wore a brightly coloured tunic, and his beard was trimmed tight to his lean, hatchet features.

  Their eyes met and Valerius looked in astonishment from the younger man to Serpentius. It was impossible. Yet there could be no doubt.

  ‘My son, Tito,’ Serpentius confirmed with stony gravity. ‘Though how he comes to be dressed like a peacock I do not know. Perhaps when the hook-noses arrive he intends to dazzle them with his finery while we escape to the mountains.’

  ‘Gaius Valerius Verrens at your service,’ Valerius bowed. ‘I thank you again for guiding me away from the Parthians. I’m sure your father is only speaking in jest.’

  ‘My father never speaks in jest,’ Tito said. ‘He thinks smiling is a sign of weakness.’

  Serpentius was about to reply when he saw the direction of Valerius’s eyes and the ravaged features took on a lugubrious cast. A slim, dark-haired girl stood watching them. Her face was sombre, but her expression didn’t detract from a luminous beauty that would have made her stand out from the other Zoelans even without the fine clothes. Valerius was astonished to recognize the girl who’d sat with Calpurnia at Severus’s dinner.

  ‘I do not suppose it will do any harm to introduce you to the lady Julia Octavia Fronton. Perhaps you will get more out of her than I can.’ He explained about the raid and his failure to secure Fronton’s records. ‘I had some notion she would know of her father’s involvement, or, failing that, we could ransom her for the information. But she declares outrage even at the suggestion Fronton might be disloyal to Rome, and an exchange with snakes like Fronton entails too much risk for my liking. If I wasn’t certain she’d lead them back here, I’d send her straight home.’

  ‘I still say she has value to us,’ Tito burst in. ‘She may not know directly of her father’s involvement, but she knows of his movements and who he met where and when. If they do come for us she would make a valuable hostage at the end.’

  ‘Of course,’ Serpentius didn’t hide his sarcasm, ‘it will be the industrious Tito who spends many tedious hours in her company questioning the lady Julia. And at the end will it be you who holds the knife against her throat?’ He smiled, and Tito’s anger turned into consternation. ‘No, I thought not. Still, you may be right and she will be of use to us yet. We will need every weapon at our disposal to survive this.’

  ‘So you are prepared to fight them if it comes to it?’ Valerius said.

  ‘No,’ Serpentius spoke with the force of utter certainty. ‘I will not risk one of my people to further Rome’s aims. It is nothing to them if Hispania, Gaul and Germania separate from the Empire. If Vespasian has not the wit to keep his provinces, he doesn’t deserve them. Perhaps it will mean the gold is kept in Hispania and helps to improve the lives of the people who dig it. Those whose ancestral lands it is torn from. Better the mining stops altogether and that vile metal remains in the earth where the gods willed it. We cannot undo the destruction and the ruin brought upon us by the Roman lust for gold, but at least we could end it.’

  ‘That will not happen and you know it,’ Valerius said just as forcibly. ‘The men pillaging the goldfields for their own ends are as greedy as any in Rome. At least before there was Roman order, and there will be Roman order again, and more.’ He took Serpentius aside. ‘Pliny told me Vespasian plans to bring about an extension of civitas in Hispania. That means more citizenship and more legal protection for those who hold it. Your people will own this land with their rights of ownership enshrined in Roman law. You can create larger settlements and more employment. Expand your fields and grow more crops.’

  ‘You don’t understand, Valerius. This,’ he swung a hand that took in the houses and the fields and the mountains and the trees, ‘is all we want. For my people citizenship is just another form of slavery. This is already their land and as long as they are prepared to fight for it they will own it. That is the way it has always been and the way it will always be.’ Valerius bit back a retort and the Spaniard shook his head. ‘I know you mean well, and perhaps Vespasian too, but it is not for us. Do not mistake me, brother, though I will not risk my people, you are my friend and I will help you in any way I can.’

  Tito had half followed them and picked up at least part of the conversation. Valerius sensed a confusion in him. Clearly, he was as complex a character as his father, and just as volatile.

  ‘You do not take decisions for me, Nathair.’ The young man confirmed Valerius’s suspicions. ‘And too much lies on this to leave it to a Roman who crashes through the countryside with the stealth of a runaway buffalo. I think you will need eyes and ears in the city, Roman?’

  Valerius looked to Serpentius, who acquiesced with an almost imperceptible nod.

  ‘My escape will have thrown the conspirators into a certain level of confusion. The fact I received help from a previously unknown source will likely provoke some kind of meeting to decide what to do next. My concern is that their reaction might be to lash out against those they fear. If we can have the movements of Ferox, Severus and Melanius watched, the very fact of an assembly will give us time to prepare.’

  Tito nodded and turned to go, but Valerius called him back.

  ‘There is one other possibility, which may help or may not.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘If you can spare a man or two with the right qualities, men who have the subtlety to drop a suggestion into another man’s ear without appearing to do so, have them seek out the soldiers’ haunts in Legio.’ He hesitated, stroking the scar on his cheek with the fingers of his left hand, trying to find the right form of words. Finally, he had it. ‘There is talk of rebellion, but everyone knows it will only benefit the officers and the rich. A trader from Nemausus told a merchant in Clunia that the First, or maybe the Seventh, is already on the march from Germania
. Only a fool would risk his neck for one man’s doomed ambition. You see, Tito? Anything that might make a soldier think twice before he acts. If it reaches enough ears it may make them hesitate when the time comes. Even a single century standing its ground would make a difference.’

  ‘It will be done as you say.’ Tito’s face creased into a savage smile at the prospect. ‘I have just the man, and woman, who can do such a thing.’

  When he was gone, Valerius turned to Serpentius.

  ‘There is one thing I didn’t tell you.’

  But Serpentius’s eyes were on the south-west and he put up a hand. Valerius felt a flicker of unease as he followed the Spaniard’s gaze. At first it was just a hazy shimmer on the horizon, but gradually it evolved into a white cloud that turned into a thin pillar as they watched.

  A lookout on the hill behind the village shouted out and a murmur of dismay went up as every eye locked on the smoke.

  ‘It has already begun,’ Valerius whispered.

  ‘No,’ Serpentius corrected him. ‘That is the Castro of the Wild Goats, they can have no reason to link it with us. This is something different. Petronius warned me of a plan to bring the tribes of the high peaks under their control. It was only a question of the timing. If their ambition is as great as we believe they cannot let remain a potential threat to exploit what they leave behind.’ Another pillar of smoke appeared a little closer and further east. ‘As I thought, this is just the start. Valuta!’ An elderly grey-beard shuffled towards them.

  ‘They will come for us eventually, but not for a few days yet. Before we leave, the survivors from the other castros will flee here seeking aid. Is the sanctuary prepared?’

  ‘The caves were stocked with provisions even before your orders, but if there are many more mouths to feed …’ He shrugged.

  ‘It will have to suffice.’ Serpentius looked thoughtful. ‘While we have time you will send all our most vulnerable people ahead. The old and the sick, mothers with young children. They must carry what they can, but only essentials, and bury their valuables in the usual places. When the others start to arrive, do the same. Any man able to wield a sword or a spear must stay, ready to fight. We can muster a hundred, but we’ll need more to defend the pass.’