Marching With Caesar - Civil War

by R. W. Peake

  “What makes it suspicious?”

  I thought it was a reasonable question, but ben-Judah was clearly irritated. “I was getting to that,” he snapped. Now I was growing angry and seeing this, he softened his tone. “I am sorry, Pullus, I did not mean to speak harshly. It’s just that Joseph was a good friend of mine. Anyway, he was off duty and he was drinking at one of the shops near the forum that’s become a popular place for both your men and mine. While he was there, he got into a game of dice with one of your men and I suspect that is the cause of the trouble.”

  “How much did he lose?”

  Ben-Judah shook his head. “He didn’t lose. He won, and apparently, won quite a bit.”

  I bit back a curse, sure that I knew where this was going, but I was wrong. “So you think he was robbed by one of my men?”

  “I wish it were that simple. No, he wasn't robbed because he didn't have any money on his person.”

  Now I was completely confused and I said as much.

  Ben-Judah glanced at Antipater and Caesar, and Caesar signaled that he should continue. “He wasn't gambling with a man from the ranks. He was gambling with a Centurion. The Centurion gave him a marker to cover his debt, and that’s the only thing of any value that Joseph had with him, besides a few coins of his own.”

  I went cold, now understanding why the others were so grave.

  “Do you know who it was?”

  Ben-Judah hesitated. “While I can't be positive, from the description given to me by some of my men who were there, it is in all likelihood your Centurion, Cornuficius.”

  I kept my face composed, but it was difficult, I can tell you. Here was the opportunity I had been waiting for, or so I hoped. That was not something that I wanted Caesar, or the Jews for that matter to know, so I made a show of skepticism.

  “I don’t know,” I said slowly, “that doesn’t seem like Cornuficius. Not that he'd gamble and lose,” I said hastily, seeing that I had angered ben-Judah, “but it’s just not his style to do something so risky. He’s usually cleverer than that.”

  “It was supposedly quite a lot of money,” countered ben-Judah and I asked how much.

  “We don’t know for sure of course, but from what my men overheard, it was in the neighborhood of 5,000 sesterces.”

  I was flabbergasted; that was a small fortune, and while Cornuficius could certainly afford to lose that much, that did not mean he would part with it willingly.

  I forced my mind to move to another part of the problem. “What were the circumstances of his disappearance? When was he first noticed missing?”

  “He didn't leave the wine shop immediately. According to our witnesses, your man Cornuficius left before Joseph, after Joseph refused to continue playing. Cornuficius naturally wanted to win his money back, but that is what he had been trying to do for the last third of a watch that they played, and Joseph finally said ‘enough.’ When Cornuficius left, he was very angry.”

  “I can imagine,” I said dryly.

  “Joseph left some time after Cornuficius did, and was seen heading towards the Jewish Quarter; he had friends living in the city. They are friends of mine as well, so when he went missing, I immediately went and asked these people. They said he never showed up.”

  “And when did you realize he was missing?”

  “He was scheduled to be commander of the watch for the second watch for our part of the camp. He never showed up, so we went looking for him. That is when we heard what happened.”

  I rubbed my face, forgetting that Caesar was standing there as I thought through what I had heard. I had no doubt about what happened, knowing Cornuficius as I did, but I could not voice that in front of Caesar because it would raise questions I did not wish to answer. I had to appear to have Cornuficius’ well-being in mind, at least at this point, meaning I had to ask a question that I knew would anger ben-Judah and probably Antipater as well. I was not sure how Caesar would react.

  “Is it possible that he went to another place to celebrate, drank too much, and is sleeping it off right now?”

  “Joseph drinks very sparingly; I have known him for more than ten years and never once seen him drunk. Nor has he ever missed duty before,” ben-Judah said coldly.

  “I'm sorry, ben-Judah, but I had to ask. This is one of my Centurions we're talking about.”

  I looked over at Caesar, asking him silently for direction. “Pullus, I need you to investigate this, but it needs to be done discreetly.” He turned to Antipater and ben-Judah. "I'm looking to you two to continue your search to try and find your man while Pullus asks some questions. If matters are as you fear, at the very least we need to find a body before we can proceed with any kind of disciplinary action.”

  The Jews nodded their understanding. When Caesar asked them to leave so that he could speak to me privately, they did so.

  Once they left, Caesar turned back to me and without preface asked me, “I don't know Cornuficius well; he’s not been serving me that long and I've been extremely busy the last few months.” He smiled thinly. “So you're in a better position to know. Do you think he did this?”

  I was about to just blurt out that of course I thought he did it, but managed to stop myself.

  Pretending to consider this, I answered, “I honestly don't know, Caesar. But I'll find out.”

  Putting his hand on my arm, Caesar looked up at me, his eyes boring into mine. “Pullus, I hope I don’t have to tell you how incredibly sensitive this is. If this were a civilian, or even a Gregarius, we could do whatever was necessary to make it go away, but of all the allies for this to happen to, the Jews would have been my last choice. They're as touchy about their honor as we are, and they take any crime perpetrated against them by a non-Jew almost as an insult to the whole group.” He shook his head. “I truly don't understand them, but what I do know about them makes me believe that if things aren't handled properly we'll have no end of trouble. And not just with the army. Do you understand?”

  I did not, really, but Caesar saying it was important made it so for me and I told him what he wanted to hear.

  Caesar dismissed me, but before I left he told me, “Time is critical here, Pullus. This needs to be resolved as quickly as possible. That means that I'm authorizing you to use whatever means you deem necessary to extract evidence from the men you suspect being involved in this.”

  I had just been given permission to torture Cornuficius, and despite how much I loathed the man, it chilled me to think about it.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  I did not know with whom I could trust this matter among my Centurions, and I wished that I could talk to Cartufenus, but he was back in Alexandria. One thing that I was fairly sure about was that Cornuficius had not done anything to Joseph personally; he was too clever for that. He would have had some of his toadies in his Century do what needed to be done then dispose of the body, but the question was who they would be. Another thing to consider was how to go about asking questions without alerting Cornuficius and alarming him to the point where he ran for his life. I realized that it was extremely important to Caesar and the Jews that Cornuficius be brought to justice, formally and with due process and there was no way to do that if he escaped. I wish I could say that was my motivation as well, but in plain truth I did not just want him gone, I wanted him dead. Summoning Diocles, who I had grown to trust implicitly by this point, I confided in him the situation I was facing, asking him for ideas. It was he who came up with using himself to begin the preliminary questioning, talking to the slaves of the other Centurions along with some of the men with whom he had contact. Being my personal slave and clerk, Diocles was one of the most popular men in the Legion, the Gregarii bribing him for information about duties and such, something that I am sure he did not think I knew, judging by the look of surprise on his face as I dictate this fact. However, it was something I turned a blind eye to because I knew that he would not betray any truly important or sensitive information, therefore it was Diocles who began asking questions.


  Somewhat to my surprise, he returned in about two parts of a watch, his manner one of suppressed excitement. “Publius was one of them,” he announced.

  Now, there were a number of men named Publius in the Legion, but I knew exactly who he meant; it was my old friend Publius, who I had met the day I was introduced to the Legion. What I did not know at the time was that he was one of Cornuficius’ men, in more ways than one. In fact, Cornuficius had put Publius up to challenging me that day. Publius was Cornuficius’ muscle for keeping the other men in line and for his other schemes, extortion mostly, along with collection of money owed to Cornuficius for gambling debts. To be more accurate, the debts owed to the men Cornuficius used as his fronts for his gambling operations, since it is against regulations for Centurions to gamble with the men. Cornuficius was certainly not the only Centurion who skirted regulations, but every other Centurion I knew only did so occasionally, usually on things like crocodile feedings or something similar, and they did it honestly, winning or losing fair and square. But Cornuficius was not content to trust to Fortuna, preferring instead to rely on men he had trained with loaded dice. I had known, or more correctly suspected, what Cornuficius was up to for some time, yet I had been unable to prove it and frankly, I was more concerned with other matters like keeping as many of my men alive as I could. I supposed that Cornuficius felt comfortable gambling with Joseph because he was a fellow officer, but what puzzled me was how a sharp operator like Cornuficius had managed to lose to someone like Joseph. However, that was not my major concern, and now Diocles had given me a place to start, except I could not just go to Publius, grab him up, then drag him back to my tent; instead I would have to rely on someone I trusted. Thinking about Felix, I decided against it, not because I did not trust him but I did not want to put him in an awkward position with the other Centurions when this came to light. Then an idea struck me, and I told Diocles to go fetch someone.

  This was the first time that Gaius Tetarfenus had an occasion to be called into my presence and he was understandably nervous. I was struck by an unexpected pang of sympathy, remembering what it felt like to be a ranker called into the presence of the Primus Pilus. I immediately set out to put him at ease by offering him a seat, which was unusual and in fact had the opposite effect intended, making him even more nervous than when he first walked in. Consequently, I had Diocles bring some wine, offering him a cup, and I could clearly see his hand shaking as he took what Diocles offered.

  “Tetarfenus, you're not in any trouble. In fact, I need your help.”

  This seemed to help his nerves, but now he looked at me suspiciously; it is not often that a Primus Pilus asks a lowly Gregarius for anything other than sweat, blood, or both, sometimes at the same time.

  “There's a matter that I'm charged with investigating, and it involves Publius from Cornuficius’ Century.”

  I decided to be at least partially truthful with him, plus I was counting on a piece of information that I had been aware of for some time and I was gratified to see Tetarfenus’ lip curl at the mention of Publius’ name.

  “What has that piece of cac done now, sir?”

  I suppressed a smile at Tetarfenus’ open contempt, happy that I had guessed correctly and chosen a man whose hatred of Publius was so virulent, for that was the information I had received some time before, that there was much bad blood between Publius and the brothers Tetarfenus, though I did not know why.

  “That’s something you don’t need to worry about. But I need him brought here so I can question him, except it needs to be done discreetly.”

  He looked confused, so I rephrased my words. "Nobody should know that you bring him here. Particularly his Optio or Centurion.”

  I heard the sudden intake of breath as he looked at me sharply, suddenly wary. “May I ask why, sir?”

  “You can ask, but I'm not going to tell you, for a couple of reasons, which you don't need to know either. You need to trust me.”

  He did not reply, but finally nodded his head.

  His eyes narrowed in thought, then he said, “I'll need some help; he’s a big bastard. I can rely on my tent mates to give me a hand.”

  “And they'll keep their mouths shut?”

  He gave me a cold look, and while his words were polite, there was no mistaking the anger in his voice. “I'd trust them with my life Primus Pilus. I have been trusting them with my life for more than 16 years.”

  “Fair enough. I meant no offense. It’s just that, as I said, this must be kept quiet.”

  “I swear on Jupiter’s stone that we'll get him here without anyone knowing.”

  “How do you plan on doing it?”

  He grinned at me. "Primus Pilus, you don’t really need to know that.”

  I laughed, then sent him on his way, but my stomach was in knots.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Tetarfenus was as good as his word. Shortly after midnight, when the camp was silent and dark, the men sleeping soundly, I heard a commotion outside my tent, whispered curses, and the sound of something being dragged. I was lying on my cot fully dressed, so I leaped to my feet, walking quickly into the front part of my tent just as Diocles was opening the front flap. Tetarfenus and three other men struggled past Diocles, dragging an inert form, dropping him at my feet. It was Publius, who was out cold, but when I examined him, I did not see any marks on him to indicate that he had been knocked out.

  I gave Tetarfenus a questioning look and he grinned at me. “Not a mark on him, Primus Pilus. We invited him to our tent to have a drink. We drugged his wine.”

  “But you hate him. He doesn’t know that?”

  Tetarfenus and the other men laughed, and he gave a shrug. “Nobody ever accused Publius of being smart. All he heard was free wine and he came running.”

  “Well, I can’t question him here. I have a wagon out back. Drag him to it and throw him in. Then you're dismissed.”

  They dragged Publius, who was snoring so loudly that I was sure that the sentries on the walking posts would hear him and come to investigate, dumping him into the back of the wagon. Before they left, I handed Tetarfenus a bag of coin, telling him to split it with his friends as he saw fit. His teeth gleamed in the moonlight as he saluted me before walking off, keeping to the shadows of the tents as he and his tent mates made their way back to their area. Jumping onto the bench, with Diocles beside me, we drove the wagon out of the camp. Nobody stopped to challenge me; I was the Primus Pilus of the 6th, my coming and going answerable only to the Legates and to Caesar himself. Driving to the building Caesar had selected as his praetorium, I dragged Publius out of the wagon and hoisted him over my shoulder, staggering under his weight. With Diocles leading the way, we headed for the basement. The building Caesar occupied was the provincial administrative offices, and there were cells in the basement where prisoners were held awaiting trial, along with a bare room that served as an interrogation chamber, and was where we headed. The headquarter guard that night were members of Caesar’s own bodyguard, replacing the men who were scheduled to stand guard, men from the 6th, since I did not want them seeing me dragging Publius off to gods know where, and they let us pass, not even giving us a second glance. It struck me that this had to be a common enough occurrence for these men that it did not warrant any extra attention, then shrugged the thought off. Publius was heavy and unconscious he was dead weight, making my legs shake from the strain, but I staggered down the stairs, following Diocles, who was carrying the lantern. We fumbled our way past the cells, which fortunately were empty, entering the chamber. There was a single chair, with arms that had ropes attached to them, along with leg irons chained to the feet of the chair. The two men from the torture detachment were standing there waiting for us, hard-faced men who looked almost bored. With their help, I dumped Publius into the chair, bound him with rope and chain, then we sat waiting for him to wake up.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Publius came to consciousness slowly, his eyes blinking as his scarred head lifted and he began looking
around, clearly confused. He tried to stand, but the ropes and chains held him in place, causing him to fall back heavily, and he stared dumbly at his bindings as his brain, not the fastest part of him under best of circumstances, tried to make sense of his surroundings. I waited for his mind to register that he was not alone before stepping into the circle of light thrown by the single lantern that Diocles had lit. Debating with myself about wearing a mask or otherwise disguising myself, I quickly decided that besides being pointless, I could use it to my advantage. Not only was I Primus Pilus, I was one of the few men who had beaten Publius in his life, and I had done it fairly efficiently and easily. Once you do that to a man, you own a piece of his soul for the rest of his life, which was what I was counting on. So I stepped into the light, watching his face transform as he struggled to focus on me, the realization written plainly on his face when he recognized me that he was in deep trouble.

  “Gregarius Publius, I'm going to ask you some questions. You're going to answer the questions truthfully and you're going to tell me everything I want to know. Do you understand?”

  “Why am I tied down? I haven’t done anything!”

  “That’s not what I’ve been told. What I heard is that you're involved in something that has drawn the attention of Caesar himself. That’s why you’re here.”

  His face turned white at the mention of Caesar’s name, as it should have. For a ranker, to have his name mentioned in the same breath as Caesar’s meant either great things, or truly terrifying things, and Publius was smart enough to know that if Caesar was aware of his existence it was not for anything good.

  “I didn’t do anything, I swear by all the gods!”

  He began pulling at his bonds, and for a moment, I worried that he might break free, because Publius was nothing if not exceptionally strong.

  However, they held, so I waited for his struggles to subside before I spoke again. “Publius, I won't lie to you. Your fate is sealed. The only thing that is at question is the manner in which you die. It can be a quick, clean death, or you can spend your last watches in a torment of agony that you can't imagine.”