The Snake Catcher

by Bilinmeyen

  “But, here we are,” Livia said, her head tilted with confusion. “Here we are, after your lover and fellow conspirator tried to kill Tiberius. And your father.”

  Julia was balling her fist, and shaking her head. “I am not afraid to admit my crime. I agreed to marry Iullus. You heard us speaking with him? Yes, you did, you sneaky old witch. I’m glad you didn’t see his face. It must have been a torture for you to discover his identity.” Livia smiled in return, keeping her calm, but Julia spat at her feet. “I gave Iullus the information he needed, and, yes, I had an affair with him, long ago. With others.” She resisted looking back at me. “But, I have never asked Iullus to kill anyone else. Only that ice-hearted bastard.” She gazed at Tiberius with such contempt, the man looked away. “I’m not guilty of anything else but conspiring to kill him. And there he stands, again the hero of Rome. Triumph? Yes, triumph for Tiberius, who hated his wife and failed in his duty to her.”

  Augustus raised his hand. He took a shuddering breath. He waved at us. “I shall contemplate on the matter of the son of Mark Antony. Iullus shall remain in his house, until I have decided on the punishment.”

  “He is guilty—” Livia began.

  “Silence!” Augustus roared. “My daughter, a fool if I ever saw one, trusted the whisperings of a bitter, unforgiving man. I shall contemplate on the issue, and on the matter of this terrible marriage between my daughter and Tiberius. She is not forgiven. Nor shall she be. As for Drusus,” he said sadly, “I have no proof. There is no proof to be had of Iullus murdering Drusus. None. Nor is there any proof he attacked Antonia. But, he is guilty of trying to murder me and Tiberius. Since we both live, we have time to think about this, do we not?”

  Tiberius shuddered with anger. “Put Iullus under the blade and fire, and he will—”

  “Admit anything,” Augustus whispered. “Take your leave, Tiberius. Enjoy your triumph. Iullus will never conspire against you. And I shall decide what will happen to them. Iullus will be questioned. But, I doubt he shall tell much.”

  Blood was hurtling in my ears. I was enraged, disappointed, furious. Father had come home, his mission, his lies had killed thousands, my loved ones included. Drusus would be left unavenged. After years of suffering, Augustus was letting them go. And so I stepped forward. “There are men, one Antius, Istros, Ulrich, who work for Iullus. They can be forced to speak. Antius is no ancient nobleman, whose rear has to be spared. With all respect, Lord, you have spared Iullus too many times. And perhaps, there is a reason why you let them—”

  I shut my mouth, short of accusing him of the death of Drusus.

  The silence was so absolute, one had to make sure they had not turned into statues. They looked at me with mixture of emotions. There was fury, there was astonishment. Augustus moved. “What would a Guard know of these things?”

  He needed proof. And so, I begged forgiveness from Cassia. “My father, Maro—”

  Augustus stood up. He hissed something, upset, and lifted his hand. I put my jaws together, and panted in my rage. He glowered at me, and turned around. “Leave us alone.”

  Livia looked startled. So did Julia, whose face was pale with horror. I stood there, my wounds bound and face blushing. I didn’t look into anyone’s eyes as they slowly exited, murmuring amongst themselves.

  Augustus sat down.

  He beckoned me closer.

  I went to stand before him, and he looked up at me. “On your knees, son of Maroboodus. My neck aches”

  I frowned, and obeyed.

  He leaned closer. “There is a reason why I let them live. But, it’s not because I am guilty. Do you think I had a part to play in what happened to Drusus?”

  I shrugged and decided I had gone so far to the sea already; I could not possibly row back without help. “I don’t know. But, you are letting them all off the hook. That is suspicious.” I hesitated. “You know about my father?”

  He shook his head. “Wait. And listen. I loved Drusus. He was willful and young, but also a great man of ancient blood. He had his dreams, and I wonder if he had gotten his dearest wish, would he have been disappointed in his precious Senate? The old blood is gone from Rome. It was purged in the civil wars, and only echoes can be heard of the great men and women of the past now. Had he tried to change things peacefully, he would have hated the filth of the greedy shits that make up the Republic’s finest now. Had he raised an army, he would have fought battles from Germania to Italy, while the rest of the world would have turned against him. And I, Corvus, would have had him assassinated the moment he tried.” He shook his head. “I need no schemes to act forcefully. But, I had nothing to do with his death. I watched him, very carefully, but did not kill him. Someone else did, and perhaps Iullus was involved. He was richer than most men, resentful and petty, intelligent and scandalous, and I do believe he is guilty and capable of murder. He is guilty of this deed, anyway.” He rapped his hand on his chair. “You did know Iullus and Drusus were friends, right? That they both harbored dreams of a Republic restored? What say you to that?”

  I hesitated. “Perhaps they had falling out? Perhaps Iullus decided he wanted what you have, and forgot about the Republic? He might have decided the past would be easier to restore if the greatest generals of the age were dead? You should question him. Kill him.”

  “No,” he answered.

  “Why not execute him?” I asked desperately. “He has caused the death of my family, the evil my father let loose in the world of the north. He deserves—”

  He shook his head. “There is no reason to make a martyr out of him. Not yet. I doubt he was alone in this. I suspect some men of standing behind him. Instead of killing him, I shall work to find what he has been doing, and with whom. I have time still. I may make an ally of Iullus for now, and kill him later? Rome is not yet mine, not fully. Men like that have to be rooted out. They are corrupt and small, but still dangerous.” He stared at me. “As for you, yes, I know you. Drusus asked me to keep an eye on you.”

  “Drusus?” I breathed. Lies.

  “Drusus,” he chuckled dryly, “gave you to Tiberius. He hated me, but he also knew I had nothing to do with his death, and could help you root out the evil that killed him. Alas, that it was possibly my daughter who killed him!”

  “She did,” I said with a soft voice.

  He waved his hand. “Perhaps, and perhaps not. Drusus told me much about you, and your choices. While I am no friend to your homeland, Drusus knew I’d have equal need of you as Tiberius. You have served my wife against my daughter, but my wife saved my life by employing you, did she not? I have watched you in work, and your sufferings. Tell me, what became of Maroboodus, the man who saved my life in the Cantabrian War, before he deserted the Guard. Tell me everything.”

  And so, I told him everything, including the fact Postumus was Father’s son. It was my revenge on Julia, if she were to survive her crimes.

  He sat there, holding his face after it was over. He rubbed a stain on his toga, and sat still, thinking. “Iullus is caught,” he said softly, after a long contemplation. “The rest of the conspirators are sad maggots hiding under a rock. Tiberius will survive, so will Antonia, but gods know what is missing. Something is missing.”

  “Yes, Lord,” I said miserably.

  He looked at me with sorrow. “Your father claims Postumus is his?” he said softly, his eyes flashing. “Truly?”

  “They all claimed it,” I said carefully, not sure how he would react.

  He was nodding to himself, calm as ice. “He is different from the others. Less kind. Less Roman.”

  “He is,” I said, suddenly nauseous with the suspicion Postumus’s fate would be rough indeed.

  “This Antius,” he chuckled tiredly. “To find him would be useful.” He got up. “I sense there is something I do not understand about this whole affair. For now, you serve Tiberius and the Guard. Stay far from Julia. And let me handle the rest. And I thank you for your service, Corvus. It has been interesting to see how you have worked
. Blunt and full of passion in a world of shadows and intrigue, and despite the losses, you managed it this far. Maximus is a keen man, who shared many thoughts with me. Kleitos, his lies, his death, I knew all about it. The odd business he was involved in, supposedly in this conspiracy? Uncovering it was well done, no matter if my wife thought you made a mess of things. Despite your father, I think we shall have great use of you, young man. And perhaps against him, one day. Gaius and Lucius will have a use of you, very soon as they grow up.”

  I hesitated. “What is to become of Tiberius.”

  He hesitated. “What do you mean?”

  I cursed. “I made an oath to Drusus to aid him and to keep him safe, to make sure no ill comes to him. I swore it, and I would keep the oath.”

  He leaned down at me. “What becomes of Tiberius? I told you. I had no part in the death of Drusus. I shall have no part in his. Tiberius doesn’t want power. He hates it, fears it, loathes it. He loves a duty far from Rome, far from us, and he is a loyal man. If that changes then I shall take precautions. If he wants more than I give him, he shall find he gets less. He will stay married to Julia, for now, and I can only beg things will calm down with him and his mother. I will not ask you to break your oaths. But, you will give me oaths as well. Unlike most, you seem to be fond of keeping them. Odd it is, that Drusus told me you are called the Oath Breaker.”

  “Yes, Lord,” I said, and gave him oaths to serve him.

  He got up. “We will see, Corvus. We will see what happens.” He smiled at me as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Keep your eyes open. Something will happen, and then, sink your jaws into it, and drag the truth to my feet. Even if it takes years, find out the truth. Break the rules, and I shall forgive you, if you aid me.”

  He left, and I got up. I served Tiberius and Augustus, and we had done well.

  But, he was right. Something was missing.

  I stepped out after him, and faced Julia. Her face was one of anguish, and she was wringing her hands as the Guards were moving her away. “Why?”

  “Because Maroboodus killed my family,” I said. “His own family. And I loved them.”

  “And you didn’t love me?” she despaired, sadly.

  I shook my head, and said nothing, not able to hurt her more. “You killed Drusus.”

  She calmed down, and smoothed her stola. “As the gods hear, I did not.” She turned away, and walked off, escorted by the Guard.

  BOOK 5: SNAKES IN THE EAST

  ‘Even Tiberius was so horrified by the truth, he retired and buried himself in silence in the middle of nowhere.’

  Hraban to Antius

  CHAPTER 24

  The year ended, and Palatine had changed. Julia was a virtual prisoner. Iullus was locked away, his guilt solidly established. Augustus was holding all the strings in his hands, and playing a patient game, but even the old man seemed subdued and contemplative of the woes in his life.

  I no longer served Livia’s causes.

  I served Tiberius and Augustus, and my heart sang. Cassia returned to Rome, and we had a semblance of normality in our lives, despite the fact I still served in the Guard. She was living near Augustus’s house in a small domus, and I saw them daily, before or after duty. While we no longer served Livia, Gisil had become fast friends with Cassia, and Flower still served her. Livia had not accomplished all she wished, but in the end, Julia had been exposed and was under guard. Livia did not seek me out to thank me, and I suspected Augustus had told his wife to keep her distance.

  Tiberius lived. Perhaps that was enough for Livia in any case.

  Tiberius held speeches, and we guarded his life.

  He hosted a gigantic feast in the Capitolium, and promised to restore the Temple of Concordia, and to dedicate it to his dead brother, Drusus. It was just one of the hundreds such dedications to the young hero’s memory. On the seventh of February, he held a Triumph, and Rome enjoyed a fabulous day of celebration and adulation rarely seen in Rome since Augustus had made sure none would rival his glory. Tiberius and Piso became Consuls for the year, and Tiberius was preparing to leave for the north again.

  And yet, Tiberius was not satisfied with the way Julia’s conspiracy had ended.

  In a feast that evening, he gestured me over. He walked with me to the side, where some men talked, and they disappeared when they noticed the great man approaching. He turned to look at me. His wide jaws were tight with tension. “So,” he said.

  “Yes, my lord,” I answered simply.

  He chuckled. “My wife was guilty after all.” He shook his head, as if saddened by the fact. “And yet, she didn’t make things easy for us. She denied killing my brother. Just like Iullus did.”

  “Lies, Lord?” I asked.

  He looked down at his hands, frowning, thinking. “They deny the murder, but still admit to conspire to kill me and her father?” he said stiffly. “Yes, it could be a lie. Lies have been told aplenty. The Hill echoes with falsehood. A liar needs no reason to lie, eh? But, they both told the same lie, and things are convoluted.” He waved his hand to the north. “I’m going back there again.”

  I looked around the crowd. Augustus was speaking with Livia, not too far away. “I serve you Lord. Shall I come with you?”

  He snorted. “I heard from my stepfather you still serve me as Drusus wanted, but he hopes to keep you in Rome. The old man is thinking there will be more tragedy to come. You are to stay here and keep your eyes open, eh?”

  I said nothing, but bowed.

  He rubbed his face tiredly. “Maximus is his man. Adalwulf is mine. You are a shared asset.”

  “It seems so,” I agreed. “I hope you two won’t stand on the opposite sides, since your humble asset would likely be torn apart along with his family.” I wasn’t sure why I said that, but I needed assurances.

  He grinned. “Augustus probably told you Tiberius is a good hound, loyal and stiff in his ways. Do not worry. He is right. I desire no higher honors than I have been given. What good would bearing his crown do me?”

  “You might—” I began, and went silent.

  “Go on,” he commanded.

  “I cannot,” I said with a begging voice. The thought had just popped into my mind, and I wanted to bury it. He wouldn’t let me.

  “I said, go on,” he growled.

  I cursed myself, and spoke. “As the Princeps, you might have Vipsania Agrippina back on your side. Who would deny you that?”

  He stood there, astonished. He stared at me like a feral wolf over a bleeding carcass, and finally shook his head. “I suspect, Hraban, that one day you shall either lounge in a very high seat besides the Princeps, or fall so deep into the darkness, that none shall remember your name. Those were dangerous thoughts to be aired, my friend.” He smiled. “But, I shall remember them. It is not the first time someone has whispered such to my ears, though I have refused to listen.”

  Who? Livia? I thought. Possibly.

  She had not spoken with a lowly Guard about her plans of the future, but surely she hoped her son to reach as high as possible after Augustus died. Perhaps even as the Princeps. So involved had we been with trying to save Tiberius, we had never thought about what would come after. If Augustus heard of Livia’s plans—if she had any—Tiberius would not be safe.

  Neither would we, or our loved ones.

  I felt uncomfortable as he kept chuckling and shaking his head, and I was afraid I had created a monster. He stopped smiling and stared at me. “I’m free of Julia. We are married to all appearances, but nobody expects me to live with her, and she won’t be able to hurt me easily now. But, when I plan my battles, I do not enjoy uncertainty and seek to find out everything about the enemy, at any cost. I do not know what Augustus has asked of you, or what he expects, but I need something. A closure. I know if I seek to know more about Iullus and my wife, it might not lead to closure at all, but more yawning, open doorways. There could be more enemies after my life. Will you help me?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Ju
lia and Iullus. I need to know if they killed Drusus,” he said simply. “I matters little in the great scheme of things, Corvus, but I need to know.”

  “How, my lord, would we find this out, since your father will not torture Iullus,” I answered, and there was a displeased look on his face, as if he had smelled rotten meat.

  “I’d stretch him until he begs for release,” he growled. “I have heard things. I’ve heard Adalwulf spent a lot of time trying to find this Antius we lost. And I hear Kleitos had a stash of documents that were lost.”

  “Lives were lost as well that day,” I muttered.

  “Lives were lost, indeed,” he said wryly. “But, do you know what became of the parchments?”

  “Istros and Antius have them,” I said bitterly. “They are gone, and we will never know what might have been in them, if anything. They probably destroyed all of them. They found where we hid them, killed the boy who helped us.”

  He shook his head. “No. Adalwulf has been looking for more than Antius. He has been looking for a rogue Guard who escaped the block that day. A man called … Grim? Yes, that’s the one. He deserted the Guard that day, and took your boy from the fort, and killed him after he found this hideout. This man likely took the documents. Kleitos and his crew never found them. The guardsman betrayed Kleitos and the other conspirators and took the scrolls, and hid himself in Rome.”

  My mouth opened with astonishment. “What? Did Adalwulf tell you this, Lord?”

  He was rubbing his fingers together, as if filthy by the rumors. “Adalwulf, he is loyal, but he for some reason, he has not been around a lot. Flavus, the one you call Rochus, has taken over for him for now. I hear they are trying to find this Grim and the scrolls.”

  “Rochus hasn’t been around much,” I said stiffly. “I figure he’d have special place with your mother and you.”

  He waved me down. “He’s been useful in the north. He is clever while Rome. Fits right in. But, as I said, for some reason, they have been … unavailable to me lately. So I turn to you.”