The Bane of Gods

by Alaric Longward

  I shrugged. “That is more complicated, isn’t it? He is my Decurion.”

  He nodded. “Some Germani I have known are easy to hate. Others, easy to like. You people are one or the other. Honest, or foul. I do think I might like you, as well as your men.” He was quiet for a moment. “But I do not like your Decurion either. We share that worry. Augustus thinks his wife is his good luck charm, but I doubt she has his good luck in mind, but her own. I have never dared to suggest it to him though. Your name?”

  “Corvus. Raven.”

  “I see,” he answered. “Ravens see far. And they are loyal. My father’s slave had one, and it never left his side. When he died, the raven fed on the corpse, until it was chased away, fat.” He chuckled softly and shook his shoulders, thinking deep. “Ah, no, do not get angry. I like uncommonly direct men. You speak your mind. You say what you like, and state what you hate. And still, in the end of the service, you clearly desire reward for hard work. Hraban, in your language? Yes.”

  He spoke in a Germani dialect the Sigambri used, though not very well. I twisted my face into a surprised shock and spoke with awe. “I know you have been in the North, lord, but not that you speak the language so fluently.”

  He looked supremely pleased. “Many men have been to the North. Even Gaius was taken north for some time by Tiberius, some years past. I did more than sit in Moganticum. I once ruled those lands for Augustus,” he explained. “You served whom? Drusus?”

  “Drusus,” I answered. “I served Drusus well. Except in his death. There, I failed. I shall never fail like that again. Though I could not stop that spear from being thrown.”

  Lollius was nodding his heavy head as he watched the trio of young Roman nobles speaking in hushed tones sitting side by side. “Do you think Drusus would approve of this union? Of Livilla and him?”

  “Drusus?” I asked, and smiled. “No. He would have wanted Livilla to choose her own man.”

  Lollius squinted as he looked at me. “You know of my shame?”

  I gave him a quick glance and nodded. “I have heard you were the governor in the North, and led legions in battle against the people there,” I told him, touching a raw nerve. “Against the Sigambri, and the Bructeri.”

  “Legio V Alaudae,” he said bitterly, twitching with uncertainty and anger. “They failed more than I did, but I carry their weight on my shoulders. The bastard sons of goats lost their Aquila to the Sigambri,” he said bitterly. “They lost it, and Maelo took it over the river, with victory. He pissed and shat on it, and probably made love to his women on it. My orders were ignored, my careful plans ruined. And then Tiberius came and changed everything, and took my chance to redeem myself.”

  “Tiberius is a good solider,” I said neutrally. “Though he is no Drusus they say.”

  “And I say Livia’s sons are both lucky where skill is needed, and I was less so. I failed once as well, and that was enough. Do you believe me?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I have no reason not to believe you. I’d not presume to know what took place in the North. Though …”

  “What?”

  “Adalwulf has been telling people of it. He is not alone in telling the story, of course. But he, and Livia, perhaps, have been saying some other things as well …”

  “What?” he asked, a bit too loudly.

  “That you might not be fit to rector Gaius for much longer. That a man of better repute might be needed,” I said, looking sorry. “That is what they are thinking. I hear Livia has been speaking even to Varus about it.”

  His eyes sought out Varus.

  “Wait, you are saying Varus got you on this duty because of her?” he asked.

  “It is possible,” I told him. “Adalwulf wouldn’t tell me. He only mentioned Livia and Varus meet, occasionally, and speak of you.”

  “Varus?” he asked harshly and waved my answer down. “Varus hates my influence over our common friend Augustus. And she? She is seething for the same reason. Yes, I know. Not even Germanicus and his high marriage makes her happy. It should make her gleeful that boy is high in regard with Augustus, but no. And now, she seeks to …” He shook his head with fury. “She is jealous of me. And perhaps …” His eyes went to Germanicus. “What orders have you been given?”

  “I was told,” I said simply, “to guard him. To keep Gaius alive.” I went silent for a moment. “Of course, who knows what orders Adalwulf is given?”

  “And Adalwulf obeys her?”

  “He does,” I said, and silence reigned. I went on. “There was this story in Germania where I grew up.”

  “Story?” he mused. “Tell me a story, Raven.”

  “It was a story of a warrior …”

  “I am bored of warriors,” he muttered. “All the stories are of warriors.”

  I ignored his foul mood. “This warrior was set to serve and guard his thiuda’s young boy. The warrior had served the Thiuda well in the past, but he had in fact been paid to kill the boy by the thiuda’s enemies. The warrior wasn’t a very good guard, as you see, or a good man. The Thiuda had enemies, and some were rich and affluent, and the warrior was poor. The boy was weak-minded, and there were chiefs who thought it would be best if oaths were broken, and the successor to the king’s family were to die, so better men could step in.”

  We both looked at Gaius.

  I went on. “That warrior bowed to the boy, knew he would eventually have to kill the boy, and despite his commitment to lies and power, was very troubled.”

  Silence. I waited.

  “What did the warrior do?” he eventually asked.

  “He felt shamed by the order when it came,” I said. “He was shamed by his decision to take wealth over keeping his oaths. So, instead of slaying him, he made sure the boy lived. He had agreed to a filthy service, but decided no riches are more important than one’s honor. The traitors hung like pigs.”

  He nodded, deep in his thoughts. “You feel your honor is threatened.”

  “For my honor, for that of my friends, and for the turma’s fame,” I added, “I am very much worried.”

  “Friends,” he echoed me, “should trust one like you. And you think Adalwulf is up to no good?”

  He was silent for a long while, eyeing the boys. And then, he finally sighed. “I am not one of those chiefs, who would betray their king, Raven. Perhaps I was once in the past, when I was less wise, but not now. There was a time when I whispered to willing ears, and tried to have my enemies killed for personal profit, but not so any longer. One could think I, for example, think Germanicus there is a threat to Gaius. Aye, Germanicus could be a threat to Gaius, but I doubt it. Tiberius is. He truly could be. But even he went to exile rather than stay in Rome. I make sure he stays there, but I have no more desire for blood.” He rubbed his hands together nervously, and I wondered if he was lying. “But now, perhaps, I must consider the dangers to young Gaius. I must, perhaps, act.”

  I looked uncomfortable. “Will I find a dagger in my back, just to make sure I am no threat to him? Or to you?”

  He didn’t smile, nor deny it. Finally, he spoke. “What is your relationship with Tiberius?” he asked.

  “There are few men who like him,” I answered.

  “Very few, and are you one?”

  I smiled. “I like his military glory, lord. Very much. Otherwise, he is a hard man to understand. Should Gaius go back to his love soon?”

  He laughed softly. “Love? Ah, the girl might fall in love! The boy? Like the prince in your story, our Gaius is, alas, weak. He is timid, terrified, and hides it under a coat of civility and curiosity. Lucius is more a fiery soul, but a fool. Gaius here does what he is told. Augusts wants the marriage. He will tie Julia’s …. his blood,” he said and gave me a quick glance, “and that of Antonia’s blood together and hope Livilla will guide Gaius in the future, like Livia has helped him. Livilla is a clever one. Augustus knows these things. This should please everyone. Perhaps even Gaius.” He gave me another quick look. “Gaius will be happy. But not
safe, it seems. Livia has claws. Her time is over, but still she tries to claw her way to the front rank. And one such claw now guards Gaius. Tell me, Hraban, how would you deal with the situation?”

  And there it was. The reaching tendril, the snake’s tongue slithering and touching me, trying to fathom if I fit his world.

  “I am with Gaius,” I answered bitterly and cast a look back at the doorway of the house proper, where Adalwulf was talking with Wandal. “That claw should be pulled from the paw to be sure. That one. Then Gaius would be much safer.”

  “Yes,” he said brusquely as he saw Adalwulf.

  Lollius stood there literally for minutes, saying nothing. Lollius had been thrown a bait, he had nibbled it, and it intrigued him.

  “So, young man,” he said finally and softly. “I rarely have been happy with the Germani that guard the palace. They have too much power, are too independent, and only Augustus loves how they remind people how he might actually be a king and a tyrant after all. But I hate them. I prefer the Praetorians, though their duties are too widely spread and they are weak in many ways. Also, Romans don’t like soldiers in the city. The Guard is not part of the army but the Praetorians are, so I must use them carefully. I have no control over your men. Livia has too much of it. Always did. You truly have men you trust?”

  “What survived the trouble with Julia,” I agreed. “Why?”

  “Would you not,” he asked, “like to serve your Drusus’s children the best way possible?”

  “Alas,” I said, “I serve as I am ordered to. Adalwulf there, he is Livia’s creature. He serves her more than Augustus. Are you suggesting …”

  Lollius looked at Adalwulf and desire to have him removed played plainly on his face. He was nodding. “Livia is a mighty enemy. Augustus will never let go of her, and I think she holds some secrets even Augustus might find hard to survive.”

  Yes, I thought. She likely did.

  “And she spins her webs in the dark corners where no light travels, and a powerful man might easily step into such a web. Perhaps,” the man said, gauging me as he would a piece of meat hanging in a butcher’s shop, “you might be useful. Very useful. Decurion of your turma, a man close to my heart, I would see your honor satisfied as well as your wealth. A Decurion. A fine position. And who knows what later? I love Gaius, but I too, expect a reward for my efforts when he takes the place of Augustus.”

  “Indeed?” I said, and shifted uncertainly, hoping my acting skills were up to the task.

  “Your honor is important,” he added. “But Adalwulf is in the way. So, I will give you a chance. So,” he said bluntly. “Do you have any ideas how to be rid of him and to blind Livia, so to say? How to rip this claw out of the paw for good.”

  I hesitated, and then grinned. “An opportunity is needed.”

  “Clever men create opportunities,” he said casually.

  “Livia is sending him on a trip,” I answered. “While the rest of the fourth turma and our troop stay here to guard, I am going with him. He is delivering her messages to Tiberius.”

  “To Rhodes?” he mused.

  I nodded. “Such trips can be perilous. I am his guard.”

  The man’s eyes flashed with the irony. “Let us say, that during this trip of yours, he would fall seriously ill. He might not reach Tiberius at all? Such a thing is certainly a possibility.” He was nodding, happy. “You are going to Rhodes. And he is not coming back.”

  “He is not coming back,” I told him. “And after, I shall serve you and Augustus, finally rid of shit.” I turned my head to him. “I shall, if the children of Drusus will survive and serve Rome. And only if.”

  His eyes went to Adalwulf in the doorway of the domus, and then to me, and there was fear there. He had suffered in Adalwulf’s hands, and he flinched at my look and words as well.

  He nodded. “I will never threaten them. When?”

  “We shall leave in a few days. I will make sure he falls.”

  He turned to go. “I shall be in contact with you, and I will, you understand, have to be careful,” he said. “If you help me contain Livia, you must perform this duty, but I shall send men with you. Sejanus will join you. And some other men.” He gave me a long look. “They will judge how well you performed, and then I shall trust you, and we give our oaths to each other, no?”

  I stiffened, smiled, and bowed.

  Adalwulf had been right. The plan was likely to fail. And Marcus had been clever enough to make sure the deal he was making would not go awry.

  I gazed at Sejanus, and knew everything depended on him.

  Later, on our way back to the Block, Adalwulf listened and cursed. “Went well and thoroughly to Hades.”

  I smiled. “No. We got to this point. We shall see. Lollius will send men with us, but not good men,” I said. “It was to be expected. Would you deal with Livia? Tell her we will visit Tiberius, carrying messages from Gaius. Tell her we are getting close to Lollius. Tell her it is imperative for our mission to go to Rhodes.”

  He smiled. “She will be happy we are making advances. But you know she will also want assurances.” He shook his head. “She will send Flavus with us.”

  I smiled. “Yes.”

  He smiled.

  CHAPTER 6

  Our voyage for Rome would begin from Brundisium, a great city in the heel of Italy. We had left the men of our turma behind, and had made sure Gaius would never be alone with anyone we didn’t know. Tudrus, Agetan, and Wandal would watch him like three hawks. According to Adalwulf, Livia had apparently been unhappy with the plan at first, and then happy, as she learnt from her spies that Lollius had indeed embraced me as a potential ally.

  Adalwulf would die.

  In reality, he would have to stay with Tiberius, if Tiberius accepted the plan I was going to propose to him.

  Adalwulf appeared surprised when Sejanus appeared with a few men and explained they would travel east and share the ship on a different mission. As expected, Livia had demanded Flavus join the troop. She had no trust for me, or as little as Lollius had. Adalwulf had brought back scrolls for Tiberius from her as well. I carried them in a bag.

  On the Via Appia, carrying Livia’s scrolls, those of Antonia, and several others, many to important people in the towns along the way, we had time to contemplate on our company. Sejanus had joined with three burly men. Adalwulf and I barely said a single word, and Flavus rode ahead, his blond hair and white skin guarded from Sunna by a wide-brimmed hat. The man seemed in good spirits to be on the road. We stayed in a road-side inn, and sat in isolated companies. Adalwulf and I slept with our hands on our weapons, and didn’t let up the habit once.

  I missed friends, and distrusted the company of curs. Even Adalwulf, I had trouble with.

  When I watched Sejanus, another thought occurred to me.

  Gods only knew if Lollius had given Sejanus an order to kill both of us, after all, and with the scrolls of Livia in our possession, it would not end well for Tiberius. The one scroll by Kleitos would likely equal a good night with a woman for Lollius.

  Looking at the eyes of Sejanus, that was likely exactly the plan Lollius had brewed in his head.

  To gain allies to thwart Livia would be good, but why not just get rid of everyone, just in case? Why not just find what the scrolls held as well? Lollius could, even if he no longer did something like that, by his own claim, easily scheme to get us all killed.

  “We are fucked, Hraban,” Adalwulf said simply on the morning of the last trail to Brundisium. “Fucked.”

  “Aye,” I agreed. “But we shall do our best.”

  If we failed, heads would fall, likely those of our loved ones, and friends as well. And to stop that from happening, that evening I approached Sejanus.

  ***

  Four days after leaving Rome, having ridden at a good pace, dodging caravans of slaves and seedy merchants, and exchanging horses once in cursus publicus, we arrived in the great southern city. The harbor, shaped like a deer’s head, was nestled between war
ehouses and large, brown insulae and that was ultimately where we were going. The green and blue water glittered with welcome. This is where the Via Appia ended, and we travelled past two hulking great pillars set up to celebrate the fact, and entered the city of nearly one hundred thousand people. It had been there when the Greeks built one of the great cities in Italy.

  We had no time to see the sights.

  Our situation was as dangerous and every bit as desperate as the last time we had visited it. We made our way for the harbor, and there we found the massive naval offices, great buildings filled with scribes of all colors and functions. One tallied the supplies, another the weaponry, a third the oars, and the list went on.

  “We are looking for a ship to Rhodes,” Adalwulf told one of them, a man buried under scrolls. “It is supposed to be commanded by one Alexander—”

  The man got up, scrolls flying, and we found a pimple-faced, blond scribe, who, without a word pointed us to a bustling pier, and there, sitting on some steps and having meal, we spotted a wide-chested man in a dirty tunic. Milites, the crew stood behind the man, hauling gear out of a warehouse. Some men were in chain armor, others only in loincloths, and all the brutes unnerved a shivering merchant that had been haggling with the seated, eating man. We pulled our horses along, and spied the confrontation. As we got closer, we noticed the merchant was nervous as a child before a beating, bleating some incomprehensible complaints. There were a few men in better tunics, the nautae, the officers barking at the milites toiling at the ships, and all these men held cudgels, which didn’t help to calm the nerves of the merchant. One of the nautae would be the skilled gubernator, the pilot, prepared well with the knowledge of the waters and their hazards. Also, the celeaust, the officer in charge of the rowers, would be looking to make sure all the men were equipped, and fit. One man, apparently, the ship’s centurion, was lounging behind the seated man arguing with the merchant, and a young, dark-faced optio stood next to him. There would be others, like the doctor, but the large seated man was likely the trierarchus, the captain of the ship, and perhaps also the nauarchus, who commanded all the three galleys. By the looks of the man’s face, a rigid scowl, he seemed the sort to make sure things were in order, and in person.