He took it, and eyed it, opened it, and read it, and they looked at me with a question in his eyes. “This is what keeps you alive. I gave it to you in a burst of anger, perhaps, since I wanted to punish her, and you seemed a suitable tool to upset her. She made you her slave, no doubt, and you serve her still, but this is what gives you, and your family hope. So why give this to me?”
I eyed the scroll with fear. It was indeed what kept Cassia and Gervas alive. “It is here, because I want to gain your trust over that of your mother’s,” I explained. “I would see myself in your service once again.”
He hummed and looked confused. “Do you think I need a shepherd for my cows here in Rhodes? Nay, you are here on her business, and I say no. I—”
I interrupted him, an unwise move with a man like him. “I am here for Rome, for Gaius, Lucius, Germanicus, Antonia, and even Vipsania.” I said, and the last name made him flinch. The only woman he had ever loved, her loss still made him weep. Augustus had divorced them, so he might marry Julia, and Vipsania was married to another, a rival. I gave him the scrolls of Antonia and Vipsania. “And I am risking my family, lord, for this. Rome needs you to guard the lives of those poor boys. Antonia’s as well. The son of Drusus needs you. And I need you. I need you to help regain my family. You must tame your mother and help us as you do. You need to come home, to fix what is broken.”
“You …” he began and went quiet, toying with the two scrolls. “You are trying to do what, exactly?”
I spoke fast, for I saw he was growing agitated and looked trapped. “Gaius will take the helm of this Roman ship after Augustus dies,” I said simply. “But not if Livia … your mother ....” I shrugged. “Gaius and Lucius will both die.”
He stared ahead blankly. “She is planning to kill them? Not only to push them aside?”
“Of course, she is,” I snarled. “Surely you have thought of it?”
He blushed, and nodded. “Yes, of course. Why stop at Drusus, eh? And Germanicus as well? No. It must not be.”
“I could kill your mother,” I said.
He stared at me, his face unreadable, and spoke. “You swore to kill the killer of Drusus. And that is your oath.”
“And yours,” I reminded him
He shook his head. “I shall not kill my own blood.”
“I would,” I said viciously.
He toyed with the scrolls, and looked confused.
“And as for the men in the family of Augustus, you are their only hope,” I added. “You must help them. But you must be subtle.”
He snorted. “A Germani brute telling a Roman noble to be subtle,” he laughed bitterly. “You lot charge in head long, and jump on a shield, trying to stab the bastard behind. And you tell me—”
I went on, stubbornly. “To fool your mother, lord, is the goal. The time is past for you to avoid her. You do not need to honor her, nor do you need her approval. You are a fine lord of men, just and brave. Rise against her, by letting her think she has won.”
“Why, thank you, guard!” he said dryly. “I shall make you my advisor, when I rule the world!”
I cursed in my head, and spoke. “You must convince her that you believe her, forgive her, and in doing so, you shall beat back the evil she has brought to Rome. Save them all. Save Rome. Save my family, that of others she holds. Antonia trusts you. Vipsania does, still.” I pointed at her scroll.
He opened the scrolls, and I saw the one he read many times was the one from Vipsania. He read it like it were honey for a bee, and trembling, he placed it on the table. He toyed with the scroll of Antonia.
“Must? Must I?”
“I trust you” I kneeled. “Your mother would see them all dead. At my hands. I have been made a bodyguard to Gaius, and Augustus is intermarrying the family of Drusus and Julia. He is spawning more and more of his own blood, but Livia will not stand idly by.”
“No,” he said simply, and put down Antonia’s scroll. “She won’t. Intermarrying?”
“Livilla to Gaius, at thirteen,” I snarled. “They are soon married. The brutish Germanicus and Agrippina as well. Livia is already moving to stop it. She has plans I know nothing of, but she had me get close to Marcus Lollius, who is Gaius’s rector. She expects me to kill Gaius, eventually. She has plans for the others, even the idiot Lucius. She holds my family, and I hold the sword that would threaten all of Rome. And only if you help your brother’s family and the poor, helpless boys of Julia, they might survive, if only you---“
“How?” he snarled. “How am I to do any of that? How am I to save anything? I can barely buy men to guard my own life. I can leave, but I cannot go to Rome. I might be murdered any day!”
I spoke forcefully. “By lying to your mother, as she lied to you, that is how,” I braved and felt him stirring with frustrated rage. There were guards, I noticed, walking around the yard, as if they read his mind. He had swung back and forth between anger and incredulity during the entire discussion but, apparently, the guards knew something I didn’t. One had a sword out.
“Lie to her? To my mother,” he said coldly. “You ask the noblest man in Rome to lie.”
“I am not asking you to slay her,” I said as bravely as I could. “I’m asking you to be like your brother was. Clever.”
“Oh,” he sighed, and sat back, cursing. “Clever? No. You are asking me to be a l—”
“A man,” I said bitterly and to his utterly shocked surprise. “A man of your own, as your mother killed the brother you loved. You don’t have a real mother, Tiberius. She died long ago, when she was young.”
He got up, and I saw his hand hovered as if seeking a sword’s hilt. He didn’t have one. “You …”
“I have a plan,” I said, sweating with terror. “One which might work. You will fool Livia, you will be welcomed home by Augustus, to deal with a war he has no generals to fight. You will be the rock Rome anchors itself on, and you will fulfill your oaths.”
“Oaths, and honor,” he laughed bitterly. “No.”
“You will,” I snarled at him, making him take a step back, “because your fucking mother is already weaving a web around your own son. And perhaps he will eventually be as rotten as she is. Oh yes, Drusus the Younger is visiting Livia these days, and where you have failed to please her, he might very well do so.”
He went white in the face, and then turned, and walked indoors. I waited, still kneeling. Staring at the pond, I stayed still in the waning sun, and I felt the guards walking about, getting closer, like starving wolves slowly braving a wounded bear. Finally, I saw a shadow, and I knew Tiberius was walking behind me, agitated and with indecision. He was stalking back and forth, for a long while, and I kept kneeling. I was sure he had a sword now.
Then he walked past me, and crashed on the seat again.
He looked at me with gleaming eyes, a bitter, angry, and sour look on his face. The sword in his hand twitched, as he placed it on the table. “You want me to grow up? You, who deal death to innocents for coin and fear seek to man me up? What have you done to give you the authority to speak like this?”
I shrugged. “At least I don’t fear my own mother.”
He nodded, and rubbed his eyes, laughing softly. “Oh, you shit! Yes. I agree. I agree for my brother, and especially for my son. I agree for Julia’s children, because I did their mother ill service, no matter what she has done on her part. I agree to come back, and serve Rome, if possible.” He leaned forward. “So, you Germani snake. Tell me what you are planning then. Because Augustus, he is bloody mad with me. I confess that I actually asked to return, even to infamy and just a small circle of friends, but he has denied me the wish. I shall be honest with you. I hate this fucking island.”
I kept kneeling, and sweat poured down my back. “He needs you. He just doesn’t know it yet. He needs you because he has none else who can lead his armies.”
He squinted. “So, I need a war to go home,” he stated. “A war to return back to Italy. For me to make sure my mother is happy and carel
ess, and for me to guard my nephews and Julia’s sons, and to serve Rome, I need a grand war to scare Augustus shitless. Is there one to be had?” He tilted his head. “Can you arrange one?”
I shrugged. “It might be arranged. Something to give Augustus pause. It will mean you and I both must break an oath.”
“Oh?” Tiberius said and shook his head. “I think I know what you mean.” His fingers rapped the scroll of Kleitos. “Postumus is the son of your father. He is the promised trophy your father still lacks.”
“That is so,” I said.
“But I have sworn to kill your father,” he said. “How is it manly to make a deal with him?” His eyes glinted with spite.
“I am sure he will give you a reason later to break any deal you might make with him,” I said calmly. “He is like that.”
He snorted, and chuckled. “I will write my mother that all is forgiven. That I accept her explanation. Tell my mother to write Maroboodus, and to tell him that for Postumus to be given back, he will make war on Rome, and we shall make sure no war takes place after I am returned. And if I get back in Rome, I shall guard Rome, the ungrateful shits, and my poor son.”
I nodded. But I didn’t move.
He stared at me. “You have something more in your mind.”
I sighed and nodded. “There is a man who must stay here with you. You will see why. And there is another, who would serve you, one I need in Rome. An evil bastard he is, this Sejanus, but still a man you might listen to.”
“I will hear them,” he said carefully. “But you don’t agree with my plan? Or rather, your own? Or did I misunderstand something? I shall go home, help you, Rome, my relatives, and keep my own son safe?”
“It is my plan,” I said softly, bracing for an execution. “It is a fine, honorable plan. But let me elaborate on it. There is only one way for you to keep your son Drusus alive. And there is only one way for you to be happy once more. Listen.”
He did, as I explained, and then, incredulous, argued savagely, hissed with rage for minutes, slapped me on the cheek, and in the end, slumped in his seat. And finally, his eyes glinting with a very selfish thought, he spoke as if he had a spoonful of bitter ash in his mouth. “Yes. You shit, yes.”
“Yes?”
He nodded, looking away. “Yes, you cur. I have heard your plan, see the flaws in it, am surprised you got this far at all, and so I own your plan now. You merely execute it, as I will it. And I agree to all you asked for.” He gave me a long look. “You are giving away much for this. Very much. But then, so am I.”
I nodded, for I would be giving away a great deal.
“He might not be what you think he is, your father,” he murmured.
“I am sure he will agree.”
I was sure Father would.
He sighed, rubbed his face, having decided on something that might change the future of the entirety of Midgard. He spoke, like the weight of millions was resting on his shoulders. “Go, and guard Gaius, fool Lollius, and let me plan for the details. There will be plenty, and I must be free of Rhodes to succeed. There are many ways to fail, Hraban, and we shall all be left lesser men if we succeed. It is frightening, Hraban, how well you read people. May Juppiter forgive us.”
I got up. “Gods don’t give a shit.”
The following day, Sejanus and I left for Rhodes, while Adalwulf stayed behind, and we set the plans in motion.
***
I was exhausted by the return trip. Bearded, smelly like a used amphora of sun-burned fish-oil, I stood before Livia, who as walking back and forth in the Temple of Saturn. Her eyes flashed my way, and she took note of the bloody state of my gear. “You met my son looking like this?”
“Your son,” I answer spitefully, “is a soldier. He doesn’t mind spatters of shit and clumps of blood. I have bathed. I have not had time to scrub my chain clean. He met me, didn’t complain, and that is all.”
“Did he read my scroll?” she asked, nervous.
“He read it, and wept,” I answered. “He is bitterly hurt by what you did, his mother.”
“But I—”
“You need not convince me,” I told her. “Not at all. You have to convince him.” I handed her a scroll from Tiberius, and her eyes looked huge as platters.
“That is—” she stammered and took small steps forward. “He wrote to me? Or is it to Augustus again?”
“It is for you,” I said, and spoke empathetically and mysteriously, “and contains tears and regret. We went there mainly to fool Lollius into letting me serve with Gaius, and to gain his confidence, but it seems time was ripe to speak to Tiberius as well.”
She took the scroll with trembling hands, her usually composed, even cruel face flowing with emotions, most of them shades of fear and trepidation. “Did he tell you what might be in it?” She stared at it with worry.
“He did,” I told her. “He had a sword on my throat, Livia. He made me swear on my life, and that of my family, that you are sorry for what you did. I lied and said ‘yes’.”
“You think that was a lie, Hraban,” she said sadly. “I am sorry for it all. And yet, no woman building an empire can put a son above such a goal.”
“I am not sure you should place empire above your son when you speak with Tiberius,” I said with spite. “He actually would think Drusus was more important than Rome.”
“Enough,” she answered. “What do you mean? Speak with him? Will he—”
“I said; you have to convince him,” I answered.
“How far one goes for one’s family, Hraban,” she said and opened the scroll, walking away, hands trembling.
She read it for a long time.
“He said yes,” I said and saw her trembling. “He will return to you. He believes you had no intention of hurting Drusus. He believes your lie that he was merely to lose a war, and be embarrassed out of politics and the military.”
“Does he?” she asked, reading the sparse words, though her voice was strained. “He seems uncertain.”
“He is uncertain, he is suspicious, and needs more time before he might show his affection for you,” I told her. “But he will again ask to return to Rome, but as what he was. A general. And a son.”
She wept. The monster shed tears that were not cold, but warm, and nodded her head enthusiastically as she sat down. Everything that she had done, was for him.
“But Augustus will have to be convinced,” she whispered. “How will I do that? Even Varus cannot sway him on this. He dares not even try.”
“Your husband must fear for his Rome’s future,” I said. “There has to be threat of war. Nearby.”
She gave me an absentminded look, thinking. “How did the things go with Adalwulf? Did you manage to convince Lollius? Have you seen Lollius yet?”
“We had trouble, and men who came to check on me died. Flavus died as well,” I said, and she frowned with suspicion, and then looked at the letter. I spoke on. “Lollius will be convinced. Adalwulf is in Hades. I bought off a Praetorian, the only one that survived.”
She was nodding. “Yes. Good. He shall be well rewarded. So. A war must be arranged then. Yes, your father is the solution. Indeed, he is. I hoped to ignore him for all eternity, but it seems I did well not to give Postumus to him. Augustus will need Tiberius and his sword to subdue such a threat. Who would fight Maroboodus? Lollius, snot-nosed Gaius? Varus? No. Only Tiberius would do. Yes, yes. I agree. He is a genius. I will tell Augustus how much Tiberius wishes to return to Rome and go to war, and then, conveniently, we shall give him war. Postumus for Maroboodus, a war will follow, and he shall be back! It is a sound plan:” She tapped the scroll. “Amber is the key. Your father controls it, and can hurt Rome economically, and militarily both. Tiberius is right.”
I smiled inwardly.
My plan, not his.
“And he is right. Maroboodus must send envoys here to make an ultimatum, and I must regain your father’s trust. I shall show his men Postumus. He is brilliant, is he not?”
I
nodded.
My heart sang.
For once, we were working on a plan that was not that of Livia. I smiled at the admiration she had for her son’s intelligence, and nearly thanked the terrible woman, for it was my plan.
She was nodding. “You will return to Lollius, and Gaius, and you will start working on the plans to execute the boy. Lucius also is going to leave for his first missions in the service of Rome, soon. Did you know? To Hispaniola”
“I wish him well. I like him fine, though I have not really spoken with him” I answered. “What of your other plans?”
She smiled and shook her head. “One day, we shall mourn the lot. I shall work on this issue with Maroboodus from now on. You concentrate on Gaius. Forget my plans.”
I turned to leave.
“Hraban?” she said.
I turned.
“Is he well?”
“He is, lady,” I answered. “He is itchy to come home.”
She hesitated. “Would you come to my domus for the night?”
“I’d rather hump a rancid dog,” I told her bluntly.
Her eyes flashed and her hands shook. “Very well. It might be arranged. I will get us war. But, perhaps, if the plan I told you not to worry about works, we won’t even need a war. Or you. Go.”
I turned with worry, and walked away, and hated her enough to want to see her die slowly. Her other plan was better than mine?
I would have to find out more.
I walked to find Lollius with Sejanus. He and Tiberius had spoken for a long time, and he praised me to the heavens to Marcus.
Marcus had a new ally, and our work began.
BOOK 2: PULLING THE FANGS
“I am afraid.”
Gaius to Hraban
CHAPTER 11 (August 1st, 2 B.C., Rome)
I was looking at Lucius, as the boy, or rather the man, was paraded around the Forum, while tossing coin around from a sack held by a slave. They cheered, and more, as other slaves appeared and proceeded to disperse more coin. Others went into a frenzy, as some men were throwing out fresh bread to the crowds. Lucius and Gaius had been given the right to consecrate buildings, and the fabulous Temple of Mars Ultor in the Forum of Augustus had been their first task, one where Lucius had taken the more visible role. The building had been late in getting finished, and indeed, was still being built discreetly on the back, but none cared. He had given a bad speech, but none again truly cared, because the coin, the bread, and the games that would follow were the reason why they were there. The huge temple with the incredibly high red and white marble pillars, every detail of the façade shockingly beautiful, cast a shadow of comfort over the celebration of the youths. Even the taciturn Gaius was happy that day.
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