Praetorian c-11

by Simon Scarrow

  ‘There’s not much he can do. It will be up to the Praetorian Guard to keep order on the streets at any cost. Prefect Geta has suggested that he returns to Rome and calls out the rest of the Guard to start preparing the defence of the imperial palace, the senate house and the temples. Claudius will remain here tonight and watch the games in the morning before he and the rest of the imperial family slip away.’

  ‘What does Narcissus want us to do?’ asked Macro.

  ‘Nothing yet. Just be ready to act when he sends word.’

  ‘There is something that we can do,’ said Cato. ‘Something that we have to do now.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Find that grain that’s missing from the warehouse.’ Cato stared fixedly into Septimus’s eyes. ‘You tell Narcissus we must find it. The Praetorian Guard won’t be able to hold back the mob for long. Only that grain can save the Emperor now.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The next day, once the spectators’ attention was fixed on the renewal of the fighting on the lake, the Emperor discreetly departed, accompanied by only the Empress, Nero and Britannicus. Most of his retinue remained in the pavilion to cover his absence. Tribune Burrus left the First Century of his cohort behind to guard the pavilion and to add to the deception. The rest of his men formed a column behind the empty prisoner pens and took a little-used path between the foothills before joining the main road leading to Rome. They reached the city gate early in the afternoon and saw at once the measures being put in place by Prefect Geta. The men of the urban cohorts who usually stood guard over the gate and collected the tolls had been sent to patrol the streets and their places were taken by Praetorians.

  Inside the city wall the streets were quiet and almost deserted since most of the inhabitants of Rome were enjoying the entertainment at the Albine Lake. Sections of men from the urban cohorts occupied the main crossroads. As the column crossed the Forum and approached the imperial palace, Cato noted that the doors to the temples were closed and wooden barricades comprised of sharpened stakes had been placed about the entrances. Behind the barricades stood more men from the Guard. Similar defences had been erected to protect the palace gates. Once the imperial family and its escort had been safely escorted inside, the gates of the palace were closed behind them and the locking bar was heaved into its receiver brackets for good measure.

  ‘Place looks like a fortress,’ Macro said quietly as he looked round at the preparations being made for the defence of the palace complex. Wagons had been positioned behind the wall either side of the gate and covered over with planks to provide a fighting step. Stocks of javelins lay in bundles on the ground beneath the wagons.

  Cato shrugged. ‘Maybe, but the Praetorians can’t hope to cover every way in. The walls are easy enough to climb over in many places. It’s just a show of force. The prefect’s hoping to intimidate the common people when they return from the lake.’

  ‘They’ll behave, once they see soldiers everywhere,’ Macro replied confidently.

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘Of course. They’d be mad to go up against the Praetorians and the urban cohorts. They’d be slaughtered.’

  ‘But they will be mad. Hunger will drive them to it, and they will have nothing to lose. In any case, the Praetorians will also be without food soon. They’ll be weakened, and perhaps even tempted to make common cause with the mob.’ Cato lowered his voice. ‘When that happens, the people who control the grain will become the real power in Rome.’

  He looked around at the preparations to defend the palace, and saw more guardsmen higher up the Palatine Hill, posted on the balconies and the garden terraces. The sight provoked an unsettling thought.

  ‘This may look like a fortress, but it could equally be used as a prison, or a trap.’

  Macro turned to him. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The imperial family are surrounded by Prefect Geta’s troops. The senate house has been sealed up and I’ll bet there will be a curfew imposed on the streets until the crisis is resolved, one way or another. Anything could happen to the Emperor and his family and Geta would be able to tell the outside world whatever story he liked. And once that hidden grain is released to the mob, they’d be grateful to whoever saved them from starvation. By the time Geta lifts the curfew, Rome might well have a new emperor, or no emperor at all.’

  Macro thought for a moment before he responded. ‘You’re jumping at shadows again, lad. This is happening because the grain convoy from Sicilia was lost in that storm. The Liberators can’t have foreseen that.’

  ‘No, but they are prepared to take advantage of the opportunity it presents to them. Trust me, Macro, if they intend to strike, they’ll do it soon. Very soon.’

  Cato looked over to where Tribune Burrus was conferring with his officers. Beyond them Prefect Geta appeared from a small entrance beneath the wide flight of stairs that ascended to the lofty portico of the palace’s main entrance. Burrus and the others stood to attention as they became aware of his approach. Geta issued a rapid series of commands and then returned to the palace as the group split up. Tigellinus strode across the courtyard to his century and called for their attention.

  ‘Men, the prefect says there will be trouble on the streets of the capital in the coming days. The riot we saw earlier was merely a taste of what we can expect. The food supply in the city is all but exhausted. There is barely enough left in the palace to feed us on half rations for more than two days. From tonight, rations will be cut to a third.’

  There was a groan from some of the men, and a handful of angry mutters before Tigellinus snatched a deep breath and roared at his men, ‘Silence in the bloody ranks! I don’t like to go short any more than you do, but we have orders to carry out, and our duty is to protect the Emperor. The Sixth Century will take up position in the imperial accommodation suite. Apart from those barbarian thugs of the German bodyguard, we are the last line of defence.’ He paused to let his words sink in. ‘You will be vigilant. You will carry out your orders without question. Without question, gentlemen. This is an uncertain time, a dangerous time. When it is over, the only thing that will matter to us is that we did our duty. Optio Fuscius will take you to your stations. The cohort will be relieved at dawn. That is all.’

  Tigellinus handed a set of waxed tablets to his optio and stood aside as Fuscius stepped forward and puffed out his chest to give the order. ‘Sixth Century, follow me!’

  As the guardsman marched past their centurion, Tigellinus briefly fell into step alongside Cato and Macro. ‘Be ready to act on my order. Whatever that order may be. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Cato muttered, and Tigellinus stepped away from the column and watched the rest of his men file past.

  The optio led the way up the wide stairs and through the main entrance into the palace. There was evidence of the prefect’s preparations on all sides: checkpoints at the entrance to every audience chamber and banqueting suite, and at the doors to the slave and servants’ quarters. Some entrances had been closed off and the doors barricaded by heavy items of furniture. The imperial accommodation was at the highest point of the Palatine Hill, overlooking the Forum. It comprised a range of sleeping chambers, studies and terraced gardens. There was one entrance to the suite from within the palace but a determined man could scale the walls from below and Fuscius positioned men to guard against such a threat. The optio consulted the waxed tablets that Tigellinus had handed him and pointed to Macro.

  ‘Calidus! You and Capito here, on the balcony outside the Emperor’s study.’

  Macro nodded and he and Cato climbed the steps up on to the colonnaded balcony. Fuscius waved the rest of the men on to the largest of the terraced gardens. As they marched off, Macro turned to Cato.

  ‘What was Tigellinus’s little pep talk all about? The only thing that matters is that we obey orders.’ Macro puffed his cheeks. ‘Looks like you might be right about what’s going on. The Emperor’s in danger.’

  At that moment there were foots
teps inside the study and Macro and Cato quickly stood to attention, backs against the pillars on either side of the door leading from the balcony into the study. Out of the corner of his eye, Cato saw Claudius limp over to his desk and sit down on a padded stool. Two of his German bodyguards silently took their places on either side and a short distance behind their master. In front of the desk stood Prefect Geta, Narcissus and Pallas, together with Agrippina. Narcissus glanced towards the men guarding the access from the balcony and for an instant there was a look of surprise in his thin features, before he forced his face to assume its customary neutral expression.

  Claudius flicked a finger at Geta. ‘Make your r-report, Prefect.’

  ‘Sire, I have six cohorts in the palace precinct. Three on duty until the morrow and three resting. The other cohorts have taken control of the city gates, the Forum and the senate house. I have ordered that the senate’s proceedings be halted until the crisis has passed.’

  ‘Oh?’ Claudius looked at him sharply. ‘In whose name did you give such an order?’

  ‘Yours, sire. You were still on your way back to the city at the time. I thought it best to act at once rather than risk any delay. For the safety of the senators.’

  Claudius considered this and nodded. ‘Very well, but I will not have my officers take such d-d-decisions in my name again. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, sire. My apologies.’

  There was an awkward pause before Claudius spoke again. ‘So, gentlemen, what are we to do? There are a m-million people in Rome, and almost nothing to f-f-feed them with. I trust that orders have been sent to every town and village for at least a hundred m-miles to send what food they can?’

  Narcissus nodded. ‘Yes, sire. I sent out messengers the moment I heard about the loss of the convoy. They carry orders to requisition whatever food and transport is available to supply Rome.’

  ‘On my authority as well, I dare say.’

  ‘Yes, sire,’ Narcissus replied. ‘As the prefect stated, there was no time to waste.’

  ‘I see.’ Claudius sniffed. ‘It would appear that the government of R-r-rome can continue perfectly well in my absence.’

  There was another awkward silence before Claudius spoke again. ‘Anyway, even if food is requisitioned, it will not arrive in sufficient quantities to save the m-mob from starvation. Is that not true?’

  ‘Alas, yes, sire,’ said Narcissus. ‘That is why you and your family should leave Rome until the danger has passed.’

  ‘Leave Rome?’

  ‘Yes, sire. As soon as possible. Before the mob returns from the Naumachia and discovers what has become of the grain fleet. Once they hear the news, there will be panic and a breakdown of order. The imperial family will be in danger.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Geta interrupted. ‘My men will see that you are adequately protected.’

  ‘You command nine thousand soldiers,’ Narcissus replied. ‘You are outnumbered a hundred to one. Even the Praetorian Guard cannot defy such odds.’

  ‘We’re game. Let ‘em try to break in here and see what happens.’

  ‘If they get over the walls of the palace, then it’s obvious what will happen. They will butcher everyone they find. Regardless of rank. That is why the imperial family must be moved to a place of safety. Outside the city.’

  Pallas shook his head. ‘Out of the question. The Emperor must remain here, to set an example to his people. To share their suffering during the present difficulties, figuratively speaking. If you leave Rome, sire, they will say that you are abandoning them to their fate. You will lose their respect, their love and their loyalty. Such a loss may take years to recover, if it ever does. As one of your closest advisers, I strongly urge you to remain in the palace, under the protection of Prefect Geta and his fine soldiers. With them at hand, I cannot believe you and your family would be in any danger.’

  Narcissus took half a step towards the Emperor. ‘Sire, I must protest.’

  ‘Enough!’ Claudius raised a hand. ‘Still your tongue, N-narcissus. I must think.’ Claudius scratched his unruly white hair. He was silent for a moment before he looked up at his wife. ‘And what do you think, my d-dear? What should I do?’

  Agrippina tripped lightly round the desk and knelt before him, taking his hands in hers. ‘My dearest husband, Pallas is right. The people look to you. You cannot flee when they need you most.’

  ‘The Emperor is not fleeing,’ Narcissus interrupted. ‘He is merely exercising prudence for the good of Rome. What would it profit the empire to put his life, and those of his family, at risk?’

  Agrippina turned and scowled at Narcissus. ‘Is it the Emperor’s life you wish to protect, or your own?’

  Cato watched as Narcissus sucked in a breath and coolly addressed his reply to the Empress. ‘I have devoted my life to the service of the Emperor, my lady. His continued safety has filled my waking thoughts. My motives are selfless.’ Narcissus paused and then gestured towards Pallas. ‘I cannot think what impulse motivates my colleague here to place the Emperor in jeopardy. Pallas, my friend, why would you so willingly undermine all that I have striven to do to make our master safe from his enemies?’

  The other imperial freedman gave Narcissus an icy glare before he responded in an even tone. ‘We are merely advisers to his imperial majesty. I consider it unseemly to offer my opinion in such a forceful manner as you do. The Emperor will make his own decision.’

  ‘Well said!’ Agrippina smiled. She turned to her husband and looked up into his face with an adoring expression. ‘It is for you to say, my dearest love. Should we stay and brave the peril that faces our people, or should we do the sensible thing, as good Narcissus suggests, and flee the city until the danger has passed?’

  Claudius looked down at her fondly and cupped her cheek in his hand. Agrippina turned her head slightly to kiss his hand and then close her lips over his finger. The Emperor’s eyes fluttered for a moment before he withdrew his hand.

  ‘I have decided. We shall st-st-stay in Rome. It is the right thing to do. At least for tonight.’

  Cato saw Narcissus’s shoulders sag a little at the words. Pallas did his best not to smirk and Geta clasped his hands behind his back, the thumb of his sword hand vigorously working the flesh of the other hand.

  ‘Fine words, my husband,’ said Agrippina as she stood up. ‘Brave words. But bravery alone will not sustain a man. You have not eaten all day. Come, you’ll need your strength. Let us eat together, in my bedchamber. I’ll send for some food. Your favourite dish perhaps?’

  ‘Mushrooms!’ Claudius grinned. ‘You are good to me, Agrippina.’

  He eased himself on to his feet and straightened his back as he faced the other men in the room. ‘I have spoken my m-mind. Let it be known that the Emperor will remain in Rome.’

  Geta, Pallas and Narcissus bowed their heads and stood aside as Claudius and his wife, hand in hand, made their way out of the study. Geta followed them out. The two imperial freedmen were the last to leave, as social protocol demanded. As the prefect of the Praetorian Guard left the room, Pallas turned to Narcissus with a look of cold amusement. ‘If I were you I’d take my own advice and get out of Rome, while you can.’

  ‘What, and leave the Emperor’s life in the hands of you and your friends?’ Narcissus spoke loudly enough for Cato and Macro to catch his remarks.

  ‘Friends?’

  ‘The Liberators. That’s who you are working for. You and Geta. What have they promised you as a reward?’

  Pallas shook his head mockingly. ‘You’re barking up the wrong tree, my friend. I have nothing to do with the Liberators. For what it’s worth, I pledge my life on that.’

  ‘Liar.’

  ‘No.’ Pallas stood in front of Narcissus and thrust his finger into his chest. ‘You will live to see the truth of it, but I would not count on living much longer than that.’ He paused and ran his eyes over the imperial secretary. ‘It has been a pleasure to have worked alongside you these past years, Narcissus. For the most
part, at least. We have served Claudius well, but no emperor lasts forever. The only issue is who will succeed Claudius. You have made your choice of who to serve, and I have made mine. Farewell, Narcissus.’ He held out his hand, but the imperial secretary did not move. Pallas shook his head sadly. ‘I would prefer that we parted as friends. It’s too bad. Goodbye.’

  Pallas turned away and strode from the room. Narcissus watched him leave, with undisguised hatred. When the sound of his rival’s footsteps had faded away, he turned to the balcony and approached Macro and Cato.

  ‘You heard?’

  Cato nodded. ‘Every word.’

  ‘They mean to murder Claudius, I am certain of it. The fool has played into their hands,’ Narcissus said bitterly. ‘That little bitch has him wrapped around her finger. Him and that bastard, Pallas. We have to act quickly.’ He stopped and looked at them with a puzzled expression. ‘How did you two come to be posted here?’

  ‘Fuscius had a duty roster,’ Macro explained. ‘Tigellinus handed it to him.’

  ‘Tigellinus?’ The imperial secretary stared at him anxiously. ‘He means to place his men as close to the Emperor as possible. Has he given you any instructions?’

  ‘He told us to be ready to act.’

  ‘That’s all?’

  Cato nodded.

  Narcissus rubbed his jaw anxiously. ‘The Liberators have men in place close to the Emperor. The prefect and some of his officers are in on the plot and they have taken control of the palace. I’d say they will act soon. Tonight perhaps. Certainly no later than noon tomorrow.’

  ‘Why then?’ asked Macro.

  ‘Because the spectacle is over. Most of the mob will remain by the lake tonight. They will set off for Rome at first light and reach the city at midday. Unless there is food here to feed them, there will be nothing to stop them venting their rage. It’s my guess that the Liberators will have taken control by then. The Emperor will be dead, and then they’ll produce all the grain that they have amassed in secret. The mob will be grateful enough to whoever feeds it.’ Narcissus looked at them with a cynical smile. ‘Once the people have been won over, the Liberators will start to remove anyone who was loyal to the previous regime. In which case, I’m as good as dead already. Me, and Britannicus.’