Invictus

by Simon Scarrow

  Cato saw the haunted look in the imperial freedman’s eyes. ‘And why is that?’

  ‘Because my days are numbered. While Claudius lives, I live. But when he dies, then I can expect no mercy from Pallas, or that bitch Agrippina. The first thing they will do if Nero takes the purple is indulge in a little score-settling. I will be one of the first to get a visit from the Praetorian death squads.’

  ‘What goes round, comes round,’ said Macro. ‘You’ve sent enough men to their deaths in your time, Narcissus. Don’t expect any sympathy from me.’

  The freedman glared back. ‘I don’t ask, or expect, sympathy. The Gods know I have enough blood on my hands. And it’s not just men who have been sent to their deaths on my orders, but women and children too. I considered it necessary at the time, and that’s good enough for me. Now my death is going to be the price I pay for the part I played in keeping Rome safe from those who would harm her.’

  Macro laughed. ‘By the Gods, you are full of yourself, aren’t you?’

  ‘Think what you like about me, Macro, but at least Cato here has the intelligence to see that what I do is for the good of Rome.’ Narcissus turned his watery eyes to Cato. ‘Is that not so?’

  Cato sat still and silent, conscious that he was being closely watched by the other men. At length Narcissus sighed and ran his bony fingers through his thinning hair. ‘The question is, what will happen after I have been disposed of? There is little doubt that Pallas will fill my shoes and be the real power behind Nero. My fear is that his ultimate motives are somewhat less altruistic than mine, and the interests of Rome will suffer as a consequence. I readily admit that Nero has the makings of a decent ruler. He is intelligent, charming and has the common touch. But he is also vain and too willing to accept flattery at face value. Pallas will be able to control him like a puppet, or use his hold over Agrippina to pull the strings for him.’ Narcissus stared out of his window again, his face etched with worry. ‘I fear for Rome . . .’

  Then he turned away abruptly and resumed his place behind the desk. ‘Which is why it is important that I do what I can to protect you two.’

  ‘Us?’ Macro chuckled. ‘Don’t worry about us. We can look after ourselves. We’ve survived more danger than most.’

  ‘Undoubtedly. But it is the danger you don’t see that will kill you. Look here, Macro, Cato, I know you have both served Rome well, and me unwillingly. I know that you understand what your duty is. There are many other good men like you. Good men are going to be needed more than ever in the days to come. That is why it is important that you survive when they come for me, and all those closely associated with me. That’s the reason I saw to it that you were posted to Britannia. Now you are back here, in this nest of vipers, and you are in danger again. So listen to what I have to say.’

  He leaned forward across the desk and lowered his voice, as if there was some danger they might be overheard. Force of habit in the world in which the imperial secretary lived, Cato reasoned.

  ‘I have persuaded the Emperor to decorate you both for your services in Britannia. Specifically for the part you played in the defeat and capture of Caratacus. We are shortly due to have an audience with the Emperor, where you will give an account of the recent campaign and conditions in the new province. I would suggest that you don’t paint too bleak a picture. Say that conditions are hard, but the legions are meeting the challenges. The outcome is never in doubt – that kind of thing. Then play up your role in crushing Caratacus. After that, Claudius will announce your rewards and assign you a prominent place in the public celebration of our victory over the enemy. Rome loves its heroes and that should provide you with one line of defence against Pallas. But there’s something more you need to do.’

  Cato felt a familiar weariness at the imperial secretary’s words as they heralded the coercion of Macro and himself into yet another of Narcissus’ schemes.

  ‘As soon as the celebrations are over, it would be wise of you to deny any connection to me.’

  Macro nodded. ‘Done!’

  Cato shot his friend a frown and then turned back to Narcissus. ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s obvious. You need to save your skins. It has to be clear that you no longer serve my needs. That relations are hostile between us and that you would be happy to see an end to me and my scheming. Pallas will need to think that you have turned your backs on me. Better still, if he offers you his patronage, then take it. Work with him. Earn his confidence and trust and you will be better placed to learn his weaknesses and be ready to do him down when the time comes for him to fall from grace. And it will come for him, as it has come for me. But hopefully before he does too much damage to Rome,’ Narcissus concluded. He scrutinised them closely. ‘But you can only do that if you survive. Do you understand?’

  Cato nodded, while Macro sighed wearily.

  ‘Do you have a problem with living, Centurion?’

  ‘No. I like life well enough. It’s all this cloak and dagger bollocks that I have a problem with. I always have.’

  ‘Which is precisely why you would do well to hide your feelings and let Prefect Cato make the decisions. You are a brave man, with an admirable capacity for dishing out violence. But I’d advise you to know, and accept, your limits.’

  They were interrupted by the notes of a trumpet sounding the hour and Narcissus sat erect and adopted a more formal tone. ‘It’s time for us to attend the Emperor’s morning council. There’s some business about an uprising in Hispania that needs attention first, but after that you will have the chance to report on the campaign in Britannia. Stick to the line I suggested, and everything will be fine. We need to go soon. But first, I need a word with Cato. Alone.’

  Cato’s brow creased. ‘Alone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I will not have anything hidden from Macro. What is it?’

  ‘Something of a personal nature. It does not concern Macro. Trust me.’

  Cato shook his head. ‘Trust is not a commodity we have had reason to trade in as far as you go.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I think it would be best if what I have to say is for your ears only.’

  Macro slapped his hand on his thigh. ‘No skin off my nose, lad. Frankly I’ve heard all I want to hear from him. I’ll wait outside.’

  Before Cato could respond, Macro rose to his feet and strode towards the door. When he had shut it behind him, Cato stared back at the imperial secretary, hurt on his friend’s behalf. ‘What is it? What can be so personal that my best friend cannot hear of it?’

  Narcissus closed his eyes for a moment. ‘It concerns your wife.’

  ‘Julia?’ Cato felt his heart lurch. ‘What about her?’

  Narcissus made a sympathetic expression and reached to touch the younger man’s shoulder but hesitated a moment and withdrew his hand. ‘There’s no painless way to say what I need to, but please trust that what I am about to tell you is for your own good.’

  Cato felt a surge of anger. ‘Just spit it out and be done with it. What about my wife?’

  Narcissus retreated to his desk and sat down behind it, so that there would at least be some kind of obstacle between him and Cato. ‘In the days to come you will start to discover something of your wife’s . . . activities during your absence. I know that you and she were very close and that you were only married for the briefest of periods before you were ordered to take up your command in Britannia. I am certain that she loved you until the end. Her death was a tragedy of course, and—’

  Cato leaned forward, his eyes wide and his expression intense. ‘What are you saying about Julia?’

  ‘She is – was – human. All of us have our needs, Cato. I am sure that you don’t need me to draw you a picture. You had gone off to war, and there was a good chance that you would be away for many years, possibly never to return. Julia was flesh and blood. No doubt she felt alone from ti
me to time. Who knows? But can you blame her for seeking solace in someone else’s arms?’

  The words struck Cato like a hammer blow to his heart and mind, and a wave of nausea rushed up from the very pit of his stomach.

  ‘No . . . It’s a lie.’

  ‘I know that’s what you want to believe. I wish that it wasn’t true, with all my heart.’

  ‘You haven’t got a heart, you bloody bastard! I don’t believe you.’ Cato slapped his hands down on the desk and Narcissus recoiled instinctively, but kept a composed expression.

  ‘I didn’t expect you to believe me. But nonetheless it is true.’

  ‘No.’

  Narcissus began to speak, then eased himself back into his chair and folded his hands patiently. Cato’s mind was in turmoil, refusing to believe, but needing to hear more, to understand.

  ‘How do you know this?’ Cato demanded. ‘How?’

  ‘It is my business to know. I had her watched.’

  Cato shook his head. ‘How could she possibly have been of any interest to you? She was never a threat to anyone. So why spy on her?’

  ‘I wasn’t spying on her. It was her father I had under observation. Senator Sempronius may not be a very wealthy man, but he has influence in the Senate. He is the kind of man others listen to, and therefore precisely the kind of man I would be a fool to ignore.’

  ‘What has that got to do with my wife?’

  ‘Nothing. Except that she was seen leaving the senator’s house in the company of another man who is of interest to me. They were followed back to the house on the Quirinal where the man was seen to enter the house and emerge the following morning.’

  Cato flinched away from the only conclusion he could draw from the freedman’s account. He felt anger twisted with despair and hate constrict his chest and his breath came in shallow gasps. How could she? How could this be true? How could she do this to him? How could she betray him? He placed a palm against his forehead and closed his eyes to try and shut it out. But there, in his mind’s eye, he saw Julia and this stranger entering the same hall he had entered for the first time the previous night. He imagined them entering the bedchamber. Julia turning to the man, then embracing him, kissing him and then . . . He thrust the image from his mind and snapped his eyes open.

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘It doesn’t concern you, Cato.’

  ‘Doesn’t concern me? A man fucks my wife and you say it doesn’t concern me? I say it does. Now tell me his name, before I have to make you cough it up, you oily little bastard.’

  Cato made to move round the table and Narcissus held out his hand. ‘Stop! If I told you his name then you’d only try something foolish. Even if you were able to get close enough to strike at him, then the retribution would not only fall on you, but on your son and associates too. Lucius, Macro and Senator Sempronius. Would you have their blood on your hands as well, Cato?’

  ‘It’s not true,’ he muttered. ‘It’s a lie. All of it.’

  ‘Believe me, I wish it was not so, Cato. It is not an easy thing for a man to hear.’

  Cato looked up with a bleak expression. ‘Then why tell me?’

  ‘You would have discovered the truth sooner or later. Better you hear it all from me than from scraps you pick up from others. I would imagine that you would rather not have men laugh at you behind your back.’

  Cato had to bite back on his anger even as he clenched his teeth. He wanted to lash out, strike at something, but he knew it would serve no purpose. It would not take away the hurt and the sudden shocking stab of hatred he felt for Julia.

  ‘Cato,’ said Narcissus, ‘you must pull yourself together. You have an audience with the Emperor soon. You must be composed, no matter what has happened. Do you understand? You must put this out of your mind. For your sake, and Macro’s too. We must go now.’ Narcissus rose from behind the desk and made for the door.

  Cato stood still, dazed by what he had heard. What remained of his world after he had heard of Julia’s death was now reduced to ruin. Yet he knew that he must go on. For the sake of his son and his best friend, whatever had happened. He could think about Julia later, when he was on his own.

  ‘Ready?’ Narcissus cocked an eyebrow, but did not wait for a reply as he lifted the latch and opened the door. Macro was leaning against the wall of the corridor a short distance away and he now strode towards them with a rueful grin.

  ‘Time to go and face the Emperor then?’

  Narcissus nodded.

  The centurion turned to Cato. ‘Ready for this, sir?’

  Cato took a deep breath, conscious that he was being scrutinised by the others, and nodded. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  The high-ceilinged audience chamber was crowded by the time they were searched by one of the German mercenaries who served as the Emperor’s bodyguard. Like many of his kind, the mercenary was tall and broad and wore his hair and beard long. His command of Latin was rudimentary and heavily accented and Macro instantly took a dislike to him.

  ‘Look, mate, I’ve sent more than a few of you bastards into the afterlife. So keep your bloody paws to yourself, eh?’

  ‘Ha,’ the German grunted. ‘And I kill many Romans before I do this.’

  ‘Really? Fancy trying your hand against me, once you get off duty?’

  ‘Macro,’ Cato intervened softly. ‘Enough.’

  They followed Narcissus down the side of the chamber, behind the ranks of senators, officials and petitioners, and took their place a short distance from the dais where Emperor Claudius presided from the comfort of his purple-cushioned throne. Like Narcissus, the Emperor had aged considerably since the last time Cato had seen him, and sat head stooped forward and cocked slightly as he struggled to hear what was being said. On either side of him, in smaller chairs, sat the Empress, Agrippina, her son, Nero, and the younger Britannicus. Behind them stood Pallas and several other imperial freedmen, some making notes on waxed slates as they made a record of the event. Four more German mercenaries stood at ease on each corner of the dais, hands resting on the pommels of their long swords as they scrutinised those in the chamber, watching for any sign of danger.

  There was an open space in front of the imperial party and a young tribune was addressing the Emperor. He was clearly nervous and Cato saw the gleam of sweat on his brow, beneath the neatly oiled ringlets of his fringe. ‘His excellency, the Governor of Hispania Terraconensis, instructed me to assure you that the uprising is being contained and that the rebel leader, Iskerbeles, and his followers will be caught and crushed before the year is out. While he has adequate forces at Asturica Augusta to contain the problem he requests reinforcements to ensure the earliest resolution of the situation.’

  Claudius nodded vacantly as Pallas took a step forward to respond to the tribune. ‘How many men does the governor request?’

  The tribune took a sharp breath and tried to reply calmly. ‘He says an extra legion should suffice . . . If you could make the Third Legion available.’

  There was a brief muttering from the crowd before Claudius beckoned to Pallas and they conducted a short exchange as the muttering died away, save for the distant hubbub from the Forum that carried through the windows set close to the ceiling. Pallas stood up and turned his attention to the tribune.

  ‘An entire legion, you say?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘To put down a handful of villagers?’

  The tribune’s expression flickered for an instant. ‘The rebels are ranging over a wide area of difficult terrain. We cannot guard every town, every villa and every mine and at the same time send forces out to corner them and bring them to battle. That is why the governor needs reinforcements. He is confident that with enough men he can bring the uprising to an end.’

  Pallas sneered. ‘Given enough men, I should th
ink anything is possible, Tribune.’

  The Emperor stirred, as if from a nap, and blinked. ‘Can’t we give him the l–legion, if he needs it, P–P–Pallas?’

  The freedman bent to his master’s ear. ‘Sire, the Third Legion is needed elsewhere in Spain. If we send it to Asturica Augusta then we will have to thin out the garrisons across the rest of Hispania. It’s too much of a risk.’

  ‘Oh . . .’ Claudius nodded vaguely. ‘Very well, I s–suppose.’

  Cato saw a figure emerge from the crowd, corpulent with fleshy jowls and a fringe of grey hair around his bald head. The man bowed deeply towards the Emperor before he spoke.

  ‘Sire, if I may interject a few words?’

  Claudius flipped his hand in assent. ‘As you will, Senator Lucius Annaeus S–S–Seneca.’

  Seneca turned his dark eyes towards Pallas. ‘I think we should heed the advice of the governor of the province. After all, he is there, dealing with the threat, while we are far away and have no knowledge of the precise circumstances of the situation. If he deems it necessary to request the assistance of the Third Legion, then we should respect his judgement.’

  Pallas took a step forward to ensure that all would have an unobstructed view of him and hear his words. ‘Your point of view would have something to do with the fact that you have extensive landholdings in the region, not to mention shares in many of the silver mines, I take it.’

  ‘That is true, freedman,’ Seneca replied, lacing the final word with contempt. ‘But then so do many other senators, and even the Emperor himself. It is for the sake of his interests that I intervene on the side of the governor in this matter. If we lose control of the mines then the rebels will have access to enough silver to recruit many more tribes to their cause. And let us not forget, it is the same silver that pays the legionaries and auxiliaries who garrison Hispania. I need not remind you, nor his imperial majesty, that the loyalty of our brave legions is bought, not freely given. We only have to look back a few years to Legate Scribonianus’ attempt to overthrow the Emperor to see the proof of that. It was only because his legions were bribed from under him that his coup failed. I do not think we can afford to be too sanguine about the governor’s chances of crushing the uprising with the limited troops he has presently at his disposal.’ Seneca paused to let his words sink in. Then he took a half step towards the dais and lowered his voice and continued in a more pleading tone. ‘Sire, I beseech you, do not take any risks. Send the Third Legion in to decide the issue. The sooner order is restored, the sooner the flow of silver can resume.’