Together they walked towards the exit.
‘Seems to me,’ said Flaminius bitterly, ‘that there isn’t much difference between what’s happened to Probus and I—and to Junius Italicus, from what the emperor was saying—and what’s happened to the conspirators. Too harsh with us, too lenient with them.’
Marcius Turbo grinned. ‘His imperial majesty is a believer in the Golden Mean. Nothing in excess.’
Flaminius shook his head. ‘If I was emperor…’ he began.
‘Tribune,’ said the prefect gently but firmly, ‘I fear you’re on the edge of committing high treason. May I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself?’
He halted as they came out into the bright sunlight, turned to face Flaminius and saluted him. ‘Good work, tribune,’ he said approvingly.
Wearily, Flaminius returned the salute, then turned on his heel and marched away down the gravel path. He didn’t look back.
As he reached the drive to the Villa, he heard marching feet. He stepped off the roadway and waited for the Praetorians to march past, heading towards the main palace complex. At the head of the cohort was Aulus Fabricius Cotta.
As soon as the soldiers had passed, Flaminius returned to the road. Leaning against a milestone a short way down the Tiburtine Way, he found Junius Italicus, who was refreshing himself with a swig of water from his canteen. Seeing Flaminius approaching, the centurion stopped drinking, waited his tribune’s arrival, and offered him the water in silence.
Flaminius drank thirstily and gratefully. It was a hot day.
‘So it’s us for a life of bread and circuses is it, sir?’ Junius Italicus asked drily. ‘I grew up in the Subura. Joining the legions was the only option other than living on the bread dole.’ He shrugged. ‘Think I did pretty well, joining the Praetorians and all. but now it’s over.’
‘Come off it, centurion,’ Flaminius said, trying to inject some cheer into his words, ‘we’re still on the Commissary payroll.’
‘Seems we did the worst thing we could have ever done, sir,’ said the centurion; ‘embarrassed his imperial majesty.’
‘He would have been more embarrassed if we hadn’t found out the conspiracy,’ Flaminius said. ‘Embarrassed to death.’
They started walking. No horses for them on this trip. It was a long way to Rome on foot.
Epilogue
Rome, Castra Peregrina
Flaminius parted from Junius Italicus on returning to the city; the centurion had decided to look up his relatives in the Subura. The tribune reported to the Castra Peregrina where two commissary legionaries showed him to the Chief’s office.
‘You!’
Flaminius stared at Probus, who was looking up testily from a sheaf of reports.
‘What are you doing here?’ the tribune added.
Probus sat back. He signalled for the legionaries to leave. Once the sound of their marching feet had died away he turned to Flaminius with a bleak smile.
‘What am I doing here, sir,’ he corrected him.
‘Technically,’ Flaminius pointed out, ‘I outrank you.’ Probus never seemed to remember this little fact.
‘Aren’t you going to congratulate me on my promotion?’ the centurion said acidly. ‘I’ve been kicked upstairs.’
‘I got the impression you were going to be sent to rot in an outpost in the African desert,’ Flaminius said. ‘And the emperor’s promoted you?’
Probus scowled. He gestured at the desk. ‘Bah! What can I achieve sitting behind this thing?
‘Sit down,’ he added.
Flaminius sat. ‘You spent the last few days sitting behind a desk,’ he said. ‘That’s where you cracked the code. We’d never have solved this mystery without you sitting behind a desk. Except…’
‘Except?’
‘Except you said you knew who was the mastermind behind the plot,’ Flaminius said accusingly, leaning forward. ‘You said that if we learnt who the murderer was it might lead back to him. But you wouldn’t say who it was. Why not? If I’d known you suspected Ursus Servianus…’
‘If you’d known,’ Probus said testily, ‘you’d probably have arrested him straightaway, you clumsy young goat, and then your cover would have been blown. We needed proof, so I let you find it.’
‘I ran round getting into fights and being locked up while you sat round deciphering the puzzle,’ Flaminius said. ‘And now you’re complaining about sitting behind a desk! You saved the empire from behind a desk.’
‘But not this desk!’ Probus pounded it with his fist. ‘Behind this desk, my work will be no more than glorified administration! You’re lucky, tribune.’
Flaminius felt something cold trickle down his spine. ‘Why d’you say that?’ he asked.
Probus grinned. ‘I know exactly what the emperor has in store for you,’ he said. ‘There’s advantages as well as disadvantages to being in charge of the administration of this outfit, tribune.’
‘What is it?’ Flaminius said urgently.
Probus tapped his large nose. ‘That’s on a need to know basis.’
‘And I need to know,’ Flaminius complained.
‘So you shall,’ Probus said, ‘when the emperor sees fit to have you posted. For the moment, though, all I have to say is this…’
He rose to his feet and held out his hand, ‘I was quite impressed by your work, tribune. Welcome to the team.’
Unspeaking, Flaminius shook the centurion’s hand.
THE STORY CONTINUES IN ‘THE HADRIAN LEGACY.’
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gavin Chappell has been involved in writing and editing for the last decade. He has written short stories, translations, poetry, novels and non-fiction.
Also a qualified teacher of further education, Gavin taught English and Creative Writing for many years. He has been published by various publishers including Penguin, and is a member of the Society of Authors.
* * *
[1] See ‘On Hadrian’s Secret Service.’
[2] York.
[3] Just before midnight.
[4] See ‘On Hadrian’s Secret Service.’
[5] Popular Roman resort on the Bay of Naples.
[6] 69 AD.
[7] Sejanus was the emperor Tiberius’ overambitious Praetorian Prefect, who was killed and his family massacred when he overreached himself.
[8] Translation by J C Rolfe.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Clytemnestra conspired with her lover Aegisthus to murder her husband Agamemnon on the latter’s return from Troy.
[11] Consul (127 BC) and censor Lucius Cassius Longinus Ravilla.
[12] Translation by JC Rolfe.
[13] 13 April
[14] Rome’s main port; it replaced the better known Ostia.
[15] One of the three main roads within a Roman military camp, along with the Principal Way and the Decuman Way.
[16] Translation by JC Rolfe.
[17] Translation by John Dryden.
[18] 121 BC. The Gracchi were populist politicians who attempted to reform the Roman Republic in favour of the people. The Senate’s violent reaction initiated the series of conflicts that resulted ultimately in the demise of the Republic and the rise of the Caesars.
[19] See ‘On Hadrian’s Secret Service.’
[20] According to the twelve tablets of Roman law.
[21] See ‘On Hadrian’s Secret Service.’
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