Soldier of Rome- Reign of the Tyrants
Page 1
Soldier of Rome:
Reign of the Tyrants
The Year of the Four Emperors
Part I
James Mace
Electronic Edition Copyright © 2015 by James Mace
All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Characters and events portrayed in this book are based on actual persons and events, but are used fictitiously.
Legionary Books
Meridian, Idaho 83642, USA
http://www.legionarybooks.net
First eBook Edition: 2015
Published in the United States of America
Legionary Books
Cover Images by Radoslav Javor, copyright © 2015 by Radoslav Javor and Legionary Books
All other images are licensed through applicable copyright holders, or public domain
The Works of James Mace
The Artorian Chronicles
Soldier of Rome: The Legionary
Soldier of Rome: The Sacrovir Revolt
Soldier of Rome: Heir to Rebellion
Soldier of Rome: The Centurion
Soldier of Rome: Journey to Judea
Soldier of Rome: The Last Campaign
The Great Jewish Revolt and Year of the Four Emperors
Soldier of Rome: Rebellion in Judea
Soldier of Rome: Vespasian’s Fury
Soldier of Rome: Reign of the Tyrants
Soldier of Rome: Rise of the Flavians
Soldier of Rome: The Fall of Jerusalem
Other Roman Works
Centurion Valens and the Empress of Death
Empire Betrayed: The Fall of Sejanus
Triumph of Steel: The Battle of Caer Caradoc
Napoleonic Works
Forlorn Hope: The Storming of Badajoz
I Stood With Wellington
Courage, Marshal Ney
If this day should be your last, may you die with honor.
Table of Contents
Preface
Prolog: Rome’s Bloody Artist
Chapter I: The Last Saturnalia
Chapter II: A Whisper of Treason
Chapter III: War Master in the East
Chapter IV: No Turning Back
Chapter V: The Rebellion Grows
Chapter VI: First Blood
Chapter VII: The Artorian Legacy
Chapter VIII: Undeclared Loyalties
Chapter IX: Turning of the Guard
Chapter X: Dynasty’s End
Chapter XI: An Uncertain Beginning
Chapter XII: Galba’s Trail of Murder
Chapter XIII: The Bloody Gates of Rome
Chapter XIV: Suffering the Usurper
Chapter XV: Stalwart Allies
Chapter XVI: A New Legion
Chapter XVII: Duplicity on the Frontier
Chapter XVIII: Oath Breakers
Chapter XIX: Heirs of Betrayal
Chapter XX: Strike, if best for Rome
Chapter XXI: The Sanction of Regicide
Chapter XXII: Only One Caesar
Chapter XXIII: The Growing Crisis
Chapter XXIV: The Emperor Sends His Regards
Chapter XXV: A Question of Loyalties
Chapter XXVI: Defending the Empire
Chapter XXVII: Bloody Allegiances
Chapter XXVIII: Otho’s Maritime Folly
Chapter XXIX: Mutiny’s Punishment
Chapter XXX: A Diversionary Brawl
Chapter XXXI: Heading North
Chapter XXXII: The Price of Excess
Chapter XXXIII: Into the Heart of Danger
Chapter XXXIV: Storming the Walls
Chapter XXXV: Theater of Pain
Chapter XXXVI: Ambush at Ad Castores
Chapter XXXVII: The Emperor’s War Council
Chapter XXXVIII: First Battle of Bedriacum
Chapter XXXIX: Battle’s Judgment
Appendix A: Roman Military Ranks
Appendix B: Legion Organization
Further Reading
Illustration Credits
Preface
The year is 68 A.D., and the vast Roman Empire is in chaos. Provinces are in rebellion, while Emperor Nero struggles to maintain the remnants of his political power, as well as his last shreds of sanity. In the province of Hispania, the governor, Servius Sulpicius Galba, marches on Rome. In his despair, Nero commits suicide. Galba, the first Emperor of Rome from outside the Julio-Claudian Dynasty, is at first viewed as a liberator, yet he soon proves to be a merciless despot, alienating even those closest to him.
A member of the imperial court, and former favorite of Nero, Marcus Salvius Otho seeks to become the childless Galba’s successor. When he is snubbed for another of the new emperor’s favorites, Otho decides to take the mantle of Caesar by force. At the same time, the governor of Germania, Aulus Vitellius, is proclaimed emperor by his legions, leading Rome into civil war.
In the east, the empire’s fiercest general, Flavius Vespasian, has been embroiled in suppressing the rebellion in Judea over the last two years. With nearly one third of the entire Roman Army under his command, he wields formidable power. At first attempting to stay above the fray, and with the empire fracturing into various alliances, Rome’s most loyal soldier may soon be compelled to put an end to the Reign of the Tyrants.
Prolog: Rome’s Bloody Artist
Rome
25 July 64 A.D.
Emperor Nero
“The gods have struck Rome down with fire, so that we may rebuild her to even greater glory.” These were the words of passion, uttered time and again by Emperor Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus. It was the only possible explanation anyone could give for the unthinkable calamity that had befallen Immortal Rome.
Rome, the eternal city that ruled over a vast empire, which extended from the forest of Britannia to the barren sands of Arabia, was in ashes. For six days, the city was engulfed in flames, as if the pits of Hades had been opened, with demon-fire threatening to destroy civilization itself. Thousands had either burned to death or suffocated in the black clouds of acrid smoke. No one even knew how it started, though with most of the city’s housing consisting of wooden structures several stories tall, built practically on top of each other, it was a wonder the city had avoided disaster for so long. The pragmatics knew that the Great Fire of Rome had less to do with the gods, and more to do with the haphazard construction of the city’s poorer districts.
Emperor Nero, who was returning from a visit to the coastal district of Antium, hastened back with all possible speed once he saw the red glow over the Eternal City. By then, the inferno had spread well beyond the ability of Rome’s firefighting cohorts, known as the vigiles, to contain. The young emperor known mostly for his eccentricities and often volatile temper was, that night, transformed for a time into what he should have been, a true leader of the people. As chaos and death consumed the vast majority of Rome’s residential districts, the emperor organized firefighting efforts and ordered the gates of his private gardens to be opened, giving refuge to many who would otherwise have not been able to outrun the firestorm. Of the fourteen districts within the city, three had been completely destroyed, with seven more badly damaged. Even much of the emperor’s own palace, the Domus Transitoria, had been devastated by the flames. Rome, the city which stood for over eight hundred years and was capital of the largest empire the world had yet to see, was in ruins.
Two days after the last of the fires burned out, the despondent emperor walked through the wreckage of
one of the residential districts. Where once stood scores of flats, known as ‘insula’, along with various shops, bakeries, food stalls, and places of business and leisure, there was now nothing left but scorched timbers, billowing piles of ash, and the mournful cries of hundreds of filthy and shattered survivors.
“My poor children,” Nero whispered, a tear running down his face. The emperor was often one for the dramatic, both with his poetry and stage performances, as well as in his personal life. And yet, those three words and a simple tear showed far greater genuine sorrow than the most voracious and piteous poems he could conceive.
Only his praetorian prefect, Ofonius Tigellinus, and his aged advisor, Lucius Annaeus Seneca, accompanied him this day. Tigellinus’ peer and fellow prefect, Faenius Rufus, was left at the imperial palace, whose grounds the emperor ordered to be used to shelter as many of the homeless as possible. Much of the guard remained on the grounds to keep order, as well as prevent any violence or attempted looting. Empress Poppaea had also remained at the palace, where she offered as much aid and comfort as she was able.
“There are many within the senate who think we should abandon the capital,” Seneca said, as the praetorian prefect helped the old man over a fallen timber.
“And what would you have us do, old friend?” Nero asked, his gaze fixed on a young woman. Her face was covered in soot and streaked with tears. She sat against the blackened ruins of what had once been her house, sobbing quietly while holding the charred remains of what appeared to be a pair of young children. The emperor turned to face the senator, who had served as his mentor since well before he came to the imperial throne. “Would you tell her, while she cradles the remains of her children, that the fathers of Rome would abandon her?”
“Only four of the city’s fourteen districts remain habitable,” Seneca noted, as the three men continued on their melancholy walk.
“At least half a million people are now homeless,” Tigellinus added, “probably more. And the dead number in the tens-of-thousands. The survivors dig through the ruins, searching for their loved ones, yet given the magnitude of the destruction, many will never be found.”
“All the more reason for us not to abandon those who remain,” the emperor persisted. “Am I to tell them that their emperor, their divine father, can do nothing? Will I leave the city of marble, as once proclaimed by Augustus, a city of rubble?”
“Sire, given the circumstances, it is not for us to decide what action you should take,” Seneca spoke up. “In the aftermath of such unprecedented disaster, the people need strong leadership; an emperor who can make them believe he wields the power of a god.”
This last remark caused Nero to turn about rather quickly. It caught him off guard, yet the grin that grew upon his face told his mentor he had said exactly what the emperor needed to hear.
“You are right,” he replied calmly. “The senate cannot decide the fate of Rome. This decision is mine alone, and I say we will not abandon the people. For what right have we to rule over the greatest empire the world has ever known, if we are to forsake the very city the gods themselves gave to us over eight hundred years ago? No, my friends, we will not run like beaten cowards. We will rebuild! The gods have struck Rome down with fire, so that we may rebuild her to even greater glory.”
Nero’s decisiveness gave much reassurance to the people, as well as the senate, who were only too glad to defer to him on this matter. Two weeks after the fire, the emperor called for a meeting of the senate, where he would unveil his plans for a new Rome. Two of the senators, who walked apart from their peers, discussed with speculation and much interest the emperor’s plans. Their names were Titus Flavius Sabinus and Gaius Suetonius Paulinus.
“You, of all people, should be most intrigued by what our emperor intends to propose,” Paulinus observed.
“I admit, I was impressed by his level-headed leadership during the fire,” Sabinus replied. “It was he who organized the firefighting efforts, as well as opening the palace grounds for people to escape to. Perhaps our young emperor is finally learning what it means to be a leader.”
Sabinus, who was now in his mid-fifties, was also a former consul. And while most famous for commanding the Ninth Legion during the Invasion of Britannia, he currently served as the urban prefect and, essentially, governor of the city of Rome. This placed him in overall command of the urban fire and police force known as the vigiles. The city’s grain ration also fell under the charge of his office, and Sabinus understood all-too-well that peace or strife were dictated by whether the populace ate well or went hungry. Of even greater significance was the legal authority exercised by the urban prefect. It was he who published any new laws or decrees proposed by the emperor, and in both civil and criminal court cases, he was the ultimate appeals authority within Rome. Only the emperor could overturn a judgment passed by the urban prefect. In short, Flavius Sabinus was one of the most important and powerful people within the imperial capital.
Gaius Suetonius Paulinus was a few years younger than Sabinus, though his career had been equally eventful. During the last year of Gaius Caligula’s rather capricious reign, he’d served as praetor, one of the sixteen administrators who directly advised the emperor. A year later, after his appointment as Governor of Mauretania in North Africa, he suppressed the revolt of a local chieftain, while also being the first Roman officer to successfully lead soldiers over the treacherous Atlas Mountains. His most renowned achievements, however, came years later during his tenure as Governor-General of Britannia. He successfully expanded the empire’s borders further into the isle, though had to recall his troops after an abusive and incompetent magistrate provoked a rebellion amongst the Iceni tribe. The rebels, under Queen Boudicca, ravaged southeast Britannia, killing thousands while burning the city of Camulodunum along with the capital of Londinium. Emperor Nero had contemplated abandoning the province until he received reports that Paulinus, despite being horribly outnumbered and cornered, had won such a decisive victory that Boudicca committed suicide, and the surviving rebels were crushed. Three years later, Paulinus’ victory was still openly celebrated, in no small part to help overshadow the economic and political upheavals that still troubled the province.
“I think the emperor had potential even when he was very young,” Paulinus remarked. “He was just a boy of sixteen when the divine Claudius ascended to the gods, and named him his successor. Although, his bitch of a mother, Agrippina, became even more insufferable after her husband died.”
“So I recall,” Sabinus replied. “The news surrounding her death was rather vague. I can’t say anyone shed any tears for her. There were many within the senate, equites, and even the legions, who sent letters of congratulations to Nero, because he was finally free of her vile clutches.”
“While I am the last person who would mourn the death of Agrippina, her passing left Nero lost and completely unhinged for some time. Aside from Seneca, he has lacked good advisors and mentors. Plus, he is only twenty-six, and has rather carelessly lorded over the known world for a decade. But I will say, he does seem to be at his best during a crisis. He recognized the financial crisis the empire was in early on, what with so much coin going out of Rome’s borders and not enough resources coming in. The only reason he sent me to Britannia in the first place was to expand our borders and gain control over the mines and other resources.”
“He is indeed a strange paradox of potential greatness and dangerous eccentricities,” Sabinus continued. “Prior to the fire, the emperor spent most of his time writing awful poetry, while sneaking about the city, sicking his attack dog, Tigellinus, on any street entertainers he accused of plagiarizing his work. He had little time for the daily running of the empire. Seneca has been the only one able to keep him in line at all.”
“It is a pity that it’s taken the destruction of Rome, with so many thousands dead or displaced, for him to finally become the leader he was meant to be. Better late than never, I suppose.”
Paulinus’ feeling
s for the emperor were rather conflicted. He did owe much to Nero, including his consulships and appointment as Governor of Britannia, for which he was very grateful. However, he had also witnessed traces of the emperor’s dark side. In just one example, which he and Sabinus eluded to, it was the worst-kept secret in the entire empire that Nero had his mother murdered. And while Paulinus personally benefited from this—for he had fallen out of imperial favor due to a heated dispute with Agrippina—he still found the matter unsettling. Nero had contradicted himself numerous times, when asked about it. Some stories had it she was killed by his orders, others that she had threatened to have him murdered, only to commit suicide when found out.
Paulinus and Sabinus sat together not far from the main entrance to the senate chamber. A large table covered with a tarp stood in the center of the expansive floor. The emperor stood at the head, with both of his praetorian prefects on either side of him.
“My friends, welcome!” Nero said with enthusiasm, as the chamber gradually filled. His demeanor was one of near giddiness, and a complete contradiction to the utter desolation he’d felt just a couple of weeks prior. “We have been through much, and our beloved city was near the brink of extinction. Some say this was the punishment of the gods, but I dismiss such notions as the ravings of lunatics and madmen. No, fathers of Rome, this was not divine punishment. It was the gods’ way of ending the old world and ushering in the new; a new age for Rome. The gods tested us, like they did during the terrors of Hannibal, to see if we will allow ourselves to be beaten into submission, forfeiting our destiny of greatness. We can rise up and let both the gods and the people of Rome know that their sacrifices, wrought in fire, were not in vain. I give you now, my image of new Rome!”
He nodded to Nymphidius and Tigellinus, who pulled the tarp off the large table. Beneath was an elaborate scale model of the city. The Seven Hills, along with the Forum, the Circus Maximus, Imperial Palace, and all the temples were easily identifiable. Senators started to talk quietly amongst each other, many nodding their heads in approval. While Nero had treated most of the members with either indifference or spite over the last ten years, many hoped that Rome’s greatest crisis in a generation would finally bring out the long dormant greatness of the Julio-Claudian dynasty.