The Sword and the Throne

by Henry Venmore-Rowland

  ‘The debt is paid, Alpinus,’ I said, as though he had repaid the loan of a denarius. ‘Now I want you to walk down to my camp, through my army, and let them see that justice has been done. There the surgeon will make sure you’re fit to meet the emperor.’

  The men muttered angrily, not wanting to see the traitor get away so lightly. I whispered something to the centurion as Alpinus weakly got to his feet and began to walk towards the gates; he smiled and nodded, then began to follow the traitor a few paces behind. Some of the men formed up in two lines between me and the gates, where they began to spit on the Helvetian as he walked past. I let him reach the threshold of the fort before calling out: ‘One last thing, Alpinus!’

  He turned wearily to face me, saying nothing.

  ‘Did I say that it wasn’t in my power to kill you?’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘I lied.’ The centurion swiftly grabbed Alpinus, and a second man went to help him. The spirit went out of the Helvetian in an instant. ‘You said you weren’t going to kill me,’ he cried piteously. He cursed me for promising and begged to be let go. That was his final punishment. To trick him into thinking he would live, even if it was only until he was brought before Vitellius, and then to have him killed would satisfy the men far more than the quick death he had asked for. They dragged him, kicking and screaming, until he knelt in front of me once more.

  I drew my sword slowly. Alpinus was babbling now, clutching at straws.

  ‘Caecina!’ A voice called out, shrilly.

  I looked up to see two horsemen, no, three. There was Quintus at the gateway, looking appalled at the bloodbath in the fort. On the other horse sat Salonina, and in front of her was Aulus. I could not back down now, not without losing face in front of the men.

  ‘If you don’t want to watch, cover your eyes,’ I said.

  I took a firm hold of my sword, and with a fluid, sweeping motion took Alpinus’s head off his shoulders.

  VII

  If I close my eyes I can still see Salonina. The luscious brown hair, deep blue eyes that could rage like the sea, lips that you wanted to kiss for days and nights upon end. I remember the first years we spent together vividly, though it is some two decades ago now. I had returned, a war hero from Britannia, to a son who didn’t know me and a wife I barely recognized, grown into womanhood.

  It was as though we were courting. There was a bashfulness as we tried to get to know each other, first as people and then as lovers. The first time had been not so much out of love but more in the hope of fathering a son before I went to war, to make sure the family line wasn’t extinguished. When I returned we grew to like each other, once I’d helped her to get rid of some of her plebeian habits. Over the years we became a loving couple, though of course we had the occasional falling-out, and Aulus was the joy of our lives. He still is mine today, even though he has gone over the sea. That is how I choose to remember my family; I have no family now.

  In the days after the death of Alpinus, there were times when I caught myself thinking how blissful it had been to be back in the saddle with my wife and son out of harm’s way. Aulus avoided me for days after Mount Vocetius, and Salonina explained that it was because I’d killed the traitor in front of him.

  ‘For Hades’ sake, he’s only a boy. He shouldn’t have to see things like that.’

  ‘Aulus will be a man some day, and he knows his father is a soldier. Soldiers kill people, that’s what we do!’ I shouted back.

  ‘Yes, but not in front of your own child,’ she said, exasperated.

  ‘Then why did you bring him up with you? You saw the catapults, you saw my men storm the fort. What did you expect to see once you passed the gates, a bloody picnic?’

  ‘We wanted to be with you.’

  ‘I have twenty thousand men to command, Salonina. Do you think I enjoy worrying that something may happen to the two of you on top of all that?’

  Salonina pouted. ‘Well, if we’re such a burden to you, why don’t Aulus and I go back to Mogontiacum and wait there?’

  ‘Now you’re just being ridiculous.’

  ‘Is it ridiculous? We can’t bring supplies to you, we can’t build roads, we can’t kill your enemies. What can we do here?’

  ‘You can stay here and be a proper wife to me and a good mother to our son. You must remember he’s not the little boy you raised in Rome. He’s nine years old now, and betrothed. Aulus will get over the shock soon enough.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t?’

  ‘He will. I grew up without a father or a brother, and I’ll be damned if you’re going to come between me and my only son.’

  There was a delicate knock at the door. ‘Who is it?’ I asked.

  ‘Quintus,’ the voice answered.

  ‘Caecina, we haven’t finished talking yet.’

  ‘There is nothing more to say, Salonina.’

  ‘Are you going to dismiss me like one of your soldiers?’ she asked coldly.

  I ignored her. ‘Come in, Quintus.’ The door opened a fraction, Quintus took a half-step into the room.

  ‘I can come back later,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t worry, Quintus. Salonina was just leaving.’ She shot me an exasperated look before turning on her heel and storming out.

  ‘Anything I can do to help, General?’ Quintus asked.

  I sighed. ‘No, Quintus. My wife has to learn that she hasn’t got Aulus to herself any more. She’s never liked being a soldier’s wife, I can understand that. But now that she’s with me at last, I think she’s afraid of losing Aulus to me.’

  ‘Losing him? It’s not as though he’s far from her side, is it?’

  ‘True. But then she did have Aulus to herself for nearly three years before I first set eyes on him. Maybe she just needs to get used to the idea of sharing him?’

  ‘Who knows, General? In five months’ time she might bear you another son. In the meantime, if I might suggest you don’t go too hard on her, sir? After all, pregnancy does funny things to a woman. They’ll argue over anything, given the chance!’

  ‘You’re a good friend, Quintus. Too good a friend to keep calling me “general”. In here I’m plain old Caecina.’

  ‘And I much prefer Quintus to Tribune Verres. I still get odd looks from the men, even from the ones who didn’t fight my father at Vesontio.’

  ‘That’ll stop soon enough. You lead the men well, Quintus, that’s the most important thing. Besides, there are dozens of Severi in Rome, and none of them are closer to me than second cousin. Anyway, why did you want to see me?’

  ‘You asked to see me, Caecina.’

  ‘Did I? Oh yes, now I remember. Can you get me twenty thousand pairs of socks?’

  ‘Socks?’

  ‘Yes, socks.’

  ‘Why do you want twenty thousand pairs of socks?’ he asked.

  ‘Because I’ve got a mouse problem in my tent,’ I said, rubbing my eyes tiredly. ‘For the men of course. We’re about to march through the highest mountains in the empire, not two months after the new year, and I don’t think the men will be all that happy to make the journey in just their sandals.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Woollen socks are the best, though I hear the locals use goat hair, and after all they live in these freezing mountains. I want every weaver in the province working night and day, understand?’

  * * *

  In five days we were ready to march, socks and all. After trying to organize an entire army for almost a week I had pretty much given up. Julius Agricola had a knack for logistics; I didn’t. Instead I focussed on one key strategic decision. Alpinus’s treason meant that the message we had sent to the governor of Noricum, the province to the east, had never arrived. Noricum was only a single-legion province, but who knew whether that single legion would be needed in the fight against Galba, if indeed there was a fight. Then of course there was the original plan of taking the shortest, hardest route to Italia: Mount Poeninus, or, as the locals call it, Hannibal’s Pass.

&
nbsp; I couldn’t risk Valens and his army arriving in Italia first. Galba’s armies would still be mustering near Rome, giving Valens free rein across all Italia beyond the Po. He would claim all the credit with Vitellius while I would arrive second with a smaller, exhausted army. In truth it was no choice at all. New messengers were dispatched for Noricum, and if the governor did decide to join our cause, he could march into Italia by the eastern passes and meet up with us there. If he remained loyal to Galba, then at least we hadn’t wasted time and possibly risked a battle by marching through his province. After all, I had no way of knowing how Valens’s march was progressing, and the Alpinus affair had put us over a week behind schedule. We had to make up for lost time.

  For the first few days our route was easy. We followed the wide valley south-west towards one of Raetia’s oldest towns, Lausonna. The waters of a huge lake lay still, glistening like a great sea of glass, but with the arrival of 20,000 men the shore road was soon teeming with fish and fishermen. Normally a small Raetian town would be lucky if it saw more than a handful of travellers a day. The army of the Alps, as we came to be known, was too big an opportunity to miss. As many men as we could squeeze in camped behind the walls of an old hill fort that the legions had built years ago, while the rest set up a makeshift camp on what little level ground there was by the lakeside.

  The wind howled as Salonina and I tried to sleep, the cold and the noise of the tent flapping in the gale keeping us awake. I tenderly rubbed the bump that kept Salonina from performing her wifely duties.

  ‘I have a feeling it will be a girl this time,’ she said.

  ‘How can you tell?’

  ‘I just feel it will be. I don’t know what this cold will do to the baby though, it can’t be good for her.’

  ‘Or him.’

  ‘Fine, or him.’

  ‘Don’t worry, everything is being taken care of. I’m having something special made for you.’

  Salonina wiggled her feet in girlish delight. ‘Something for me? What is it?’

  ‘You’ll have to wait till the morning.’

  ‘I hope you don’t think I’m going to forgive you just because of a nice present,’ she said playfully.

  ‘You’re not still angry with me, are you? I’ve got to lead twenty thousand men, Salonina, and over half of them barely know me. Executing that traitor shows the men that I’m on their side.’

  ‘Side? Whose side are they going to be on if not yours?’

  ‘We’ll be meeting up with Valens and his army in Italia, and his army is larger.’

  ‘Why does it always come back to Valens, Caecina? He’s not as young, as handsome or as brave as you.’

  ‘He’s a wily old fox, and I can’t have him stealing all the glory when we defeat Galba. Otherwise he’ll become Vitellius’s right-hand man and I’ll be left with nothing.’

  ‘So you’ll try to reach Italia first?’ she asked.

  I simply nodded. There was a long silence.

  ‘Caecina?’

  ‘I’m trying to sleep, Salonina!’

  ‘Imagine we do defeat Galba, and imagine you do become consul, and we become the most powerful people in Rome, after Vitellius, can you promise me one thing?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’ll let me help you. You know I could never be one of those wives who stay at home and practise their needlework all day.’

  ‘When the time comes,’ I said, ‘you will go to the estate in Vicetia, where all the men of my family have been born. Once the child is born, you’ll be at my side, I promise.’

  Salonina leaned over, her delicate perfume wafting a scent of saffron and rosehips. She pecked me on the cheek. ‘Thank you, Caecina,’ she said, before resting her head gently on my chest.

  The next morning Salonina was eager to see her present. The night before I’d had some of the carpenters take the cart that she and Aulus had been travelling in and make it more fitting for a general’s wife: they had made a roof for the cart and lined it with two large wolf pelts to keep the elements out and the heat in. Inside there was an array of cushions and rugs, and to crown it all a thick feather mattress. I had bought it all from the merchants in Lausonna the day before and had Salonina’s slaves decorate the cart as tastefully as they could. It was fit for a queen, and just as important it was barely heavier than a military wagon and practical to drag through the mountain passes.

  As she was thanking me, the smallest of frowns appeared.

  ‘But where’s Aulus going to sit?’

  ‘On his new horse, alongside me.’

  Aside from Achilles I had bought two mares in Corduba. Totavalas rode one; the smaller, more docile one was for Aulus. I had been waiting for his first growth spurt to give him the horse, and now he was tall enough and hopefully old enough to ride her. Aulus himself could only mumble his thanks, and seemed less than pleased to sacrifice the warmth of the wagon for his father’s company on the road. It was only when Totavalas joined us that he began to open up, but then the Hibernian had that effect on everyone.

  The ascent was hard, and the road narrow. The locals had been right in that the passes were open early that year, but by open they didn’t mean easy, they meant it was physically possible to cross. Little more than a fortnight earlier the passes had been blocked by snowdrifts over thirty feet deep. From Lausonna it was about ninety miles as the crow flies to Augusta Praetoria, the first town beyond Hannibal’s Pass. But we were not crows. Our road wound high into the mountain tops, along treacherous slopes, over massive glaciers. You could hear the men mumbling quiet prayers to themselves; this was the nearest they would ever come to the gods in their heavens.

  Two days out of Lausonna we left the great lake behind us and entered a deep defile. Torquatus told me that the river rushing down towards us from the south and into the lake was the Rhône. As our huge column trekked by the water’s edge, I began to think how my life since that fateful day in Corduba had been guided by two rivers: my friend Agricola’s estate by the sea, a breakneck ride towards Lugdunum and the mess that was the Vindex rebellion, then the horrors of Vesontio all within spitting distance of the Rhône. Galba had afterwards shackled me to the Rhine with the command of a legion, only for me to have my world turned upside down by the arrival of Vitellius. And now I was riding once again by the banks of the Rhône, fated to lead another rebellion against the emperor in Rome. But this time I was fighting against the man who had set me on this path. How the gods must have laughed at the turns my life was taking; at least I could draw comfort from the fact that they were showing an interest in my fate.

  We couldn’t march across the breadth of the defile, the river was too wide to cross. For now we had to stay between the mountains and the eastern bank of the Rhône. Nor could our column cover all that ground; the wagons carrying our supplies, equipment and artillery had to keep to the road at all times, meaning they had to travel in single file. The men toiled through the bitter cold, their new socks pulled up almost as far as their knees. By the time 20,000 men had tramped along the road, the white carpet had been churned into a filthy slush of compacted mud, horse shit and snow. The day that had begun with us losing sight of Lake Lausonius for good we covered perhaps twenty miles, though it was probably less. The higher we climbed, the more our rate of progress would plummet.

  On the third day I sat astride Achilles at the head of the column, eyeing out the lie of the land. The vanguard that day was one of the cohorts from the Twenty-Second, the other legion that had been encamped with mine in Mogontiacum. They were busy shovelling great chunks of snow off the road and down the steep hillside.

  ‘And to think I gave up the company of my own people for this!’ a voice came up from behind me. Totavalas and Aulus were riding my mares from Corduba. The beasts trod tentatively along the narrow path, but a warming surge of pride coursed through me when I saw how confidently Aulus was riding.

  ‘And what would you be doing back home instead of enjoying this crisp mountain air?’ I asked.

>   ‘Clinging to a cool beer and a warm woman, like any sensible man would on a winter’s day!’ The two of us laughed. Aulus looked down towards his saddle, visibly embarrassed.

  ‘Keep your chin up, son. If you’re old enough to ride one of my horses, you’re old enough to join in men’s talk.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  ‘What are the women like in Hibernia?’

  Totavalas gave a mischievous grin. ‘The finest in the world, so they are. Some are small and dark, others have flaming red hair like the morning sun, but while making love they’ll all claw at you like a wolf-bitch in heat.’

  ‘What does Julia Agricola look like?’ Aulus asked me. I racked my brains, but I couldn’t for the life of me picture the girl. ‘If she takes after her mother, she’ll be beautiful,’ was all I could think to say.

  ‘You don’t know what she looks like, do you?’ he said accusingly.

  ‘I didn’t know what your mother would be like before we were married,’ I began.

  ‘And look how well that turned out,’ my son shot back.

  ‘Aulus, you’ll marry her if you like it or not. It’s a fantastic match, and you couldn’t marry into a nicer family. Julius Agricola will be one of Rome’s great generals one day.’

  ‘But you’re Vitellius’s—’

  ‘You will call him “the emperor”, Aulus,’ I said sharply.

  ‘Fine, you’re the emperor’s right-hand man now. What can a match with Agricola offer us? He’s little better than a farmer.’

  ‘He is my closest friend, Aulus, and I’ve given my word. The matter is settled.’

  ‘While I will be a mysterious, handsome bachelor with connections to the imperial household,’ Totavalas said, lightening the mood. ‘Gods, the women of Rome will be queuing up to share my bed!’