The Sword and the Throne

by Henry Venmore-Rowland

  There was an empty seat reserved for me at Salonina’s side and I slumped into it noisily, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the ladies and a few irritated looks. I tried to listen to the poet and discover if he was reciting a well-known work or something that he had composed himself. After a few minutes I still couldn’t tell.

  ‘What is this blather?’

  ‘This is Polycrites, Athens’s finest poet for a generation. We’ve paid good money to hear him.’

  ‘You mean I’ve paid good money,’ I said darkly.

  ‘Call it an investment, Caecina. These women are all married to powerful men in the Senate, useful friends to have, don’t you think?’

  ‘Very well. How much longer are they going to be here for?’

  ‘Perhaps another hour.’

  ‘An hour?’ I said loudly. The women looked round, and Salonina flashed her eyes warningly.

  After a quarter of an hour of tedious poetry I was in desperate need of another drink. I called for a slave to bring me some wine, prompting more dirty looks and even a shush or two.

  Slowly, angrily, I got up. ‘I will not be shushed in my own home.’

  The poet stopped, looking quizzically at Salonina, who was hiding her face in her hands.

  ‘This is my house, my home, and I’ll do what I like in it.’ There was a quiet forcefulness in my voice. ‘If you don’t like it, you know what you can do.’

  The women exchanged a few nervous glances, then began to file out. Salonina didn’t move. The slave brought me my wine as I watched the ladies soothe and praise the Greek, muttering that some people just didn’t have a taste for real art or some such bilge.

  It was only when the last of them went that Salonina spoke. ‘I hope you’re proud of yourself.’

  ‘In actual fact I am.’

  ‘Do you know how long it took me to get those women to accept me as one of them?’

  ‘That’s because they see you for what you are. You’re a tradesman’s daughter playing at being a lady.’

  ‘Is that so?’ she said, her nostrils flaring.

  ‘I’m sorry, but it’s true. If you didn’t go out of your way to impress those women, they’d accept you for who you are. Then you’d have some real friends, not just hangers-on who only suffer your bloody poetry sessions because you’re the consul’s wife!’

  ‘So now I’m just the consul’s wife?’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘I’m just some pretty thing you wheel out to entertain your colleagues and plough into so that she can give you children, is that it?’

  ‘Now you’re just being ridiculous,’ I said, taking a gulp of wine.

  Salonina’s face was red with anger. ‘Am I? Thanks to me, Valens can’t even get a look-in to any social event in the city. The only power he has is with the army. You have soldiers of your own, a healthy son who respects you and a wife who slaves away to win you powerful friends in the Senate, and what thanks do I get?’

  ‘A palace, a bigger wardrobe than Cleopatra ever had and the privilege of being wife to the first man in Rome, not counting our beloved, bloated emperor. You can even arrange your dream marriage for Aulus, now I’ve had to sacrifice my friends for your ambition.’

  ‘My ambition! You’re going to stand there and say you didn’t want all this? This is our victory.’

  I flung down the cup, which shattered on the floor, silencing Salonina. ‘Not if I’d known what it would cost!’ I roared. ‘I’ve watched good men die, Salonina, and for what? Good men who didn’t know they were fighting for a lost cause, and men who fought for something they didn’t believe in. They did it for me, and now I’m here, Rome kissing my feet. My friends are dead or they don’t want to know me, I’ve a son who’s scared of me, a wife who loves privilege more than she loves me, and I have to battle every day to keep what I’ve built from crashing down. Where’s the victory in that?’

  I stood there, my chest heaving. Salonina stood her ground, saying nothing. All I could think to do was to get out of there. ‘Fine then, enjoy your spoils, keep your palace. I’m going home,’ I said, turning round and marching towards the door.

  ‘Caecina, be reasonable. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you, for us!’ Salonina called after me. But I was too angry to listen. She was right of course, but I didn’t think that at the time. I just wanted to be alone with my anger. I slammed the door behind me and stormed into the night.

  Of course it was only when I was outside my old family home that I remembered I had rented it out to the people from whom we’d commandeered the villa, so at midnight I found myself heading once again to the Golden Palace. There were over a dozen bedrooms to spare, and I worked off my anger on the poor slave girl whose role it was to entertain the room’s guest.

  The next morning I found Vitellius having a late breakfast of oysters and prawns, caught less than a day ago by the fishermen of Baiae and Pompeii, then carted north in amphorae of sea water so that they could be cooked in the kitchens and served as freshly as if the emperor had haggled with the fishermen himself. In between mouthfuls he was poring over some papers that Valens held in front of him.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you today, Severus,’ the emperor said. ‘It’s Valens’s turn to give me my morning brief.’

  ‘I understand he made use of one of the palace rooms last night, sire,’ Valens informed him, a smug smile on his face. ‘Fancied a little entertainment, did we?’

  ‘My private life is none of your concern,’ I said loftily.

  ‘Surely the emperor has a right to know who’s staying in his home,’ he countered.

  ‘Calm down, boys,’ Vitellius said affectionately. ‘Come and have a look at these plans Valens has drawn up.’

  I came over and stood behind Vitellius’s shoulder. It was a plan of the Circus Maximus, with sketches of the four teams and notes scrawled underneath them.

  ‘It’s a simple enough idea, but Rome won’t have seen anything like it. Chariot races, but without horses.’

  ‘Isn’t that fantastic, Severus?’ Vitellius said, his eyes never leaving the plans.

  ‘Lions, camels, tigers,’ I read aloud, ‘and what are the last ones? Rhinoceroi?’

  ‘It’s what the Greeks call them, it means horned nose. They’re huge beasts, like oxen but with a thick black hide and two horns on their snout. Rhinoceroses in Latin.’

  ‘Where on earth did you find them?’

  ‘A trader from Africa had a pair of them. Apparently there’s a country south of the great desert where the creatures live.’

  ‘Is this the same land where the men have their eyes and nose on their chest?’ I asked scathingly.

  ‘Yes, the Blemmyes,’ Vitellius said enthusiastically. ‘I heard men talk about them when I was stationed in Africa. Do you think we could send an expedition across the desert one day?’

  ‘It would be very hard, and very expensive, sire,’ I said.

  ‘And why should a trifling matter like expense stop the emperor of Rome from achieving his dreams?’ Valens asked me.

  ‘He’s right, Severus. It was only thanks to the persuasion of you and your men that I allowed myself to become emperor in the first place. Now that I’m here I’m going to enjoy myself.’

  ‘Of course you should, sire. If you leave it with me, I’ll start preparations for an expedition right away.’

  ‘Thank you, Valens. You know, Severus, you could learn a thing or two from your fellow consul. Stop fretting about money, enjoy yourself! Have an oyster.’

  ‘No thank you, sire. If you don’t mind, Valens and I need to have a brief talk.’

  ‘Anything I could help you with?’

  ‘If you’d like to, sire,’ I said. ‘It’s about tax evasion in Illyria.’

  ‘On second thoughts, I’ll leave you two to it.’

  * * *

  Valens waited until we were in his office and his secretary was out of earshot. ‘What’s all this guff about tax evasion then?’

  ‘Nothing, I just didn’t want to involve V
itellius in our little discussion.’

  ‘Fine, what’s so important that you want to talk to me alone? Want my advice on how to patch it up with your wife?’

  ‘Leave my wife out of it,’ I snapped. Valens smiled at the reaction he’d provoked.

  ‘Touchy this morning, aren’t we? So if it’s not the shambles that is your love life, what is it?’

  ‘Are you seriously going to waste hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of denarii on a junket across the desert, to a land no Roman has ever seen, just so that Vitellius can have a look at some oxen with horns on their snout rather than their head?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  I was confused. ‘But you just promised Vitellius—’

  ‘To keep him sweet, yes. Like this fad of his with chariot racing, except that will actually happen. Don’t you understand? I keep Vitellius happy, and in return he gives me what I want.’

  ‘What do you want that you haven’t already got?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t know yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something. At the moment, I’ll settle for more money than I know what to do with.’

  ‘And all the while I’m trying to sort out the mess at the treasury, what with Nero’s debts, and Otho’s, and at the same time having to pay the army?’

  ‘You can do that if you like, but you’ll get no thanks from Vitellius for it. Like he said, you could learn a thing or two from me. Now if you’ll excuse me, my man Priscus wants to see me about a pay rise for the new batch of praetorians we’re recruiting.’ He took a scroll and his copy of the imperial seal then left me, alone and in his office.

  He was right, of course. I had been naive to think that Vitellius would reward me for trying to get a grip on the empire’s spiralling debts, a problem that would only worsen with his outlandish and fanciful whims. I looked down dejectedly, and my eye fell on the pile of papers sitting on Valens’s desk. Even upside down I could make out the letters at the top of some sort of list: PG applicants. PG… Praetorian Guard, it had to be. Why had Valens not told me he was shortlisting men for the new praetorian vacancies? Then the reason dawned on me. Hastily I grabbed the pile and headed out into the corridor.

  I was heading towards my own office when a voice called behind me: ‘Consul?’

  It was Valens’s secretary, yet another Greek, middle-aged and sporting an immaculately trimmed beard. An effete little man. ‘Yes?’ I held the pile close to my chest, hoping the man was too far away to recognize the pages.

  ‘Did Consul Valens say where he was going?’

  ‘He was going to speak to the praetorian prefect over at their barracks. If you run you might catch him before he leaves the palace.’

  The Greek rolled his eyes at the thought of running. ‘Thank you, sir,’ he said, before swiftly about-turning and jogging off after his master. Relief washed over me, and I forced myself to walk slowly to my own office. A consul carrying paperwork does not run in palace corridors.

  Totavalas was perched on the corner of Demetrios’s desk and the two of them were in a deep discussion when I came in. ‘What are you doing here?’ the Hibernian asked.

  ‘Well hello to you too,’ I said. ‘Ink at the ready, men, there’s work to do.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be at home?’ Totavalas asked, quickly adding the word ‘sir’ when he remembered that we weren’t alone.

  ‘Not when I’ve got the most important papers in all Rome here in my arms,’ I replied. ‘This is a list of all the men from the Rhine legions who’ve applied to join the Praetorian Guard. And the three of us are going to pick just the right men for the job.’

  * * *

  Later that day Vitellius was attending the theatre, and as I had no plans to go home he had asked Valens and me to join him. I was surprised that Valens had agreed, not being a natural theatre-goer, but Vitellius explained to me as he languidly signed some official papers during the interval that the man was trying to smooth away the rough edges of his reputation in the hope of finding himself a beautiful wife.

  ‘Beauty isn’t everything,’ I remarked bitterly.

  ‘Very true,’ Vitellius agreed. ‘I mean to say, if I weren’t married, and if I weren’t emperor, what right-thinking girl would choose to marry a man like me?’

  ‘Sire, you are a man of style and substance. The lady Galeria is very fortunate in you.’

  Vitellius smiled. ‘Style and substance, eh? I like that. Do you mind if I use that line myself?’

  ‘I would be honoured, sire.’

  The actors were coming back on to the stage. It was some hammed-up tragedy, something about a Greek king killing his father and marrying his mother, I think, and out of boredom I found myself looking around the audience for faces I knew. A pair of eyes met mine. They were green eyes, green with the faintest hint of blue. The eyelids batted once, twice, and I thought I saw the ghost of a smile on that beautiful face. My heart convulsed. In years gone by I would have given anything for a batted eyelid from that woman, but since my marriage I had learned to bury my feelings for her. I had buried them so deep I’d forgotten I had them. Domitia was as beautiful as she’d ever been, and it was only when Vitellius tugged my sleeve that I was woken from my reverie.

  ‘Severus, are you listening to me?’

  I was back in the imperial box, mind and body, and Vitellius was looking at me earnestly.

  ‘Sire?’

  ‘I was saying that, what with the new men we’ve appointed to the Senate, and now that you and Valens have been made consuls, one of the praetors won’t be able to take a province next year. I mean, there are only so many imperial provinces to go around. Unless you or Valens wants to forfeit that right? Who do you think it should be?’

  ‘Julius Agricola is not a friend of yours, sire,’ I said.

  ‘Really? I heard he was on the wrong side at Bedriacum, but I’m told he’s a very efficient man.’

  ‘He is, but he hasn’t earned the right to govern a province in your name.’

  ‘If you say so, Severus.’

  I wasn’t listening any more. I was watching the beautiful woman and thinking of what might have been.

  XXI

  The preparations for the horseless chariot races were well under way. Vitellius never needed an excuse to go and watch his beloved Blues at the circus, but ostensibly the exotic occasion was to celebrate the unity of the empire, reinforced by the arrival of the detachments from its most far-flung province: Britannia. Three thousand men, a thousand from each legion, had marched half the length of Gaul with Vitellius while the rest of the army was doing the actual fighting against Otho. When the news of Bedriacum reached him, the emperor had ridden over the Alps to join us, leaving the legionaries to march the rest of the way alone. The logic was that after being posted in the far north of the world, few if any of the men would ever have seen a camel or a tiger, let alone one of those rhinoceros creatures.

  The new arrivals would cause something of a headache though, as we had nowhere to put them. Already a part of the army, those that overflowed the temporary camp we had built on the Field of Mars, had been billeted with civilians in the city. One bit of good news though was that we would soon be able to transfer some men into the praetorian camp, outside the Colline Gate. Valens was furious when he found out I’d taken his precious list.

  ‘What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?’ he had shouted, storming into my office. Demetrios had scuttled off, leaving Totavalas and me to face the man’s fury.

  ‘I’m not playing at anything,’ I said coolly.

  ‘Don’t get smart with me. You swiped the praetorian list from off my desk and chose thousands of your own men over mine.’

  ‘That’s a bit rich considering you were going to do exactly the same thing if I hadn’t found those papers. Besides, if you check the list, of the eight thousand places that need to be filled I think you’ll find that there are just as many men from your province as there are from mine.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Give him the fig
ures,’ I told Totavalas.

  ‘Eight thousand men,’ the Hibernian explained, ‘two thousand from your legions in Lower Germania, two thousand from Upper Germania, half of Pansa’s legion from Raetia, and the other two thousand from the detachments from Britannia. Nice and even, at least that’s what we thought.’

  ‘Don’t give me even. Pansa’s men marched with you, they’re loyal to you, not me.’

  ‘Their loyalty is to the emperor, not to you or me, Valens,’ I reminded him, enjoying the sight of my rival squirming with anger.

  ‘I’ll talk to Vitellius about this.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Why should he object that his guards are evenly recruited from four different provinces? You can ask him if you like, but he’s already signed and sealed my recommendations.’

  Valens said nothing, simply turning a shade of puce and slamming the door behind him.

  ‘Wait till he hears that I’m something of a hero among the legions from Britannia,’ I told Totavalas gleefully.

  The Britannian detachments were given a muted reception from the citizens. They had had to put up and indeed put up with thousands of soldiers being billeted within the city walls. Not just the legionaries, but all the Germans, Gauls, Britons, Lusitanians and Africans had to be housed too, and it didn’t go down well with their new landlords, men and women who had been born and raised in Rome. All would be forgiven, however, when the day of the chariot race arrived.

  Salonina and I were still not reconciled, and I saw very little of Aulus. With a few days’ notice I evicted the rich couple from my family home and began to live there. I spent long days at the Golden Palace, trying to bury myself in work. Some days I even enjoyed the tedium of the Senate, simply because it added variety to my day. All the while Vitellius threw lavish parties that Valens and I had begun to tire of, but it was only so often we could refuse an invitation from the emperor.

  On a particularly sweltering summer evening Demetrios brought me a note. The message was scrawled hastily in spidery handwriting: ‘Meet me at the Argosy docks in the Aventine at sunset. Wear a hooded cloak and dress down. T.’