by Peake, R. W.
Seeing that Octavian was not going to speak again until I offered my opinion, I took a swallow of wine, then said, “I understand what you're saying, Caesar, but are you prepared for the reaction you're going to get? The men will feel betrayed; there's no other word for it. We've all grown up under the current system, and many of the men have fathers, brothers, cousins, and friends who received land for marching under the standard. Not to mention the number of men who grew up on farms that were their homes precisely because of their father’s service to Rome.” I shook my head. “I'm sorry, Caesar, but I see that you'll have your hands full.”
“Be that as it may, there is no choice, and the men will obey,” he said tightly, and I gave him a long look, wondering if he was going to live up to his promise. His eyes met mine; he let out a long breath, then gave a chuckle. “But that's not your doing, and I shouldn't hold it against you for telling me the truth. I know that what you're saying is true. We'll continue to pay out a discharge bonus; that won't change. And if possible, I plan on increasing the amount from what it is today so that the men can buy land if they so choose. That way, whoever owns the land will be compensated and we won't have to perform evictions.”
Seeing that his mind was made up on this subject, I simply gave a nod, which he took to be agreement, although I still had my doubts. For the next several moments, we concentrated on our meal, eating in silence, both clearly absorbed in our own thoughts.
Then Octavian seemed to be ready to move on to the next topic. “Another reform I'm making is to reduce the size of the army. Once things are settled with Cleopatra, of course.”
That surprised me, but not for the reason of the reduction of the army.
“Cleopatra? What about Antonius? Surely he has to be dealt with as well.”
Octavian said nothing for a long moment, as if considering his next words carefully. “I'm not at war with Marcus Antonius,” he said finally, and it was all I could do to keep the mouthful of wine from spewing all over him as I gaped in astonishment. Ignoring me, he continued, “I made a vow to Jupiter Optimus Maximus that I wouldn't war against a fellow Roman, and I intend to keep that vow. I'm at war with Cleopatra, not Antonius.”
“But how can we fight Cleopatra without fighting Antonius?”
“Precisely,” he answered, his face giving away nothing.
I understood what he was saying, but frankly, that was another fine point where the people of my class, and I suspect a lot of the upper classes as well, would not see the distinction. Nevertheless, I decided not to press the point.
Seeing that I was not going to pursue this, he continued. “I haven't completely decided on how many Legions are going to be kept under the standard, but it will be less than half of the current number. The army is the biggest drain on the Treasury, and Rome will never recover until we cut it down to size.”
Again, I understood the logic, yet I was unclear on how it was going to be accomplished. “If you're having trouble finding money to pay the Legions that are retiring, how in Hades are you going to find the money to pay all those men? I realize that you're not going to pay men who haven't served the full 16 years their entire bonus, but it's still a huge sum of money.”
“Egypt,” he said, popping an olive into his mouth.
He seemed convinced that this was a simple answer, but I was not. “I know Egypt is extremely wealthy, but how can you be sure that there’s enough money there? And Caesar, remember, I was with the 6th in Alexandria and I know that the location of Egypt’s treasury is probably the most closely guarded secret in the world. Even if the money is there, how can you be sure you can find it?”
Octavian leaned back on the couch, giving me a smile that could only be described as smug.
He seemed to be considering something, then said, “Pullus, I'm going to tell you something, and it's as much of a secret as the location of Egypt’s wealth. I don’t need to tell you how important it is that this remains secret, do I? I'm willing to trust you because my father trusted you, and he spoke very highly of you.”
The threat was unspoken, but that made it no less clear. For a moment I was tempted to say that I did not want to hear another secret, that I was tired of them, yet I knew that would be just as dangerous as betraying the confidence.
“No, Caesar, you don't need to tell me how to keep a secret,” I said, perhaps a trifle sharply.
“Good. I not only know how much is in Egypt’s treasury, I know exactly where it is located.”
I stared at him, not sure if I believed him, but he was clearly serious. “How?”
He smiled, replying, “Because my father told me. He was taken to the Treasury by Cleopatra’s high priest of that abominable animal religion of theirs, and they were so sure that the maze of tunnels would be so confusing, and the blindfold they made him wear just to make sure, that it would keep him from learning its location. But as usual, they underestimated Caesar, and he memorized the path, counting every step, how many turns he made and in which direction, and as soon as he was able, he wrote it down before he forgot. I have the tablet in my possession, in a very safe place. When they removed his blindfold, he said that he almost fainted, because he had never seen so much wealth. By his estimate, it would be enough to pay every man in the army a full 16 year bonus at least twice over.”
I sat there speechless. Octavian leaned back, looking very pleased with himself, and he had every right to be. I could only shake my head in admiration of my old general. It never occurred to me to think that Caesar had made a mistake and Octavian would never find it.
“Well, that certainly solves a lot of problems,” was all I could think to say.
“That it does,” he agreed. “But that's not all I have planned. That can wait, however.”
He turned to face me, studying me with those blue eyes that can be so unsettling, it feeling as if he can peer into your very soul with them.
Finally, he asked, “So what of you, Pullus? The 10th’s enlistment is up next year. What are your plans? Surely you've given it some thought.”
Here was the moment I had been waiting for, and I took a breath before I plunged in. “In fact I have, Caesar. I've given it a lot of thought and I've decided that I'm going to retire at the end of this enlistment.”
He nodded, clearly not surprised. “I thought as much,” he replied. “But what are your plans for after retirement? You’re not going to run an inn or a wineshop, are you? That would be a huge waste of your talents, I can assure you.”
I had not been flattered this much in some time, which was making me extremely wary, but I answered him anyway. “Actually, Caesar, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Over the years, through my share of booty, sale of slaves and the various bonuses that I've earned,” I emphasized that this was not a gift, that I had worked for this money, “I've managed to save enough money to meet the requirements for elevation for myself and my descendants to be elevated to the equestrian class. I'm asking for your patronage and influence in helping me become an equites.”
He had been about to take a drink of wine, but the cup froze midway to his mouth as he stared at me for several heartbeats. Then, he set the cup down, his face suddenly a mask, giving nothing away.
“Really?” he said carefully. “I wasn't aware that you had such aspirations.”
Something in his tone made me tense, and I felt the tingling up the back of my neck that I sometimes got when danger was imminent. Octavian suddenly seemed to be looking everywhere but at me, and I waited for him to continue.
Finally, he said, “Forgive me, Pullus, that just caught me by surprise, and the truth is that I had something else in mind for you.”
Ah, I thought, here it is. Contrary to Octavian, I was not surprised, but a part of me was disappointed that he was just like all the others, using men like me as a piece in a game.
“What is that, Caesar?”
I know my tone was very cool. However, I was sure that I was not going to like what it was he had in mind.
I sat listening, and I have to say that it was extremely flattering that I was being asked to fill one of these spots. However, I was not tempted, and I said as much to Octavian.
“The pay will be 25,000 sesterces a year.” He acted as if he had not heard me. That was a staggering sum, more than 10,000 sesterces more than a Primus Pilus made, but I was still not interested.
“I'm sorry, Caesar, but I'm ready to retire. I want to settle down, and live a peaceful life.”
Octavian heaved a sigh, which I knew meant trouble. “Pullus,” he said quietly. “Rome still needs you. It would be selfish of you to leave her when she still does.”
Oh, he should not have said that. My anger flared up hot and bright, catching both of us by surprise.
“Selfish?” I snapped, almost not believing that he had used the word. “You call me selfish, Caesar?” I held out my arms so that he could see the scars. Not satisfied, I pulled my tunic aside so that he could see the puckered hole in my chest that was still purple, even these years later.
“This is what I've given to Rome, Caesar. I have bled, I have sweated, and I have watched friends die for Rome. Even worse, I've sent men to their deaths, knowing that they would die, all for Rome! Like Metellus, my Tertius Pilus Prior, killed by Agrippa, along with all of his men! Agrippa didn’t take them prisoner; he killed every last one of them, simply because I ordered them to be on Leucas and because the 10th was forced to march with Antonius after Philippi! Those were my men, and those Centurions were my comrades!”
I had not intended to bring up the fate of the Third Cohort, but I still grieved for the loss of those men, and at that moment I understood that I harbored resentment that neither Octavian nor Agrippa had bothered to acknowledge the loss of so many good Legionaries and friends. Octavian’s face reddened, his lips planing down into a thin line as he listened to me.
“So when you say that I'm being selfish, Caesar, I take great offense to that! There are very few men under the standard whose record of service match mine! That is, after all,” I finished, “why you're asking me to be this Camp Prefect, is it not?”
We sat there, glaring at each other, and I found that I was breathing as heavily as if I had just sprinted across the forum.
Finally, Octavian’s face relaxed and he held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I apologize, Pullus. I shouldn't have used that word. Truly, you're not selfish, and I apologize for giving you offense. It’s just that I'm not exaggerating when I say Rome needs you. I need you, Pullus. I need you to be a Camp Prefect so that these reforms take effect successfully.”
Knowing that he was making a peace offering, I tried to respond in kind. “I apologize as well, Caesar. I shouldn't have spoken so harshly. And I do appreciate the great honor you're doing me. I'm flattered that you think so highly of me that you would think I was so important to your plans.” I shook my head. “But I just want to retire, Caesar. And I believe that I'm owed that much, to be allowed to retire with honor in recognition for what I've given to Rome.”
Octavian sat there, saying nothing, looking at me with unreadable eyes.
After a moment, he spoke slowly, his voice quiet. “I can't argue with that, Pullus. But I also won't be refused in this matter. I can't stop you from retiring, but a few moments ago, you mentioned something about your elevation to the equestrian class, I believe?” His tone was gentle, yet my blood chilled nonetheless. In that instant, I knew what he would say next. “If you don't accept the honor I'm doing you, Pullus, I can promise you that neither you, nor any of your descendants will ever be an equites. However, if you serve as a Camp Prefect, after your retirement as Primus Pilus next year, of course, for a period of five years, I give you my solemn vow that you'll become equites. In fact, I'll make you a Senator, should you so desire it.”
It is said that every man has his price, and Octavian had found mine. I had no doubt whatsoever that he would do exactly as he said, that he would ensure that I would never become an equites, if I did not do as he required. I was just as sure that if I did, he would make it happen as if conjured by magic. I had no wish to be a Senator; the truth is that I wanted to be as far away from the city of Rome as possible when that day finally came that I settled down. This was the dream I held since I was a child and first conceived the idea of bettering myself, to prove to my long-dead father that he had been wrong about me. Now, it was both tantalizingly close and agonizingly far away, all because Octavian had decided I was still useful. From my perspective, I had no choice but to agree, and I did so that night. The surprising thing was that I was not even that angry about it, realizing that I must have known deep down that something like this was bound to happen. I wish I could say that Miriam felt the same; for the second time since I had known her, she was spitting angry, this time at Octavian.
“That man is as bad as Cleopatra! Worse even, because he claims to be helping Rome and he treats you, you Titus Pullus, no better than one of his slaves!”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said mildly, but she was not in the mood to be reasonable.
I had made the mistake of surprising her with my plans to retire, putting her in an ecstasy of anticipation, which only served to make me feel worse when I told her.
“I would! And why aren’t you as angry as I am, Titus Pullus?”
She glared at me with her hands on her hips, and I knew it was no time to laugh, but it was hard with Iras standing just behind her, giving me the exact same fierce scowl, in the identical position.
“You are happy this happened,” she accused me. “You did not want to retire, admit it! You probably hatched this plot with Octavian to get out of your promise to me!”
I did not recall making any kind of promise. However, this was not the time to point that out, or at least so I thought.
“I'm not happy about it, my love. I'm just not that surprised, I suppose,” I said, except she evidently did not want to hear anything I had to say, her only reply a snort.
“So you say, but I do not believe you! You love the army more than you love me!”
“Miriam, that may have been true at one time,” I told her, seeing her jaw drop, and I winced as I realized that she had not been expecting me to be so honest. “But that's no longer the case.” The words rushed out as I tried to keep the tears that I saw welling in her eyes from falling. “That's why I wanted to retire in the first place, Miriam. For you. I want to live the rest of my days with you, in peace and quiet. And we will, I swear it. It will just take longer than I had hoped, but that can’t be helped. I don’t have to tell you that Octavian isn't someone we want as an enemy, and with one word, he can crush my dreams of becoming an equites. So I don't have a choice in the matter. But, I do have one surprise that I hope will make you happy,” I finished, and I was rewarded with a hopeful look, though her eyes were still brimming.
“What is it?” she asked cautiously.
“Well, I don’t know now. You’ve accused me of some horrible things,” I said doubtfully, but I was just teasing her.
“I was angry, Titus Pullus, and you cannot blame me for that. But I did not mean what I said. I know you did not want this.”
“That’s better,” I relented, pausing for several moments until she looked as if she would burst.
“Well? What is this surprise?”
The surprise was the one concession I had extracted from Octavian in return for my acceptance of his proposal, the specifics of the request clearly surprising him a great deal.
“Pullus, I would never have mistaken you for the type of man who wanted to be in such a state,” was his response. “Bu
t I'm happy to grant you this dispensation. I'll have the proper paperwork prepared. You can pick it up from the Praetorium in the morning.”
“You know that even a Primus Pilus can't be married,” I began, to which she nodded.
“Yes, I am well aware of that fact,” she replied sadly. “But I have grown accustomed to that and I do not complain.”
“No, you don't,” I agreed, the sudden look of sorrow on her face making what I was about to say that much sweeter. “But while I know that you don’t like the idea of me continuing in the army, I hope that this will make it a bit easier to bear. You see, with this new post of Camp Prefect, I'm not bound by the same rules as if I were still under the standard.”
Miriam had been looking at the ground as I spoke. Her head slowly raised and I could see the beginning of a new emotion moving across her face.
I smiled at her, continuing to talk. “As Camp Prefect, I'm allowed to be married. Now, if I could only find a woman that would have me as her husband,” my voice trailed off, making a great show of being sad at the prospect of being alone.
“So you are saying that when you retire and become this Camp Prefect, we can be married?”
“No,” I replied, and I admit that it was a cruel thing to do, but at the time, I wanted to make a joke out of it. When I saw her face, looking as if she had been slapped, I realized that I had made a mistake, so I hurried to finish. “I don’t mean no, we can’t be married.” I held my hands up to her. “I mean that we don’t have to wait until I'm Camp Prefect. I received a dispensation from Octavian to allow us to be married now, before I take the post.”
“Now?” Miriam looked dazed, and she turned to Iras, whose jaw had dropped at my words.
“Today, if you want it,” I told her, then had to jump across the space separating us to catch her as she stumbled.
“I do not know what to say,” she murmured.
My heart started pounding when I was struck by a horrible thought. “I would hope that you'd say ‘yes.’” I tried to say it jokingly, but I could not shake off the feeling of dread brought on by her seeming hesitance.
