CHAPTER 17
A month later, I watched the newly dug grave on a hillside, a fair way from the house I had bought in the woods with the last of Gernot’s coin. Our house was simple, though large, and flowers surrounded it on all sides, save for the west, where the sea began.
Pompeia Magna had died, and I felt an odd stab of sorrow for her.
I was watching at the messengers below, who were riding to the harbor of Misenium, not that far below.
Below, news between Tiberius and Sejanus was being exchanged.
There was no more Livia involved in the business. Nay, Sejanus was free now.
“It is good, I think,” said Julia, “That Livia is gone.”
I grunted. “That was the intention. Good for Sejanus, and bad for Rome.”
She and Agamemnon had escaped indeed, and I had found them. They had willingly left Rome. She held her new daughter close. She had given birth the night Pompeia had died.
She was nodding at my words. “Sejanus will be in a hurry now. Some say he is as paranoid as Tiberius. It is no wonder, when he saw Brennus come back from the grave.”
We had no slaves, no servants, but we had gold. More than most people had.
Pompeia had told me where her treasure was hidden. I would get it, one day.
We were now on our own. Agamemnon, of all the people, was still with me. He would be, until Sejanus was gone.
And I wondered if I should send him away sooner.
She smiled. “I know what you are thinking. He will not go. He gave his oath. And Red’s death bothers him.”
Red’s loss, and the way he died?
It made him seethe with rage. I wondered if I should simply send him away before he, too, died.
“What of Gaius?” she asked.
“Apparently, Kemsit didn’t tell Sejanus about his involvement,” I said. “She worked for him, but ultimately hoped to find the gold, and kept many secrets. If she told anyone of her work, it would have been centurion Cassius. But that one has not moved on Gaius or Claudius.. Gaius is seemingly safe, as safe as a madman can be.” I pointed at Capri. “But he really should live with Tiberius from now on. He will. He is clever. And now, we must wait a bit. Sejanus will have to show his claws publicly.”
She was silent, until her baby began crying a bit.
“I don’t understand,” she said, tired, for she had not slept much and was in pain from the childbirth. “Not one bit. I never did, all the years we shared a house.”
She was no fool.
“What will,” I said, mimicking her fair voice, “happen when all those who still obey Tiberius die, or are forced to obey Sejanus, or sent to exile? Is it not so that Sejanus simply takes over? He has the Praetorian Guard.”
“Yes!”
I shrugged. “What is the Praetorian Guard if it has no prefect? A collection of men who must be paid. And he even has control of the treasury. We could find a way to speak to Tiberius even today. We might convince him of Sejanus’ evil, but first, we must…” I went quiet.
“Come, tell me,” she said sadly. “All of it. Your selfish dream; share it.”
“First, we must deprive Rome of all the proper heirs, and the best of blood,” I said simply. “Then, when that is done, and Sejanus tries to push Tiberius out, we shall surprise him. Gaius and someone else will convince Tiberius. And we shall have a force of men, and I can bribe Pretorian Guard, if I must and Tiberius agrees, but cannot. Gernot…” I said and closed my eyes. “He set it up, like he set up Maximus. We have a man who is seething for revenge. I sent word to a man. He is over there.”
She whirled and watched a rider. Her eyes were huge with shock.
“It is a soldier!” she said, taking steps back.
“It is a greedy, angry soldier,” I said. “He won’t betray us. At least he should not. But you go and take your girl away.”
She almost ran for our house.
I watched the rider approaching.
It was Macro, the prefect of the vigiles, formerly the rising star of the Praetorian Guard.
He looked wary and stared at me with fear. The gladiator helmet was at my feet, still stained in blood.
He stopped nearby. Then he cleared his throat. “So. I got a word from a man that someone of immense importance to me might want a word. This is a long way off, friend.”
I grunted. “Rome is a bit unkind to me right now.”
He shook his head. “You know I spoke with your brother a few times in Rome?”
“I asked him to,” I told him. “I asked him to speak to you of the shame you suffered. Of bravery, and of promotion, that involved risks,” I said. “You were one of the centurions in the Praetorian Guard. Now you are a captain of firemen.”
“They are good—”
“Scum,” I said bluntly. “You lead scum. Firemen, soldiers only in their dreams.”
He frowned and reddened with insult. “What else?”
“I told Gernot that you should make sure your wife is close to Gaius, so we would have eyes on him. Has she done that? I hear you sent reports to Gernot, for a while.”
He looked down at his hands, very unhappy. “I did do that. Do you know what happened?”
I gave him a cold glare. “He took her as a lover?”
“He sleeps with her,” he said with spite. “And I must endure it. She is terrified of him, by the way. Ennia suffers for him.”
I nodded. “I am sorry to hear of that.”
“And I was promised a chance to be Sejanus,” he said scathingly. “If I was patient. And helped. And I have. I have endured more than most men have. Now? I hear Gernot is dead.”
“Gernot, my brother, was murdered, but the plan is alive,” I told him. “I have the gold.”
He looked relieved for a moment. Then concerned. “Well then. Let us say I might agree to work with you. What do we expect next?”
“Your vigiles has scum serving in it,” I said. “We will need a hundred bravest men. The absolute best of scum.”
“And if they get paid, it is possible,” he said, even more nervous now. “Why?”
I looked at him. “Was it true what Sejanus told me of Tiberius?”
He shrugged. “I was, by then, dismissed. The rumors that I wanted to marry Julia Drusilla sealed my fate as a prefect of scum.” He sighed. “But, yes. Livia is…was his dear mother. He forgave her long ago. And he did order your death, if you decided not to come to Rome. And yes, even if you did. And the business with Ulrich, aye.”
“Good to know,” I said. “So, what is Sejanus doing? Are senators and Agrippa’s brood finally about to fall?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes. You killed Livia?”
“Yes,” I said. “I fed her bread. She might also have drowned. I might have overdone it, but I enjoyed the moment.”
“He is blaming Nero and Drusus,” he said sadly. “He is making Tiberius a gibbering maniac with charges of treason, with fear and suspicion. Yes, he has started. Tiberius agreed on few of them already. But what will happen after? Tiberius will die, one day soon.”
I nodded. “We need to make Gaius the Princeps.”
He gaped at me. Then he laughed for a long while. “We must? You, a Germani barbarian who dreams of a hall in the woods, of small cows in the stable, and mangy dogs to warm his feet? You and I, we are making Gaius a Princeps now?”
I said nothing.
He cleared his throat. “I am willing to agree that you have been doing well so far. I must say, though, that I don’t think he will make a good Princeps.”
“We shall see,” I said. “But if you treat him like you would a walking, living god, he shall deny you nothing.”
“I would love to be a governor of some rich land,” he murmured. “Far from here. And what do you intend to do, and what is needed?” he asked me heavily.
I smiled. “First, let the blood flow. We shall have perhaps a few years to watch them. Patience. I will send Agamemnon to you with and for news.”
“Years?” he ask
ed, and then looked to the sea. “You know, in order to topple Sejanus, one must speak with Tiberius. I hear he does not let anyone in there these days. Ships guard it.”
I smiled. “Well, that may be. But now we have soldiers, and as for the way?” I shrugged. “They must eat at Capri. We wait, for now. As long as it takes.
He did not look happy with the wait but saluted and agreed.
He would make Gaius a princeps.
And Gaius would make him a corpse. Eventually. He would kill all of Rome.
CHAPTER 18
Blood flowed. It flowed across Rome and the provinces.
The whole affair reminded one of Sulla or Marius’ time.
Senators of high rank were being accused and condemned in droves.
Those who stood against Sejanus’ rule felt his bite at once. Lists of traitors appeared in the Temple of Juppiter every day. Charges of treason were announced in the Senate so regularly, daily, that whenever Sejanus appeared, the place was as quiet as a grave, men looking down at their hands. Not even those some tens out of the two hundred or so active senators, who were securely in his pocket, could be sure of survival. Sejanus made riches finally, as he confiscated these massive fortunes, of which only part went to the treasury of the state.
Husbands betrayed wives, wives’ husbands, and siblings pointed fingers at each other.
Nobody was safe.
He used some of his newly found wealth to raise altars and buildings. One, the altar of Amicia and Clementia, of mercy and clemency, he raised in both his and Tiberius' names. Indeed, in this altar, both men had statues standing together. His birthday, by Tiberius’ leave, who, by this time, saw the man as his sole savior, was celebrated like he belonged to the imperial family itself.
And Sejanus paid back in kind.
He killed men he feared, but also whom Tiberius hated.
Gallus, the husband to the slain Vipsania, was taken, condemned, and sent away to starve. He died in suspicious conditions.
His sons, the ones who were still alive, fled the land for a time.
And then, there was the decisive moment, when Agrippina, and her two sons were finally accused of treason. So overwhelming was the evidence fabricated by Sejanus, so many great men and women testified against her, all claiming she had poisoned Drusus the Younger, and Livia as well, and tried to raise the rabble to rebellion, that she stood no chance.
Agrippina and Nero were charged with treason.
And then, to make things worse, she was charged with seducing her own sons.
People loved Agrippina for her husband, the great Germanicus, the valiant leader, the tragic slain; the great son of Drusus the Elder. They loved her sons, and they hated Tiberius. Now they hated Sejanus as well. The Senate, which Sejanus thought was in his grips, refused to act on the charges, afraid of the mobs, until Tiberius agreed to re-verify the charges. When he did, Nero was sent away an enemy of the state to the island of Pontia, where he was murdered.
Agrippina, the poor woman, was taken to the island of Pandateria, and there she was starved to death by cruel men in a cold room.
Nero’s brother Drusus was condemned of the same later. Of treason and misconduct.
He too died of starvation.
The people were stunned.
Much of Rome had stood in the Forum during the trials, holding the Senate hostage, demanding the charges be dropped.
All three died, nonetheless.
The two men, adopted by Tiberius, both of whom had been made questors five years in advance, the men who had married high, whose sisters were all to be married to three of the most powerful senators, and whom everyone loved well, were gone.
Aye, only the sisters and Gaius survived.
Their marriages were still in doubt. They could very well be next.
Gaius’s sister Agrippina was already married. Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus, one of Pompeia’s clients, was a distant relative, an older man of consular rank. He had a dubious reputation and was an opponent of Tiberius, and many thought quite rightly he had supported Agrippina and her claim to the throne against Tiberius, but Tiberius had approved of the marriage the same year as the girl’s mother was condemned.
Perhaps to appease the crowds.
Perhaps Domitius was in the pocket of Sejanus by now.
Tiberius married Julia Drusilla to Longinus, the bastard who had tried to have us fight for his feast. And also, Vincius would marry Julia Livilla.
With Livia gone, all these great men saw no reason to oppose Sejanus and took their high price, though even they knew Sejanus would brook no heirs to threaten him.
And then, one day, a few years into the terror of Sejanus, at the end of a very cold September, Agamemnon came to me.
He took his second child to his lap and fed her gruel.
Then he spoke. “Macro sends word. Gaius has escaped to Capri. And Ennia told me that she overheard Sejanus speaking…well, it is no secret apparently in the Palatine. Macro has called for a meeting with senators and has set up a date. October 17th, in the Senate, to speak about the well-being of Tiberius.”
I nodded and sighed. “We must start. Make the preparations.”
“Finally,” he said softly.
***
It was early October when we met Macro in Rome.
We had entered the city at night with his help, and Agamemnon was with me.
Macro stood by the rostra, walking back and forth, having aged a decade. The time of Sejanus had made Rome a land of fear, and the wait had made us all gray and sour.
The months after the condemnation of Agrippina had also brought murders, arson, theft, and rioting.
Macro’s vigiles had been terribly busy.
I walked to him, and he hesitated and licked his lips. “Are you sure you dare to do this?”
I nodded.
“She is old,” he whispered.
“She is also the last good Roman,” I said. “The one who is above suspicion. She has seen her husband die, and her son murdered. And now she is a grandmother to Tiberius Gemellus. The last son of her family she might want to protect. She told me once, if I need to hear the truth, I can come to her. I have. Now she can save Rome.”
Though, not for good.
“The gold?” he asked. “We shall need much.”
“Hidden. I have it.”
Macro led me along.
When we got close to her house, we pulled out dirty tunics and disguised ourselves as commoners.
She had guards, but not inside the house.
Macro led us through the slave entrance, carrying supplies.
Inside, we walked past the kitchen and through the slave entrance to the garden, where Antonia sat.
She was the wife of Drusus the Elder, the last of the old women of the highest families.
She watched me, and I could see she was steeling herself for a struggle. She saw me coming forward and waved Macro back.
I kneeled. “Antonia.”
I had failed her. Germanicus was dead. How much she guessed, I wasn’t sure.
“This smacks of treason, Hraban,” she said thinly.
I nodded and waited.
She adjusted her stola and held her face briefly, gathering herself. Then she spoke softly. “It is also a treason against Hades. I have heard rumors, of course. You are alive. Dead. Alive. But no. You died. I was not there. But I heard of it.”
“I didn’t die,” I said. “I am no ghost. I was saved by Fortuna.”
She looked ready to spit and then shook her head. “No. By some evil god, rather. There is no Fortuna. I have learnt that lately. How did it come to this? You came to me, Hraban, and told me Livia killed my husband, her son. And I aided you. And what were you supposed to do?”
I closed my eyes. “I was supposed to guard Gaius, and Lucius, and even your son.”
“And now, they are all dead, and Livilla is a whore of Sejanus and Claudius is still what? His fool,” she snarled. “Gaius’s fool. What have you done? For only death could excuse s
uch a failure, Hraban, as yours.”
She was cold as ice, and I agreed with her. “I have failed. I have had trouble with all of them. I served and tried my best, but I lost family, friends too. Cassia is dead, my family cast in the winds, and friends serve others, or are dead. Tiberius betrayed me.”
Gernot’s face came to me, and I felt the pain acutely.
She noticed.
“Friends are not supposed to serve you,” she said some pity. “And I am sorry, Hraban, but Tiberius is what he is, and you should have known better. Why are you here? You have failed in—”
“And I killed her,” I said. “Livia.”
She blinked.
Macro was nodding softly, as she inevitably turned her head that way.
She actually smiled. “I see. I am tempted to ask for the details, but it would not be proper.” She tilted her head with curiosity. “You are a fugitive, and a desperate one, but you have allies. Macro is known to me as an ambitious man, though, not perhaps a moral one.”
Macro looked down. She had that effect on people.
I nodded. “We all have our goals in life, lady. Macro’s is the downfall of Sejanus. And Sejanus, lady, is planning on marrying Livilla, to take hold of Tiberius Gemellus, to scatter all the relatives and blood of Augustus, and to murder Tiberius. He will move soon.”
She frowned. “Tiberius spoke of poison, years ago.”
“A spider in a cup saved him,” I said. “But it is a different matter. Sejanus does not plan to use poison, but the Senate. He has them in his column, and unwilling or not, and I cannot tell you how, they are not easy to persuade back to Tiberius’ side.”
“Did you say a spider? In a cup?” she asked, frowning.
I nodded.
She shook her head and spoke. “Never mind. Livilla,” she sighed. “She will lose Tiberius Gemellus. She doesn’t see, or care.”
“Livilla has slept with Sejanus for many years,” I said. “She did already when Drusus was alive.”
She nodded. “I know. I hate her for it. She has shamed us.”
Honor was part of her, like her skin.
“And Sejanus and she, they killed him together, and blamed Agrippina,” I said.
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