“Alas,” she said softly, “that Livia was the only one keeping the two in check with her influence over Tiberius.” She gave me an appraising look, and I endured it. “I sense you hope to contain the two now. Though you must hate Tiberius too. I am curious. What would you have of me?”
“You have but one thing to do. You must convince Tiberius that Sejanus is guilty of all of this. And he is. In two weeks, Sejanus is going to try to seize the powers of Tiberius, and the loyalty of the army, and he will claim Gemellus, and Claudius, Gaius, and his sisters will all die, one by one. I am begging you to reach out to Tiberius. I hate him too. But Sejanus is the bane of all of Rome. We need you to tell him how Sejanus seduced your daughter and killed both Drusus and Livia.”
“You ask me to tell him something I do not know for sure,” she whispered. “It is not proven—"
“Sejanus will kill all of them,” I said. “If we act, we can stop him. Tiberius could make Gaius the Princeps, adopt him and Gaius could adopt Gemellus. Tiberius will die soon. You can save them. We have no time for proof. We need you to speak to him despite that.”
She struggled. “Fine. I will. But you will tell me something.”
I closed my eyes. I nodded.
“Who,” she asked with a broken voice, “poisoned my son, Germanicus? Tell me the truth.”
I closed my eyes. “Your son…” I said, terrified. I forced my voice to work. “Your son ordered the death of my wife. He hated me. And I hated him. I killed him, on the orders of Tiberius and Sejanus.”
She slapped me hard. Her eyes were wet with tears, and she was shuddering.
She crashed on a bench and wept.
Then, after what seemed like forever, she nodded. “For Tiberius Gemellus. None else.” She wept in the corner. “Tiberius. To imagine he was such a happy boy once. Loved his mother. Alas, that he didn’t love us.”
I got up, and left, the plans made. I made my way to a certain house near the Theatre of Pompey. Overlooking the great, yet unfinished temple in the Fields of Mars, I found a room, covered now in spiderwebs, and a well hidden trapdoor cleverly built to look like stone floor, buried under old, moldy rugs.
There she had had her family, but not Kemsit, bring all the extra coin she made from killing and extorting her client’s enemies.
Under the trapdoor, in the cellars, so near the shrine to her father, Pompeia had hidden millions and millions of sesterces, perhaps as much as hundred.
When Agamemnon and I were done staring at it, we took what we needed, and left the house.
***
The ship was in the Misenium port.
It was a regular trade ship, fat and ungainly, with sail rather than rowers, a drunkard crew, and a bad captain. That morning, when they had finally loaded the ship with wine, grains, and fish, we walked to the pier.
There were no guards on the pier.
The guards had gold and were spending it elsewhere.
There were forty of us.
All were vigiles, and all had been legionnaires once. They were the best of the scum. They too, would be rich scum soon enough.
The captain popped his head out of his cabin to look at the pier and frowned. His head swiveled back and forth and saw his was the only ship in the pier.
He stepped out, and his men, some twenty of them, all with bronzed skin and few from Rome, gathered on the deck.
They saw we were armed and knew at once it would be a bad idea to fight.
A few jumped out of the ship from behind, and we could hear the splashes.
I walked up the plank, and the captain looked up to the sky, praying.
“Not here for your lives, or even your coin,” I said. “We need something else. Put your boys to work and tell them to look lively, and even normal, for we are about to sail as usual. Nothing odd about this little holiday, eh?”
He murmured something, cleared his throat, and then spoke. “We are going to go to Capri. Praetorians guard it, and there are plenty of slaves. You know who is in there…” He went quiet, as he realized we did know. He sucked in his breath. “You are here to kill him!”
I sighed. “No, friend. We are here to save him. Tiberius stands high on top of the world, my friend, but it is about to come crashing down. There is a coup taking place in Rome. We will save him, and you are a hero.”
“I am a hero,” he said, more than asked, his face full of wonder. “Aye.”
“Set sail when you are ready, captain,” Agamemnon said, tired of chatter. “And make sure nobody does anything foolish.”
Then he turned to speak to the Vigile Optio, and they began guarding the ship, and he sent some to check out the cargo bay, where the men would hide.
I turned to watch Capri, far away in the horizon.
I saw sails around it and knew ships guarded it too.
Fifty men held the island, and a centurion of brutal reputation made sure few men could get in. A winding way led up to the domus, which had a wall and a gate, and much of the rest of the island had small garrisons.
We had to take it.
And I could only hope Tiberius would not die of fright.
“She is coming,” said Agamemnon.
I turned and saw our guest arriving.
***
That afternoon, after a hair-raising meeting with a bireme off the coast, the grain ship was finally mooring, and we were in the hold. We were dressed like sailors, in rough tunics, and had no caligae.
The crew was not happy. They were terrified.
They were, even if they had been given silver each.
And if they decided to make a break for it, it would alarm everyone.
Then we watched our men hailing the guard on the dock and had little time to worry.
Agamemnon and I began moving the jars filled with wheat. Macro’s vigiles were swarming to the deck, and out there, up there in the highest part of the island, I saw a man.
It seemed an old man, draped in a purple cloak, and I was sure it was Tiberius.
I cursed our luck.
He was staring down at us, and for some reason, I knew he saw me, for he suddenly seemed to stiffen, bent almost in two. Then he turned and was gesturing at someone.
“What’s the centurion’s name?” I asked the captain, who joined us on the deck.
“Mursius,” he said. “A bastard. Always takes some of the cargo for himself.”
I watched Mursius, the large centurion, gesturing at me.
The captain cursed. “The mail. Fast now. He always wants it fast. You look like you have never been here. Don’t look like that, or we will all hang.”
I hailed Mursius. “Here, good man!” I lifted a sack.
“You are an odd one,” he called out, his thumbs under his belt. “Look more like a horse than a man. New men? I don’t know all.”
“Plague,” I said, shaven but scarred. I grasped the bag and walked down the plank. “Plague took half the crew week past. It is too bad. They owed me coin.”
He laughed and eyed the captain. “He looks sullen. Did he lose coin too?”
I shook my head. “Nay. He had other trouble. Pirates.”
His brutal, stupid face was screwed in a confused look.
I slipped my hand into the sack and pushed the dagger inside it to his throat.
He fell on his back and flapped his life away, and we attacked.
We rushed to the praetorians, and I went first, followed by Agamemnon. We struck down the praetorians near the ship, and some of the disguised vigiles, the most trusted men of Macro, charged forward to stab at the men who were appearing from a guard house. The melee was furious, but fast. Ten of the unprepared, lazy, and even drunken praetorians were killed and I saw how the vigiles were butchering an optio and a servant deep inside the house.
None raised an alarm.
On top, I saw Tiberius turning and rushing away.
“Hurry,” I hissed. “Bring the ladders.”
Three men on two ladders, they were already being carried out.
/> One tossed my falx and helmet to me. I pulled the latter on.
I watched the way up and sprinted forward.
Up there, we heard men calling warnings.
“Shit,” I said. “Fast.”
We charged forward, ran through a small forest on the hillside, and then, finally, came to the closed gates and eight-foot-tall walls.
On the walls, an optio was looking down at us, his eyes huge with horror. He had ten men with him.
I whistled. “At them.”
The vigiles grinned and then ran forward. Pila fell amid them, and three men fell, a ladder crashing to pieces.
I cursed and grasped another from suddenly timid men, and Agamemnon helped me. A man was aiming a pilum, and I begged Woden he would fail.
The javelin fell between my legs and tore at my tunic’s edge halfway between my knee and cock.
Agamemnon grunted. “I would have lost the tip to that.”
“Shut up,” I snarled, and we threw the ladder against the wall.
Then, without a thought, I climbed up. I ran up the ladder and held the falx in my right hand.
I saw men swarming up there, hands trying to push the ladder to the side, and when I got up, I hacked at the hands.
One fell off. The man screamed and fell beyond.
I got up, put my helmet up there first, and a sword shattered on it. I struck around with the falx, and then, suddenly dizzy from the blow, fell back down, and over Agamemnon.
When I came to, I saw two ladders were filled with vigiles, and Agamemnon was up there, his sica swinging furiously, and men were dying.
The gate swung open, and a Vigile, bloodied, grinned at me. “Here, sir.”
I cursed him and walked through.
I scanned the huge palace and saw Tiberius. He was on top of a set of winding stairs, a seemingly endless number of them, and then he fled to a large house beyond.
I looked at the walls.
There, vigiles and Agamemnon had finished. Some of the enemy were still alive but were bleeding their lives away.
No prisoners were taken.
I said nothing, but hefted the falx over my shoulder, and walked over the yard, kicked aside a vase filled with flowers, and began climbing.
It took time, but the line of vigiles got up to a large, golden tiled courtyard.
There was a huge door across from us.
There, at the gate of that main house, they had a line.
There were twelve men in it, and they were new, lazy men who had been hired to what had once been an elite force with no other merit than looking pretty. They saw us and shifted, and I looked at Agamemnon.
“Still dizzy?” he asked, scratching his neck with the sica.
“The age, Agamemnon, the age,” I said. “Kill them.”
He nodded at the men heaving around him, and the men, now victorious, roared and rushed forward.
The enemy lifted pila and threw them in a ragged volley.
One tore past my face, and another toppled Agamemnon on his face, slashing his thigh. The wave of vigiles bore down at them, and suddenly, the line simply disappeared.
They ran in all directions. The vigiles hunted them down, each one.
I hopped over a corpse, Agamemnon got up and cursing, followed.
We opened the doors.
Nobody threw javelins. No warrior was in sight.
There was a large atrium ahead. There were golden and silver statues of gods looking out from a pool of water. At the far end of the atrium, a corridor opened, and in a golden hall beyond sat Tiberius.
His face was pale, and frame hunched. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he held a hand on his chest, as if expecting a dagger. He had draped the red cape around him.
Liar.
Traitor.
He saw me. He saw a man in a gladiator helmet and holding a huge falx.
I walked forward.
I kept glancing about, trying to spot attackers, but what slaves there were, they had fled. So had the soldiers. Their begging voices echoed across the palace, and the screams when mercy was denied. The vigiles seemed to enjoy the role of liberators, but also that of executioners.
They were scum, after all.
I stopped before Tiberius. He stared at my naked sword, and then he looked to the side.
There were Claudius and Gaius, both kneeling in abject terror in the shadows.
Tiberius pointed a shivering finger at my direction. “Does he look like he is here in peace?”
I heard Gaius’ voice. “He has ever guarded you, and his oath. He is an oath keeper, not breaker. He is here to save you from Sejanus.”
He looked at me, puzzled.
I stared at him. And nodded.
I hated him.
He slumped, and closed his eyes, and seemed to shiver. “I am an oath breaker. And a liar, Hraban.”
“I know, my lord,” I said. “Sejanus told me about you and Livia, and he told me about Flavus. And Ulrich. He told me much. I wonder if he told me all?”
He shook his head. “Never everything, no. Sejanus…I think he pushed the idea of killing you, and I…I cannot remember.”
I pulled out the helmet, and he seemed to relax as I placed it on the ground.
The falx made him nervous, though.
I spoke, forcing the lie out of my throat, and tried to silence the screaming, unreasonable voice in my head, which wanted me to chop him down. “But lords, and kings, and gods, they can break oaths. They have their reasons, and who are we to question them, mortals. Nay, I am here to save you. Your son—”
“Sejanus said,” he whispered, “it was Agrippina. The poison long ago. Plotting for decade, he claimed. And her sons were in it too. And he said that you were helping them.”
“I was serving you, and Sejanus has been destroying his enemies with your blessings,” I said. “Many of your Senators are traitors, but most of all, they are afraid. Sejanus has a lot of dirt on his hands. He found someone, we did. Pompeia Magna. She has been killing Romans for decades, Tiberius. And he used her knowledge to gather power. Your mother alone kept him in check.”
“Agrippina killed her too,” he whispered. He held his face. “Sejanus…I don’t believe you.”
“Believe your brother’s wife,” I said. “Antonia.”
Steps echoed in the atrium. He looked up, and I stepped aside.
There, Macro was escorting Antonia, who was dressed in regal stola and palla. Tiberius wept as he saw her, and then fell to his knees. “I…”
“You have failed in your duty,” she said, as she stepped to him and put her hand on his head. “Your brother’s memory, you have failed. Your son’s—”
He wept. It was a hopeless, desperate Tiberius who wept at her feet.
I felt no pity.
Gernot and the others…
No. I had chosen. It was my fault, as well.
“Livilla, my daughter,” she whispered. “I failed with her. I will not ask you about my son’s fate. I know you have had a hand in it. It was not Sejanus alone. But now, Sejanus will fail Rome far worse.” She nodded at the two kneeling men. “Your Gaius here, he you should trust in. He can carry Rome, until Tiberius Gemellus is old enough. But they will all die, if you let Sejanus do his evil.”
She ignored Claudius.
Whatever her qualities, she likely thought Claudius was a curse, the true harbinger of doom for their ruined family.
When he wept, he leaned on his chair. Antonia sat near him. He shook his head. “Even if I…Sejanus knows all the Senators.”
Macro dropped a heap of scrolls on the ground.
I nodded at it. “Decades of crimes by those people and their families. This is what he uses. You may use them too. Some are too deep in his party. Others? Not so much. Sejanus cannot extort them, if you know about it. You can pardon them. Many will be swayed back to you. And then, Macro, your new prefect of the Praetorian Guard, will deal with the rest.”
He looked at the huge pile of scrolls.
Antonia nodd
ed to the pile. “They are filled with bloody stories, Tiberius. You must act, you must have him removed. He is going to take over your powers in a few days. Then he will marry my Livilla, he will have a child with her, and they will forget our kin. Apicta, his divorced wife, is willing to tell you this as well.”
She nodded at the atrium.
There stood a nervous woman.
That was her addition to our plan.
It worked.
Tiberius closed his eyes, and it looked like he was suddenly relieved of a huge burden. He held his face, the bastard, and I thought of his lies and weakness, and wondered how much I still did not know.
He looked at Gaius thoughtfully, for long minutes and then, seemed to decide something. “Will you guard my Tiberius Gemellus, Gaius?”
Gaius smiled and bowed. “With all my heart, I give you the oath.”
He nearly smiled, but not quite.
“And will you,” he asked, his eyes on Macro, who was there now in his Vigile cloak, “guard him?”
Macro kneeled and wept. “Yes. I will.”
“And will you,” he asked and watched me, “forgive me and do my bidding, and guard them all?”
I stood tall and lied. “I will not forgive you, but I will guard them all. I am tired of my vengeance.”
It was true. The whole scene made me sick.
And still, I was to far to turn back.
He got up and walked about, clutching his cloak. He was nodding. “The traitor. The liar. The…my boy?”
Antonia nodded. She wept softly.
I closed my eyes and was surprised I could still feel shame.
All these high and mighty men, the highest men in all the land, the finest women of best blood?
You could lie to anyone. All could be corrupted.
And I was worst of all the liars.
“Thirteenth of this month,” said Macro. “He has called the Senate to speak about your health.”
Tiberius nodded. “So. He will be nervous as shit that morning. He will be there, and twitching, making his move. You’ll see.” He laughed softly. “That moment. That moment when you must dare all. It is so hard to step forward. I know it. It is like leaping to the abyss. Most men will not.” He shook his head, his eyes on the scrolls. “We will need to get out messages. He cannot see them. First, I will soothe him. I shall lavish him with gifts, and one Senator after another will read my letters. They must be smuggled out. I will give him plenty of honor, and titles. I will make him smile like a child. He’ll be there, ready to declare himself my replacement, to declare me insane?”
The Oath Keeper Page 30
