‘And the other?’
‘Gaius Hostilius Arvina. He might be the toughest to get to. He’s risen in the last few years to the position of centurion, but he’s no ordinary Guard officer. His remit is the security of the imperial palace. He lives on the Palatine and every soldier there is under his direct command. I’d say it’s somewhat telling the direction the Guard is heading that they concentrate so heavily on the security of the Palatine whether the emperor is there or not, for usually Cleander is.’
‘Thank you. I will see to it that all three of them join their friends before this is over.’
Cestius shot him a warning look. ‘Given what you’re engaged in – we’re engaged in, I suppose – your fellow conspirators would disapprove of you jeopardising the grand scheme for the sake of small revenge, no matter how justified it might be.’
Rufinus shook his head. ‘When Cleander falls, those who took his coin will fall with him or soon after. These six men deserve worse than that. They need to die knowing that it’s because they murdered an innocent man in cold blood, not because they later signed on with Cleander. It is a matter of simple principle.’
Cestius chuckled. ‘A man of principle. A rare thing in the Guard these days. I respect your decision, but I will advise you to be careful and circumspect in your dealings with them. Do not allow this quest of yours to interfere with the grand plan. It is too important.’
There was a click just then as the door slipped open once more and two figures entered together.
Severus wore his toga like a cuirass. Never had a man looked more like a general even in civilian clothes. With him was Nicomedes, the head of the state courier service.
‘Rufinus. Cestius.’
The governor and his companion strode over and took two more of the seats. No one spoke now, and Rufinus found himself swinging back and forth between nervous fretting about what was about to be discussed and impatient anger, wanting to leave and hunt down the first of those three doomed cavalrymen. Fortunately only a few moments passed before the door opened and Dionysus stepped in. The door shut behind, and the grain commissioner made for another chair.
‘A redundant question, I know,’ Severus muttered, ‘but we are safe to talk here?’
Dionysus nodded. ‘I have two ex gladiators on my staff, both of whom are mute and deaf, but are paid so handsomely that their loyalty is unquestioned. They guard the room close enough to stop any eavesdropper. Additionally, the wicker passage has been moved. Anyone who follows us will find that now the path leads them only back into the villa. I am very careful, Severus.’
‘Careful enough to invite Cleander.’
‘A stroke of genius,’ put in Cestius. ‘No one in their right mind would invite Cleander to somewhere they had something to hide. This is the last place his men will be looking for trouble. And if the two men Dionysus speaks of are the two I think they are, then they owe their muteness and deafness to the chamberlain too, so I cannot imagine a safer pair of guards. And I made sure that the man who followed Rufinus from his castrum disappeared before we came in.’
Rufinus blinked. He’d been followed? He had no idea. So that was who’d been on the receiving end of the man’s knife beneath the trees.
‘Very well,’ Severus said. ‘I realise that we all have our vested interest in this matter, but I also know that I am in the best position to take the lead. For sure Cleander will have men in the courier service, and among the grain stores. Neither of you gentlemen can move too freely. Cestius lives among a camp of spies. They may be very loyal, but no sane man plots within a camp of spies. And then there’s the Prefect of the Fleet over there, who is nicely inconspicuous, but believe me, if Cleander spends any time close to him, or his agents pry too much, Rufinus will come unstitched remarkably fast. I, on the other, hand, have never put a foot wrong with Cleander, have spent much of my time away in the provinces and have occupied myself over much of the past decade with building a clientele and military network upon whom I can rely. So I trust no one will mind that I believe I have found the way to pull this plot together.’
A chorus of nods confirmed this, and so Severus leaned forward.
‘As I suggested in the meeting with the others, I believe the trick to this is not to directly bring about the chamberlain’s downfall. A blade in the dark or an open accusation will both fail. A knife in the back would cause a round of investigations and proscriptions that would see us all tortured to death. And no one can get enough on Cleander to accuse him without him wriggling out of it, which would then set him seeking revenge.’
Cestius nodded. ‘Quite true. Believe me, I have spent the past year digging and putting together information. The problem is that the whole world can see what he’s doing, but none of it breaks any specific law, and those that have been bent too far have been done so with the emperor’s permission. No court case will bring him down.’
‘Precisely,’ Severus agreed. ‘So what I propose is something akin to what happened to Perennis. We know that the accusations made against him were false, and time would have allowed us to prove the untruths of the evidence. But Cleander had been clever. He made sure to set the whole of Rome against Perennis, and the mob might have no say in the senate, but when they speak with one mouth even emperors are forced to listen. Perennis died simply because the Roman people demanded it. Only something similar will bring down Cleander. He needs to be universally despised, so that there is no man willing to stand for him. Only then will his defences be down and he stripped of his power.’
‘But how do you plan to turn the whole of Rome against him?’ Dionysus murmured.
‘Simply. He needs to be seen to be at fault when Rome suffers. What was Juvenal’s rule for the mob?’
‘Panem et Circenses,’ Rufinus put in. ‘The people will always be satisfied with bread and circuses.’
Dionysus’ eyes narrowed. ‘Bread?’
‘Exactly. How is your history? Who is aware of the revolt of Clodius Macer against the idiot Nero?’
Rufinus felt his heart lurch. He had an idea of where this was going. ‘Macer was governor of Africa. He rebelled against the emperor, but he was supposedly urged into it by a woman. Calvia something-or-other.’
Severus smiled. ‘You know your histories, Rufinus. Calvia Crispinilla. She formed a plan to interrupt the grain shipments from Africa and Aegyptus, to starve Rome into capitulation. Rome would see that Macer sat in Africa with more grain than he knew what to do with, claiming the throne, while Nero floundered in the capital, unable to do anything about his starving people. The mob is fickle. They would so easily turn on their emperor for such a thing. And if an emperor might be brought down in such a way, how much easier a freedman?’
Papirius Dionysus shook his head. ‘The grain distribution is my responsibility. I am the man the people would tear apart.’
‘Not if we work a way to displace the blame,’ Severus argued. ‘Cleander has his hand in every pie, and any dish free of his influence he covets. It should not be difficult to get him to take responsibility for the grain if he thinks it will make him popular or powerful. He is vain and ambitious enough to leap without considering the danger. And who better to do this? Rufinus commands the fleet that keeps the west coast clear and safe for grain shipments, Dionysus distributes them when they arrive in Rome. I control the access to the fleet’s grain mills at Arelate, and can get close to Cleander, nudging matters as they require it, steering events. Nicomedes can control the flow of information, allowing us to proceed as we wish, and Cestius can make sure that this all remains quiet and unnoticed. I did not gather you four men by chance, you know. We can emulate the plan of Calvia Crispinilla, land the blame with Cleander, and watch the people of Rome bay for his head.’
‘There is another problem with this,’ Rufinus said quietly.
‘Oh?’
‘Your plan somewhat relies upon starving the people of Rome. I for one am not comfortable with that. Rome suffers enough already with the plague. Emptying the b
ellies of babes and old folk is not worth it to bring down one man, even if that man is Cleander.’
Severus fixed him with a look that brooked no argument. ‘This is war, Rufinus. You’ve suffered war. You know that sometimes you must position your men in danger to draw out an enemy so you can cut them down. Sacrifices have to be made.’
‘This sacrifice is too much.’
Severus looked around at the others, and Rufinus followed suit, but was disappointed to see only grim nods as the rest of the room reluctantly agreed with the governor, who then turned back to him.
‘I cannot do this without you. I brought you into my house and had you appointed to power so that you could be part of this. We are committed to a path. And while the path I chose is strewn with thorny roses, it is still the best path for that we seek. I am not a vicious man by nature, Rufinus, but I am willing to sacrifice men to save the empire. Currently I believe I have all the pieces of this puzzle, though I have not yet quite worked out how they fit together. That might yet take some time, for I would far rather be slow and certain than fast and risky. While I work all of this out I grant you, Rufinus, time to come up with a viable alternative plan. If when we next meet you can persuade us of a better way then I will acquiesce. But if not, then you will submit and continue with our plan. Cleander must fall, and I will not falter in the task.’
‘What use is the fleet anyway?’ Dionysus put in.
‘What?’
‘The grain fleets are formed of private contractors paid for by the state. There is no imperial owned fleet, and they do not even have a military escort. Of what use, then, is the Misenum fleet?’
‘As I said, not all the pieces are in place in this puzzle,’ Severus reiterated, ‘but the grain fleets are at the mercy of the usual perils of the sea, and of all the fleets in the empire the Misenum fleet is the strongest and most important, and above all it secures and maintains the coast upon which lie the ports where the grain arrives. We may not be able to exert control where the grain comes from out in the southern provinces, but Rufinus here controls the sea where it arrives.’
Dionysus nodded his acceptance of that.
‘Then we are agreed?’ Severus said, deliberately avoiding Rufinus’ troubled face. ‘I shall return to my planning. Each of you I suggest look to the security and loyalty of your own spheres of influence. Anyone you have reason to mistrust, post them far away in some unimportant role, and build a close support of men you know well. If one brick in this tower crumbles the whole thing could fall so easily.’
Dionysus rose. ‘We have been absent for time enough. I will be missed before long. We should return to the party and enjoy ourselves for the rest of the night. I suggest we leave in a staggered manner at counts of one hundred, and do not meet for the rest of the night if we can avoid it.’
Their host went first, leaving the rest of them in the room together. Dionysus frowned deeply for the count of a hundred, clearly considering the extreme danger of his particular part in Severus’ plan. When he departed, Nicomedes spent some time with an unreadable expression before he too rose and left. Severus and Cestius shared a nod a moment later, and the frumentarius was the next to depart, leaving Rufinus alone with the governor.
‘You know that this is the only real option.’
Rufinus tried to find an argument, but he’d spent the count of three hundred so far already ruling out other possibilities. Severus was simply, harshly, horribly right: the only way to bring about the chamberlain’s downfall without repercussions was to turn the public against him, and however that was done it would cause hurt to the people. He didn’t like it, but the chances of him coming up with a viable alternative were infinitesimally small. In the end, he nodded.
‘And it will be difficult,’ Severus added. ‘Centuries of Roman administration and organisation have been put in place purely to make sure the grain dole is safe and uninterrupted. It will take time and ingenuity. But when it is done, we will have cut a cancer out of Rome. We do the work of the gods, Rufinus,’ Severus said with a sigh, as he rose and made his own way to the door.
Rufinus sat with a heavy heart and watched him go.
Quite.
But which gods?
Chapter Six – The Horseman
Rome, October 187 A.D.
The visitor was unexpected after three months.
Three months of wondering what Severus was planning. Three months of not seeing anyone else involved in the conspiracy. Three months of wondering what would be expected of him when the time came and the plan unfolded. Three months of tension and worry.
And then this.
‘Show him in, Philip,’ Rufinus said to the centurion with the red hair. He had not only become used to the strange foibles of this man, but had come to very much rely upon him. Clearly Philip had all-but run the Misenum fleet for almost a decade now, serving under three entirely useless, greedy, narcissistic and almost entirely absent prefects. Whether he was relieved to have a boss who actually took an interest in his role or was perhaps peeved at a boss who interfered Rufinus couldn’t say, and the centurion was smart enough not to let anything on.
Philip bowed and stepped out and Septimius Severus, Governor of Gallia Lugdunensis and loyal servant of empire, strolled in as though out for a morning stroll and with nothing of import on his mind.
‘Governor,’ Rufinus acknowledged and rose from his seat to shake Severus’ hand.
‘Prefect.’ Severus stood in place until the door shut behind him, and they heard the footsteps of Philip crossing the courtyard back to his own office. The governor took Rufinus’ hand in his tight grasp and then sank into a seat. ‘How secure is your office?’
‘Perfectly,’ Rufinus replied. ‘I’ve tested everything thoroughly. Even when a man sings in here you have to be standing within ten feet of the door to hear it. And I have standing orders that all activity is kept twenty paces from my office so that I can get work done. The courtyard is open and square, so no one can lurk nearby unnoticed, and Philip’s window looks out across the open to here, so he can see if anyone is breaking the rules.’
‘And you’re sure of Philip? You’re sure of everyone upon whom you rely?’
Rufinus nodded. ‘Philip is a Christian. I know. Strange. I never expected to find one in the army, but he seems perfectly happy to bow to the statue of the emperor and he’s bloody good at his job, so I have no issue with him. But talking things through with him, it seems that one of the tenets of his faith is something about not lying and always seeking to do right. I’m not sure how that sits with the fact that I keep catching him belting seven shades of shit out of a soldier for a minor infraction, but he has vowed his loyalty, and I know he is personally disgusted with the chamberlain. Believe me, Governor, since the party I have been working through the fleet, putting everything in order. Anyone who has even the remotest connection with Cleander has been shifted to a position in Misenum, safely out of the way, and two men who I had particular reason to distrust have been cross-promoted to a more senior post in the Ravenna fleet across the other side of the peninsula. I’ve been very careful, and I’ve been quite thorough. I have, after all, had three months to do it. I had hoped we’d be moving by now.’
Severus nodded. ‘Glad to hear you’ve got things under control. Similar surgeries have been undertaken by the other prefects and even in my own administration. So you believe we are safe to talk openly?’
‘We are. Why the delay. What is the plan?’
‘Slowly and carefully, Rufinus. Precipitous movement lands men in trouble. I have things being moved into place, and I have an extra notion which I have begun to act upon. But to leap feet first into something as dangerous as this would be disastrous. And that is why I am here.’
‘Oh?’
It had been a surprise to see Severus here after the man had been so adamant that the conspirators not associate, but it hadn’t occurred to him yet what had driven Severus to break his own rule. Now Rufinus could see something in the man’
s eyes. Something worrying. Something dangerous that was causing tension even to the Lion of Leptis sitting opposite him.
‘Certain acquaintances of ours came into the hands of the Praetorians this morning.’
Rufinus’ heart skipped a beat. Dionysus? Nicomedes? Surely not Vibius Cestius?
‘Two senators, along with sundry accomplices. Antistius Burrus and Arrius Antoninus.’
Rufinus felt a moment’s heady relief that it was not the men involved in their own circle of conspiracy, but that was swiftly swept aside as he realised that they had all been at the warehouse meeting together. Rufinus and Severus had attended along with all those men who sought Cleander’s downfall.
‘Shit’
‘Succinctly put,’ Severus replied. ‘I warned them against such precipitous acts. They moved too fast and without sufficient care. It seems that both the senators and a nephew had been trying to expand the web of their conspiracy, drawing in men who had access to Cleander to prepare for an assassination. Someone said the wrong thing to the wrong person. Word of their plans reached a man called Decimus Curtius, who dropped the information into the lap of the prefect of the Urban Cohorts. He, Seius Fuscianus, conspired immediately with Cleander’s favourite Praetorian prefect, and they had the senators arrested forthwith.’
‘Will they name names?’
Severus shrugged. ‘It is highly likely. All we can hope is that they are too busy under torture selling out those men who are actually involved in their plot to get to those of us who once just happened to be at a meeting with them. And if our names happen to crop up and we ourselves are brought in, we are in the best of positions as we have all been perfectly open and clean. None of us have met – until now – and none of us have moved against anyone. The chamberlain’s spies will be able to confirm to him that we have had nothing to do with the senators or their ilk. Much is now down to either chance or the determination and strength of those men under interrogation. I suggest you expend all your spare coin on offerings to the gods, praying that our names go unspoken.’
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