The Last Caesar

by The Last Caesar (retail) (epub)

  The day of the trial came. Milo’s century was put on parade, while other men from the legion hung around the edges of the square, waiting to see what would happen. I say it was a trial, but it was a foregone conclusion. The centurion gave his evidence, and poor Milo again offered his excuse. Raised voices could be heard behind us, and everyone looked to see what the commotion was.

  A bulging man sat astride a decidedly unimpressed horse. His toga strained to cover his enormous girth and was so covered in sweat that it seemed to cling to his skin. He was waving a letter in the air, and shouting my name.

  ‘Where is the Legate Severus? I must see him.’ Glad to put off sentencing Milo, even if it was only for a few minutes, I approached the globular rider.

  ‘I am Severus, what do you want?’

  He leaned down from the saddle, proffering the small scroll. ‘My letter of introduction, if you like.’

  Yet again this letter carried the imperial seal. What was it now? I broke the seal, and began to read it, silently.

  The man before you is Aulus Vitellius. He is the younger son of the ex-consul Lucius Vitellius, and has inherited none of his father’s qualities. There is no man I fear less than one who thinks of nothing but food, so I am happy to appoint him as the new governor of Lower Germania. In his gluttony he will milk the province for all it is worth, but he should pose no threat, I think.

  Thank you for your letters, Severus. Verginius Rufus has joined me at Massilia, and I have decided to appoint him to my council for the time being. You were right; he seems a remarkably honest man, if a little bumbling. You have done him a great service.

  With Flaccus and now Vitellius on the Rhine, you should have no problem in keeping Germania loyal.

  The letter was signed ‘Galba Augustus Caesar’. So much for the end of the Caesar dynasty.

  ‘Is everything in order, Legate?’ Vitellius asked.

  Smiling broadly, I replied that everything was indeed in order, and pocketed the letter. The bulbous man looked around and caught sight of Milo, standing alone in front of his century.

  ‘What’s going on here?’

  ‘This man awaits sentence for falling asleep at his post.’

  ‘And what is the sentence?’

  ‘Ten of his comrades are chosen by lot, and must beat the man to death with nothing but their hands.’

  Vitellius blanched. Then he beckoned me over for a private word. My cheeks burned as the men watched Vitellius summon me as though he were the man in charge here, and not me. It made me look like a naughty boy called to the front of the class.

  ‘Don’t you think the punishment a bit steep?’

  ‘Milo fell asleep on sentry duty, Governor, while we were on manoeuvres beyond the Rhine. My hands are tied.’

  ‘Look, I know it’s not my place to interfere, but it wouldn’t hurt to show some mercy.’

  Before I could stop him, Vitellius gave a sharp squeeze with his heels and urged his horse towards Milo’s century. He raised his voice so all could hear.

  ‘My name is Aulus Vitellius, the new governor of Lower Germania. I have spoken with your commander, and he has kindly agreed to indulge me and show this man mercy. I do not condone the crime, but then I have no wish to see one Roman killed at the hands of other Romans. So the sentence is commuted. He shall lose all his privileges and be transferred to an auxiliary unit, but he shall live.’

  An ear-splitting cheer rent the air, as the entire century waved their spears in a salute to the merciful Vitellius. Even the men who watched from the barracks began to chant Vitellius’s name. The huge man smiled meekly, and pulled at his horse’s reins, heading back towards me.

  ‘My thanks, Legate.’

  I was inwardly seething. I had planned to grant Milo mercy at the last minute, going by the book all this time only for discipline’s sake, and then win the support of the legion by my clemency. Now it was Vitellius they cheered, and my heart sank. Not for the wasted opportunity, but because it seemed the men might have found a new candidate for emperor.

  * * *

  ‘The emperor must hold you in high regard, Governor, to be his first choice for a province in Germania,’ I said.

  The parade was over, the men were happy, Vitellius and I were alone. He had taken great care that none of the common soldiers were around before dismounting, so as to hide his gouty limp. It was a ridiculous sight, the flabby man hobbling towards me, like a vast ship heaving and lurching in a storm.

  ‘I must admit it was something of a surprise, but then I do have friends in high places.’

  ‘The emperor, you mean?’

  ‘No, Titus Vinius. He’s been appointed co-prefect of the Praetorian Guard, or at least he tells me he will be as soon as they reach Rome. They were only a few days’ march away when I left.’

  ‘I have heard the name. Wasn’t he close to Galba in Spain?’

  ‘That’s it. He commanded the legion there, and raised a new one for the emperor. We’re old friends. We support the same chariot team at the races, you see.’

  And now Vinius had recommended his friend to Galba as a safe pair of hands for Lower Germania. Such is the way in politics.

  ‘Is there somewhere where I can have a bite to eat? I’m famished after all this riding.’

  ‘My quarters are only a few minutes away, Governor. I can guarantee the food will be better than the muck they serve in the mess.’

  His eyes widened with interest. ‘Really? Then lead on, lead on.’

  * * *

  ‘More venison, Governor?’ my wife asked.

  ‘Don’t mind if I do. I must say, this is really most generous of you. I haven’t had a meal like this since leaving Rome.’

  I wasn’t surprised. Salonina had plied him with almost everything we had in the kitchens. It was beginning to grow dark outside.

  ‘Were there no decent taverns on the road, sir?’

  Vitellius blushed. ‘Yes, but I had a rather tight budget. I had to sell a few things to finance the journey. Truth be told, I had to rent out my house and send my family to live with my mother.’

  ‘You poor man,’ Salonina said, taking me by the arm. ‘Miles and miles away from your family.’

  ‘I’ll be all right, that is if my cooks are anything like as good as yours, dear lady.’

  ‘Would you like some wine with your meat, sir?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, just a drop. And please don’t bother with all that “sir” business. I’m a simple man, please call me Vitellius.’

  ‘Thank you, Vitellius. Would it be rude of me to ask why you took such an interest in Milo back at the camp?’

  ‘Milo?’

  ‘The soldier who was on trial.’

  ‘Ah yes. You didn’t mind me intervening, did you?’

  I did, but that was not why I asked. ‘Not at all, I was just wondering why you showed mercy to a guilty soldier from a legion outside your province.’

  ‘You’re too cynical, Severus. Is it not possible that I didn’t want to watch a man being beaten to death by his comrades? What other motive could I have?’

  Ingratiating yourself with a Rhine legion is never a bad thing, I thought, but I didn’t dare say that out loud. After all, this man by his act of seemingly genuine mercy had endeared himself far more to my men than old Flaccus ever would. After reading Galba’s letter, I prayed that Vitellius was just a compassionate man, and had no ambitions for Valens to work upon.

  ‘None at all,’ I answered. ‘It’s just a pleasant surprise to find a governor who is merciful for mercy’s sake. I suppose that’s what comes of having lived under Nero’s rule. Rome has missed good men.’

  Vitellius beamed at me. ‘That is very kind of you. You have nothing to worry about. I am not an ambitious man. Well, I’m keen to pay off my debts and enjoy the lifestyle of a governor, but that’s hardly the same thing, is it?’

  ‘I am sure that the emperor will not regret his decision to make you a governor.’

  ‘Thank you, Severus. Actually, would you
mind if I called you by your first name?’

  ‘It would be my honour, Vitellius. My friends call me Caecina.’

  ‘Caecina it is, then.’ His chair scraped across the flagstones as Vitellius raised himself from the table. ‘And now I should be on my way. I thank you once again for your hospitality.’

  His pudgy fist reached out for Salonina’s hand, and he gave it a delicate kiss. ‘My lady.’ Then he stood before me. His arms reached out and he enveloped me in a great bear hug. ‘I think we shall be very good friends, eh Caecina?’

  ‘Yes, very good friends,’ I said, feeling awkward.

  ‘Governor, you won’t cover many more miles today before you have to stop for the night. Why not stay here instead?’

  Vitellius broke off the embrace and stared at my wife, his eyes gleaming. No doubt it was the prospect of a comfortable bed and another hearty meal. Then the gleam disappeared.

  ‘My lady, you are too kind, but I shouldn’t abuse your hospitality any longer.’

  Seeing that Vitellius was only refusing out of courtesy, I said, ‘Please, I insist. What sort of people would we be if we turned out a guest into the night?’

  Vitellius didn’t take long to change his mind. ‘Oh all right, if you insist.’

  * * *

  That night Salonina and I lay in bed, talking.

  ‘Did you enjoy being the hostess tonight?’

  ‘He certainly took a lot of hosting. I’ve never seen anyone eat so much.’

  ‘It seems that’s why Galba chose him to govern such an important province. Anyone who takes that much interest in his stomach can’t have any interest left for plotting.’

  Salonina looked confused. ‘Why would Vitellius be plotting?’

  ‘Because there are tens of thousands of crack troops in Germania who have no loyalty to Galba, and are thinking how much money they could make if they convinced someone to challenge Galba for the throne. That’s why.’

  She rolled over, her beautiful face a hand’s breadth from mine. ‘And what would it mean for us?’

  ‘Us? Civil war, marching on Rome, legion fighting against legion. Do you want that?’

  ‘It sounds as though it’s coming anyway. Didn’t you tell me that Galba was a stopgap, a short-term solution? Surely every legion is going to want their governor to be the next emperor. And Vitellius has just won the gratitude of your legion.’

  I felt her leg slide over mine. She was silken to the touch. Lithely, she sprang up so that she now sat astride me.

  ‘Just imagine. If you wanted to, you could have the emperor of Rome eternally in your debt. The power, the prestige…’ She began to grind her hips into me. I was her prisoner.

  ‘I can’t. Galba has been good to me.’

  ‘Forget Galba. Think of us, think of your son. One day, he could be the most powerful man in Rome.’

  ‘Stop it.’ My arms shot out and gripped her thighs tightly.

  Her eyes widened. Then she crossed her arms over her magnificent breasts, and said, ‘If you aren’t man enough to take what you want, then you aren’t man enough for me.’ She clambered off me and lay on the far side of the bed, with her back to me.

  ‘Salonina… I can’t.’

  ‘We both know that’s not true.’

  XXI

  Everything was bitterly cold. The Rhine had frozen in places. The chilling winds bit into the skin, so much so that I started wearing a bizarre German piece of clothing that they call trousers, a piece of material that covers each leg right down to the ankles. But I had known this cold before. Nothing could prepare me for the coldness of my wife. Ever since I had told her about the opportunity that I was turning down, she had barely spoken a word to me. After a week I actively looked for things to keep me away from home. Poor Aulus was very confused. After all, we had gone from a loving couple to almost complete strangers in a matter of days.

  One particularly cold evening I was sitting in my office going through a large pile of dispatches when someone knocked at my door. I was puzzled. The working day was over, what could this person want?

  ‘Come in.’

  Totavalas stumbled in, and quickly closed the door behind him to shut out the cold. His long slave tunic did little to protect his forearms from the chilling German winter, and I let him stamp his feet and warm his hands for a moment before asking him why he had come.

  ‘A message for you, master,’ he panted, his cloudy breath swirling up before his face.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ I said testily. ‘Who from?’

  ‘I don’t know, sir.’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘Begging your pardon, sir, but I was in the town doing some errands for the mistress and I was passed this note, and told to give it to you straight away.’

  ‘Did you know the man who gave it to you?’

  ‘No, master, but he said he had come from old Bel at the tavern.’

  He handed me the grubby note, sealed with a thumbprint of wax, then stood by the small brazier I had in the corner, where a few embers were smouldering.

  The message was short. ‘This is our man. Reply by the same messenger. Valens.’

  I gave a deep sigh. I had been expecting something of the kind from Valens. Vitellius might well be a glutton, but his father had been consul three times, and even made censor, perhaps the greatest honour one can have outside the imperial family. He was down to earth, likeable and, from what I had seen, easily persuaded. But Valens needed my support if he was going to convince Vitellius to rebel against Galba, support I was not inclined to give.

  ‘Totavalas?’

  ‘Yes, master?’ The slave looked up from the brazier, his hands still outstretched.

  ‘I take it you know the position I’m in?’ I asked wearily.

  ‘If you mean deciding which side you’re on, I do, master, I do.’

  ‘What would you do if you were me?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s my place to say, master.’

  ‘Damn it, man, I’m asking you. What would you do?’

  ‘Well, sir, if I were you, I’d wait and see a bit. I mean, the emperor has been good to you, giving you this legion and all. But did you ever stop to think that by taking this job, you’re still doing him a favour, keeping the troops loyal. I think you underestimate how useful you’ve been, sir.’

  ‘But Galba is the best man for the job.’

  ‘That he is, sir, that he is. But it strikes me that once a man has been helped on to the throne, he never likes to be reminded that he needed help, which is why I’d say wait and see.’

  ‘You think I should help Vitellius?’

  ‘Ah, civil war is a mighty tragedy. It has plagued my island for as long as we can remember. But I thought you were asking what would be best for you, master?’

  ‘I flatter myself my conscience would stop me risking the lives of hundreds, maybe thousands of men, just for my own petty ambition.’

  ‘Then I’m glad it was you who bought me, master, and not Fabius Valens.’

  ‘Nicely put, Totavalas.’ One thing nagged at me. ‘How come you understand all this politics, then?’

  He grinned. ‘It must be in my blood, master.’

  ‘Your blood? You told me you were an exile.’

  ‘So I was, sir. My father was High King of all Hibernia. Then he was murdered, and my mother and I fled to Mona.’

  My body slave was barbarian royalty! That would explain the man’s confidence, but not why he had adapted to slave life so well.

  ‘I see it this way, master: when you’ve been on the battlefield, barely out of boyhood and surrounded by Roman swords and spears, you thank the gods for every day that you live afterwards. I’m alive, well looked after, and away from my enemies in Hibernia. Life could be worse.’

  I was starting to regret not having had a proper talk with Totavalas before now. Until that day I had always seen him as the ‘novelty’ I had bought from Cotta’s wife. Now it was clear he had a good head on his shoulders, and a fine sense of humour. Rare
qualities in a slave, and a barbarian one at that, but at least I was recognizing them now before I sold him on to someone else.

  My choice was simple then. Stay loyal to Galba, or follow Valens’s path

  But trouble came the next evening. You’ll remember how Galba had punished the Gauls who had stayed loyal to Rome when Vindex raised his rebellion. The new year’s taxes were fast approaching and some of these tribes sent a deputation to Mogontiacum to seek redress. There was a fever in town, and our delicate Governor Flaccus had decided to try to escape the fetid air by staying in the campsite. So it was that the delegation came to the legions that they had supported, their arms thrown wide in a gesture of supplication.

  Flaccus was very sympathetic, but what could he do? If the emperor has decided something, you can’t very well ignore his orders, especially ones as clear and as recent as his were.

  ‘I am very sorry,’ Flaccus said, ‘but I can’t help you. You were loyal to the legions, and provided all the help that could reasonably have been expected of you. But these things happen. It seems the emperor is not very forgiving of his enemies, even if you didn’t know you were his enemies at the time.’

  The head of the delegation was not satisfied. ‘And what about all the families who paid their taxes, dutifully gave your men all the supplies they needed, and as their reward have to pay even higher taxes, in the middle of winter, after a poor harvest? Mothers and fathers are starving so that their children can eat what little corn they have. Have you no conscience, no mercy?’

  Flaccus meekly shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘There is nothing I can do.’

  I coughed loudly.

  ‘Yes, Severus?’

  ‘Perhaps if these gentlemen were to find the quaestor, they could tell him that it was an extremely poor harvest and ask to default on the tax this year, then pay it back over the next two years.’