The King of Rome

by Francis Mulhern

  “People he’s paid off” said Javenoli, his mind thinking how much of the gold used for the deed was his own from their previous agreement.

  Marcus nodded his understanding before he spoke, “there must be three or four hundred of them.” Javenoli nodded as Cossus stood and called out above the heads of the crowd who were jostling once more towards the platform, several soldiers arrayed along the font beginning to receive kicks and punches from the mob as it swelled backwards and forwards.

  “These men have received payment from me to save them from enslavement from the greed of patrons who charged more interest than the capital of the loan itself. I, myself, have charged no interest as I know how we are all equal when there is no need for money, as it was when we sat with Jupiter on the Capitol Hill.”

  Marcus and Javenoli shared a glance, Marcus realising that Javenoli was right. The key to this argument was the fact that Capitolinus could invoke the fear of the god because every man was looking up at the temple of the god, their faces masked in awe and fear. They had to, somehow, end this discussion and move it to a place further away from the Capitol Hill, out of sight of the Temple itself.

  “Here are the trophies of my campaigns” called Capitolinus as carts were pushed forwards bearing swords, shields and armour from enemies he’d slain in battle. “Gifts from generals to whom I have been a faithful servant. People of Rome, tell me that I, the poor citizen who has helped every one of you to gain their liberty am guilty of any charge other than professing my love for the city, for Jupiter and you?” He switched his stance to one of supplication, turning a theatrical eye to the crowd and putting his hands together as if pleading. “If I have been chosen by the gods and by the people to be their patron, it is only because the gods have willed it to be so. If you desire to call me any other name I will bow to your commands. People of Rome, see these senators for what they are, guilty themselves of bringing to trial a man blameless in everything except his love for you.” At this juncture he turned back to face the Capitol Hill and bared his chest, the crowd now pushing forwards even more as the crescendo of noise rose even higher. He pulled at his tunic, ripping the centre to show his bare chest, long scars from battles lining his torso as he claimed to be a true servant of Rome, unlike some of those who accused him. His words set off another booming cheer from the crowd.

  “This is too dangerous. You’re not getting a chance to speak, we cannot win this” Marcus said, putting a hand on Javenoli’s shoulder and pulling him closer so he could whisper in his ear as the Pontiff raised his eyebrows in question at what he’d said, his words unheard in the deafening noise. As he did so a flash of metal whipped past Javenoli’s head, a dagger smashing into the wall behind the two men, resounding with a metallic clang. Javenoli stared in disbelief as Marcus reacted instantly and hauled him away, calling for the guards to protect them.

  Capitolinus was in full voice, his words drowned by the noise, but Marcus heard him call for the people to rise and show their strength. As he watched, Marcus saw a man appear in the crowd, another dagger glinting as he placed his left foot forward and pulled back his hand. The crowd seemed to move in slow motion, people parting as if the hand of a god had moved them aside to give the thrower the space to manoeuvre. He didn’t get a chance to throw the blade, though, as a smaller man flew into him from the side, the dagger dropping to the floor as several other men, and soldiers, appeared in front of the platform, Narcius’ voice calling for order and the old centurion, Vetto, wading into the crowd to stamp on the hand of the man who was crawling towards the dagger he’d dropped. Capitolinus continued to bark orders before Marcus took up a place on the front of the platform and grabbed the bell from the cowering Iulius. Thrashing the bell until the clapper, literally fell off in his hand, he called for silence. The people at the front of the platform were doing one of two things, either trying to turn and run or stepping forward as if to fight the thin line of soldiers that stood in front of the senators.

  “Romans” called Marcus. “You know me” he shouted, faces turning towards him. “Is this the future you want? Fighting in our own Forum.” He turned an angry glare to Capitolinus. “Is this what he has promised you?” he called as Capitolinus smiled back and turned a face towards the Capitol Hill.

  “Jupiter is with you” he called. “I will lead you if you choose me” he said loudly.

  Marcus threw the useless bell to the floor. “Arrest him” he called to Narcius, as the centurion waved to three men, who leapt onto the platform built by Capitolinus. “People of Rome, let your own plebeian tribunes judge this man. If he is innocent let them decide with us. There can be only one outcome if we fight each other. Look at this” he screamed as he raised his hands and opened them towards the crowd. “Why are we fighting when there is a new future for everyone. Rome is growing” he called as Narcius and one of his men started a hand to hand fight with Capitolinus’ bodyguards. “We must stand together. The Tribunes will judge Capitolinus; plebeians and patricians together.”

  “Jupiter will judge me” called the accused as he tried to headbutt Narcius, the centurion side-stepping the attempt.

  The sound of blades being drawn from scabbards and the blare of a military horn caused people to stop and stare, heads turning in fear. Marcus took the sudden change in action to call even more loudly, his throat hurting as he tried to shout above the noise of the crowd. “Jupiter, Juno, Fortuna and Mater Matuta have been our favoured gods, people of Rome. They all stand there on the Capitol and they all look down on us here today. Do they fight as we fight?” people turned heads towards the Hill.

  Javenoli leant forwards and whispered, quickly, “tell them that a tyrant sits on a citadel, Marcus. Tell them they need…” but his words disappeared in the noise of the crowd.

  The soldiers who had arrived began to march into the Forum, people scattering in all directions as they were simply pushed aside by the approaching men, whom Marcus recognised as his own eagles. “Listen to your tribunes, people of Rome. Listen to what they have to say, and we will know the truth of this matter. Is it not truth that you seek? Here are your tribunes, listen to their words.”

  Capitolinus was calling them all liars, his voice indistinct as it mingled with the din of the mob. People backed away as he called, again, on Jupiter to save him from the patricians and their lies. “Move them out” shouted Marcus, his mind running through options. “The Peletine Grove. We will restart this trial at the Peletine grove he shouted as Narcius man-handled Capitolinus to the floor and several men surrounded the captive.

  ************

  Chapter 44

  Istros rubbed his head, the pounding making his eyes water. He felt sick, as if he was on a boat bobbing up and down on the tide. “What happened?” he asked, his eyes blinking.

  “You saved the general” said a voice.

  “Who?”

  “Camillus. Saved him when you threw yourself at that assassin. What’s your name friend?” asked the man who was holding one end of a stretcher on which the Thracian was lying.

  He closed his eyes again and swallowed, putting his hand to his head once more and feeling a large wet patch, which surrounded a lump the size of a hen’s egg. He groaned and winced, gaining a chuckle from the stretcher carrier.

  “You’ll live” said the soldier, seeing Istros looking at his blood-stained fingers. “I’ve had worse” he said dismissively.

  “Istros” he replied, “that’s my name.”

  “Well Istros, the lad’s will remember that name tonight when we have a few drinks, and you’re welcome to join us” replied the man.

  “What happened to the trial?” he asked quietly.

  “The lads moved the crowd off towards the Peletine grove. It’s all going to start again there later” he smiled.

  “But the other assassin. Did they get Auguronos?” said Istros.

  “Aug what?” asked the soldier, pulling a face which suggested he had no idea what he’d just heard.

  Istros tried to m
ove, to get off the stretcher, but his head pounded as if his brains were trying to exit through his eyeballs.

  ********

  “You have no reason to hold me as a prisoner” demanded Capitolinus, his hands bound behind his back.

  Narcius glowered at him but said nothing. The retinue had reached the grove, people starting to spread out into the slightly sloping undergrowth which surrounded a natural bowl, and a place where plays were often rehearsed by some of the wandering poets. Cossus appeared and busied himself calling chairs forwards and moving the crowd back where he felt they were too close for comfort after the scenes at the Forum. Soldiers ringed the central area where Capitolinus sat on the ground, each man watching the crowds like a hawk.

  “You have no right to hold me prisoner” shouted Capitolinus again.

  Cossus looked across and waved to Narcius, “cut his bonds, we don’t need to hold him now.” Narcius did as he was ordered and watched as Capitolinus rubbed at his wrists before standing and searching the slopes for faces he might know. The plebeian champion then marched across towards Cossus, until Narcius and another soldier barred his path. Cossus pointed toward three chairs, set facing two further rows of chairs.

  “There” he snapped, pointing to an area of ground to the right, before turning back to order others to continue moving furniture to the appropriate locations.

  Shortly the senate arrived followed by the six plebeian tribunes, Sicinius and Menenius amongst them. Capitolinus frowned, his anger growing as he watched the men sit across from him. As he waited nobody came and joined him in the two spare seats which faced the senators. Javenoli arrived, his face hidden under a white hood. After a few minutes he began to complete the sacrifices which would mark the official beginning of the trial, asking the gods to look at this place as worthy for the men to conduct affairs of state. Of course, the sacrifice was declared acceptable and the gods happy with the choice.

  As silence fell into the grove Cossus stood and turned to the crowd, his anger clear for all to see. “People of Rome, we stand here under the eyes of all the gods of the sacred triumvirate, with the blessing of the gods of the earth, sky and water to hear the conclusion of this case against Marcus Manlius Capitolinus.”

  “I am guilty of nothing, as Jupiter has said” came the shout from Capitolinus, his right arm raised but his eyes turning left and right, searching for support. From here he could not see the Capitol Hill. Jupiter was being denied to him. He scowled in anger. “This is a mockery” he called in sudden realisation at what they had done.

  “Silence, Marcus Manlius. You have had your say. Now it is time for the plebeian tribunes to speak and for the senate and the people of Rome to make our decision.” Roared Cossus, his ire now boiling over.

  Capitolinus stood and stepped forward but was blocked by a soldier who moved, quickly, to intercept him. He returned to his seat and started to think how he could handle the crowd with the words that Sicinius and Menenius would surely utter. He stared at Javenoli, the time for him to spill his secrets was surely coming. Javenoli would have to help him or he’d suffer too. As he sat looking at the plebeian tribunes with disgust written across his face, Javenoli stood and moved forwards, turning to address the crowd.

  “People of Rome. You have heard the accusations against Capitolinus. Firstly, that he has accused unnamed senators of stealing gold from the Temple of Jupiter. Secondly that he has incited the violence which has seen fires raging through all your homes over recent months. Thirdly, that he plans to set himself up as a new king, a dictator for life over all of us.” At this many of the voices in the crowd hissed and set to muttering. Capitolinus stared ahead, ignoring the sound. “You’ve heard his words and seen the actions they’ve provoked” continued Javenoli, his voice easily heard throughout the grove where the people of Rome sat and listened. “We will ask him to name these men who have stolen this Gallic gold, then we will listen to the plebeian tribunes, they have an interesting tale to tell” he said with a glance to Capitolinus which set the crowd to murmuring again. “So, Marcus Manlius Capitolinus, in sight of all the gods, name those men who have stolen Gallic gold for their own personal benefit, and give us” he lifted an arm and waved it across towards the crowd “proof of this theft so that we can properly punish all who have stolen what rightfully belongs to the gods. Name them now or be accused, yourself, of using trickery to addle the minds of the people, to turn them against their neighbours.”

  Capitolinus stood and ground his teeth as he turned a cold eye to Javenoli. “Those men know who they are, they know what they have done” he said, flailing an arm towards the Pontiff.

  “So, you cannot name them, and you have no proof?” called Javenoli as he walked in a circle.

  “You know who they are. They know who they are. Jupiter knows who they are.”

  “Then name them Capitolinus and we will call them here” he pointed to a spot on the ground by his feet “and accuse them. Name them” he said in a flat tone, “and give us the proof that you have claimed you’ve had all these months that you’ve seditiously claimed patricians have been guilty of this crime.”

  Capitolinus stared at Javenoli, his anger flaring his nostrils as he breathed deeply. Javenoli was waiting, expecting the man to accuse him. Capitolinus was motionless as he continued to stare at the Pontiff, his mind running through what he might say. “It is for the gods to punish them for their misdemeanours, not for me. They know who they are, and they should show…”

  Javenoli spoke over him, flustering the defendant. “You cannot name them” he called. “You say that these men should come forward, so I ask any man who knows of these crimes to stand now, to call out the names of those he accuses and to provide proof of such treachery.” His arms rose again as he turned to the left and right.

  “They will not speak” shouted Capitolinus.

  “You have had your chance to speak Capitolinus. You have brought forward no proof that any gold has gone missing from the Temple of Jupiter.”

  “Gold has been taken” cried Capitolinus, his face turning red.

  “Then where is it, who has it. Where is the proof?” A silence stretched as the two men stood at an impasse, Javenoli with hands holding his toga at his chest and Capitolinus with arms crossed over his own. “Tell us Marcus Manlius, why you have incited the people to rise against the state” asked Javenoli suddenly, turning his back on Capitolinus as he finished.

  With a smile the reply came quickly. “I have spoken of the injustices for the plebeian clans, of the debts that they face and the hardships they have to live with as patricians grow richer on their labours. It is time that they asked questions of the state, challenged the status quo…..”

  “So, you did not incite individuals to violence? You were not behind the burning of grain stores, of boats in the harbour, of attacking men in the streets to silence those who spoke against you?” Javenoli called, cutting out Capitolinus’ speech. “You have no knowledge of secret meetings, at your house, which discussed how you would overthrow the state and you would become king?” He shouted this last word, the crowd muttering at the word.

  “Lies” shouted Capitolinus in return. “The senate make me out to be….” He started to say as he turned to the crowd and raised his right fist as if to invoke the gods.

  “Bring the prisoner” called Javenoli, silencing Capitolinus.

  All heads turned to the right to watch three guards dragging a heavily beaten man to the centre of the grove. Dried blood was caked to his face, his arms covered in bruises, his arms bound to his chest as if it had been broken.

  “What is this?” said Capitolinus.

  Javenoli stepped up to the man as he was thrown to the floor by the guards, metal hand and leg cuffs clinking from thick iron bonds as he hit the ground. Many of the crowd looked at the floor in sadness to see a free-born man in such a state. “This, people of Rome, is the hero of Satricum. A man whom we all proclaimed a saviour, a man who was saved by Capitolinus from debts” at which he po
inted to the defendant. “This man had sworn that he was ordered by…”

  “Lies” screamed Capitolinus stepping forward and being blocked by the soldier again. The crowd sighed and sucked in a collective breath at the sight of Brevo, their hero.

  Javenoli looked up at Capitolinus and half-smiled. “This man has sworn that he was given instructions by you” again he turned and pointed at Capitolinus. “To murder in your name as the king of Rome, a tyrant bent on absolute power” he shouted as the crowd jumped to their feet calling out angrily.

  “Lies” cried Capitolinus.

  “To butcher innocent plebeians in their beds” continued Javenoli.

  “This is all lies” screamed Capitolinus.

  “And he has confirmed that you ordered the murder of senator Cincinnatus, to hide the debts that you, and he” he thrust an arm towards Brevo, “owed to the man.”

  Capitolinus gawped at Javenoli for a second before he turned to the crowd.

  “He, Gaius Javenoli, stole the gold from the temples. It is he and Camillus that have taken what you….”

  The crowd were now staring in disbelief at Capitolinus as he barked out his accusations, voices raised in anger at what they had heard. “Ah, at last we have an accusation” shouted Javenoli, waving to Marcus to return to his seat as he had risen in protest at the use of his name. “People of Rome, at last we have an accusation against those men who have stolen your gold from the temples. It seems it was Camillus and myself” he raised his arms and stared at the crowd, in wide-eyed shock. “How strange that now he is accused himself that he now names those that accuse him of being the thieves. This man has tricked us all.” He pointed to Brevo, who remained slumped on the floor. “This man has confirmed” and with this he turned to wave to another man, who stepped forwards with a large cloth sack “that it was, in fact, Marcus Manlius Capitolinus who stole gold from the temples and he used this…”