by Geoff Fabron
They streamed into St Ignatius Square and past the cathedral that dominated the city. They chanted slogans that demanded wage increases, opposed the austerity laws, and questioned the parenthood of the city governor. Opposite the cathedral was the governors’ mansion with a double line of auxiliaries ten feet in front of the wall surrounding it. Another twenty feet in front of the troops was a white line. The local radical leadership and the commander of the city auxiliary cohort had come to a tacit agreement that provided demonstrations did not turn violent and remained behind the white line, the troops would not interfere. It was a policy that had worked during numerous industrial conflicts over the past few years and there was no reason for either side to think that it would be any different today.
Still chanting, the crowd slowed down and came to a halt behind the white line. Radical activists ensured that those behind did not push the front of the crowd over the line, whilst others kept an eye on the known 'hot heads'. They had all done this many times before and knew the procedure as well as the auxiliaries opposite them knew theirs. A number of packing boxes had been carried along with the demonstrators and these were now stacked to form an impromptu platform in front of the entrance to the mansion. Leo Laetus leapt up onto the boxes and was greeted by the crowd. He acknowledged their cheers and waved his arms to get their attention.
Leo Laetus was a thick set man with a mop of black hair. A miner for over twenty years before becoming a full time party activist, he was a natural speaker and shrewd negotiator, who never missed an opportunity to take advantage of a situation. The package of laws passed the previous week in Constantinople had been received with mixed feelings by the workers of Tarraco. The improved education and pension provisions were much applauded, but there was an outcry against the austerity provisions. The factory and mine owners had already announced wage cuts to compensate for the higher taxes and lower prices.
Despite being a lifelong member of the radicals, Laetus was not dogmatic in his politics. He knew all about give and take from the years he had spent fighting with the bosses to get his people decent working conditions. He could read between the lines and saw the compromises and deals that had taken place to put together the coalition of parties that had enabled these laws to be passed, laws he knew were needed. Yet he also knew that the people of Tarraco - his people - would not expect him to accept the wage cuts without a fight – or at least a lot of noise.
So Leo Laetus had arranged the demonstration. He planned to extract a few minor concessions from the factory and mine owners, just enough to placate his people. The first step was to get the governor to order the factory and mine owners to the negotiating table, and to put pressure on them to compromise. Laetus had not met the new governor, as he had only arrived at the end of January, but expected him to take the easy option and lean on the bosses. After all, he reasoned, it was easier to persuade a few dozen patrician equals, dependent upon government patronage to change their mind, than it was several thousand plebeians with relatively little to lose.
"Fellow workers!" Laetus had a deep voice and it carried well across the square. "We've come here today, to deliver a message to our noble governor, and that message is NO WAGE CUTS!"
The crowd took up the war cry. "NO CUTS! NO CUTS!"
Laetus waited for the chants to subside before continuing. "We demand that the governor call a meeting of the commercial council to discuss the unilateral changes to the people’s wages."
Other activists took their cue to start a new chant. "WE WANT THE GOVERNOR! WE WANT THE GOVERNOR!" The crowd loyally took up the cry, with Leo Laetus leading them.
Once he was happy that the crowd would continue the chanting without him. Laetus stepped down from the make shift platform and flanked by two other radical officials walked across to where the auxiliaries had been waiting, their rifles at rest but with short swords fixed. The tribune in charge of the auxiliary cohort stepped forward with two of his junior officers to meet the three men.
"That was a short speech for you Leo," said the tribune amiably. Laetus smiled back and shook the soldiers hand.
"Short and to the point, Rufius." Laetus replied. Like Leo Laetus, Rufius Gallicus had been born and breed in Tarraco, and despite being on opposite sides during the regular outbreaks of industrial conflict that had plagued the area, they had developed a friendly, working relationship. They respected the role that the other performed in the city and worked to ensure that emotionally charged situations did not get out of hand.
"Is our great and illustrious governor at home today?" enquired Laetus, "If he is, please inform him that a delegation from the radical party, representing the workers of the factories and mines of this great city would like a few moments of his precious time."
"He's home, but I'm not sure he wants to speak to you." The tribune turned to look up at the gate house that was the entrance to the mansion. A number of armed men were visible along the top and at the windows. Unlike his auxiliaries facing the demonstrators these men had their weapons ready and aimed at the crowd.
Laetus followed the tribunes gaze. He studied the men in the gate house and noticed others along the length of wall that surrounded the mansion. "I don't recognise them or their uniforms." he said to the tribune. "Who are they?"
"The new governor brought them with him. Personnel bodyguards from Macedonia."
The auxiliary commander was obviously disgusted. "Bunch of brainless apes, most of them. If they had turned up here without the governor I would've had them thrown into jail."
"Doesn't he trust you to protect him?" Laetus was shocked. He knew Gallicus to be a loyal and professional soldier, and this insult to his fellow citizens’ integrity offended him.
The tribune turned back to view the crowd, still calling for the governor. "Apparently, he prefers to have his 'own people' around him."
"You mean other Greeks, don't you." said Laetus, beginning to sum up the character of Basil Diogenates, their new city governor.
The tribune gave a non-committal shrug. "I'll go and see him Leo, and explain that it is in the best interests of the city that he meets with you."
Laetus thanked Rufius and returned behind the white line. The conversation between them had been overheard by those in the front of the crowd and it was soon being repeated and circulated around the square. Rufius Gallicus gained entrance to the mansion and went to see the governor.
Basil Diogenates was glad that the tribune had come to see him. It saved him the job of sending for him. The auxiliary officer was shown into the office and saluted the governor who was sitting behind a desk. He started to speak.
"Governor, there is a delegation outside who...."
"I know there's a rabble outside tribune! I am not deaf!" Diogenates stood up and went around the desk to stand in front of the soldier, who was still standing at attention.
"What I want to know, tribune," he pronounced the officers title slowly, spitting out each syllable, "is what you're going to do about it!"
Gallicus was taken aback. "Do Governor?"
"Yes, DO tribune! Disperse them and arrest the ring leaders! I shall brook no insurrection whilst I am governor of this city!"
Gallicus felt a wave of panic building up inside him. "With all due respect Governor, I can't recommend that as a course of action. If you would just meet with them and..."
"I'M IN CHARGE HERE TRIBUNE!" the governor screamed. Standing beside the auxiliary officer, Diogenates spoke slowly into his ear. "I want you to go back out there and tell that bunch of trouble makers to disperse. If they don't you will order your men to open fire. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes governor," the tribunes mouth felt dry and he coughed to clear his throat, "but I must point out that under the law, we can't fire on civilians unless we are attacked or a state of emergency exists."
The governor smiled at Gallicus, and that smile sent a cold shiver through the tribunes body. "Is that what's bothering you? Don't worry I can guarantee there will be plenty of witnesses t
o swear on the Holy Scriptures that they fired first. Isn't that right Anton?"
The last remark was addressed to a man who had been slouched in a chair in the corner throughout the governors tirade against Gallicus. He was in the same uniform as the other personal guards but he wore the insignia of a primus pilus, the chief centurion of a legion. Rufius Gallicus looked him over and his experienced military eye soon told him that this man had never served in the army let alone risen to the most coveted and respected position that an ordinary soldier could attain.
He was a big, tough looking man with a stubble beard, untidy hair and a dishevelled uniform. He looked over towards Rufius Gallicus.
"Absolutely boss - I mean governor", he said in a manner that made it clear that whatever Basil Diogenates said was fine by him.
"Of course," added the governor "if you don't feel up to it, Anton can always take over your command."
"That will not be necessary governor," replied Gallicus quickly. "I shall deal with it myself." He saluted and left the room as fast as he could without breaking into a run. One of those animals take over his cohort, not bloody likely! He had to get Leo to disperse his people before this moron who had been appointed governor started a massacre.
Basil Diogenates smiled smugly to himself as he watched the tribune leave the office. He was a distant cousin of the Emperor, from a branch of the family generally kept at a distance. They owned some mines in the mountains of Macedonia, and treated their work force like slaves, with a private army to keep the workers and local towns in line. When he had been in his late teens, Alexander had met his cousin whilst travelling around the provinces as part of his general education. Basil had introduced the young Alexander to some of the more depraved vices that were available to those with money and influence. From then on, whenever Alexander felt oppressed by his father’s influence he would take himself off to Northern Macedonia for a few weeks of decadence with Cousin Basil.
Now that Alexander sat upon the throne in Constantinople, Basil saw the opportunity to increase his fortune. As soon as he heard that the governorship of the rich city of Tarraco was vacant he imposed upon his cousin to appoint him to the post. He intended to run the city and its attached lands in the same manner as his own holdings in Macedonia and had even brought a hundred of his own men with him.
Diogenates moved over to the windows overlooking the yard between the mansion and the gate house. He could hear the demonstrators, still chanting their demand to see him. He watched Gallicus march through the gate to rejoin his men.
He turned back to Anton. "I'm not sure that our tribune really understands how to deal with such people, I think that we should keep a closer eye on what is happening in the square." The governor left the room followed by the leader of his bodyguards.
On rejoining his men outside the mansion Gallicus called Laetus over. He explained that the governor refused to meet him and that he had been ordered to disperse the crowd. Laetus was incredulous.
"He's mad! Where does he think he is." Laetus was turning red with fury and began to shake with anger. "We won't let some petty Greek tyrant come here and treat the people of this city like slaves!" he shouted.
Gallicus pleaded with Laetus. "Please Leo, get your people away from here! This isn't the time or place for a confrontation. Please believe me!"
The desperation in the tribunes voice gave Laetus cause to hesitate. He took a few deep breaths and forced himself to calm down. He looked at Gallicus and saw fear in his eyes. That decided him.
"All right Rufius, I'll get them to disperse. It won't be easy, but they'll listen to me."
Gallicus relaxed and let out a sigh of relief. He was about to thank Laetus when a group of men appeared beside him. It was Anton with half a dozen of the governors’ bodyguards.
"Is this the ring leader?" snapped Anton, pointing at Laetus.
Gallicus did not speak. He just stood there, seeing the situation that he thought he had just defused about to explode. Laetus replied for him.
"I am Leo Laetus, elected spokesman for the miners and workers of...."
"You're under arrest for plotting an insurrection. Seize him!” The bodyguards moved forward and grabbed a startled Laetus. One of his colleagues who had come forward with him moved to protest and was smashed to the ground by a rifle butt. A growl of anger rose up from the front of the crowd after witnessing their leader being taken and one of their people being attacked. The bodyguards levelled their guns and fed a round into the firing chamber. All along the line auxiliaries grasped their weapons tightly in response to the growing hostility in front of them. Gallicus snapped out of the trance he had been in and stepped in front of Anton.
"What the hell do you think you are doing!" he said, using the tone he reserved when speaking to a subordinate who had just done something exceptionally stupid. "This man has done nothing illegal."
The leader of the governors’ guards was not at all intimidated. He looked at the tribune with scorn. "The boss was right," he sneered, "you haven't got the stomach to deal with problems like this." He stared straight into the tribunes’ eyes and smiled. "You are dismissed from command of this cohort and placed under arrest for disobeying orders." he said.
Two more bodyguards stepped forward and took hold of the dumbfounded Gallicus, removing his handgun and sword. The cohorts’ chief centurion came over on seeing his commander being taken by the bodyguards.
"What's going on here!" the centurion demanded.
"The tribune is under arrest on the orders of the governor," stated Anton, "I have been appointed to command this cohort in his place. Do you understand centurion?"
The disbelieving centurion looked to his tribune for guidance. Gallicus nodded sadly. "Play along for now," he said, "I don't want you getting into trouble as well."
Gallicus could see his chief centurion fighting an impulse to break his vine staff over Antons head, but to Gallicus's relief he took his advice. The centurion came to attention and saluted Gallicus. "As you order tribune." He said pointedly, restricting his defiance to words. He turned back to Anton, but did not say a word, just gave him a stare that conveyed an unspoken threat.
Anton decided that this was not the time to deal with the chief centurion as well. He could wait until later. The bodyguards hustled Laetus and Gallicus inside the mansion. Anton signalled somebody in the gate house and a voice boomed out of a loud speaker.
"ATTENTION! THIS IS AN ILLEGAL GATHERING. YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES TO VACATE THE SQUARE. ANYONE STILL IN THE SQUARE AFTER THAT WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT!"
The shocked crowd immediately reacted to the announcement. Mothers grabbed hold of their children and started to drag them away, whilst others started shouting curses and blasphemies at the mansion. Somebody threw a stone at the gate house and others followed. The auxiliaries looked to their officers for orders, but they just told them to hold their position. A few stray stones flew amongst the troops but the gate house and the bodyguards were their main target.
Anton scurried behind the line of auxiliaries for protection from the stones. He turned to the chief centurion.
"Open fire!" he shouted to be heard above the roar of the crowd.
The chief centurion looked at him in disgust and then walked over to the nearest century. He spoke to the centurion in charge who barked out an order. The front rank brought up their rifles, loaded and on command fired a volley into the sky, well above the heads of the demonstrators in the square. The shots reverberated around the square and the crowd turned and fled. Luckily the roads leading into the square were wide and the space in front of the mansion rapidly emptied.
Anton looked at the chief centurion. He was seething with anger. A stone had caught his ear and the pain fed his fury. He screamed at the centurion. "SHOOT AT THEM YOU IDIOT! KILL SOME OF THE BASTARDS!"
The chief centurion gave him one more look of disgust and turned back to his men. He ordered them to make their weapons safe and stand at ease. Anton put his hand to his ear, blood was trickling d
own the side of his face and his head was throbbing. He turned and looked up at the gate house. Some bodyguards were still there, and they were watching him. He pointed toward the retreating crowd, still making their way out of the square.
"FIRE!" he screamed, "SHOOT BEFORE THEY ALL GET AWAY."
The bodyguards did not need to be told twice. Shooting unarmed civilians was something they were used to doing back in Macedonia, and it had been a while since they had had so many targets. First it was a few scattered shots and then a continuous hail of bullets spat from the guns of the governors men to rip into the helpless mass of flesh struggling to escape from the square. Men and women went down, the bullets inflicting horrific wounds on their bodies. Some found cover by lying on the ground, others by cowering in the entrances of shops around the square. One group ran to the massive doors of the cathedral and hammered to be let in, but the bodyguards spotted them and turned their fire towards them. A dozen or more men and women fell to the guards bullets before the doors swung open to allow the survivors to find sanctuary.
The auxiliaries stood and stared in horror, muttering cry's of disbelief. Some crossed themselves whilst others looked away, a few vomited as they saw the butchery that a bullet does to the human body. Eventually the firing stopped as the last of the crowd fled from the square into the surrounding streets or the safety of nearby buildings. The only sounds were the sobs and moans of the wounded and the laughter of the men in the gate house.
The chief centurion swallowed hard, and the bile in his stomach made his mouth taste foul. He barked out an order.
"Medics and all first aid trained men! Fall out and give aid to the wounded."
All along the line, men handed their rifles to another and ran towards the bodies that lay scattered around the square, whilst stretchers appeared from the cohorts’ medical section. The chief centurion turned to look at the face of the new cohort commander, standing facing the carnage in the square, nursing his bloody ear. Anton gave the centurion a cold look and a cruel smile before walking back to the gate house.
