[Gaius Valerius Verrens 06] - Scourge of Rome

by Douglas Jackson

  Titus smiled. ‘A fine speech, Marcus, and a fine sentiment. It is true that, as a structure, the temple has never been surpassed, and that as a fount of their religion it can never be replaced.’ Valerius glanced towards Josephus and imagined he saw a mix of calculation and triumph on his face that vanished when the Judaean realized he was being observed. ‘You will not be surprised that I have pondered this matter, which I agree is of great importance, and that I have taken advice from the most distinguished sources.’ It seemed certain Josephus was the source Titus meant, but a titter of nervous laughter from Antonius, the youngest man present, suggested the answer might be more complex. A savage glare from Titus and a promise of violent retribution in Alexander’s stare instantly silenced the procurator. ‘If the building is protected it shows my father in a certain light: magnanimous in victory and tolerant of the Empire’s religions, which may be no bad thing. Likewise, it is of unsurpassed beauty, which immediately makes one jealous of its welfare, much as a man might attempt to preserve his finest sculpture in a fire. Yet there is another aspect, and as a military commander it would be neglectful of me not to consider it. Look out across the valley there and what do you see?’

  ‘A fortress,’ Clemens suggested.

  Titus shook his head. ‘A fortress within a fortress within a fortress. Perhaps a thousand fortresses. And it is possible that we will have to expend Roman blood to take every one. I look at Jerusalem and I see a complex defensive work of a like we have never confronted before and at its heart is the most impregnable fortress of all. The temple.’

  He paused to allow his words to make their mark. Each man’s mind turned to the puzzle that must be unlocked and every man came to the same conclusion. Titus rose from the table and drew back the curtain covering the doorway. Framed in the opening, almost as if he had planned it, was the temple.

  ‘One way or another we will take Jerusalem.’ His voice took on a stony resolve Valerius had never heard before. ‘From the information I have received, the temple will be defended to the last by these Zealot fanatics and their Sicarii allies. If that is the case, they have made their decision. It is no longer the temple, the sacred, hallowed ground of an ancient religion. It is a stronghold that is an affront and a challenge to Rome. If they choose to shed Roman blood defending it, then they and it will take the consequences. If, to save one Roman life, I must use every siege engine to batter the temple into dust I will not shrink from it; perhaps,’ his eyes turned to Valerius, ‘they may even choose to burn it themselves, and perish in the ashes. If that is the case I will grant them their wish. Go now and make your dispositions. We will convene again tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, I would ask the commanders of the Fifth, Twelfth and Fifteenth to study the western defences and form alternative plans to attack.’

  As the officers rose and filed from the tent Titus held a whispered conversation with Josephus. When Valerius went to follow them Vespasian’s son held up a hand to signal him to stay. Eventually, Josephus nodded solemnly and walked out with a glance at Valerius that was almost conspiratorial.

  When they were alone Titus sighed and rubbed his face with his hands like a weary man at the end of a long day. He turned to Valerius with a wry grin. ‘Everyone has an opinion and all must be heard,’ he complained. ‘But it is important they know I trust them and value their experience. You too have an opinion, I suspect. You are not usually quite so backward in expressing it.’

  ‘I am your guest, general. Guests don’t offer an opinion until their host demands it.’

  ‘Well? I saw your face when we were discussing the pilgrims. You think I am being harsh by insisting they stay and share the hardships of the rebels?’

  ‘No.’ Valerius shook his head. ‘I think Clemens is correct that there are risks, but if you are right those risks are worth taking.’

  ‘And the temple?’

  ‘I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t wantonly destroy anything of such beauty, but I was at Cremona, and in Rome when the Temple of Jupiter burned. War breeds complications. Men make mistakes. Orders are misunderstood. If the Judaeans defend the temple complex you have no option but to attack it. When you do, anything can happen.’

  ‘Good.’ Titus smiled, more friend now than general. ‘I’m glad you understand. You saw the Zealots this morning and at Gamala. What do you make of them?’

  Valerius met his eyes, trying to gauge the likely effect of the unpalatable truth he was about to utter. Eventually he said: ‘I think you will have to wade knee-deep through blood to take Jerusalem.’

  For a moment Titus looked as if he had been slapped in the face, but he recovered quickly and nodded to acknowledge the possibility. ‘I will do everything in my power to avoid it, but if that is what it takes to break the rebels and deliver this city to my father, I will not shirk from it.’

  In the silence that followed Valerius wondered if his friend’s head was filled with the same images that haunted him, but it seemed Titus had other things on his mind.

  ‘I had word by courier that you were on your way.’ He held up a hand to forestall Valerius’s question. ‘It does not matter who sent it, only that they had your interests at heart. You seek a position on my staff, a command perhaps?’

  Valerius kept his face emotionless and thanked his nameless benefactor for saving him the necessity of having to plead. ‘I will serve wherever you think I can be of the greatest value.’

  ‘A good answer, as always,’ Titus’s eyes turned knowing, ‘but one you may live to regret.’ He strode to the doorway and drew back the curtain. By now it was full night, but the watchfires of Jerusalem twinkled on the far side of the valley. ‘Did you know that, on the day the man Christus died, the Judaeans claim it was as dark as this at noon?’

  Valerius went to stand beside him. ‘A cloud covers the sun,’ he said. ‘A soothsayer claims a miracle, the story grows with the years until it becomes truth. Before Colonia fell to Boudicca men claimed statues toppled of their own accord and the sea turned red, but I saw neither.’

  ‘My ever practical Valerius.’ Titus smiled and clapped his shoulder. ‘It is reassuring to know you haven’t changed. Good, that means I can be open with you. There will be no command for you in the Army of the East.’ Despite himself, Valerius flinched at the blow to his hopes. Titus was astute enough to recognize his disappointment and tried to soften the impact. ‘If it were my decision only, Valerius, you would have an eagle and a legion to follow it, but there are other considerations. You should know my father believes none of the nonsense uttered at your trial. In time, there will be compensations, but first he must consolidate his position. You know better than I the undercurrents and shifting loyalties in the Senate.’ He waited for an acknowledgement from Valerius and the one-handed Roman nodded. ‘That means my brother Domitian has an important part to play. He has laid the foundations for my father’s return and he can just as easily remove them. After what happened in Rome, to give you a command in my army would be seen as an insult to Domitian. For my father’s sake, and for my own reasons, I cannot afford to risk that.’

  ‘It was asking too much.’ Valerius picked up his cloak and made to leave, but Titus hurried across and took it from him.

  ‘Let there be no misunderstanding between us, Valerius. I meant every word and dearly regret being unable to give you the command your experience and your friendship merit. Yet you said you were prepared to serve where you would be of the greatest use? Did you mean it?’

  ‘Of course. I will serve in the ranks. Perhaps if I distinguished—’

  ‘You have distinguished yourself enough for three lifetimes, my friend, but it would make no difference. These are political practicalities, not military ones.’ Valerius stared at him in consternation. What now? ‘The service I have in mind may be distasteful. It may also be dangerous. Josephus tells me you saved his life?’

  Valerius blinked at the abrupt change of direction. ‘It might have appeared so at the time.’

  ‘Do not be
so modest,’ Titus laughed. ‘I also hear you have been teaching yourself Judaean?’ Now Valerius looked up sharply. The information could only have come from one source. Tabitha. An amused half-smile on Titus’s lips confirmed he was perfectly aware of it.

  ‘A little,’ Valerius admitted.

  ‘Josephus carries out certain other delicate tasks apart from being my adviser on political and religious matters in Judaea. This has made him unpopular amongst his former comrades. The attempt on his life at Gamala was not the first, nor will it be the last. I want you – and Serpentius, if you wish – to act as his protectors.’

  ‘I doubt he would want that,’ Valerius protested.

  ‘Do not underestimate yourself, Valerius. Josephus says he trusts you, and Josephus is a careful man. Of course, that may itself be a ruse, because he is also cynical and devious. Perhaps he thinks he has a use for you. But it is of no matter. What matters is that it suits Titus Flavius Vespasian for his old friend Valerius to be close to his Judaean adviser.’ He let the words hang in the air so Valerius understood exactly what he meant. Protecting Josephus was only half the job. Titus decided he had to be more explicit. ‘Being a student under Seneca made you as fine a reader of men as anyone I have ever come across. The work Josephus does raises certain questions; perhaps you can come up with some of the answers I would like.’

  ‘You want me to spy on him?’

  ‘Let us just say I would be interested in your observations. Of course, if you feel for reasons of honour …’

  Valerius actually laughed. ‘This from the man who sent me to “advise” Marcus Antonius, who wanted to kill me. In any case, you saved my life. I can still feel the chill of the executioner’s sword on my neck.’

  ‘Be certain, Valerius. It will be dangerous. I could be sending you to your death.’

  Valerius took a deep breath. ‘I’ll do it. Nobody lives for ever, as Serpentius is so fond of reminding me.’

  ‘How is he? He seems … altered.’

  ‘The blow on the head almost killed him. Physically his skills are unchanged – he’s as deadly as ever with any weapon you care to name – but sometimes his mind is elsewhere.’

  Titus nodded as if the words confirmed his own observation. ‘I will make sure he is looked after if anything happens to you.’

  ‘I’d count it a favour.’

  ‘And your new position merits a senior tribune’s share of the bounty if … when we take Jerusalem. You could be a rich man.’

  ‘Rich or dead.’ Valerius had noticed the momentary hesitation. Did even Titus have doubts? ‘One way or other it seems my days of worrying are over.’

  The sentiment won a boyish grin from Vespasian’s son. ‘If only I could say the same. Now, you will dine with me. There is someone I would like you to meet.’

  XXVII

  To Valerius’s surprise the meal didn’t take place in camp. Escorted by a reinforced troop of a hundred legionary cavalry, they rode north until a pair of flickering torches signalled the gates of a villa or a farmstead. Trusted soldiers from Titus’s old command, the Fifteenth, guarded the gateway and Valerius had no doubt more of them waited in the darkness. Whoever they were dining with was precious to the young general.

  ‘A great deal of security.’ Titus read his thoughts with a smile. ‘But I have to remember that I am the Emperor’s son now, and soon to be his heir. Besides, did you not chide me for exposing myself to the enemy earlier today?’

  ‘Who lives here?’

  ‘It is owned by a local magistrate murdered by the Sicarii, but I have commandeered it to house a friend who is visiting.’ As they turned into the gateway he inspected Valerius, who wore a borrowed toga beneath his cloak, and nodded approvingly. ‘You will do. The scarred tribune – Paternus, isn’t it? – told me you wore a general’s armour the first time he saw you.’

  ‘A gift from Sohaemus of Emesa for a service I did him,’ Valerius admitted. ‘I intend to pass it on to someone more worthy of it.’

  ‘No, you must keep it.’ Titus grinned. ‘Who knows, you may yet have need of it. In fact, you should have worn it tonight. Our host would have been most impressed.’

  They rode up the shallow slope of a ridge in the direction of a dull glow in the ink-blue sky. Moments later the light from numerous oil lamps illuminated a building of surprising scale. They dismounted and servants took their cloaks before a chamberlain escorted them to a large room set out with cushioned couches and an ornate low table. The moment he entered Valerius had the sensation of being stripped bare under the appraisal of a pair of hypnotic eyes the colour of polished chestnut. At first glance she was no classic beauty, but a moment later he decided she was one of the most striking women he had ever seen. A half-smile as she noted his reaction said she knew it too.

  Long, silken lashes framed the brown eyes and she had a narrow, aristocratic nose set above full lips that shone like Caspian rubies. Her face was a perfect oval and he guessed the wide mouth could turn sulky if – and he doubted it happened often – she didn’t get her way. The dark lines of her brows arched in perfect curves across a smooth brow and her hair was styled in tight ringlets arranged in waves across her scalp. Like all her features, her ears were in precise harmony with the whole: small, delicate and hung with gold and precious gemstones that matched the necklace at her throat. She wore a dress of Roman design, but in an exotic shimmering blue that reminded him of a sunny morning off the coast of Creta, with gold braid at the neck, sleeves and hem.

  She lounged comfortably on a couch arranged at the far side of the table and it took a moment before he realized she wasn’t the only occupant of the room. Two other women stood behind the couch. One was Tabitha, with an amused glint in her eyes that told him she was having trouble keeping her face straight. Her presence confirmed his suspicions about the identity of the woman at the table and the reason for Titus’s visit.

  ‘Queen Berenice of Cilicia.’ Titus made the introduction. ‘My comrade Gaius Valerius Verrens, a valiant soldier and a holder of the Corona Aurea.’

  Valerius bowed and Berenice responded with the slightest inclination of her head. Here was a woman accustomed to men’s homage. When she spoke, her voice was husky, low and naturally seductive. ‘Your description did not do him justice, Tabitha.’

  Under the gaze of the two women Valerius felt as if his tongue had been tied in a knot. Berenice’s wide eyes pinned him until Titus broke the spell.

  ‘Valerius, I do believe you are blushing.’

  The jest inspired a change in the atmosphere. Berenice struggled not to laugh and Valerius caught the mood. ‘I merely reflect the glow of my lady’s beauty.’ He repeated his bow, catching a look in Tabitha’s eyes that made him feel as if he were caught between a charge of Iceni champions on the one side and Parthian Invincibles on the other.

  ‘Come, sit by my right side.’ Berenice pointed to the couch. ‘You must tell me about the first time you and Prince Titus met.’

  Titus’s unexpected elevation surprised Valerius, but he managed not to show it. Vespasian’s son gave him a tight smile that warned this wasn’t a subject for discussion. The queen gestured a servant forward and he poured wine into three of the four silver cups on the table. Of course Berenice, a ruler in her own right, would grace her lover – and Valerius had no doubt they were lovers – with a title. When he considered it, Titus, the heir to an emperor, was certainly a prince at the very least, a prince of Rome.

  ‘If I remember it correctly I was roasting like a fish on a griddle on an Egyptian beach, with the last sip of water a distant memory …’

  A bustle of activity from outside the room interrupted his account and a figure in military uniform appeared in the doorway. Titus looked up expectantly and frowned when he discovered the newcomer wasn’t the one he expected.

  ‘General Tiberius Alexander sends his apologies, lord Titus, but the logistics of tomorrow’s move make it impossible for him to attend.’ Claudius Paternus saluted. ‘He suggested you might be happy
to have my company in his stead.’

  The words were courteous enough, but there was a sardonic edge to the tone that made Titus’s face harden as he looked up into the ravaged face. ‘I am sure you have more pressing duties—’

  ‘No,’ Queen Berenice intervened with a smile. ‘I am sure Tiberius would not make the suggestion without good reason. Let me see your face.’ Valerius saw Paternus flinch at what could be taken as a calculated insult before he turned so that the scarred portion of his features was visible. Berenice motioned towards a position directly across the table. ‘So we have two veterans with interesting stories to tell. How fitting.’ She looked to Titus for affirmation and he gave an irritated nod for Paternus to take his place on the couch. ‘You were telling me about your first encounter with Prince Titus, Valerius.’

  Valerius glanced at Paternus, whose single eye almost smoked with suppressed fury. ‘We were out of water and I doubt we would have lasted another hour,’ he continued. ‘If Prince Titus hadn’t appeared with his auxiliaries I would not be here.’

  Titus took the praise as his due. ‘It was fortunate we arrived in time,’ he smiled. ‘But more fortunate we found your young tribune staggering across our path. If anything, he was the true hero. What was his name again?’

  ‘Crescens.’ Valerius was looking at Titus, but he sensed the man to his left stiffen and wondered why. ‘Tiberius Claudius Crescens.’ He’d ridden more than thirty miles across featureless desert in a near suicidal attempt to reach help.