by T. A. Uner
“I want the men ready to march; have the trumpeter blow the assembly,” Decimus ordered. Titus nodded and hurried off to see to his duty, while Decimus headed for his quarters. Inside he found his steward, Publius, who nodded respectfully.
“How did the meeting with the Tribune go?” Publius asked. Decimus threw himself into a wicker chair and scratched the back of his head.
“Terrible. We’ve been ordered to capture a bunch of rowdy circus performers. And here I was, excited that we might be sent on an important mission to suppress a barbarian insurgency or rescue an encircled Legion. Mars must be laughing his arse off at me, Publius.”
Publius brought Decimus a goblet of wine. He downed it before pulling out the map that Norbanus had given him. He stretched it out on the table before him and scanned it meticulously. Norbanus had clearly marked the locations where the Leopard King’s attacks had occurred. The most recent attack was marked northwest of Rome, along the Via Salaria.
“I’m sure you will formulate an ingenious plan to catch these rebels, sir.”
Decimus sighed. “If only it was that easy. To this date few have survived their attacks, and those who have speak of a masked man fighting alongside an invincible Leopardess. I don’t think these are unorganized attacks Publius, this Leopard King utilizes strategy when he conducts attacks.”
Publius eyed the large map spread out on Decimus’ table. “How can you tell?”
“Call it a soldier’s intuition. Besides, this Leopard King and his minions always cover their tracks. That type of behavior makes them an organized fighting unit, not some unruly band of vagabonds Norbanus would have us believe,” Decimus said, a concerned look marred his face.
“I’ve only been serving you a few short months, sir, but one thing I know about you is that you’ll persevere in the end.”
Decimus smiled warmly at Publius before turning back to his map, while in the background, the sound of a trumpet blared, calling the men to assembly. “If you find me perseverant Publius, you would’ve loved my old friend Tullus: the finest Centurion I ever served with.”
“Wasn’t that the man you replaced, sir?”
Decimus shot Publius an anomalous glance. “No man could ever replace Tullus Acilius Ulixes. He was the epitome of the modern Roman officer. Perhaps not as good with the ladies as I am, but an impressive man nonetheless.” Decimus folded the map up and leaned back in his chair.
“Begging your pardon sir, but I would hardly call the women you lay with ladies.”
Decimus laughed. “That’s what I like about you Publius…your wit.”
“Shall I bring you your food now?”
“Yes, but nothing too rich, we’ll be moving out shortly.
“Very well,” Publius said. He shuffled off to fetch Decimus his meal.
“If only you were still here old friend,” Decimus said to himself as he mulled over the memory of Tullus, “perhaps you could’ve helped me find this Leopard King.”Decimus’ cohort assembled in the main courtyard: four hundred and eighty men strong; the fiercest Guardsmen available. Decimus stood atop a granite plinth in front of the sacred tribunal platform, while Titus walked the ranks of men, inspecting them before their march.
“Praetorians,” Decimus explained, trying his best to make the mission sound noteworthy, “Our esteemed Tribune, Norbanus Forticus Blandus, has entrusted us with a mission of utmost importance. A throng of barbarians led by a savage calling himself The Leopard King has been terrorizing the countryside for the past few weeks. He and his brigand have been plundering the wealth of our leading citizens.”
“Wonderful. I was beginning to wonder if our superiors had forgotten about us,” said Appius, a tall guardsman with broad shoulders and a thick-set jaw. The other men in the first rank laughed.
“Since you are so enamored with our new mission, Appius,” Decimus said, “you and the men in the first rank have the honor of latrine duty once we make camp.” Loud groans were heard from the men around Appius, whose amiable expression quickly turned sullen.
“This will be our first real mission under my command. And while I don’t expect much difficulty, I remind you that you are the first cohort of the Emperor’s Praetorian Guard.”
The men chanted the name of their cohort until the sound became deafening–like the piercing cry of four hundred and eighty Roman eagles. Decimus descended the plinth before Titus handed him his helm. Both Centurion and Optio mounted their steeds, and, flanked by their cavalry units, led the marching column of Praetorians out of the barracks.
{II}
“Marcus Junius Silanus, I do believe you are growing senile in your old age,” Emperor Caligula told his former father-in-law.
“Many people would agree with me, Excellency,” Silanus said. “This man, calling himself the ‘Leopard King’ has won many friends amongst the masses in the short time he’s been active.”
Caligula eyed his sister Drusilla, who looked quite ravishing in a flowing red gown that highlighted her feminine curves, while her blonde hair glimmered as if it were spun of gold. He never looked at my daughter Junia like that when he was married to her, Silanus thought. Perhaps the nasty rumors of Caligula bedding Drusilla were justified.
“Still,” Caligula said, “I find your assessment most disturbing, dear Senator. As you know, my reign is still in its infancy, and I won’t have it overshadowed by some fool dressed up as a Leopard who runs around attacking Roman citizens and making a nuisance of himself.”
“To my knowledge he hasn’t damaged your public standing in the least bit. But I understand your concern,” Silanus replied.
“It does seem a bit romantic, don’t you think, brother?” Drusilla said, “Here is a man, totally dedicated to avenging the death of his friend, and yet he still finds time to aid the helpless.”
“If you are referring to the recent distribution of exotic riches that were allocated to the merchants and plebeians inside the Forum, need I remind you dear sister that those priceless gemstones were stolen from a convoy belonging to one of our leading citizens.” In the background Claudius sat at a table, stylus in hand, scribbling on a wax tablet. “What do you think, uncle?” Caligula said. Claudius stopped writing and looked up from his tablet.
“Many unconfirmed rumors exist about The Leopard King, nephew, I am not at liberty to make a statement about a man whose ultimate intentions are shrouded in mystery.”
Caligula frowned and looked upon Claudius disgustedly. “I shouldn’t have expected a sagacious answer from a halfwit such as yourself, uncle,” Caligula said. “Now, you have put me in a bad mood.” Claudius shrugged his shoulders and returned to his scribbling.
“Do you remember that little game we played when I was a boy, Uncle Claudius?”
“It eludes me at the moment,” Claudius said inattentively, while continuing with his work.
“When father took me along with him to inspect his armies, back in the days when they first called me Little Boots, you let me ride on your back. Yes, now I recall the name of the game: we called it ‘horse and rider.’”
Claudius stopped scribbling and looked up–a vexed expression clutching his face.
Caligula walked toward his uncle and playfully slapped him on his back, causing Claudius to drop his stylus. “Come now uncle,” Caligula said, “don’t be shy; let us play again: to remind us of the old days.”
“Little boots,” Drusilla said, “leave Uncle Claudius alone.”
“Nonsense, dear sister, I’m only trying to have a bit of fun to lighten my mood. Isn’t that right uncle?” Claudius looked at Caligula indifferently, before nodding his assent.
“Excellency, I suggest we get back to discussing the matter at hand,” Silanus interposed.
Caligula pointed a cutting finger at Silanus. “I suggest you hold your tongue, Senator, until you are given permission to speak.”
Silanus nodded and backed away.
“Now uncle, on your hands and knees, I feel the urge of a ride coming on.”
“This is r-r-ridiculous,” Claudius stammered before reluctantly submitting to his nephew’s wish.
Caligula guffawed and climbed onto Claudius’ back. He grabbed a handful of Claudius’ hair and slapped his uncle’s arse while Claudius moved around on his hands and knees. Silanus and Drusilla watched quietly as the Emperor urged his human steed around the room. “Whinny like a horse uncle,” Caligula ordered mirthfully. Claudius complied obediently, his pudgy face red from strain as Caligula prolonged the shameless spectacle. Finally, the Emperor dismounted, while an exhausted Claudius collapsed onto the floor, his hair in disarray; patches of sweat stained the underarms of his tunic.
Caligula straightened his toga and smiled. “I must say, that was quite a refreshing ride.”
“I believe Senator Silanus wished to continue his discussion with you, brother,” Drusilla said.
“Ahh, yes, well it seems the ride has stirred my appetite, so, my dear Senator, we shall resume this discussion another time.” Caligula waved Silanus away. The Senator nodded respectfully and exited the room. Silanus walked down the corridor of the palace where Praetorian Guards lurked at every turn before entering the palace kitchen, where cooks were busily preparing the Emperor’s next meal.
“How is my adoptive father these days?” said a voice from the shadows.
“Still acting peculiarly,” Silanus replied.
The owner of the voice emerged from the shadows, revealing a young man with long, curly blonde hair that rested on his shoulders.
“Were you able to relay my message to Caligula, Silanus?”
“I couldn’t,” Silanus replied. “He was too busy riding Claudius like a horse. I fear our dear Emperor is not quite sane.”
“He won’t even respond to my requests to speak with him,” the young man said, his eyelids fluttering like dragonfly wings.
“Patience, my dear Gemellus,” Silanus said, “this is not the place to discuss Caligula: his ears are everywhere. Come to my residence tonight. There we shall discuss the matter in friendlier surroundings.”
Silanus and Gemellus faded into the kitchen’s shadows like specters while the din around them masked their departure.
{III}
“This is madness,” Gemellus said, “Caligula is not fit to lead rats to a picnic, let alone the Roman
Empire.”
“Now, now, my dear Prince,” Silanus said, “calm minds must prevail at times like these. It wouldn’t serve you to get caught up in such stupor. Relax, and drink this fine wine made from the grapes of my personal vineyard.” One of Silanus’ slaves handed Gemellus a goblet of wine.
Gemellus took a seat on one of the couches in Silanus’ study and sipped his drink. “It’s only that I feel so powerless, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Many of us in the senate feel the same way, my dear boy,” Silanus said. “Caligula was once married to my own daughter, our bloodlines united by marriage, but now… he speaks to me as if I am a first year Aedile.”
“I should be Emperor,” Gemellus exclaimed as wine dripped from his goblet. A slave rushed off and returned with a wet towel to wipe the wine droplets. Silanus smiled: he prided himself on the efficiency of his household slaves, while Gemellus, still fuming, shifted restlessly on the couch.
“You must understand Caligula has powerful allies within the Empire.”
“Macro,” Gemellus muttered, as if the Prefect’s name was cursed.
“And don’t forget the Praetorian Guard: it is known throughout the senate the Praetorians are capable of controlling the future of the Empire.”
“So what can we do?” Gemellus asked as one of Silanus’ male slaves whispered words into his master’s ear. Silanus nodded.
“What is it?”
“I have asked one of my esteemed colleagues to join our little discussion.”
“Can he be trusted?”
“There he is my dear Gemellus,” Silanus said while extending his arm. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
Gemellus turned his head and gazed at Senator Remus Clodius, who entered the study escorted by one of Silanus’ slaves. The two Senators greeted one another in friendship before Remus took a seat. Another one of Silanus’ slave brought him wine. Remus sipped it with fervor and nodded appreciatively. “An excellent vintage, Marcus.”
Silanus grinned. “I am glad you think so, Remus.”
“Am I late?”
“Actually you’re right on time. Our young Prince Gemellus was expressing his disappointment at our Emperor.”
Remus nodded. “These days, careful calculation and Praetorian support are often more effective in seizing power than bloodlines alone.”
“I seem to recall mentioning that to the Prince before your arrival, Remus.”
“He’s not fit to sit on the throne as Emperor; surely you can see that Senator Remus,” Gemellus added.
“The only thing I see is a young boy who is angry because he cannot play Emperor.”
Gemellus’ face turned red. “May I remind you Senator, that I am still a member of the imperial family, so a little more respect would be appreciated.”
“Respect is earned,” Remus said. “Not given.”
“Gentleman, gentleman, please,” Silanus said. “We are here to discuss a common concern, not argue amongst ourselves.”
“You both know that this meeting can be construed as treason,” Remus said.
Silanus chuckled. “Treason…aahh…such a misappropriate word for these humble proceedings, my dear Remus. We are simply here to discuss our concern at our beloved Emperor’s irregular behavior.”
Remus nodded. “I agree—Caligula has been acting strange lately.”
“Don’t you have something worthwhile to add to the discussion, Senator Remus?” Gemellus asked impatiently.
“I do indeed: our beloved Emperor is sullying himself in incestuous relationships with his three sisters.”
“That is a nasty little rumor,” Silanus said, even though earlier today his own suspicions had been aroused by Caligula’s bawdy glances at Drusilla. “Incest is an accusation that has always been used for discrediting rueful politicians since the early days of the republic; surely this is the case regarding Caligula.”
“I wish it were that simple, Silanus,” Remus said. “I hear our Emperor is prostituting his two older sisters, Agrippina and Livilla, to Praetorian officers and Senators to create revenue for the empire’s shrinking treasury.”
“What proof do you have of this?”
“My sources wish to remain…anonymous,” Remus replied surreptitiously.
“This is madness,” Gemellus exclaimed, “How do you expect to garner our trust if you cannot be forthcoming with us, Senator?”
“If Remus wishes to protect the identity of his sources,” Silanus said calmly, “then we shall respect his wishes, Gemellus, so long as it does not undermine our comradeship.”
Gemellus shot Silanus a fomented glare before turning his attention back to Remus– who smiled at the young Prince and looked quite pleased with himself.
“I must be leaving soon,” Silanus said.
“Where are you going?” Gemellus asked suspiciously.
“If you must know, my Prince, I have senate business to attend to.”
“I too must be leaving.” Senator Remus rose from the couch.
“May I remind you all that this meeting never took place,” Silanus said. “Do I have everyone’s word of honor that what we have discussed shall never leave this room?”
Gemellus nodded. “I swear on my honor.”
“I too swear on my honor as a Senator,” Silanus said as he placed his palm over his heart. Both Silanus and Gemellus turned toward Remus to await his oath.
“Very well,” Remus said, “I swear on my family’s honor; what has been spoken here shall never be uttered outside these walls.”
“Excellent,” Silanus said, “I will contact you both when I determine the time and location of our next gathering.”
&n
bsp; {IV}
“I assure you, dear Prefect, my Centurion is working on it,” Norbanus said, while Macro stared at him through narrowed eyes.
“Your assurances do not concern me, Norbanus, rather, it is the frequency of these wearisome attacks made by this Leopard King I find troubling.”
“I am aware of the situation, but keep in mind that Centurion Decimus’ cohort left their barracks only yesterday afternoon to hunt down this barbarian and his confederates. I must remind you, our enemy is quite skilled at hit-and-run tactics. But Decimus has over twenty years of experience in the Legions; he will not fail me.”
Macro shot Norbanus a condescending glare. “See to it he doesn’t.” Macros leaned back in his chair. “Despite your undying faith in your new Centurion, our Emperor does not share your optimistic assessment of the situation.”
“Sir?”
“These random assaults on lawful Roman citizens has put our Emperor in a difficult position. He is concerned that the longer these attacks continue, the more his pristine image will be sullied.”
Norbanus almost laughed at Macro: calling Camus Scorpio and his band of killers ‘lawful Roman citizens’ was like comparing scorpions with lambs. It appeared Caligula was lacing his tongue with propaganda to appease the masses. No matter. Norbanus would soon put an end to the Leopard King’s attacks.
“You may assure the Emperor, that, as his loyal subject, I will deliver him the Leopard King’s head on a platter.”
Macro smiled. “I will be sure to let his Excellency know that; now, you may leave. I have other matters to attend.”
Norbanus saluted Macro and left the Prefect’s office, his two guards trailing him like shadows. He needed to contact Decimus, to see how the search was going. Macro would probably request updates on the search for The Leopard King, and Norbanus didn’t want to disappoint the Prefect. He left the palace and walked the streets of the Palantine district, his thoughts drifting toward Eliana and his upcoming wedding. Weeks had passed since Senator Remus had betrothed her to him. Norbanus was ashamed to admit that he knew so little of his bride-to-be, other than the fact that she had reached her eighteenth birthday without a husband. According to rumor, she had rejected most of the sons of Rome’s most esteemed families. With this in mind, he swore to address Eliana’s stubbornness before they married. He would not have his future wife stirring dissent in his household. He would break her like a master horseman breaks in a defiant mare—riding her hard until she submits to his will. Norbanus smiled as he pictured a subservient Eliana in his household. That would probably impress Remus, Norbanus thought. Now it was time for her to move in with him so they could begin their relations like a proper couple. Besides, he still needed to introduce Eliana to his friends and neighbors–that was the Roman way.
