Rome: Tempest of the Legion (Sword of the Legion Series)

by R. Cameron Cooke

  The three men sat across from each other at the long dining table in the officers’ mess. The room had been cleared out for the occasion, the Argonaut’s officers, including Naevius, curtly informed that they would have to take their supper on deck this evening. One of the senator’s burly bodyguards stood at the doorway, ensuring the deliberations remained private, while the other stood just behind Postumus and Flavius, as if he was prepared to protect the senator and his adjutant should Libo choose to leap across the table at them. Lucius was there, too. He stood a few steps behind Libo’s seat, unarmed, but ready to serve as a protector to Libo should the need arise. The tension and the distrust was thick in the room, like they were two rival factions discussing peace after long years of conflict.

  Lucius noticed that Flavius was studying him with a disgusted look, as if he was offended by the centurion’s presence. Earlier, Lucius had not failed to observe the man’s odd limp and pained expression when he had taken his seat, as if he suffered from a recent injury to his groin.

  Postumus was about to speak when Flavius interjected. “Forgive me, Senator, but before we begin, would it not be wise to have this buffoon of Caesar’s removed? He should not hear what we are about to discuss.”

  “Centurion Domitius is my responsibility, Flavius,” Libo spoke up. “He understands the tyrant led him astray, and he is now fully committed to our cause. He stands here at my bidding.”

  Flavius did not appear pleased with that answer, but it seemed acceptable to Postumus, who glanced reproachfully at his adjutant before speaking.

  “I asked for this meeting, Admiral, because the time has come to share with you the purpose of my mission.”

  “I am pleased to hear it, Senator,” Libo replied cordially. “But I believe I already know of the time and the place of your meeting with Antony.”

  Postumus shot a scowl at Lucius. “Let me assure you, Admiral, whatever information this brute has given you, it is not the full story. You must hear me out, if you are to fully understand my mission, the importance of which cannot be overstated.”

  A sudden commotion in the passage prompted every man in the room to turn his head. Calpurnia and her handmaid stood in the doorway, barred from entrance by the muscled arm of the guard.

  “Oh, my dear young lady,” Postumus said with polite irritation. “These proceedings are quite private. I’m so sorry, but whatever business you have with the admiral will have to wait.”

  “Lady Calpurnia is here at my request, Senator,” Libo said.

  Postumus smiled at him condescendingly. “Admiral, these matters are inappropriate for the ears of a young lady. I must insist that you ask her to leave.”

  “An attempt was made on my life, Senator,” Calpurnia spoke, glaring at him accusingly. “My father was murdered.”

  “Murdered? Oh, my dear young lady – “

  “I have a right to know, Senator!”

  “To know what, my dear?” Postumus still spoke in a polite tone, but Lucius could see that his white-knuckled fingers nearly bored holes in the polished armrests of his stool.

  Libo interjected. “Your mission, Senator, and the unfortunate attack on Lady Calpurnia must be connected in some way. I asked Lady Calpurnia to come here tonight with the thought that she might have information that could prove useful.”

  “I don’t see how,” Postumus said aghast, but then Flavius touched his sleeve.

  “I believe it could do little harm, Senator,” the adjutant said in an oddly agreeable tone. “Perhaps the admiral is right.”

  Postumus looked at Flavius apprehensively, but then finally acquiesced and motioned for the guard to admit her. Calpurnia bowed her head courteously and then took a seat on Libo’s side of the table. Her handmaid stood a few paces behind her, and shot a brief glance at Lucius, who returned her glower with a playful smile.

  “Well, now that we are all here,” Postumus said, the irritation not yet entirely absent from his tone. “Let me start by acquainting you with the facts. Nearly three weeks ago, I received a secret communique from one of our agents in Rome – a man who sits on Antony’s inner circle of advisors.”

  “This communication came to you?” Libo said skeptically. “Not to the Senate?”

  “I know it sounds unusual, Admiral,” Postumus said dismissively, “but this informant is an associate of mine. He is a very trustworthy source, and is committed to the restoration of the republic, just as we all are.

  “I see.”

  “Precisely twenty days ago,” Postumus continued, “Antony received a late night visitor at his home in Rome under very strange circumstances. The visit was unannounced and appeared to take Antony off his guard, but he received the visitor, nonetheless, and both he and the visitor retired to his inner chamber. The substance of their discussion is unknown, but upon emerging from the conference, Antony immediately summoned Tribune Atilius Marcellus – who you may remember acted as treasurer and disbursing officer to Caesar through much of his Gallic campaigns – and then sent orders to Brundisium that a flotilla of ships be assembled to attempt an immediate crossing of the Adriatic with four cohorts. Marcellus was dispatched there to join it, with an armed escort, whom I believe you already know was this centurion, here.” Postumus gestured grudgingly at Lucius. “Marcellus sailed with the fleet, bound for Epirus.”

  “In an orange-flagged ship?” Libo speculated.

  “Precisely. Several dozen vessels put to sea that day, hastily loaded with whatever troops could be put into them, but we surmise these were decoys and of little value. We believe the sole intent of that entire excursion was to ensure the orange-flagged ship got through. It is likely that none of the other captains knew about it.”

  “Why the orange flag?” Libo asked curiously. “That’s not very inconspicuous, unless Caesar was so eager to receive Marcellus that he wanted to know when his ship approached.”

  “You are assuming Marcellus was on his way to meet with Caesar. Of course, he was not. What would be the point of the secrecy, of not sharing the information with even his closest advisors, or not providing a stronger escort? No, my dear Admiral, Antony was up to something – something that he did not want Caesar to know about.”

  “So, the orange banner was intended to be seen by someone else?” Libo concluded. “Someone in our fleet?”

  “We believe it was an agreed upon signal, in the event the ship was captured. We believe it was meant to protect Marcellus from the very fate he suffered. Perhaps the intended recipient had agents within our fleet instructed to look out for it. Perhaps agents aboard this very ship.”

  “Agents of the Raven perhaps?” Libo said it casually, but the effect was noticeable on Postumus and Flavius’s faces. The senator shot a scowl at Lucius, obviously understanding the source of Libo’s information.

  “I see that the centurion knows much more than we suspected, Admiral,” Postumus finally said, then smiled. “The Raven is no one you need concern yourself with. He is simply –“

  “The Raven is a murderer!” Calpurnia interrupted suddenly, her face red with anger as she glared at the senator. “He killed my brothers. He killed my father.”

  “Come now, my lady,” Postumus said tetchily. “You must admit that such a claim is a bit fanciful.”

  Calpurnia appeared ready to respond in an incendiary manner, but Libo spoke first. “With all respect to you both, is not this Raven a myth? I have heard tales of the Raven Brotherhood since I was a boy. It is the stuff of conspiracies and intrigue, something we all use as an explanation for the unexplainable.”

  “The Raven is no myth, Admiral,” Calpurnia said. “He is very real. His followers are real. His bloody hand is involved in nearly everything that happens in Rome. His iron-fist stretches across the empire.”

  “In all of my years serving the empire, my lady,” Libo said doubtfully, “I have never come in contact with him.

  “Do you see Jupiter in his flesh, Admiral?” Calpurnia replied hotly. “Do you see Mars on the battlefield? Of c
ourse not. But you see evidence of their power. You see their influence all around you. Mark you me, Admiral, there is a secret order within the Senate that is the true governing body of Rome. It is a small cadre of senators, known only by its members. It directs the affairs of the empire from the shadows.”

  “But to what end, my lady?” Libo asked doubtfully.

  “That their leader, a man called the Raven – a man who is said to be directly descended from the Tarquins, the ancient kings of Rome – might gain supreme power.” As she spoke, she turned and looked directly across the table at Postumus. “That he might do away with the Senate and the voting assemblies, and establish a new dynasty to rule the Romans as did the kings of old. He will stop at nothing.”

  Postumus suddenly laughed out loud, but it seemed unnatural, as if he was uncomfortable under Calpurnia’s stare. “My dear lady, Rome’s kings have been gone for well over four hundred years. The Tarquins no longer exist. These are merely stories meant to scare children into believing the dreaded tyrants might one day return should we not hold fast to our republican values. It is, indeed, a great story, but too fantastical to have any truth to it. What’s next? Will Aeneas appear and demand of the kings his lands be restored? Or will the she-wolf of Romulus return in the guise of a man to stake her own claim? It is too absurd to give it a second thought.” Postumus then looked at Libo. “As Lady Calpurnia has suggested, Admiral, there is no doubt some man calling himself the Raven, and he may perhaps hold some sway over a certain base of clientele, but I do not share her opinion of the extent of his power or his intentions.”

  “Then, it is this Raven whom you believe has made some sort of arrangement with Antony?” Libo asked.

  “That is correct, Admiral,” Postumus said earnestly. “Thanks to our agent in Rome, the Senate in Thessalonica was informed as to the details of this arrangement, and Flavius and I have been sent to head it off, or capitalize on it, if all goes well.”

  “But I thought you said the substance of Antony’s meeting with the mysterious visitor was unknown.”

  “We did not wish to bring you in on all of the details, Admiral, more for your own good than for any other reason. It would have been best had you simply delivered us to our destination tomorrow, and forgotten about the whole thing. But, now that you have other birds whispering in your ears,” Postumus glanced ruefully at Calpurnia and then Lucius, “you might as well know everything. You may have heard, Admiral, the rumors of late, that Caesar has opened the aerarium stabulum – the public treasury reserves in Rome – for his own personal use. Well, I am afraid these rumors are true. The brigand Caesar is using the public purse to keep his legions in the field, not only those in Italy and Spain, but those now afoot in Greece with the tyrant himself. Antony was to bring this money with him when he brought his legions across the Adriatic. However, Antony is having second thoughts about his allegiance to Caesar, and has decided to use that money to another purpose. The man is bloated with ambition. He has made a deal with the Raven. He is to hand over half of the aerarium, some thirty million sesterces, in exchange for an appointment as the supreme commander of all Optimates armies. Apparently, the fool Antony believes the Raven carries enough influence with the Senate that such an edict is possible. Of course, you and I know that is utter nonsense. Pompey is the commander and will always be the commander. The Senate has no plans to replace him, nor would they ever consider choosing a verbose, inept, blood-sucking tick like Antony for such a position, no matter how persuasive this Raven thinks he is. It really is quite laughable.” Postumus chuckled while Flavius smirked beside him.

  “And yet, Senator,” Calpurnia spoke contemptuously, “the Raven seems to hold sway over Rome’s vassals.”

  “Forgive me, my lady,” Postumus said, still smiling. “But I do not know to what you are referring.”

  “Do you not? Why, I am referring to that whore in Alexandria who calls herself the queen of Egypt, Cleopatra Philopator. The murder of my brothers happened under her very nose, and she did nothing to stop it, nor did she make any moves to apprehend the true criminals. Why not? Because they were agents of the Raven, and she was instructed not to interfere.” Calpurnia paused, looking fervently at Postumus. “Do you know what it's like, Senator, to see the heads of your brothers presented to you like a fisherman's catch of the day? Cleopatra sent them to my father, preserved in oil, the Egyptian way of honoring the dead, she claimed, that my father might bury them properly. But I would rather she had tossed them to the crocodiles.” Calpurnia trembled as she spoke, whether out of anguish or anger, it was impossible to tell. "I can still see them as they were presented to my father. Those faces with which I had so many happy memories, now slick, contorted, frozen in the horror of their last breath. That is the image that haunts me whenever I think of the Raven, Senator. For it was by his order that my brothers were slain."

  "You have our sincerest condolences, my dear," Postumus added in something that sounded like sympathy. "It is simply unimaginable what you have been through. It has been some time, but I seem to remember reading that Queen Cleopatra apprehended the vile wretches responsible for the murders and sent them to your father.”

  "The vile wretch was the queen herself, Senator. She sent a few common criminals in chains to Antioch, hoping to placate my father, while allowing the real murderers, members of the Raven Brotherhood, to escape!"

  "No disrespecting your brothers' tragedy, my dear, but do you have anything to substantiate that?"

  "Nothing happens by accident in Alexandria, Senator," her eyes were cold and locked onto his. "Nothing that the children of the drunkard Ptolemy do not arrange, either to undermine others or one another. And, yes, I do have proof.”

  Calpurnia turned and nodded to Marjanita. The handmaid stepped forward, removed an object from a pouch at her belt, and placed it on the table. Lucius could see that it was a signet ring of black and gold, and that it bore the emblem of a lighted bird, which he assumed to be a Raven. It was much like any other signet ring he had seen before, much like ones he had seen legates use to sign documents, but he noticed that Postumus and Flavius seemed disturbed by the sight of it. They stared at the ring as if it were the key that unlocked the cave of Cacus.

  “This is the seal of the Raven Brotherhood,” Calpurnia stated, glancing at Libo. “It was found among my brothers’ personal effects and baggage. Cleopatra had the courtesy to return my brothers’ things to my father, but her incompetent servants must have missed this item, otherwise I’m sure it never would have been included.”

  Postumus picked up the ring and inspected it for a moment before returning it to the center of the table. “And this is how you concluded the Raven was behind your brothers’ deaths?”

  “Yes.”

  Postumus seemed inwardly amused for the briefest moment.

  “I will expose him, Senator!” Calpurnia snapped. “I will ensure that he suffers just as my brothers suffered.”

  “How can you possibly do that, my lady?” Flavius spoke up. “You have nothing more than a ring and a theory.”

  “I have spent a long time searching for this man, and I have learned much about him. I know that he is a senator, that he is an older man, that he is wealthy but does not flaunt his wealth,” she looked more intently into Postumus’s eyes with each word. “And that he has a mark, a tattoo upon his left breast, of the same symbol you see on this ring. And I am very near to finding him, Senator. My father’s murder is proof of that. The Raven grows nervous. He foresees his days are numbered.”

  After a long moment of silence, Postumus burst into laughter and slapped the table several times. “Well, this explains why your handmaid was hovering outside my window last night. What were you hoping, that she might see me in my disrobed state and discover this mythical tattoo?” He laughed again, and Flavius joined in, but his was more forced. “My lady, this is why women should remain in the villa, and away from the forum, for they are too easily swept up in fantasy! You would, I’m sure, wish me to strip
to the waist here and now, to prove your wild claims, but I will not entertain them. They are the ridiculous notions of a child!”

  “I don’t believe Lady Calpurnia would accuse you of being the Raven, Senator,” Libo said, glancing at Calpurnia for some kind of affirmation. “Nor do I believe she would spy on you in your quarters. Is that not right, my lady?”

  Calpurnia did not answer immediately, and Lucius noticed that, for the first time since the lady had entered the room, she appeared muddled and vulnerable, as if the sudden revelation of this incident distressed her greatly. Finally, she conceded with a nod of her head. “I sent no one to spy on you, Senator.”

  “There is no doubting what I saw, Admiral,” Postumus said. “Last night, as I was retiring to my bed, a shadowy figure peered through my portal. It remained just beyond the light of the lantern, but I could see its darkened features staring back at me, outlined by the glimmer of long hair. It remained there as long as one might count to ten. By the time I called my guard, it had vanished into the night. There was nothing outside but the hull and the sea. Whoever it was must have been small and nimble as a gymnast to hang from that ledge and retreat so quickly.”

  “Perhaps this intruder is somehow connected to Barca’s attack on Lady Calpurnia,” Libo offered, glancing at Calpurnia as if to seek her opinion, but Calpurnia appeared to be lost in thought, and Libo continued. “No matter who it was, he shall not disturb you again, Senator. I shall see that a marine guard is stationed at the stern deck railing just above your cabin.”

  “That will be most kind, Admiral,” Postumus replied, shooting a defiant glance at Calpurnia. “But perhaps the guard will only be necessary for one more night. No doubt, this intruder means to disrupt my mission here, and after tomorrow, he will be too late. My mission will be fulfilled. Which brings us back to the purpose of this meeting.” He looked around the room, and then glanced once at the door. “Tomorrow, at dawn, Antony intends to meet with agents of the Raven on the isle of Basada in the mouth of Brundisium harbor. Marcellus’s mission was to deliver the time and the place for the meeting to the Raven in Thessalonica. We know that Marcellus’s message never reached its destination – thanks to your father, my lady, who so thoroughly saw to that. Thanks to our agent in Rome, we know the time and the place of the meeting. Tomorrow, Antony intends to exchange the promised amount of treasury gold and silver for a signed edict from the Senate declaring him supreme commander over all Roman armies.”