Glory of Rome: (Gaius Valerius Verrens 8)

by Douglas Jackson

  ‘Demote every last one to the ranks and put them in different cohorts. The centurial ranks below them include some able men who tried to protect their legionaries and suffered for it. I can give you the names of suitable replacements and we can promote from below as necessary.’

  ‘Very well,’ Valerius said after a moment’s consideration. ‘Make it so.’ Naso rose from his seat, but hesitated in the doorway of the tent.

  ‘You have something you want to ask me, legate.’

  ‘Do I, Naso?’

  ‘Yes. You want to know how a man like me could stand by and let this happen. It seems so easy to say we should have done something, but at the time … I rose from the ranks. I don’t have wealth. I don’t have powerful friends. My whole life is invested in the uniform I wear and the bounty I will collect at the end of my service. I tried, truly I did, but he threatened to destroy my career. When I persisted he sent me on patrol into Brigante country with six of his escort. Lonely places. Gullies and crags just like this. They didn’t say anything. They didn’t have to. But the message was clear. If we do this again, you won’t be coming back. Still,’ he sighed. ‘I should have done more.’

  ‘Yes, you should,’ Valerius said. ‘Have the tribunes assemble and we’ll go over the details of the campaign.’

  He spent two hours explaining Agricola’s plan to the three tribunes, outlining the line of march and the tactics he intended to use. They seemed very young – the senior military tribune had remained at Lindum – and they listened attentively, but they were understandably wary of their new commander. None had done enough to stop Tertius or protest to the legate and they knew it. Valerius could break any one of them with a single-line note to Agricola, but he let them know, without saying it outright, that they could redeem themselves by their endeavours on the march, and, hopefully, by their valour in the battle that would follow.

  They thanked him as they left and he wondered if he should have been harder on them. Cearan had called him soft: weak. Did he still have the iron core it took to command a legion? Marriage and fatherhood subtly changed a man. He became less angry at the world and at himself. Perhaps a commander needed that anger. The legate of his first legion had once told him that a legion commanded by officers who wanted to be liked by their men was a legion ripe for defeat. Yet the Ninth was a wounded legion that needed time to heal. You didn’t heal wounds by wielding the whip. He remembered something else the man had said: ‘There will be a day when your soldiers are mere coins to be spent. What will you do then, when you know you must order them into the abyss?’

  Before he had time to come up with an answer he heard a commotion outside the tent and a familiar voice shrill with excitement. Tabitha walked in, smiling and pulling at the pins holding her shawl in place. ‘This fashion for respectable married women to always have their heads covered is so annoying I may decide not to be respectable any longer.’ Her lips twitched. ‘Or perhaps not married. What kind of man makes his wife travel a hundred miles to Viroconium and then a dozen more on a farm track to camp in a muddy field?’

  ‘A man who didn’t have any choice in the matter.’ He took her in his arms and kissed her, feeling the telltale bump against his lower stomach. ‘Are you well, lady?’

  ‘Ceris says I am built for childbirth,’ she said with airy self-mockery, ‘but I’m not sure whether that is a compliment or an insult. My breath is fresh, my skin is soft as rose petals and … well, that is something we ladies do not discuss.’

  Valerius grinned. ‘A compliment, then. In any case, what would you have done if I’d left orders for you to stay in Viroconium?’

  ‘I would have smiled at Governor Agricola in a certain way, suggested that a woman’s place was with her husband and be standing here now, of course. Is it true there is no bathhouse?’

  ‘This is a temporary camp, not a military rest home. We bathe in the lake at the bottom of the hill, though it can be crowded.’

  ‘A pity,’ she sighed. ‘I’d hoped to smell a little sweeter tonight. It is good to see you, husband.’

  ‘And you, my love,’ he whispered.

  ‘It is permitted to stay the night?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Only the governor suggested we may be parted for some time.’

  He raised her chin and saw the glint of tears in the corners of her eyes. ‘You don’t insist on coming with us?’

  ‘That would be irresponsible. Agricola said it could be dangerous and I know you would never place your family in danger.’

  ‘Your beauty is only outshone by your judgement.’

  ‘Agricola tells me—’

  ‘I hope I see you well, Father.’ They turned to see Lucius standing in the doorway holding the hand of Didius Gallus.

  ‘Very well, Lucius. I do believe you have grown an inch since I last saw you.’

  The boy grinned and broke away from his friend to inspect the room, studying the replacement wall hangings – pastoral scenes – and a painted marble bust of Vespasian. Valerius thanked the gods he’d had the sense to have the originals removed. He doubted Tabitha’s greeting would have been as warm if she’d seen them.

  ‘Didius, tell the kitchens to prepare a meal for us, but check with Ceris first to find out what is suitable for the lady.’ He waited until Didius and Lucius had left the room before he turned back to Tabitha. ‘You were talking of Agricola?’

  ‘Before I left he hinted at some great mystery.’ The statement held a question and her eyes told him she wouldn’t take no for an answer. It struck him that Tabitha’s quick mind and her experience as a special agent of Queen Berenice of Silicia might be useful in the next few hours. She had tracked down the fabled Book of Enoch to the Great Temple in Jerusalem and thwarted the turncoat Judaean general Josephus to take ownership of it.

  ‘It involves the death of my predecessor,’ he admitted. ‘A man with many enemies who had an unfortunate accident. My second in command will join me soon to discuss it.’

  ‘I’m intrigued,’ she said. ‘Would it be improper of me to sit somewhere close by and listen to what is said?’

  Valerius knew Naso was a proud man who would be uneasy and less forthcoming if the legate’s lady was in the room with them. But if he didn’t know …‘Terribly improper.’ He smiled. ‘But I would be grateful if you’d give me your impression of what he says.’

  Valerius’s clerk announced Gaius Quintus Naso and Valerius rose from the campaign table to meet him.

  ‘Please sit.’ Valerius waited until the camp prefect took his place. ‘We talked of my late predecessor earlier. A man with powerful friends.’ Naso nodded. ‘I’m sure you have done everything possible to investigate the circumstances of his death, but the governor has asked me to go over the details with you.’ The natural question to ask was if Naso thought there was anything suspicious about Fronto’s accident, but that might channel his train of thought a certain way. The lawyer in Valerius preferred to hear what happened untainted by any hint of suggestion. ‘Tell me in as much detail as possible what you have managed to piece together about that night.’

  Naso ran the back of his hand over his lips in a nervous gesture, but once he’d gathered his thoughts his voice was steady enough.

  ‘It started as a normal day, but Agricola’s aides had been out on patrol with one of our cavalry squadrons and the legate fretted that they might have noticed some imperfection. The concern made him more irascible than usual and he had the cavalry commander in his office threatening to have him whipped if he could not repeat every word they had said. He became obsessed with discovering what they thought. He decided the best way to do it was to hold a dinner for all the officers, get the men from the Twentieth drunk and charm it out of them.’ A weary smile greeted Valerius’s raised eyebrows. ‘Yes, I know, but he could be like that. One minute purring like a cat, the next roaring like a lion. It was one of the things that made him so difficult.’

  ‘And did this plan work?’

  Naso shook his head. �
��We all got fairly drunk, but the legate more than anyone. His attempts to squeeze information from Agricola’s aides became increasingly embarrassing.’ He frowned at the memory. ‘I regret to say that he became quite amorous with one of them. Oddly, the aide didn’t seem to take offence, but the second man pleaded he needed to start his report for the governor and left early, accompanied by Tribune Martialis who had early duty the following day. I stayed another hour before making my excuses, and the first aide and my other two tribunes left perhaps an hour later.’

  ‘So Fronto was alone?’

  ‘Apart from his servants. A guard on the west rampart saw the legate a short time before his relief came along. Fronto was disorientated and staggering and the man left his post to offer help. The legate charged him with deserting his post and said he’d have him crucified. That was the last time anyone saw him alive.’

  ‘And someone discovered his corpse the next day?’

  ‘The next morning. A standing patrol of auxiliary cavalry check the immediate surroundings of the camp at first light every day. There’s a sharp drop to the south of the complex, hidden by the shoulder of the hill. The body was found lying at the bottom of the slope.’

  ‘And where is the body now?’

  ‘We cremated the remains with due ceremony the next day, as is the custom.’ Naso’s voice took on a defensive note. ‘We dispatched his ashes to Governor Agricola as soon as they were cold.’ Valerius stared at him, wondering why Agricola hadn’t thought to mention Fronto’s ashes during their conversation. ‘Our chief medicus and two of his assistants examined the body and all three confirmed the cause of death as a broken neck.’

  Valerius sat back for a moment, trying to picture the scene and what had preceded it. The drunken Fronto staggering through the camp, out of the gate and into the darkness. Why? Something wasn’t right here. A slip, a stumble, the plunge into the void.

  ‘How steep is the cliff?’

  ‘Steep, but I wouldn’t quite call it a cliff. A man could climb down it relatively easily in daylight.’

  ‘And a broken neck was his only injury.’

  ‘Apart from a few bruises, yes.’

  ‘I’d like to visit the scene.’

  ‘Of course.’ Naso rose, clearly relieved. ‘I’ll put together an escort right away. They’ll be waiting by the gate.’

  Idiot! ‘Wait. You said the guard on the rampart was the last man to see the legate alive?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Then how did he get out of the fort? Only the main gate is open after dark. Surely it was guarded?’

  ‘Of course, sir. Four men at all times, day and night. That’s the mystery. None of them saw him go and we have no idea how he left.’

  XXXIV

  ‘What did you think of Naso’s story?’ Valerius helped Tabitha into her cloak when she emerged, looking thoughtful, from behind the curtain into the bedroom.

  ‘He was telling the truth, I think, at least as far as the facts were concerned, but I sensed he was trying to hide his own doubts.’ Valerius nodded. The same thought had occurred to him. ‘What I would really like to know is how the legate of a Roman legion could walk out of his own fort without a single one of his men seeing him. Is there a way other than the main gate?’

  ‘I inspected the defences with Naso when I arrived. They are just as you’d expect in enemy country, even in a temporary camp. A stray mouse couldn’t cross the rampart without being challenged.’

  ‘The other gates?’

  ‘I’m assured they were all closed.’

  ‘You must talk to the guards on the main gate, then.’

  ‘I intend to.’ They emerged from the praetorium into the anaemic sunshine of a day neither autumn nor winter, but caught somewhere between. The first true frost had coated the earth a hoary white that morning, enough to leave any basin left out overnight with a skin of ice, and the east wind whipped down the valley in short, chilling bursts. ‘But first I think we should see where he died. I have some thoughts about that.’

  Felix, Hilario, Shabolz and Crescens, fully armoured and with hands on sword hilts, formed a protective shield around them and Naso led the way to the main gate. Valerius studied the stolid, impassive faces of the gate guards and wondered if these were the same men who’d been on duty the night Fronto died. Probably not, but he’d find out.

  He greeted the men of the escort and thanked them for their devotion to Tabitha. ‘Everything went well, decurion?’

  ‘By your leave, lord.’ Felix dropped back to take step beside him. ‘Well enough. We had no problems,’ he hesitated and glanced at Shabolz, ‘but there was a suggestion someone might have been watching us. We saw movement in the hills two or three times, but could never pin down the culprit.’

  ‘Most of the way, on and off,’ Shabolz confirmed. ‘He was there, but we could never quite get close to him. Like a fox, that one.’

  ‘But we’re secure enough now.’ Tabitha squeezed his hand. ‘At the heart of your legion.’

  ‘Perhaps, but why take chances? When you leave here tomorrow I’ll provide a squadron of Thracian cavalry who are due to return to Viroconium. And Felix?’

  ‘Lord?’

  ‘While the lady is staying at the Twentieth’s fort, I want two of our men with her at all times.’

  The sound of horses interrupted them as a group of riders forced their way up the slope from the lake. At their head Valerius was surprised to see the governor’s diligent young aide who had welcomed them to Londinium. He reined in, slipped from his horse and approached with a broad smile to give Valerius the customary salute.

  ‘Metilius Aprilis, at your service. I apologize for not being here to welcome you on behalf of the governor, legate,’ he doubled in an elegant bow, ‘and lady. He asked us to bring back a comprehensive plan of the surrounding area and I’ve been in the saddle for three days.’

  ‘So he sent you to report on the qualities of the Ninth.’ Valerius returned his smile. ‘And what have you learned?’

  Aprilis sent a wary glance in Naso’s direction and leaned closer. ‘I would say there is room for improvement, lord, but from what I understand there is no better qualified commander to bring out the best in them.’

  Valerius ignored the flattery. ‘And my predecessor?’

  Aprilis handed his reins to a groom who had run from the fort, and joined the little procession under the suspicious eyes of Valerius’s escort. ‘In all conscience I do not like to criticize someone so recently dead, but he was a difficult man to respect, never mind like. I dined with him the night before his accident and had to leave early because of a prior commitment, but I confess I had tired of his ill-bred and inappropriate behaviour.’

  ‘May I ask the nature of your commitment?’

  Aprilis showed no surprise at the question. ‘My colleague and I had agreed I should make a snap inspection of the guards that night, specifically the gate guards. I went back to my quarters and changed into uniform. Later, when I was carrying out my inspection, I heard Legate Fronto threatening to crucify some poor fellow.’

  ‘At what time would that be, approximately?’

  ‘Shortly before the second change of guard. I had timed my inspection for the period when the guards were most likely to be relaxed, but I was perfectly satisfied with their conduct and I intended to transmit that to the legate the following day.’

  By now they were breasting the shoulder of a hill about two hundred paces from the fort’s main gate.

  ‘Thank you, tribune,’ Valerius said. ‘My lady.’ He ushered Tabitha through the escort and increased his pace until they caught up with Naso. At the top of the rise they could see down to a crumbling edge where the side of the hill had fallen away, leaving an almost vertical, boulder-strewn slope.

  Naso pointed to a spot about ten paces ahead and five paces below. ‘We believe Legate Fronto fell from here. I ordered a sack of grain to be left to mark the position of the body.’

  ‘If you will excuse us, prefect. T
he lady also has some experience in these situations and I would like her to view the scene. ‘ Valerius took Tabitha’s hand and they picked their way through the tussock grass down to the edge of the slope under the curious eyes of the escort and the two officers.

  When they reached the lip, Valerius looked down to where a sack lay on a patch of nettles just beyond the lowest boulders of the landslip. ‘Not a long way to fall,’ he said quietly to Tabitha.

  ‘Far enough to kill him.’

  Valerius looked at his feet and the line between them and the sack. ‘Perhaps.’ He knelt on the crumbling edge and studied the turf. ‘He must have walked along here, but there’s nothing to show that he slipped.’ He straightened and stared at the slope again.

  ‘That means nothing. He was drunk. All he needed to do was lose his balance, but …’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘There are his injuries.’

  ‘Or lack of them. That sack seems a long way out. Is it as far as it looks?’

  ‘There’s only one way to find out.’ Valerius crouched so he could sit on the very lip of the slope and then lowered himself until his feet found solid ground. He looked up at his wife and grinned. ‘There are only two situations when I really regret only having one hand. This is one of them.’

  He turned and half climbed, half slid down the incline, using his left hand to anchor himself as he moved from boulder to boulder. As he went he checked the surfaces of the stones for blood or anything that would mark the progress of a tumbling body, but he saw nothing. When he reached the bottom, the sack was perhaps a single pace away, about the length of a cavalry spatha. ‘And this is exactly where Fronto’s body lay?’ he called up to Naso.

  ‘It marks the position of his chest. The body lay north–south.’

  Valerius stared up to where Tabitha stood and he saw her slowly nod. He made his way back up the slope and dusted off his hands and clothing before they returned to the others.

  ‘Well?’ Naso said as they approached. ‘Are you satisfied?’

  ‘Yes, prefect,’ Valerius assured him. ‘I’m perfectly satisfied that Legate Caristanius Fronto, commander of the Ninth legion, was murdered.’