Revenge

by Andrew Frediani

  The Tribune announced that Octavian would give up the consulate, granted to him only two months ago, to become part of a new judiciary, which was required to address the serious problems facing the State and the civil war. A judiciary, he stated, which also sanctioned the harmony and unity of purpose of the men most able to ensure the stability of the Republic for the common good and against partisan interests. The young man listened patiently to the empty words that they had ordered Titius to say – platitudes and cliches thrown to the crowd to re-assure them. If the will of the people had really been important, they would never have been allowed to express it. Ordinary people were like a mass of children who had to be guided – they lived without being able to provide for themselves, unable to conceive of grand designs, and it was for that reason they needed men like him – men capable of providing for those needs which they themselves were unable to satisfy.

  When the tribune finished speaking and gave the order to vote, Octavian felt certain that this was a huge step forward from the acquisition of the consulate two months before. And it was such, despite the need to share power, this time with two very dangerous individuals. He had before him five years of assured dominion.

  Another important step towards the invincibility of himself and his sect.

  Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, Mark Antony and Caesar Octavian, elected to restore order to the State, hereby establish the following. If the malefactors, once pardoned, had not become first enemies of, and then conspirators against, their benefactor, they would not have killed Caesar, who after having defeated them upon the field of battle had spared them out of mercy, had made friends of them, had bestowed upon them honours and public office and had showered them with gifts, and we, for our part, would not need to resort to these measures against those who attacked us and declared us enemies of the state. But now, as we see with the attacks upon us and the injustice suffered by Caesar, that evil will not allow goodness to triumph, we prefer to strike our enemies first rather than be struck. Let none then consider our actions unjust, cruel or disproportionate, yet remember what Caesar suffered and what we too have suffered. In the midst of the sacred building of the Senate, under the eyes of the gods, they killed with twenty-three dagger wounds Caesar, the dictator and Pontifex Maximus, who had defeated and subjugated the nations most feared by the Romans and was the first among men to cross beyond the Pillars of Hercules into the unsailed sea, discovering unknown lands. These lands, conquered by him in war and then spared, were in part included in his will as the estate of his heirs. And even after this sacrilege, instead of punishing the wicked ones, the others honoured them, and granted them political or military office which the killers used to loot public funds with which they are now raising an army against us even while they request another from the barbarians, those eternal enemies of our empire. They have burned cities subject to Roman rule, and destroyed and razed to the ground those who would not follow them. They have terrorized the others and incited them against our homeland and against us.

  “You’re with Octavian Caesar, aren’t you?” The young man got as close to Maecenas as the Etruscan’s bodyguards permitted and tried to attract his attention while behind him the crier, just as in many other parts of the city, read the decree of proscription which was intended to re-assure the population.

  Maecenas was annoyed. He was always annoyed when someone approached him, unless he had been the first to make the move, and at that moment he had a great deal on his mind. He was determined to find Horace and confide in him his idea of disseminating his work – and above all to have a pretext for continuing to see him. He had tried to find him, but so far without luck. Moreover, it was not easy in this climate of terror: his unit had been ordered by Mark Antony to oversee the entrances to the city so that the outlaws, who numbered almost three hundred senators and Equites, would not be able to escape as soon as they discovered that their names were on the lists on the walls.

  “Perhaps I am. Why?” he answered, after some hesitation.

  “I saw you with him in the voting for the judiciary triumvirate today,” said the young man. From his clothes and manners, it was clear that he belonged to a wealthy family. “I… I want to make a complaint…”

  “One of the outlaws who appears in the lists?”

  “Not exactly… You see… those lists are incomplete. There are other men who supported Caesar’s assassins and conspired to overthrow the state.”

  Maecenas sighed. Predictably, given what had happened with Silla’s proscriptions, there were those who attempted to take advantage of the situation to settle their own accounts. “That cannot be established by the common citizen, as you can well understand,” he explained patiently. “Proof is needed…” In reality that was what he was required to say: the triumvirate desperately needed money, since Caesar’s murderers were procuring it using the most illicit means, but the idea that people who had not been involved in the assassination of Caesar and had not supported his murderers should suffer revolted him. He, at least, demanded evidence of any purported collusion.

  “But I’ve got proof!” said the young man, with conviction. “In the days after the Ides of March, I saw my father Turanius receive the Bucilianus brothers several times at home.”

  The Etruscan gave a grimace of contempt. The Bucilianus brothers were among those responsible for the twenty-three stab wounds in the Curia of Pompey. “You’re accusing your father, then?”

  “Certainly,” replied the boy, without embarrassment.

  Maecenas sighed. This young man would do anything to get his hands on his inheritance. “You know that you will only receive a part of the family property if your father is convicted? A part will be confiscated and will go to the state to support the costs of the civil war.”

  “I realise that. But even one part is better than what I have now and will have for many years. My father is young.”

  “Tell me, lad,” he asked, “for how long did the conspirators come to your house?”

  “How long? I don’t remember… A couple of months, I think. Yes, yes – just a couple of months. “

  “Disappear now or I’ll have you arrested! The Bucilianus brother left Rome as soon as Caesar’s will was opened,” said Maecenas, turning to walk away and gesturing to his guards to free him from this nuisance.

  “But it’s true! Perhaps I remember incorrectly, perhaps it was only a week or a few days, but they were there, really they were!” protested the boy, untroubled by the bad impression he had made. “I saw them! And my father is still giving seditious speeches! You must proscribe him!”

  A soldier pushed him away, sending him sprawling to the ground, but he continued, “It won’t end here! I’ll go by the triumvir in person! I’m sure that he will listen to me!”

  Maecenas shook his head. He had no doubt that sooner or later that wretched creature would find ears willing to listen to him. His father’s fate was sealed, even if all he was guilty of was possessing assets which were coveted by his own son. And if his own son coveted them, he could imagine how much the triumvirate would. If the boy went to Lepidus or Mark Antony – or even the more venal of their lieutenants, so eager to prove themselves efficient – he would be on fertile ground for sure. The same would probably happen if he went to Salvidienus Rufus. He was annoyed to admit it, because he was a minister of the sect, but Rufus was thoroughly unscrupulous, and he had the impression that the proscriptions would bring out the worst in him.

  Just then, he saw a citizen run by carrying a still-bleeding head by the hair. He was heading in the direction of the forum, where he probably expected to get his reward.

  The proscriptions wouldn’t bring out the worst only of Rufus. Maecenas had the impression that they would bring out the worst of the entire city.

  Some have already been punished, and as for the others, you will see that – with the help of the gods – they will now pay for their sins. But though the larger part of the undertakings have already been completed or are nearing completion in
Spain, Gaul and here at home, one more remains: that of taking the war to Caesar’s assassins across the seas. In preparing to serve your interests by fighting a war far from here, it would seem unwise, both for you and for ourselves, to leave behind us other enemies who might exploit our absence to seize the opportunities offered by circumstance, just as it would to waste valuable time dealing with them in such urgent times, so it is therefore opportune to eliminate all those who undertook the war against us when we were declared enemies of the state.

  “I would get picked to look after this idiot,” said Agrippa to himself while the crier, busy reading the decree of the proscription, walked ahead of him towards the house they were about to enter. The subject in question was Popillius Laenas, the centurion who had come to the camp near Bologna to take Gaius Chaerea’s place. The officer had shown himself to be such an enthusiastic supporter of Octavian that his friend had decided to keep him close with an eye to drafting him into the cult of Mars Ultor, and with the beginning of the executions he had seen fit to entrust him with killing the tribune Salvius. A delicate task, since Salvius was not only a magistrate but one with a sacred and inviolable role, and his death might raise a great deal of criticism and protest. Perhaps that was why Octavian did not want one of his own men to get his hands dirty. Agrippa had to be the ‘observer’. He had tried to refuse the assignment, but his friend had made it clear that Salvius was one of those Mark Antony wanted rid of, for his having taken Cicero’s side during the writing of the Philippicae. It was a kind of ‘obligatory’ favour and it had to be done properly. Popillius Laenas seemed the right person for the job. He wasn’t too bright, was devoid of scruples and was sufficiently motivated. And unsurprisingly, he hadn’t turned a hair when he was told who he was to execute. Agrippa was merely to be present in disguise, dressed as a legionary, without any authority to intervene unless things turned unpleasant.

  The centurion knocked loudly on the front door, which opened almost immediately.

  “Come in, gentlemen – you are expected,” said the slave at the door, inviting them to enter. Laenas gave Agrippa a confused glance then decided not to show any hesitation and strode into the vestibule, ordering the other soldiers to follow him. Agrippa followed, bringing up the rear, until they entered the triclinium. When they entered, the dining room was full of people lounging on the sofas and staring at them in shock and fear – some dropped the food they were picking at, while others spilled the wine they were drinking.

  “Which one of you is the tribune Salvius?” asked Laenas immediately, waving his sword under the noses of more than one of the guests. Another thing Agrippa thought unnecessary.

  “I am. And you need not threaten my guests,” said the tribune in a firm voice, proudly rising to his feet. “As you can see, I was ready to receive you.”

  “Good,” said Laenas, visibly irritated by the offender’s dignity. “You have made my job easier.” He approached him. “You are an enemy of the state and I am commissioned to execute you on the spot.”

  At his announcement, the guests became agitated and began screaming in anger and fear. Evidently they had already been at the table at midday when the lists of proscriptions which had been posted on the walls of the city had been read out. Unlike their host, they had not imagined that Salvius might be a target of the triumvirate. Laenas gestured to his soldiers to position themselves around the tables and sofas, and began to bang his sword on the nearest table, knocking to the ground trays full of rich dishes.

  “Silence, all of you!” he shouted, “or you’ll all go the same way. You have been found in the house of a traitor to the state! I could consider this a hotbed of sedition, and Salvius might not be the only one to be executed!” And so saying, he pointed his sword at the neck of an old man who was one of those protesting most vehemently. The man shut up immediately and opened his eyes wide, drops of sweat instantly beading his forehead.

  He was going completely over the top, so Agrippa tried to attract his attention with a wave of his hand, and motioned with his head to go more gently, but the centurion was behaving like a man possessed and did not seem to notice. Salvius spoke again, inviting his friends to stay calm. “My guests have nothing to do with me nor with my actions, centurion,” he said trying to keep his voice calm. “I am here because, after learning of the triumvirate, I quickly realised I could no longer escape the revenge of Mark Antony and, fearing that I might never see them again, I wanted to have dinner with them one last time. Please disturb them no longer and allow them to leave before you do what you must.”

  Agrippa thought it was a reasonable request, but Laenas scowled. “I don’t think so,” he snapped. “The condemned must also serve as an example. Let all present see what happens to those who attempt to subvert the state and spread the word. And remember that if they do not toe the line, they will suffer the same fate! Now kneel down and rest your head on the table, quickly!”

  Agrippa was increasingly irked by Laenas’s intimidating attitude, but he had received clear orders: he was to intervene only in the event that the situation got out of hand. Octavian wanted to see what Laenas was capable of and, for the moment, he still seemed to be in control of the situation, despite his somewhat questionable methods.

  Salvius looked at the centurion with pleading eyes and an expression of consternation. “At least let my wife and my mother leave. Please do not make them witness the death of their loved one.”

  A cruel light appeared in the centurion’s eyes when, looking around, he realised who the two women the tribune had named were. “They made the mistake of giving birth to and of marrying a traitor. Witnessing his execution is the least that they deserve!” He took a step towards the man’s elderly mother who was still lying on the sofa, his imposing figure towering over her, and whispered, loud enough for Agrippa to hear, “You hear me, you old bitch?” Then he grabbed her by the hair and put his blade to her throat. “So are you going to put your head on the table or not?” he asked the tribune again.

  There were cries and screams now, more from the women than from the men. Agrippa quivered with indignation. No, Laenas was not suitable material for the sect: too cruel and sadistic, fanatical to the point of madness and no sharer of the ideals that guided the secret society’s aims. It was all he could do not to punch him. “Stop, centurion,” he managed to say, breaking the order not to intervene. “Just get it done.”

  The centurion looked at him and, still caught up in his wrath, was about to reply, before realising that it was not one of his soldiers who spoke. He let go of the woman and walked towards the tribune, who was waiting for him, still standing upright and staring at him. Laenas did not say a word, but simply raised his sword and cut through the neck of the victim horizontally, severing his head with one clean blow. The shouts of those present accompanied the fall of his head onto the table, while his body remained standing for a moment like a fountain from whose neck gushed copious amounts of blood. In an instant the guests in the tribune’s triclinium found themselves covered in vermilion liquid while Salvius’s head bounced off the table and fell to the ground, rolling towards his wife’s feet. The woman fainted, and immediately the others rushed to her aid. Ignoring them, Laenas stepped over her, picked up the tribune’s head by its hair and headed for the door. He turned around before crossing the threshold. “Woe to you if you move. Anyone who makes a move now will suffer the same treatment,” he said, before leaving, gesturing to the soldiers to follow him.

  He waited for Agrippa to join him outside and his face was that of a fanatic, ‘Good job, eh? You’ll tell the triumvirate, won’t you?”

  Agrippa looked at the head with a nauseated expression, then stared the centurion in the eye, without concealing his disgust. But Laenas was so pleased with himself that he didn’t even notice.

  “You can be sure that I will tell him, centurion,” was all Agrippa answered.

  It was their intention to eliminate, along with us, many thousands of people, without regard to the punishmen
t of the gods or the contempt of men; we do not blame so many, nor indicate as enemies all those who have opposed or have plotted against us, and we care nothing for the riches they enjoyed. Though it is inevitable that three people must have more than one enemy, we will not send to death as many as did another dictator before Caesar and before us, he too engaged in a civil war to restore the state and who, for his achievements, earned the nickname ‘Felix’. We will punish only the worst and those who have been the cause of all. Although we could arrest without warning those we have decided to strike, we have preferred to render the list public instead of taking them by surprise; we do this for you, so that the soldiers, in the excitement of their anger, do not allow themselves to take out their excesses upon the innocent, but, possessing the lists of the names of the wanted, abstain, in accordance with their orders, from attacking others.

  The more they killed now the fewer they would have to face in the future, thought Rufus as he listened to the crier’s decree. The fate of Caesar had proved beyond any reasonable doubt the harmfulness of clemency, amnesties and pardons: all nice ideas that only served to let your enemy escape so he could return later and stab you in the back, or just make your life difficult. He had been the first to congratulate Octavian when his friend had told him that the agreement with Mark Antony and Lepidus also included proscriptions like those introduced by Silla, and precisely because he was the idea’s most enthusiastic supporter, he willingly threw himself first hand into the task of finding the proscribed: he was a man of action and would never have stood by idly doing nothing in the palaces of power while civil war against Caesar’s murderers raged in Rome.