Invictus

by Simon Scarrow

  ‘Ten million?’ Macro started. ‘Isn’t that—’

  Cato caught his arm swiftly and hurriedly spoke over the top of his friend. ‘Ten million? You’re sure?’

  She nodded. ‘No great secret, that. It’s all over Rome.’

  She set the jug down. ‘Anything else I can get you gents?’

  ‘No. That’ll be all for now. Thanks.’ Cato tipped her a sestertius and she smiled gratefully and weaved back through the tables towards the counter.

  Cato leaned back against the wall and folded his arms as he thought through the implications of what had occurred in Rome during their absence. The more he thought, the more he saw the depth of the plans that Pallas had made to secure the throne for his young protégé.

  Macro took a large sip of wine and swilled it round his mouth before he swallowed. ‘You thinking what I’m thinking, lad?’

  ‘I can’t think of anything else. We were played. All of us. From Emperor Claudius and Narcissus right down to you and me at the arse end of the empire . . . Fuck. That’s why we were picked for the campaign. Us, and all the others. The officers they wanted off the scene when they made their move. Including those that Narcissus might call upon if he tried to push Britannicus’ candidacy for the throne.’

  Macro sniffed. ‘And why Vitellius chose us to go to the mine. That should have been a one-way journey for the pair of us . . . Either Iskerbeles or Pulcher would have seen to it that we never saw Rome again. And then there’s the silver. Nepo must have been in on the plot. That’s why he sent it on and just pretended to have been gathering it ready for the next bullion convoy. And that’s why he had to be silenced.’

  Cato rubbed his chin anxiously. ‘Exactly. It all makes sense now.’ He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, this time in a hushed tone that only Macro would hear. ‘We’re in deep trouble. Narcissus is dead, and Pallas knows that we worked for him from time to time. We’re marked men.’

  ‘But we had no choice,’ Macro protested. ‘Narcissus forced us into it.’

  ‘I doubt that’s going to make much difference to Pallas . . . Fuck.’

  Macro took another sip and sighed. ‘Like you say, fuck. What are we going to do, lad?’

  Cato thought for a moment and shook his head. ‘What can we do? We have to return to Rome and we’ll just have to see what happens. Better make an offering to the Gods, brother. Something valuable enough that they really can’t ignore it.’ Cato took his cup and drained it in one go before he set it down on the table with a sharp rap. ‘Life is about to get very interesting. Very interesting indeed.’

  ‘Bloody dangerous, you mean?’

  ‘Surely. That’s how the dice seem to roll for us . . . Always.’

  THE END

  AUTHOR’S NOTE ON THE PRAETORIAN GUARD

  Despite the notorious reputation of the Praetorian Guard across the years, the origins of what became the elite formation of the Roman military were far more humble and practical. In the Republic age the term for a consul acting as a military commander on campaign was ‘Praetor’. Those who accompanied him, his friends, staff and personal bodyguards, were collectively known as his ‘Praetorian Guard’.

  It is probable that such formations were fairly small scale and temporary in the earlier days of the Roman Republic. However, with the rapid expansion of Roman influence before, during and after the wars with Carthage, the Roman army took on an increasingly permanent and professional identity. This included the bodyguards of the ambitious generals of the late Republic. By the time of the final contest between Octavian and Antony, both leaders had bodyguards organised into several cohorts which accompanied them on campaign and fought in battles with some distinction.

  Following the defeat of Antony, Octavian took on the title of Augustus and became the first emperor, although he did as much as he could to preserve the illusion that Rome still operated as a republic. In an effort to unite the forces that had been fighting each other for many years, one of the measures undertaken by Augustus was the amalgamation of his Praetorian units with those of Antony to create what became known as the Praetorian Guard.

  The duties of the Guard were to protect the person of the emperor both in Rome, and on the various imperial peregrinations and while on campaign. They could also be deployed in Rome to control the mob if necessary, and to discourage plotters and stamp down on dissent. In addition they acted as imperial death squads when required. In the early days, Augustus did his best to conceal the true scale of his power. Hence, his reference to himself as ‘first citizen’ rather than any more ambitious title. The same approach applied to the Guard. Only three cohorts were based in Rome, billeted across the city, rather than in ostentatious central barracks. The other cohorts were garrisoned in nearby towns, ready to be summoned to Rome if the need arose.

  This low-key approach may have suited Augustus, but on his death it became clear to all that the Republic was dead and that Rome would be ruled by emperors. Augustus was succeeded by his step-son, Tiberius, who favoured, and then came to rely on, the prefect of the Guard, Sejanus. It was Sejanus who was responsible for the rather unsavoury role the Guard was to play thenceforth. One of his early ‘achievements’ was to persuade the new emperor to concentrate the Guard cohorts at Rome, and build a camp for them on the Viminal Hill, much of which still remains. There was no limit to the ambition of Sejanus who carefully schemed his way towards his eventual goal of becoming the heir of Tiberius. Rivals and those who posed a threat were ruthlessly disposed of. It was only in AD 31 that Tiberius finally recognised the threat and had Sejanus executed.

  By now it was acknowledged that the Guard had considerable power and had to be handled carefully by the emperors. Sadly Tiberius’ successor – the unhinged Caligula – failed to learn the lesson and made the mistake of ridiculing a senior officer of the Guard so much that the individual in question, Chaerea, conspired to murder Caligula and his immediate family. Like so many conspirators, Chaerea failed to plan much further ahead than the death of the Emperor and there was a great deal of confusion in Rome during the immediate aftermath. The Senate was busily debating the need to return to the days of the Republic while the Guard looted the palace in anticipation of being made redundant in the event that their services might no longer be required. As it happened, some guardsmen came across a cowering survivor of the imperial family, Claudius, and carted him off to the Praetorian Camp. Claudius (or more likely one of his advisers – take a bow, Narcissus) had sufficient wit to suggest that if the Praetorians supported his claim to succeed Caligula then he would ensure that they were handsomely rewarded. And rewarded they were. To the tune of a bribe representing five years’ pay for every man in the Guard. This was not the first time that their loyalty had been bought. Tiberius had gifted each man a thousand denarii after the execution of Sejanus to sweeten the pill of the execution of their commander. But the bribe paid by Claudius firmed up the precedent and from now on the Praetorian Guard were the most loyal of men . . . that money could buy.

  Life in the Praetorian Guard was as comfortable as it got in the Roman army. The guardsmen were paid three times as much as legionaries, served for fewer years and received a larger discharge bonus when they retired. They enjoyed good accommodation and privileged seating at chariot races and gladiator fights. While the higher ranks were tempted to wield their political influence the rankers were content to remain neutral, as long as their direct interests were not compromised. Which was why emperors treated them to frequent rewards.

  To join the Guard a man needed to be fit and of good character. Some men were transferred to the Guard from the legions as a reward for good service. Like the legions, the Guard trained hard and could fight well if called on to do so. They played a brief part in the campaign in Britannia in AD 43 for example.

  There is some dispute over the size of the Praetorian cohorts, but it is reasonable to assume that they were
on the same scale as those of the rest of the army. Each of the cohorts was commanded by a tribune, rather than the senior centurion of the formation. The main difference in detail was that they wore off-white tunics as opposed to the red or brown of the legions. There is plenty of evidence to suggest that their shields were oval, rather than rectangular, like those of the legions. For the purpose of this book I have gone with representations of the guardsmen holding spears as opposed to javelins since spears would be more useful for intimidating the mob in Rome, which was one of the Guard’s key functions.

  Although this novel is set in the early period of the empire, by that time the central position of the Praetorian Guard in the political world of Rome was firmly established and woe betide any emperor who failed to keep the men of the Guard onside.