I nodded. “If it is possible,” I answered, “we would welcome you in the fourth. Though,” I told him, “you might not enjoy the service.”
“Anything is preferable to this,” he hissed.
“Go below, and stay with the others,” I told him. I nodded at Wandal, who hesitated. I gave him a reassuring look and smiled. “I shall leave him whole.”
They left, and I kneeled to wipe my blade on the dead man’s hair. Germanicus’s eyes were round with horror.
I smiled at him in a way that left it clear he was not safe. “I don’t mind your choice in lovers. I truly don’t. Each to his own, and I know enough to know some of the best warriors in the world enjoyed another man. Alexander did.”
He looked sick. “Don’t … leave him be.”
I cut, and took a hank of bloody blond hair to my hands, and threw it over the man’s back. “Why? Some Romans feed men, even friends, to lions.”
He shook his head. “I—”
I waved the arrow around the room. “What is this place? Livia bought it for you?”
He blushed. “I … she …”
“Read you a long time ago, didn’t she,” I asked. “She coaxed you on, gave you her ear, and understood you like men—"
“I like both men and women,” he said with a small voice. “I loved him.”
His eyes were on the dead one.
I nodded as I toed the corpse. “Livia introduced you. You are young, are you not?”
“I am also a lord,” he said with some nastiness, “and like to choose my toys.”
“Livia, I guess, gave you a place to play with your toys,” I told him, “and then suggested you pay her back?”
He was quiet.
I walked to him.
“Yes!” he answered.
“You tried to—"
“She suggested I might be a better ruler than Gaius. And Lucius, of course,” he said. “Told me she would arrange everything, and told me what to do. I am sorry!”
I pointed at the wound in my neck, and cheek. “That lion, see?”
He looked down, rubbing his fingers.
“You are a shit,” I told him. “A little, useless shit. A murdering little shit. Your father—"
“Loved me!”
“Would have wanted me to give you a beating,” I snarled.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
But I did. I put away my sword, grabbed him by his hair, and stretched him over my knee and beat his flailing, struggling arms until he stopped fighting, and beat him with the arrow until his rear bled and he wept. Then I dropped him, and panting, straightened. “You shall go home to Antonia. You will tell her you were attacked. Perhaps by robbers, or drunks. Tell them Guards tried to help, but were murdered. Then you will stay there, and out of sight.”
He was sobbing. “Will you not tell—"
“I will keep this shit-secret, for now. So will the others.”
His eyes were huge, as he was trying to understand what I had said. “Why?”
“None of your fucking business, boy,” I snarled. “Keep out of—"
“I cannot!” he wept. “She will know something is wrong. She will want to see me!”
I leaned down over him. “Be sick for a week, Germanicus. After that, stay far away from me, and Gaius and Lucius. Best you keep away from all others. We shall put men on you who watch you, not over you. Squeal, and I will have Ulrich and others tell everything you have done. You keep your mouth shut, and I shall let you live. For your father.”
He was nodding, trying to crawl to his clothes. I tossed the bloody arrow next to him.
He wept softly, kissed the head goodbye, and we left.
As we walked, Tudrus spoke. “Livia will know eventually. You know that.”
“With luck and the help of gods,” I answered, “we have a few days. That is all we need. By that time, we are either dead, or free.”
“Huh?” Tudrus asked.
I turned him and held him by shoulders. “Inside a week, if things go well, your oaths are done. Mine are not, but yours will be. It is time we risk much, and you will live happily and free after.”
CHAPTER 13
Gaius was walking back and forth in the domus of Augustus. Not the usual Roman villa, this one hosted an odd number of rooms and nooks one might easily hide in, and Gaius was in his favorite room to the west. He stayed in a wing next to the one Augustus himself occupied, but he ventured here often for the view. This one had little furniture, but it had a very small balcony, allowing one a magnificent guarded and shaded view to the fields of Mars, the gray and blue, snake-like Tiber, the ever-busy harbor with the constant influx of river traffic, especially wood shipments, and the far away mountains. He had been preparing for his duties diligently, the “leader of the youth” turning into a true Roman official, and while I saw Lollius inciting the young man to heights of eloquence and strength, there was the weaker side of Gaius in control that day, before the meeting with my father’s emissaries. Like his mother, he could feel insecure, terrified, and unhappy, though it had taken time for him to show this side to me. After the near deadly celebrations, which had included hours long gladiator fights in the Circus, he had been trying to study the Marcomanni. I eyed the manuscripts he had available, still open on a table where he had carried them that morning.
While I had dealt with my brother Gernot on several details that my plan called for, he had studied.
Livia had not reacted. Not yet. She would have heard, but she would be shocked to find her usual guards, and Germanicus were not to be found. She would try to guess what had happened. Ulrich was in the Block, pretending to be sick, so he could not be questioned.
I pushed Livia off my mind.
I tried to forget Germanicus, and what he had done. I tried, but couldn’t. Drusus’s son was a murdering shit.
But then, had I not succumbed to Livia as well?
No, it was different.
“What is up with the one called … Tudrus? Yes, that’s the name. He was here last night,” he said, startling me from my thoughts. “Came late to relieve some other brute.” He was still staring out as sparrows shrieked their way across red roofs below the hill. Circus Maximus was awash with streams of people, and riders were mere specks whipping their horses around the great structure, where people were placing bets on horses, waving their hands, and were happy, or broke.
“Tudrus?” I asked, since he had not spoken of my friends before, all of whom took their turns to guard him, but Tudrus had been his guard that night, indeed, exhausted though he was. I adjusted my toga, held my spear steadily and tried to step a bit closer, to make sure he wasn’t speaking to himself. He did that occasionally, suddenly elsewhere. “I am not sure,” I said. “Why? Did he make you uncomfortable? He sometimes lets out gas and--”
He laughed. “He has been … different this past week,” Gaius said. “Like a storm. Then, suddenly, smiling like a fool when one is not watching. It was a storm last night.”
Tudrus was upset because I had told him what I was planning for that week.
“He is in love,” I said instead, deciding Euanthe was a good cover. Tudrus was indeed deeply in love with Euanthe, and they had had trouble like any. Euanthe was no woman to be pushed around. He loved her like smoke loved fire, and while a soldier wasn’t supposed to be married while serving Rome, for the Germani Guard it was all slightly different.
We belonged to Augustus, not Rome.
Exceptions, while not publicized, were made, and many of the men married during the service. Rome was an inviting scene for love, and men were not immune to a smile of a Latin girl, or even a girl from home, since in Rome, all roads met. Many were indeed fathers. Many would, upon being dismissed from the Guard and made into citizens, already have a future occupation in mind, and a house they had purchased and lived in when not on duty or the Block, for years.
I spoke on. “Stormy and fair days, I suppose, can be read on a married man’s face.”
He smiled. “It sh
ows, doesn’t it? Thank you for your advice on … well ...”
I grinned. “I am happy you are pleased. And Livilla as well?”
Apparently, as Tudrus had told me, the pair had made love.
“She claims she is,” he said softly. “I thank you. Livilla and I,” he sighed. “She does make me sort of happy, when she is at ease, and not eager for some favor or attention. Little had it occurred to me, that love making and attention giving calms her down. She will come to Syria with us. It is both relief and regret I feel. It is comforting to know men like Tudrus and you suffer the same.”
Gods, Woden, Donor, I thought, I want my family back and to suffer such sweet troubles.
“Are you prepared for your meeting?” I asked.
He smiled, and rubbed his face. “I shall meet nobody. I merely studied if a question is asked of me. Oh! Mother. I met Mother this morning.”
I froze. They were not supposed to meet. “Did you? Are you sure?”
He nodded and smiled wryly. “I think I know my own mother, Corvus. She was shown to a room, and we met her. She asked questions, though clearly, she had been instructed to ask only appropriate questions, like how my marriage is doing, and if I am eating well. I could almost hear Marcus Lollius asking the questions. But I told her of my life, of my bride, and she listened. She rarely did anything else, anyway, just listened to me talking, and watched me as if trying to remember every crease on my face. She would hold Lucius, and speak with me, and I think during those moments, she was truly happy. Rarely otherwise. I think you are right. She would have enjoyed having us in her life. It is not Tiberius’s fault, no matter what everyone says.”
“It is impossible to say for sure,” I agreed. “Tiberius is not the gentlest soul in Midgard.”
He frowned. “Oh, you call it Midgard.” He winked. “We call it Rome. All of it. Even Germania.”
I rolled my eyes at him, and he chuckled. “She is under guard. She deserves it, but I do feel sorry for her.”
“You can, perhaps, one day decide what is to become of her,” I told him, and he looked intrigued.
“Yes,” he said, wondering. “This is true. One day. I do want her to be happy one day. I think so.”
“Such things,” I began, “are hard choices to make. Mother or not, there are going to be men in Rome who think she should die. I do not envy you. It is a burden, to be sure. I would likely choose to live in peace, doing what I wish or love, rather than rule Rome. Not all men are meant for that business. Some men absolutely disdain it.”
He looked serious. “Lollius says it is one’s destiny, and not all men can choose. That the gods—”
“How can a man,” I wondered, “who hates his occupation, be good at it? Would you buy a sword from a man who disdains weapons? No.”
He smiled and nodded. “Indeed. I have wondered. That is likely why Tiberius left. Did you know mother begged me to ask him for mercy? When we go to Syria, we might stop to see him. She is asking me to ask him to convince Augustus to let her go free. Iullus is held; she is no danger, but they are both very near Hades. She has grown desperate.” He shook his head, morose and angry. “I shall think of it. Though Tiberius is …” He shrugged.
“He is hardly in any position to help, truly,” I agreed.
“He isn’t,” Gaius said softly. “But perhaps it will be arranged.” He gave me a long look. “She actually didn’t only ask proper questions. She made suggestions, like the one I just mentioned. She also told me to be afraid of my grandmother. She didn’t elaborate, but she said it. And when I told her of you, she wept.”
I swallowed, and stood still.
Had she warned him of me?
“She told me to tell you, that you must keep me alive, and that you owe her,” he explained, looking at me with curiosity. “You should make sure to give me an oath.” He got up, and smiled at me, clasping my shoulder. “So, I ask for one.” He lifted his head. “You, out there?”
Wandal opened the door, his eyes round with worry. “Lord?”
“You, and Corvus here will give me an oath,” Gaius said.
I squirmed. “My oaths to Rome—”
“I ask you to give me one,” he answered. “I think this is the only reason my mother wanted to see me. She trusts you. She has been taken away again.”
I watched him, and I felt like a trapped animal. Julia had reached out to me once more, and I could hardly deny Gaius. She knew I had fought being called the Oath Breaker for long years, and yet knew I kept the oaths to the ones I loved.
She knew I would love Gaius.
“I don’t know why she asked for you,” he said simply, “but I think there was something more than friendship between you and her. I know you did your duty, Hraban, to Rome. I trust such a man. Especially men who kill lions. Keep killing lions for me. But I would have your oath, you two. Keep me alive. The business in the Circus …” He shrugged, and looked sick. “I’m afraid.”
Wandal walked to him, and kneeled. “I give you my oath, on my honor, by Woden and Tiw, to fight for you, and to keep you alive, or die doing it.”
I kneeled also. “I also, shall keep you alive, as I did yesterday,” I told him hollowly, and he clapped my shoulder while smiling with relief. We got up, and he left the room in an awkward silence. We followed him out of the house and past a bustle of servants. We walked after Gaius, keeping an eye on the people who stared down the street, towards the south, and there, we saw Augustus walking past Livia’s own house. She joined him, and I twitched with hate. It didn’t go unnoticed by Gaius, though.
He spoke. “She is wise in many ways, but I prefer Antonia. She is kind. Livia is clever and steady as a rock in a stream, but Mother hates her, and Lollius avoids speaking of her. And yet, Livia did give us education and advice.” He shook his head. “But no, I do not trust her. Rome is filled with secrets. I bet even Lollius has a few of his own.”
I smiled. “Rock in a stream. Sounds like something a Germani might say,” I said with a smile. “Do we know anything about this man who is coming to parley with us?”
“A Marcomanni fresh out of the woods,” he said nervously. “Probably doesn’t speak Latin, or know proper manners. I hope he won’t squat for a shit in the corner.” He shuddered, and I thought he would have quite a few shocks when he traveled east. He went on. “But Augustus will deal with it graciously.” He smiled with a twisted grin. “It is still, always, impossible to call him anything but Augustus. He has a name, he has adopted Lucius and I, but he is Pater, Pater of Rome more than ours. He pays little attention to anything but praying to the lares and Juppiter for my health.”
“He fears another Roman civil war,” I said, wondering at the boy’s words, for he was in a very philosophical mood. “He is terrified his life’s work will untangle like a sandal, and he will watch from beyond how his family is rowed across the river, one by one.”
Gaius sighed. “You know, the River never sounded awful to me. Make sure I have the coin to pay the ferryman, and I am happy to sit in peace and silence, in the gray lands of timeless introspection, with my loved ones. It sounds very peaceful to me. I’ll serve Rome a bit first. How do your people do it?”
Wandal gave me a long look, and I shook my head. “Same as Rome. You need to inspire the people. A soldier, a diplomat, and a father. That will do it.”
He snorted as we navigated past a marble well, and he let his fingers caress the belly of a gaily painted statue by the road. “I am intrigued by poetry.”
He was ever writing. I had seen him often in the toil of penning down such, hunched over scrolls.
“That will not impress the people, but it sounds peaceful,” I agreed.
“And history,” he mused. “Velleius Paterleceius, an up and coming historian, is coming with us to Syria. He will teach me, and record our trip. I shall sit with him. But I think you are right.” He frowned. “War, politics, and marriage. And nobody wants to murder me.”
I leaned closer to him. “To be a good historian, Gaius, one
must first be an experienced soldier and diplomat. A war or two, and you are ready for poetry. It will be dark poetry, but still.”
Wandal shook his head. He disagreed with me. No war should be experienced, if one had sense.
Even I knew it.
Gaius’s eyes brightened and he chuckled, as he walked faster. “Perhaps you are right. So, let us see these people, and what they ask of Rome.” He pointed to the Temple of Apollo just above us, the six massive columns painted red and black rising high for the sky, and on the acroteria of the temple, the gilded sun god Helios was riding his chariots to welcome all. He began climbing after his adoptive father. Soon, we saw the ivory decorated doors where an ancient attack by fierce Celtic warriors was immortalized by some artist of incredible skill.
We entered the temple of Apollo, where members of the Senate mingled around Augustus already. Augustus often conducted his business in the Palatine, rather than the Senate. That day, none of the senators should speak, make questions, threats, or even complain aloud, as Augustus would deal with the issues of the amber shortage, and the demands of an upstart Marcomanni king. Gaius was greeted by subdued cheers, as the news of his narrow escape had spread. Augustus turned to look at his protégé, and his eyes went over me and Wandal.
He nodded at me.
As close as one could get to thanks in public, many senators noticed and saluted us, the guards of Gaius with cheers.
Gaius turned to me. “You are a Decurion of your turma now, Corvus. Though, of course, you shall not have time for training and administration, as I want you near me. An optio will deal with that.”
I saluted him, full of wonder, as we walked to the cold interior of the surprisingly cool temple where people were still whispering of lions.
Wandal smiled crookedly. “One would think you killed the lions alone, eh?”
“One would think so,” I answered. “But I am the most handsome of the lot, so it is only natural they reward me. And the rest of you didn’t have a scratch.”
He nudged me and whispered. “Agetan had one. Did they blame the slave?”
“They did,” I answered. “There was no other proof. The slave was dead.”
The Bane of Gods: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 5) Page 18
