I snorted, as Gaius spoke with a young woman who positively swooned over the handsome Roman. Livilla didn’t look happy with the voluptuous local and sulked visibly. “You drink wine in a ship, Marcus. Wine. You eat bread, drink wine, and hold your shit until there is a port.”
He groaned. “I didn’t think of wine. These trips are all terrible, wine or water. And now he is here.”
I nodded. “He is, indeed.”
“Why, I wonder,” Lollius muttered. “Gaius cannot really help him.”
I turned to look at the harbor. There was a familiar galley, the Black Wave of Alexander, and it had brought Tiberius to Samos to meet Gaius. It was a show of deference for Gaius. It was also a way for Tiberius to save face should Gaius not go and greet him in Rhodes.
It was also partly due to the fact he was still stuck in Rhodes due to the wily Augustus and his plans. He was in Samos because Maroboodus had failed to give war, and we were grasping at straws, hoping Gaius might grow to forgive him and vouch for him, if only he saw and spoke with him.
Well, Maroboodus had not totally failed.
He had simply failed to scare Augustus, who had been uncommonly calm in his dealings with my father.
Little mentioned in Rome, the Marcomanni had in fact warred across the Danubius. There had been small raids all spring, but Augustus had not caved in to panic, even when some select senators had asked for Tiberius to be fetched. Instead, he had added legions, auxilia and spies to the River Danubius. Maroboodus had even sent Augustus taunts, well-written ones, and some say he had declared himself king of the southern shore of the Danubius, which was a direct slap in the Roman face.
And still Augustus let the local governors and legions deal with what Maroboodus sent over.
Soon, Father had been given something else to think about. Augustus had pulled other strings, and several tribes of Hermanduri had pushed deep into the lands of my father from the North, and soon, the raids of Maroboodus tapered off in Illyricum as my father turned to face an old threat. While many Hermanduri followed him, there were countless thousands who didn’t. Augustus was a clever opponent, and had used Germani to deal with Germani, and I felt like a fool in comparison, my crude plan as ripe and functional as a child’s.
Of course, it had cost Augustus.
They said Maroboodus had crushed the Hermanduri and expanded to the north, but for now, he was no threat to Rome.
In the meantime, we still had to get Tiberius back home.
Gaius seemed to enjoy an enormous painted vase, and was in no hurry to go meet Tiberius. Lollius fidgeted, and I shook my head.
We waited for a while longer.
Finally, Lollius stepped forward and whispered to Gaius and the boy’s eyes went to the harbor, then to Livilla, and finally to us. He sighed. “We shall go then, but I will not spend a day at it. Where is he?”
“The harbor, in a house of a local merchant, Cleon. Refreshments and shade await us there,” Lollius said. “I urge you to listen to Tiberius carefully. He has travelled a long way to meet you.”
“Yes, of course,” Gaius muttered and grinned at me as we stepped away. His eyes shone as he eyed the sea and the mountains. “I can see why Rome is so large. So many sights and riches one cannot possibly describe back home. No, one must own it all, and bring some of it back home to be gaped at.”
I smiled. “Still wish to be a historian?”
He chuckled as we stepped down the road. “Of course. Who wouldn’t? Did you know Pythagoras was from here? From Samos.”
I nodded, though I couldn’t recall the name.
He let me off the hook. “I’ll try to enjoy myself a bit, Hraban. In Syria, I must be prepared for all the work Tiberius didn’t bother with,” he said acidly.
I blinked. He feared Tiberius. He feared everyone. He feared his duties. He hated responsibility. Usually timid, he had developed a sudden bite when Tiberius was mentioned. He still had no wish to rule, but he was more … volatile. It could be the trip and his belly, I decided, but there was more to it, I was sure of it.
“There might be war waiting for us in Syria,” I said, changing the subject as we skipped past shaded alleys. “Are you prepared for that?”
He shook his head. “I suppose I must see war, too. I must, must I not?”
“A ruler must grow accustomed,” I said softly, “to seeing—”
“Roman victory,” he finished for me. “Lollius keeps telling me these things. Has for ten years.”
“I was going to say,” I said icily, “that one must grow accustomed to seeing the innocent suffering for the crimes of the few, or for no crimes at all. The women, the children taken, enslaved, fathers beheaded, and maidens raped. And you must approve, and celebrate the men. For Rome, you will be a father, and for the enemies, the cruel step-father.”
His face went white and he walked until we came to the harbor. We pushed through a crowd of people.
“Do you think Lucius could do it?” he asked, as we were pointed towards a blue-tinged building with guards on the doorway. “Could he order maidens raped, and children enslaved?”
“Lucius?” I said. “He might. He will go to Hispania for his first command, and I hear they like to rebel there. But he cannot … rule.”
I had made a blunder.
He gave me a curious glance. “Why cannot he rule?”
I sighed. “Are you a vengeful man, Gaius?” I asked.
He bristled. “I didn’t think I was. But perhaps I shall learn.”
I frowned, and wasn’t sure what he meant.
“Just tell me, Hraban,” he said as we approached the building.
“Lucius,” I said simply, “is not very bright.”
He looked shocked, and then chuckled and nodded. “But I am. Let us get this over with.”
“Listen to him,” I urged him. “He could be your general, and he could perform all the nasty work you will not love. Did not Octavianus ally with Mark Anthony, two men working on common goals, while they disliked each other? And he doesn’t even dislike you. He is no Mark Anthony. They say he only wishes to serve Rome. You.”
“Oh, I will ask him to speak, and then I shall ask him a question,” he answered and entered the depths of a corridor before I could stop him. I cursed him softly, and the lot of us rushed after him. Any killer might be lurking in the shadows of the house, and I caught up with him right when the corridor ended. We arrived in a wide hall with pillars and upper stories around large central reception areas. Up there, people gaped down at us. He hesitated, and I shifted past him, shield out, my eyes scourging the shadows for raised bows or hovering javelins.
There were none. Instead, in the midst of the hall like a brooding statue, stood Tiberius.
He was alone, and dressed in a toga out of respect.
There were no guards with him, and he bowed his head as Gaius saw him. The boy took tentative steps forward, and Tiberius stepped forward as well, faltered for a moment as he saw Lollius, and then resolutely came to stand before Gaius. He smiled guardedly, clearly uncomfortable with the presence of so many people, or with smiling in general. He had probably asked to see Gaius alone, in an informal setting and I smelled food being cooked not far away, likely being set out for him and Gaius.
Gaius smelled the food as well. He nodded, oddly imperious. “Alas, I cannot stay. I have duties.”
He had few before Syria, to be honest, and it was a ripe time for a meal, and Tiberius knew something was off. He had a brief, puzzled look on his face. Bravely, he went on. “The joy of seeing you,” Tiberius said softly and bowed again before Gaius. “I had not realized how much taller you are. The last time I met you.” He placed a hand before him.
Gaius smiled, and nodded. “It has been a while. You have been well? They tell us you are growing tired of Rhodes?”
He waved his hand to the south. “It is a fine place to live, though I fear they are right. After decades of service and war, it does man’s health good to rest for some years, but then one must find a
cause again.”
Gaius nodded, and shifted his feet. “I hear,” Gaius said slowly, “that you would return home? And that Grandfather has been unresponsive?” He squared his shoulders. “They say he is feeling deeply betrayed. Everyone says this, in fact, because he tells it to all willing ears, and to unwilling ones as well.” Gaius went quiet, and then, struggling with his bravery, he spoke on. “And yet, also, perhaps he is also just a bit relieved.”
The temperature seemed to plummet. I felt Lollius moving next to me, and embarrassed faces gleamed all around us. Some brazen bastards smiled softly, Sejanus was pushing back out of the building, and some men were speaking softly, as if nothing embarrassing and awkward was taking place.
Tiberius collected himself after the briefest of shocks. “I did make some mistakes, and I do know he is upset with me. And yet, I would make good my mistakes. Even a holiday must end at some point,” Tiberius said with embarrassment. “I still would serve him. Our …” He shrugged. “I would go home, and I was wondering, since he has elevated you, trusts you, if you would speak for me. I would serve you, as well.”
That was an ultimate effort on his part.
Gaius bristled visibly. He cocked his head back. “I have no saying on the matter, Tiberius. I have no saying on such matters at all. Grandfather was upset with you, but you know this, and so does all of Rome. He needed your sword. Especially now with war yet again looming at the borders.”
Tiberius opened his hands out. “In any way I can, I would serve. My tribunical powers are long over, and I am—”
“Vulnerable,” Gaius said, and the temperature seemed to go down again. Even Lollius shivered. Gaius went on. “Are you going to ask him for a place in a military of the North?”
Tiberius, still astonished, shook his shoulders. “I have not thought of it. But I would serve Rome anywhere.”
“Or,” Gaius said, “are you going to tutor Postumus, our mad brother?”
Postumus?
“Tutor Postumus?” Tiberius asked, at loss. “Why would I—”
Gaius shook his head. “Livilla heard you consider him better than us. That one day, Postumus could step over me. Livilla heard you said we are unable to rule.”
“Gaius!” Lollius called out, and the call echoed in the hall.
Tiberius stood there, shocked to his core.
Livia. The bitch. She had poisoned Livilla.
Why? This didn’t help Tiberius.
Gaius stepped forward and lifted his hand. In it, a ring shone dully, and a red ruby, the size of a coin gleamed. “I will help you, despite that insult. If you but kiss this ring, and swear loyalty to me, Tiberius, I shall. If you do that, I shall promise to help you go back to Rome.”
I looked down, Lollius took cautious steps forward until he was behind Gaius, but Gaius, resolutely, ignored the man’s whisperings. Time dragged on, and Tiberius, his back rigid as a face of a rock wall, stepped forward and bent his back to kiss the ring. He spoke, as he looked at Gaius’s feet. “I swear, by Juppiter, to serve you faithfully. Of course.”
Gaius, smiling like a foolish drunk, nodded, and turned to leave. “We bring you letters and news, and I thank you for your service to Rome. And I will speak with Grandfather. I will have a need for an advisor in the coming struggles, after I return home from the East. I learned plenty from you when you took me to the North some years past, when you went to fight against the Sigambri. Now, perhaps, I shall learn more, and eventually you shall learn from me.”
He walked out, and men slowly shifted. Sejanus appeared, carrying a sack of mail for Tiberius, and I took it. Sejanus gave me a brief, worried glance and I turned to follow Tiberius. Lollius, walking out heavily, was deep in his thoughts but I walked after Tiberius and found the man slumped on a seat, toying with wine. His hands trembled as he looked at me.
He waved his hand at the departed Gaius. “Well, I tried. Everyone heard. Who is that?”
I left the sack at his feet. “Gaius Caesar. That’s who. Livilla spoke to him of Postumus. Your mother is doing harm in a small, mean way.”
He snarled. “You call that small?”
I said nothing; he drained his cup and got up to walk back and forth.
“Is he still weak, though? Hates the thought of rulership?” he asked.
“He is,” I said. “And I will show him the shitty side of rulership. There shall be war in Syria, and suffering, and he will hate it. And Lucius is an idiot still, obviously. That cannot be cured. You will be needed, lord.”
He rubbed his face. “Postumus is an interesting man, Hraban, but I doubt he could rule either. Too angry. We go on as we agreed. Nothing’s changed.” I nodded and he looked at me. “Do you still agree?”
“I do, yes.”
He nodded, and toed the sack of mail. “It is done.”
“It is, lord. How is Adalwulf?” I asked.
He smiled. “Adalwulf has been a useful guard. I suppose I shall keep him for a while, then. Go, and be his guard. The cockerel needs one. Oh, and listen to this. Something you must hear.” He whispered in my ear, and I nodded. He dismissed me and I walked out, and as I left, I heard him tossing something against a wall.
Everyone would know he had sworn to serve Gaius.
CHAPTER 17 (Antioch, June, 2 B.C.)
Antioch, they said, was the hub of the East. A great city much like Rome, it was sprawling and filled with wonders, and misery as well. Julius Caesar had loved the city well, and a bustling Roman Forum had soon been erected in the middle of it on Mount Silpius, where also the great temple of Juppiter Capitolinus rose high in lofty glory. The stoa of Herod and Agrippa was a shady relief on even the most scorching of days.
It was also the city where Gaius learnt how devious and filthy politics and diplomacy could be.
The legions were converging to the city. There was Legio X Fretensis, the one that had fought valorously in Jerusalem. Some of its cohorts had already arrived from their recent show of force; a march to the Parthian border. Legio III Gallica and Legio VI Ferrata were on their way, minus some cohorts left for other duties.
It was necessary to march the legions from their postings in Judea, Samaria, and the Parthian borders to Antioch, but despite his brief experience with Tiberius in the North, Gaius truly didn’t understand war. The march would kill hundreds of men, the sick would be lost, others would desert, and it was due to his command, one that had been forced on him by his advisors, and it bothered him. Yet it was necessary, because Rome had to show the few Parthian diplomats and rebellious kings and nobles coming to greet him what Roman might looked like, and more; that Gaius was a man to make hard decisions. He wasn’t there to pick flowers, but to force Roman will on rebels and enemy nations.
I gazed to the west of the city, where some dusty cohorts were marching through the streets of the famous city. I had half expected to see Gnaeous Calpurnius Piso, the infamous prefect of the half Syrian, half Parthian auxilia unit, but unfortunately, he was still in Jerusalem.
I gave Gaius a long look.
He looked far older.
The legions and their many needs truly had a negative influence on Gaius. While Lollius could deal with most of the issues, some were exclusively for Gaius to solve. The proud legati, the young tribunes on their way through the basic military service so they could enter the Senate one day soon, the squabbling officia and local clients who had a constant craving for his attention were depriving Gaius of all joy of life. Gaius was fast learning how to govern, and how miserable governing was, so he occasionally tried to escape to deal with more humane issues. Gaius’s arrival in the city had made it a beehive of rich merchants dreaming to gain riches off the supplies for the armies that Gaius was readying to threaten Phraates of Parthia, and all this brought criminals and disease to the city as well, and Gaius tried to take some time to listen to the people and their complaints out in the city.
While noble, his outings were not easy for us, the Germani Guards, nor was it joyful for the Praetorians of Sejanus. That
morning, we were out again, we had nearly all our men marching around Gaius, we had men around Livilla, and the Praetorians had men around us, Gaius had to be kept alive, and at times it seemed impossible. Three men of our turma discreetly tossed three merchants back to the crowds.
I gave Wandal a quick look. “Still happy you came?”
“I gave him an oath,” he answered. “I don’t have to be happy about it. And if I can aid with making Tiberius the guardian of Gaius, then Gaius is even safer, no?” He grinned. “And I didn’t want to leave you, eh? Do you think Tudrus and Agetan are in peace somewhere out there? No, they are sorry they left. I am sure.” He glanced at me. “Have you heard news of Cassia?”
I nodded. I had. She was alive and well, so was Gervas.
“Where are they?” he asked me, not for the first time.
“You think Gaius will tell them he doesn’t like what they have made?” I asked instead, and Wandal turned to look at the young noble.
Gaius was staring at a statue that had been uncovered the day before. The situation was awkward, to say the least. There were actually two statues. One was of Lucius and the other one of Gaius, both depicted as sons of Ares, the offspring of the great Greek God of War. They were seated next to the statue of their great, divine father. Slightly smaller, but godly nonetheless, the boys had been honored by the very finest of marble, with veins of pale red and blue snaking around the polished gray stone. The artists and the local magistrates looked on, trying to discover any emotion on the face of Gaius, preferably a happy one.
They were no more successful than we were.
Gaius’s mood was impossible to gauge as he walked before the statues. With him was Juba II, a highborn guide and a king who had met us in the city. For over a year, he had prepared Gaius a treatise of the lands to the East. The ancient King of former Numidia was a well learned man. He was a warrior Julius Caesar had beaten, a man who had walked the streets of Rome in a triumph of Caesar, and a man who became a loyal ally of the Caesar family, and a friend to Octavianus. In thanks to his services to Rome, Augustus gave him in marriage the daughter of the famous Cleopatra and Mark Anthony. She was called Cleopatra Selene II, and the rumors said it was a happy marriage. Now a king of Mauretania, the man was an advisor to young Gaius on the trip. There too was, the historian Velleius Paterculus, also silent and deep in his meditations, as he prepared a story of Gaius’s triumph in the East. Lollius was, that day, far too busy in the offices of Gaius, ever negotiating with client kings and even the emissaries of Phraates himself, to take part in the damned outing, but the rector of Gaius, Publius Quirinius, was speaking to him softly as he gestured toward the statues.
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