He had not responded. Some said Maroboodus had sent the head to Augustus.
Cassia.
She, and Adalwulf, were the only ones who knew what really had happened.
There would be no more escape to the North. Without Cassia, it mattered little.
I would finish what I had started.
Unless I was killed that very day.
I watched a party of Cherusci ride out of the castrum. The Germani warriors didn’t look like they had previously. Thousands of men had claimed battered Roman armor, Roman blades, Roman riches, great Roman horses, and these men were everywhere, and the new wealth helped keep the peace with the tribes who had not joined Armin.
There were hundreds of people in the area, many were spies.
I rode off towards the harbor.
Wandal grunted with pain as he turned his horse to follow. He kept by my side, faithfully, even with the terrible wound, which luckily seemed to be healing. Mine were as well, and I would have plenty of new scars, but none like the one on my soul. Wandal had picked me up from my misery, forcing me to the saddle. Adalwulf had tried, Armin had as well, and Thusnelda had cared for my wounds, and tried to speak to me. Only Wandal had succeeded, for he was my friend.
I must go on.
For Gervas.
I would have to keep going, but for my own dream, the one from that day Livia had forced me to her bed. The dream felt hollow now, empty, without flavor, and all the sacrifices foolish, but it was still there, for Gervas.
And what was the dream? What had the plan been, the one I had only shared with Adalwulf, and Cassia?
It had been one of carefree peace, but bought with filthiest of deeds. It would have cost me my friends, but not their lives, if only I had told them about it, if only I had not lied to them. As for Cassia, I should have asked her for advice. I should have listened to her, but I never asked her if she truly approved of my plans. She had simply been loyal. As had my friends been.
Fate never gave them a chance. Neither did I.
I deserved death. I begged for it, every day after Cassia had died.
We found many Germani at the harbor, loading boats, and unloading supplies. They were of different tribes. Armin’s leadership was showing, as old enemies worked together to rid the land of the Roman pestilence, and helped each other.
“Hraban?” Wandal asked as I passed the harbor, and rode on the road to the west. “What are you doing? We could go back to Armin, and work to resolve some issues for the winter, eh?”
I gave him a small, tired smile and looked to the north. “You know, I only knew her for a little while. Only for a moment, it seems.”
He was quiet.
“For years, I was pursuing other quests than her.”
His words were unkind, though he tried to hold back the anger. “Fame. Then to regain your honor, you rode to war. Vengeance for Drusus. That’s what you wanted. Fine goals, but too costly.”
I nodded. “Yes. I pursued all that after Father came home, and when I went to Rome. But after Livia took my family, I didn’t care for honor, fame, or vengeance for Drusus. I was willing to put all that behind me.”
“What?” he asked. “What do you mean?”
“I only wanted to be absolutely sure they would be safe,” I told him, my voice breaking. “I needed a great patron to be absolutely sure they had a future of peace. I needed a powerful patron, a man who would, and could give us peace and safety, after long, dangerous service. We deserved it. I was willing to do anything to escape the dangers and shit we were in, and had been in, for so long.” I looked at him, and saw his face. He smelled it.
Trouble.
“Come. And I shall set you free as well. Finally.”
“What do you mean?” he demanded again, but I rode on. I had spied a figure sitting on a horse near an abandoned warehouse, not far from the harbor, just one of the many shady men in the land. A hood was draped over his head, and when I reached him, he gestured for Wandal.
I shrugged. “I care not.”
Flavus pushed back the hood, and looked carefully around as he did. His eyes lingered in Wandal’s, and there was a questioning look in his eyes. I turned to look at my friend. His face was one of shock. He struggled with a sword.
“No,” I told him.
“No?” he snarled. “He betrayed us to Germanicus and Tiberius! Not to mention what he did for Livia earlier!”
“Wait, and listen, and then decide,” I told him. “For he didn’t. He did exactly as he was ordered.”
Flavus thumbed towards the south. “Can’t stay for long. Some will know me. I came to make sure you are alive, and we still have an agreement.”
I nodded. “We do. Tell him that.”
He looked at me, sighed, and spoke. “Ask me about him.”
“Ulrich,” I said simply.
“Ulrich is Livia’s man,” he answered simply. “He was Livia’s last man. He was the one she hid, though perhaps not very well. We were just willing to trust a man who saved your life, and betrayed Germanicus. He knew Livia’s men, didn’t he? We just plain ignored that.”
“We did,” I whispered.
He went on. “He was the one who guarded Germanicus, and the one who was patient and clever, and the one she spent on vengeance on you, after it was clear Tiberius would come home, and would be elevated as she wished. Livia knew you would find Germanicus after the murder attempt, and sent him to find your trust, to spy on you, and then, later, to be patient and wait until he could hurt you terribly. I didn’t know about him, in case you wondered. I know now. I saw him.” He looked paler than usual. “Actually, Livia told Germanicus to give the order. Hence the arrow. Germanicus sent him the fucking arrow, the one you used to hurt him with, and to take the most precious thing he could find away from you. Ulrich thought about Gervas, and then Cassia, but he decided to take your woman. I know not why. Are you still going to—”
“Is Ulrich,” I asked him, “in Rome?”
“No, Hraban,” he said calmly. “He is in Moganticum now, on his way to Rome. I doubt he will stay. He will get paid, I guess.” He shifted in his saddle. “I am sure Tiberius won’t care if you find and kill Ulrich, after you are done with your duty here.”
Wandal shifted in his saddle. “Tiberius? The man who tried to have us all killed?”
I didn’t answer him. “Yes. I have made the oath to kill Ulrich,” I told Flavus. “And I shall. Is Augustus still well?”
“He is, and isn’t,” Flavus said. “But it doesn’t matter. Tiberius has his new war and so, he is still very much needed.”
“Wasn’t this war something Maroboodus desired?” Wandal snarled.
Flavus gave him a worried look and turned to me, clearly anxious to leave. “Are you still with us, and—”
I nodded. “You have asked and I have answered. I am. For Gervas. Yes. For Gervas alone, I am. For a moment, Flavus, I wasn’t, but I am now.”
“What is this, Hraban?” Wandal asked, his voice tight with fear, and worry.
He looked at Wandal.
I spoke. “I shall tell him. Everything.”
“And if he slays us?” Flavus asked, a hand on sword’s hilt. “That’s hardly what Tiberius wishes, is it?”
“It is his right, if he chooses so.”
“I disagree, but speak, then,” Flavus said. “I won’t let him kill me.”
Wandal snorted at him, and rode around us, hanging his head, his long, blond hair whipping in wind, and spoke. “There is something that was odd, something I couldn’t understand. You planned, Hraban, to be free of Livia. The plan was to free Tiberius, so he could tame Livia. He was supposed to guard everyone, and to give us all hope. He was supposed to guard Gaius, and Lucius, and Germanicus, as well as save his own son from Livia. You worked with your father, even, to bring all that about. But there was something strange about it all.”
I nodded.
“If Tiberius,” he said, “was going to betray Maroboodus, and go to war with your father, why
were you so calm about it? Your family was held captive. I asked you this once.”
I shook my head. “Tiberius and Maroboodus were always going to go to war. It was part of the plan. At least, it had to appear like they would.”
He stared at me with fury. “Tiberius needed war,” Wandal said. “Like your father tried to send you here to give Romans war, Tiberius needed war. Are you saying they planned it all?”
“Yes, Wandal,” I said. “We were supposed to find plenty of wars so Tiberius and Maroboodus both could thrive. My father tried to make me his, but I fooled him. I wasn’t supposed to go to Maroboodus, but to help poor Armin escape from Germanicus. Instead, I changed the plan a bit. Happily, Armin escaped.”
“What?” Wandal asked. “I do not understand.”
“Tiberius,” Flavus said darkly, “wasn’t happy about that. You were supposed to make sure Armin survived, and to flee with Armin and not go to Maroboodus. You were to receive Cassia only after—”
“I wanted Gervas,” I said, “and I managed it. And I gave Tiberius the wife of Maroboodus, who is of the blood of Aristovistus, and possibly his heir in return. That way, Maroboodus is a better ally, no?”
“That you did,” Flavus agreed. “But Tiberius wasn’t happy with it, anyway. A happy outcome is no excuse for risking everything.”
Wandal was staring at us, face white. “Tell me everything,” he said softly, as he rode around us.
I spoke, the words torn from my throat. “In Rome, we were hopelessly entangled in a net of treachery, in danger from many sides. Tudrus was worried for himself, for his wife, for Agetan, and I was worried for all of you. You were right. One by one, you would all have died. We would have shed our blood for Livia.”
“Yes. We nearly all died,” Wandal said softly, his eyes yellow pools of savagery. “So many of us.”
“I loved you well,” I told him. “Always did. I didn’t appreciate you, your wishes, your hopes, but no man could ask for better friends. I led you from one danger to another, and always, you followed my causes. I have been thinking of Ansbor. He didn’t follow me. He made his own choice, as did Ansigar. They both died, of course, but have I done any better for you, who stayed loyal? No.”
“From danger to danger,” he agreed. “But we were willing to follow. We were friends. Do you grasp the concept?”
I rubbed my face, tired. “I am not sure, Wandal, that I do. I wanted to spare you, and to find a haven for my family. I needed a place where they would be safe, always safe, unless disease takes them. It seemed an impossible dream, Wandal, since we were always one step behind our enemies. We would believe in a cause, or follow a lord, and always, each time, someone outsmarted or fought us unfairly, and we would be scrambling to survive, to grasp victory from defeat. I grew tired of it.”
He nodded. “I know. You fought to be an honorable man, whose fame would be well-earned. That is why we followed you.”
“Such honor, Wandal, brought us all terrible misery,” I said.
He tilted his head. “You let go of the honor? And thus, you tried to let go of us, because you wanted to spare us from dishonor?”
I nodded. “Yes. I didn’t even think you would follow me, should you know what I had planned. I lied to you. What you just described, was not the real plan.”
“Oh?” he asked bitterly, stroking his horse. “How did you let go of your honor?”
“I needed men who cared little for honor,” I said. “I needed—”
“Men like Ulrich?” he asked with icy anger.
The words stabbed me deep in my soul. I forced myself to nod. “I did. I abandoned my honor, and the men who had fought for it, and changed them for curs and murderers, whom I could risk, for they were in it for the same reasons as I was, or for simply power and riches.”
Flavus snorted, but said nothing, as Wandal eyed him.
“I made a terrible plan with terrible, tarnished men,” I said. “I joined the game played by the true oath breakers, and I played it well, and became one of them. I planned with Adalwulf, for he is a ruthless bastard who had as much to lose as I did, and he agreed on my goal. I made one with Flavus, who would want power, which Livia couldn’t give him. I gathered men like The Gold Wolf, no friends at all, around me. And men like …” I went quiet.
“Speak on,” Wandal spat. “Thieves over friends! What exactly was this plan, if not the one I fought for?”
“Bastards and thieves over friends,” I agreed. “The plan was indeed to go on a mission to free Tiberius. To free him, and to bring him to Rome, and to serve him.”
He laughed bitterly. “To serve him? How, if not the way you sold it to us?”
“Wandal is a kindhearted, sweet man,” Flavus said with sarcasm. “A hero.”
Wandal gazed at Flavus with such spite Flavus drew his weapon.
I lifted my hand, and Flavus relaxed, but Wandal kept riding around us. I spoke to him. “We made it so, Wandal, that Tiberius could indeed come home. We all knew, in truth, that Augustus could have legati and armies commanded by other Romans, and that Maroboodus could never truly threaten Rome. Augustus really didn’t need Tiberius to lead the legions. Not really. He had preferred him once, but he had others. There was only one way for Tiberius to come home.”
He stared at me.
“Augustus loved his young heirs and relatives,” I said, “but he loves the Rome he built much more. If there were no more boys, he needed someone to guard his Rome, his legacy. So, in order for him to worry about the Rome he built, Gaius and Lucius …” I shook my head, and took a ragged breath, and went quiet.
“Gaius and Lucius had to die. If they died, he would need …” he said softly. “No.”
“Gaius and Lucius had to die,” I said steadily. “The gods had to fall.”
“Gaius and Lucius? Tiberius wanted them dead?” Wandal said with horror, and then his face turned dark. “Wait. You suggested it? You wanted them dead? This was your idea? Does that mean he wants to…? I can’t believe you—”
“Tiberius will rule.”
“No. He never wanted that!”
“Yes,” I said sadly. “He needed a cause. I suggested it, and though he resisted, in the end, he knew I was right,” I said and gazed at his horrified, disbelieving face, and my heart was crying, as was his. “Tiberius has to rule. He must rule, so that his son is safe, and for one other reason. It is a very heavy reason.” He said nothing. I went on. “So, he had Adalwulf poison Lucius. Adalwulf travelled to Gaul and met him there, and managed it, since Lucius knew him and liked him, and trusted him. And I?”
He stopped his horse and looked at me with begging eyes. “You killed Gaius.”
“I tried,” I said. “I tried. It was always mine to do. It had to take place far away from Rome, by the hands of the enemy, and Rome had to see Tiberius bow down to Gaius, so everyone would know he tried to make peace. Tiberius had to seem weak. Livia made sure— "
“You worked with Livia?” he whispered.
“Tiberius had her believe she would be forgiven, so he had Livia use her power …” I went silent, and cursed the bitch.
Livia had had one die she had not shared with Tiberius.
I went on, dragging myself from the gates of despair. “Livia poisoned Livilla, and she poisoned Gaius to Tiberius. Lollius was also in the way, ever protecting Gaius, so he had to die. First, we smeared him, spread lies about him, and gave Gaius reasons to dislike him. Poor Marcus. I killed him, you know. The poison they gave him, it wasn’t enough. Sejanus made a mess of it. I snapped his neck.”
“Sejanus?” he whispered.
“Yes, Sejanus, another cur we hired,” I said, shame burning on my face. “I, Publius, and Sejanus dealt with the Parthians, and Tiberius promised them Armenia in the future for their help. While Germanicus tried to murder Gaius due to Livia’s own manipulations, Gaius truly had to die far from Rome, indeed, by hands other than Romans. Livia was always right in the need to kill the boys, see? They had to die, and Tiberius had to rule, and if
I helped him, he would give us peace, finally. For that peace, Wandal, I was willing to give up on all other oaths.” I wiped a tear off my eye. “Just like it was with my Drusus, so it was with my Gaius. They had to die in foreign lands, by hands of the enemies, paid by Rome.”
“Don’t,” he snarled, “call him your Gaius.”
“I loved him,” I said nonetheless. “My Gaius.” He grasped the sword’s hilt, and pulled it, but I went on. “The Parthians tried to kill him for us in Arabia Felix. I gave them the pass phrases, and the envoy hired men. We were to make sure Gaius was exposed. They failed, because of you.”
“Me?”
I nodded. “We were riding down the hill, and left just a few Guards with him. And yet, you disobeyed me, stayed with him, and I couldn’t let you die with him. So, I came back, and saved you.”
“Saved me?” he laughed bitterly. “You bastard.”
I spoke on. “Sejanus had to kill the Parthian envoy to guard us, and we made new plans. Lollius first, disgraced, fell, and Publius took over, not only the position, but the scribes of Gaius. We isolated the boy. And then later, under the walls of—”
“You,” he said with horror, “tried to keep me with the Armenian king. You blundered, and failed. Did you leave him exposed to arrows? Is that why he was the only one on a horse?”
I nodded. “He was brave. He could have refused to go, but he chose to go to the city. I had a hand in that.”
“You fucking bastard,” he hissed. “You dog-souled shit.”
“You foiled me each time, friend,” I told him sadly. “Each time, you held to your oath to guard him, and I had to save you. You grabbed his bridle, and I had to come to your aid.” I shook my head, tired to the bone. “I tried to send you away. You refused. You foiled all my attempts. Finally, when I had failed long enough, Tiberius was recalled anyway, for Augustus was worried for Gaius. He was, because Publius told him he was still sick from the wounds, and might die. So, Tiberius came, and he had Livilla do it. She poisoned him, and they made it look like that old wound. He shat and vomited next to his desk, and none suspected, not really.”
The Bane of Gods: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 5) Page 52
