Rome’s Fallen Eagle Read online

  ‘Nonsense, Narcissus,’ Gaius protested. ‘We are great admirers of Claudius; his knowledge of law and history …’

  ‘Spare me the platitudes, Gaius,’ Narcissus cut in, waving the scroll at him. ‘I said that we would be straight talking. Do you really want Claudius as emperor?’

  Gaius’ mouth fell open, his jowls wobbling.

  ‘Well?’ Narcissus pressed.

  ‘It’s not ideal,’ Gaius conceded.

  ‘No, it’s not ideal for most people. But it is for me.’ He looked at his colleagues. ‘As it is for Pallas and Callistus.’

  ‘It suits us perfectly,’ Callistus confirmed.

  ‘And what’s more, it’s a fact: Claudius is emperor,’ Pallas stated.

  ‘Yes, he is.’ Narcissus almost purred with pleasure. ‘But the question is: how do we keep him there? We’ve bought the Guard, so in Rome Claudius is safe. But what if the legions on the Rhenus mutiny as they did on Tiberius’ ascension? Civil war? A breakup of the Empire? Or perhaps both. That cannot be allowed to happen. So how do we secure our malformed patron in his office?’ Narcissus’ eyes slowly came to rest on Vespasian.

  In a moment of clarity, Vespasian now saw that the three freedmen had been acting in concert over a different matter. This was never going to be a meeting about saving Sabinus’ life; there was much more to it than that. Narcissus’ look told him that this was about his, Vespasian’s, role in securing the new regime. Pallas had merely used the opportunity to try and add Sabinus to whatever was about to be negotiated. In removing the threat of Herod Agrippa’s testimony he had given Narcissus a face-saving way of sparing him even though he had admitted his guilt. He now saw where they were heading. ‘Make the army respect him, perhaps even love him. He needs a victory.’

  ‘Exactly; and he needs it soon.’ Narcissus rolled up the report and discarded it to one side as if it offended him. ‘But where?’

  Silence filled the room so that the marching stamp of a small column of men outside the window could be clearly heard.

  After a few moments, Sabinus brought himself out of his morbid introspection. ‘Germania is out of the question since Varus lost the Seventeenth, Eighteenth and Nineteenth Legions there. The border is now set on the Rhenus; it would be hard to persuade the legions to cross it and, even if they would be willing, it would not be a quick victory.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t,’ Pallas agreed easily. ‘Nor would any attempt to annex the lands north of the Danubius be the work of just a year or two.’

  ‘And the legions refused to embark onto the ships when Caligula attempted to cross to Britannia,’ Callistus said as if he was reciting from a well-rehearsed script.

  ‘There’s nothing worth having south of our provinces in Africa,’ Narcissus carried on almost seamlessly. ‘We are planning to annex Mauretania, further west; Suetonius Paulinus has been given that task and, as a reward for his timely declaration of loyalty, the Emperor has made Hosidius Geta legate of one of the legions under Paulinus’ command.’ Narcissus paused for a moment in thought, as if a fact had just occurred to him. ‘But it is of little value and would hardly be a martial feat. Not really deserving of a triumph, although I’m sure the Senate will vote Claudius one, which he will, of course, modestly refuse.’

  ‘We could always annex Thracia.’

  ‘Indeed, my dear Callistus, but where’s the glory in that? And in the east, Armenia has a Roman client king on its throne. So all that leaves is Parthia.’

  Pallas nodded, taking up the reins of the argument without a pause. ‘However, Lucius Vitellius fought a successful campaign there a few years ago and for the moment we have a settlement that is working in our interests. So we should forget going east and, anyway, if we did go that way it’s too great an area to hold without committing the sort of resources that we just cannot afford. So that only leaves one financially viable option.’

  ‘Yes, Pallas, you are so right. It only leaves Britannia,’ Narcissus said slowly. ‘But this time we do it properly. Callistus, please.’

  Callistus cleared his throat. ‘When my former patron, Caligula, was planning his haphazard attempt to invade Britannia, I played a major role in co-ordinating all the various elements. I know that an invasion of Britannia is eminently possible. And it has three great advantages: firstly, we’ve already put the entire infrastructure in place; this will save us millions.’ He twitched one corner of his mouth at Pallas in what Vespasian assumed was his equivalent of a self-congratulatory beam; a suggestion of a raised eyebrow signalled Pallas’ approval. ‘We already have a disembarkation port, Gesoriacum, filled with granaries, warehouses, workshops and supply depots; the Gallic provinces are very fertile, so we will have ample supplies with which to fill them. There are still a goodly amount of ships up there, although nowhere near the thousand or so that we’ll need, but that will be addressed by our senior general on the northern coast, Publius Gabinius Secundus, the Emperor’s personal friend.

  ‘Secondly, we have two exiled British Kings, Adminios and Verica, currently here in Rome asking us to restore them to their thrones; this gives us an air of legitimacy and pro-Roman local rulers once we’re successful.

  ‘And the third great advantage is that the chief city in the south of the island, Camulodunum, is no more than a hard summer’s campaigning from where we would land. Claudius could have his victory within one season.’

  ‘If the legions don’t refuse to embark,’ Pallas reminded everyone.

  ‘If the legions don’t refuse to embark,’ Narcissus repeated. His gaze now wandered to Sabinus.

  ‘How do you propose to make them this time, Narcissus?’ Sabinus asked, interested, his present dilemma seemingly forgotten.

  ‘That’s how you and your brother now have the chance to save your life, my friend. Had it not been for Pallas’ adroit handling of your predicament – albeit behind my back – you would have been a dead man.’ He paused and gave Pallas a fleeting look of disapproval that carried far more weight than the minuscule movements of the facial muscles outwardly conveyed. ‘However, I now find myself free to give you this opportunity in payment for the debt I still owe you for the discretion you showed over my patron’s foolish letter. Will you take it, not knowing what it is, or would you prefer to die with the others?’

  Vespasian glanced at his brother, relief flooding through his body. Gaius exhaled as if he had been holding his breath for the entire meeting.

  It was an easy question for Sabinus. ‘I’ll take it, Narcissus, whatever it is.’

  ‘Good. Palagios!’

  The door opened and the clerk walked in. ‘Yes, imperial secretary.’

  ‘Are the prisoners ready?’

  ‘Yes, imperial secretary.’

  Narcissus rose. ‘Come with me, Sabinus; Vespasian, you’d better help him.’ Pulling back the curtain, he opened the door and stepped through.

  Vespasian and Sabinus followed him out into a small courtyard, grey with drizzle. Six men knelt at its centre before a wooden block; each guarded by a Praetorian with a drawn sword under the command of a centurion. The closest prisoner raised his auburn head and smiled in resignation at the brothers, his pinched face more pallid than ever.

  ‘Proceed, centurion,’ Narcissus ordered, ‘there will be no one else added to their number. Centurion Lupus first.’

  ‘Yes, imperial secretary.’

  As Lupus was led forwards to the block Sabinus grabbed Narcissus’ arm. ‘You can’t make me watch my wife’s brother’s execution.’

  Narcissus glanced down at the hand grasping his arm and removed it. ‘You are in no position to make demands, Sabinus; unless, that is, you wish to demand to join them.’

  Vespasian placed an arm around his brother’s shoulders and pulled him away. ‘There’s nothing to be gained by arguing.’

  Lupus knelt before the block, placing his hands upon it as the Praetorian guarding him touched the back of his neck with his blade; Lupus tensed as the weapon was raised, hunching his shoulders close to hi
s head. The sword flashed down; Lupus screamed in agony as it embedded itself in the base of his neck, severing his spinal column but not his head. Paralysis was almost instantaneous and Lupus slumped to the ground, bleeding profusely but still alive.

  Narcissus tutted. ‘I would expect a Praetorian centurion to be able to hold himself with a little more dignity and extend his neck when faced with death.’

  As Lupus’ limp body was stretched out with his head over the block, his eyes staring in agonised terror, Vespasian glanced at Clemens; he held himself calmly as the executioner brought down his sword a second time and struck off Lupus’ head in an eruption of spurting gore.

  ‘That’s better,’ Narcissus commented as the headless corpse was dragged away from the block, leaving a copious trail of blood across the wet paving stones. ‘I think we should have Prefect Clemens next, let’s see if he can do better.’

  Sabinus stiffened, the muscles in his cheeks pulsating as he struggled to keep himself under control. Vespasian kept his arm firmly around his shoulders.

  Narcissus turned to the brothers. ‘Do you know, I think you were right, Sabinus, it would be wrong for me to make you watch Clemens’ execution. I think that the perilousness of your situation would be far better stressed if you performed the deed yourself.’

  ‘I can’t execute Clemens!’

  ‘Of course you can; if you don’t I’ll have him execute you before he’s despatched.’

  ‘Do it, Sabinus,’ Clemens called as he was led to the block. ‘If I’m not to be allowed the dignity of suicide by this doublecrossing, oily Greek freedman then I would rather die at your hand than have the humiliation of a mere ranker taking my life.’

  Sabinus shook his head, tears welling in his eyes.

  ‘You have to, brother,’ Vespasian whispered. ‘Narcissus is making you do this to emphasise the power that he has over us; either submit to it or die.’

  Sabinus heaved a huge sigh, holding his head in both hands. ‘Help me over there.’

  Vespasian supported his brother as he hobbled over to Clemens, kneeling in front of the blood-drenched block. The Praetorian offered his sword, hilt first; Sabinus took it and stood over his brother-in-law.

  Clemens looked up. ‘Tell Clementina and my wife that you did this because I wanted you to; they will understand and be grateful that you made my death less of a humiliation.’

  ‘I will, Clemens. Thank you for giving your sister to me; she is a good wife and has made me very happy; I’ll always keep her safe.’ Sabinus hefted the sword in his hand, judging the weight.

  Clemens nodded and mouthed: ‘Avenge me.’ He then placed both hands on the block and stretched his neck. ‘Watch over my children.’

  With one continuous motion, Sabinus raised the sword above his head and swept it down, the muscles in his arm bulging with the exertion, to cleave through flesh and bone with a wet, crunching impact and a crimson explosion. Clemens’ head was propelled forward by the force of the spraying blood; it hit the ground and rolled once, coming to a halt facing Sabinus and Vespasian. For a moment the eyes stared at the brothers, life still in evidence, before a final beat of the heart sent a surge of blood slopping over them, blinding them for the last time.

  Sabinus dropped the sword with a metallic clang that rang around the silent courtyard.

  Vespasian averted his eyes from the macabre sight and saw Narcissus, the man who had gained so much from Clemens’ actions and yet had betrayed him, give the faintest smile of satisfaction before he turned and walked back inside. ‘Come, brother, it’s done; you have acknowledged Narcissus’ power.’

  A third body was heard hitting the ground outside as Vespasian retook his seat but he knew better than to let his contempt for Narcissus play on his face. He looked briefly at Sabinus; his brother was having less success at controlling his emotions.

  Narcissus noticed it too. ‘Whatever you think of me for having you execute your wife’s brother is irrelevant, unless, of course, I ever suspect that you are doing more than thinking. If that becomes the case then I will reverse this decision that I’ve been manoeuvred into and I shall make sure that you are not the only one who suffers.’ He glared at Sabinus and then slowly cast his eyes over Vespasian and Gaius as the threat hung over them. ‘But enough of this; back to business. What do we require of you both? Now that Pallas seems to have got his team back together again, I think that he had better explain, as it was his idea originally.’

  Vespasian looked at Pallas, realising that his help had not been totally altruistic. Pallas caught his eye but showed nothing as from outside came the sound of another killing blow. ‘Thank you, Narcissus, for the recognition,’ Pallas began. ‘A month ago, after we’d decided to resurrect Caligula’s idea to conquer Britannia, we began thinking about how to make the army respect Claudius enough to get four legions and the equivalent number of auxiliaries to invade an island for him, that the superstitious amongst them – which is virtually all of them – consider to be haunted and rife with spirits. My colleagues were considering paying a bounty, which, to me, was out of the question; so I was looking for a cheaper option. Then I remembered Caligula’s other idea of emulating his father, Germanicus, who restored the army’s pride after Varus’ disaster in the Teutoburg Forest; he won their love forever by pushing back into Germania six years later, and recapturing the Eagles of the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Legions. Caligula wanted personally to find the third Eagle that fell in that battle but did not have the patience to see it through.

  ‘However, I recalled the enthusiasm with which the announcement of this plan was greeted and I realised that had Caligula succeeded he would have been so popular that the army would not have refused to embark for Britannia. So I thought: why shouldn’t Claudius do the same?’ He looked along the row to Vespasian and Sabinus as a dull thump indicated that the fifth prisoner had met his end. ‘Obviously Claudius couldn’t do it himself but someone could do it in his name; then I remembered how you two had gone to Moesia and found and extracted that hideous weasel-faced priest. And there we have it.’

  Vespasian and Sabinus looked in disbelief at Pallas, the horror of Clemens’ execution momentarily put to one side. ‘You want us to find the Seventeenth’s lost Eagle?’ Vespasian gasped eventually, unable to believe that anyone other than Caligula could be mad enough to suggest it thirty-two years after its capture.

  ‘Yes,’ Narcissus confirmed. ‘If we can resurrect Rome’s fallen Eagle in Claudius’ name then we will have the army on his side and they will embark on those ships and they will invade Britannia. Claudius will have his victory; and his place, and, more to the point, ours, will be secured.’

  ‘And if we do this then I keep my life?’ Sabinus asked carefully.

  Narcissus smiled faintly, devoid of humour. ‘No. If you succeed in this you keep your life; although I rather think that if you don’t succeed you’ll probably lose it anyway in the attempt.’

  ‘I expect you’re right. But why should my brother be going too?’

  ‘You miss the point, Sabinus,’ Vespasian said, looking around at the three passive-faced freedmen. ‘This was all decided before Caligula was killed; we were both always going to go.’

  ‘Whether we wanted to or not?’

  Narcissus inclined his head. ‘Whether you wanted preferment or not under this regime, would be a better way of looking at it, but yes. And now you have no choice if you want that unfortunate misunderstanding about who was the man behind the mask to be cleared up.’ He paused as another sword blow sounded outside, followed by the final body collapsing onto the bloodwetted stone.

  Vespasian shivered. Gaius shook his head sorrowfully and rubbed the back of his neck. The centurion bellowed at his men to pick up the heads and drag the bodies away.

  Narcissus pursed his lips. ‘Well, that’s over with. They were good men if somewhat naïve; you did well not to join them, Sabinus – today at least.’ He turned to Vespasian as if nothing of import had happened. ‘I will repay the debt that I
owe you for managing to leave my patron so wealthy after that business with Poppaeus – I think you’ll agree that cashing the bankers’ draft in Alexandria pays for the other?’

  Vespasian forced his mind away from the image of Clemens’ dripping head being held up by its auburn hair; he nodded.

  ‘So to even our score, I – or rather the Emperor – will confirm you as the legate commanding the Second Augusta based at Argentoratum on the Rhenus.’

  ‘But that’s Corbulo’s legion.’

  ‘Indeed, but whoever heard of an ex-consul becoming a legate? Caligula gave it to Corbulo, rather than give him a province to govern, to humiliate him for daring to complain about the way Caligula exhibited Corbulo’s half-sister naked at dinner parties. In view of his semi-fraternal connection with Caligula’s wife, we feel it better that he returns to Rome and I’m sure he will be grateful to be relieved of a position that he certainly considers beneath him. You will replace him.’ He picked up a scroll and proffered it. ‘This is the Emperor’s mandate confirming your appointment. Will that be acceptable?’

  ‘Yes, Narcissus,’ he replied. Normally such news would fill a man with excitement and pride but all Vespasian could think of was Clemens’ decapitated body being hauled away outside.

  ‘Good. The Empress was very keen that her brother, Corvinus, should have the commission but fortunately there is now a vacancy for him with the Ninth Hispana; I wonder how he’ll measure up to the expectations of the camp prefect and the primus pilus.’

  Sabinus stiffened on his chair and the muscles in his jaw clenched.

  Narcissus glanced at him briefly, his lips twitching in a shadow of a mirthless smile. ‘No doubt my agents will tell me.’ He picked up two more scrolls from his desk and handed them to Vespasian. ‘These are the orders for you and Corbulo, both signed by the Emperor. You will present yours to the Governor Galba when you get to Argentoratum; he will make the necessary arrangements. Give Corbulo his orders personally. You will proceed there with Sabinus as soon as possible; as legate you’ll be free to use the resources of your legion and its attached auxiliaries to help your brother find this Eagle. My advice would be to start your search at the Teutoburg Forest.’