Rome’s Fallen Eagle (11 page)

‘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.’

‘You’re toying with us, Pallas,’ Vespasian accused as soon as the doors to Pallas’ suite of rooms, on the second floor, were shut against inquisitive ears roaming the corridor beyond. ‘That meeting was not set up to bargain for Sabinus’ life; it was all about your ambitions and my role in fulfilling them.’

‘Both of your roles in fulfilling them,’ Pallas pointed out, gesturing to his steward to bring wine. ‘I need both of you to go. This is my idea, so my reputation with the Emperor rests upon it. I can’t afford it to fail.’

Vespasian was incensed. ‘So if you hadn’t had a use for Sabinus, you would have left him to his fate?’

‘Dear boy, calm yourself,’ Gaius advised, slumping down onto a couch placed haphazardly just beyond the doors. ‘It doesn’t matter how it was managed or what Pallas’ motives were, the end result is what counts; Sabinus has got a reprieve.’

Sabinus sat down next to him and rested his head in his hands, breathing deeply as the relief flooded through him in a delayed reaction.

‘Yes, but only just. Nar—’

‘“Just” is good enough, Vespasian!’ Sabinus snapped, glaring up at his brother from beneath his eyebrows. ‘I can even take the humiliation of Corvinus being given my command because I know that I have a chance to survive and have my revenge.’

Vespasian collected himself. ‘Yes, I know; but Narcissus seemed to be ahead of us. We didn’t surprise him by bringing you; instead he surprised us by knowing that you were coming.’

‘Oh, but we did surprise him,’ Pallas said, taking two cups of wine from the returning steward and proffering one to Vespasian.

Vespasian took it and downed a good measure. ‘Did we? I saw a man in full control of the situation.’

‘Of course,’ Pallas replied smoothly, taking a sip of wine. ‘That’s because he likes to think that he always is. I purposely told my clerks to let his agent see Sabinus come in here so that he had time to get used to the surprise and regain, in his mind, the upper hand. I know Narcissus very well and I know that if Sabinus had just come through the door of his study unannounced, then, despite how well I’d covered up his part in the assassination, Narcissus would have executed him anyway because he would have felt outmanoeuvred. Narcissus only spared him because he thought that he’d outwitted me; he gave me Sabinus’ life as a sort of consolation prize.’

Vespasian took another gulp of wine as he turned this over in his mind. ‘Why didn’t you tell us that that was what you were doing, instead of just having us sit there not knowing what was going on?’

‘Because, my friend, I needed Narcissus to see the confusion on your faces, otherwise he would have guessed what was happening. If he hadn’t believed that he had genuinely outwitted us, Sabinus would now be dead.’

Vespasian sighed, exasperated by how Claudius’ freedmen played mind-games with one another from behind their neutral expressions. He looked around for a seat and realised how sparsely furnished the room was.

‘Forgive me,’ Pallas said, ‘I have just moved into this suite this morning; it’s still being refurbished to my taste. Please follow me, gentlemen.’

Pallas led them through three high and spacious chambers looking out over the Circus Maximus to the Aventine Hill beyond, shrouded now in a damp mist. Slaves were busy
arranging furniture, polishing ornaments and erecting a couple of statues of Greek, rather than Roman, origin. Vespasian could see that Pallas planned to make himself very comfortable. At the far end of the third room Pallas opened a door and ushered them into a study whose walls were lined with boxed, wooden shelving containing hundreds of cylindrical book cases.

‘Please,’ he said, bidding them to be seated, before going to the far right-hand corner and retrieving a case. He slipped out a scroll and spread it on the desk; it was a map.

‘This is Gaul and Germania,’ Pallas said, placing an inkpot on one side and a wax tablet on the other to keep the scroll from rolling up. ‘The two military provinces on the west bank of the Rhenus, Germania Inferior to the north and Germania Superior in the south, provide the buffer from the lost province of Germania Magna on the east bank.’

Vespasian, Sabinus and Gaius peered at it; there was not a great deal of detail to take in.

‘As you can see, the Rhenus is clearly marked, as are the legions’ camps along its western bank.’ Pallas pointed to each one, from north to south, with a well-manicured finger and stopped at one halfway down the river. ‘And this is Argentoratum, where the Second Augusta is stationed.’ He then traced his finger a good way north and east. ‘And this is the site of Varus’ disaster, in the homelands of the Cherusci.’

Vespasian looked more closely; there was no marking beneath Pallas’ finger. ‘How do you know?’

‘I don’t exactly, but from the reports we have from twenty-five years ago when Germanicus and his general Caecina found the decayed bodies of our men strewn through twenty miles of forest, this is our best estimation.’

‘How are we meant to get all the way there?’ Sabinus asked. ‘Walk in with a whole legion and invite the bastards to have a repeat show?’

‘I don’t think that would be altogether sensible,’ Pallas observed with the merest hint of condescension in his voice.

Sabinus bristled but refrained from a riposte.

‘The Eagle is not going to be there any more,’ Vespasian said, suspecting that he was stating the obvious but feeling that it should be said anyway.

Pallas nodded. ‘In all probability not; but Narcissus is right, it’s the best place to start. It’s more than likely it’s in the homeland of one of the six tribes that took part in the battle under the leadership of Arminius, to give him his Latin name. The Eighteenth was found with the Marsi and the Nineteenth with the Bructeri. So that just leaves the Sicambri, the Chauci, the Chatti and Arminius’ own tribe, the Cherusci.’ As he named the tribes he pointed to their homelands marked with their names. ‘However, an Eagle is a potent and valuable trophy for these people and worth fortunes in trade, so there is no guarantee that it has stayed in one place.’