Saviour of Rome [Gaius Valerius Verrens 7] (41 page)

Valerius hesitated. Calpurnia had all but confessed that she’d been the driving force behind what went on in Asturica Augusta before Melanius intervened. Clearly, the only reason she agreed to cooperate with Petronius was because she feared Melanius’s ambitions would get her killed. What else wasn’t she telling him? Still … ‘If it is within my power.’

A bitter laugh. ‘I need more than that. I need assurances. Petronius—’

‘I am not Petronius.’

She reached for the case. ‘I will not lose all I have worked for. You were sent for this information by the governor. Perhaps if I deliver it myself he will give me what I need.’

‘I was sent here by the Emperor.’ He saw a flicker of alarm in her eyes and she withdrew her hand. ‘I have the Emperor’s authority,’ he continued. ‘And the Emperor rewards those who are loyal to him.’

‘Then I must trust you to do what is right.’ The words were said lightly enough, but her tone had an edge that told him what she expected.

‘What will you do now?’

‘Melanius is already suspicious of me. I cannot return to Asturica Augusta unless I want to go the way of Saco and Petronius. My sister has a house in Toletum. I mean to stay there until this is over. Afterwards, Rome, I think, where Severus’s money will secure me a place in society. Perhaps we will meet again, Gaius Valerius Verrens? You are an interesting man, I—’

The blast of a trumpet interrupted her. Valerius frowned and pulled back the curtain in the doorway. ‘That’s the call to close up. Someone’s on the move.’

‘That is what I was about to tell you,’ Calpurnia said. ‘Melanius has ordered a move against Tarraco within the week. Elements of the garrison at Legio have been called to Asturica to provide a proper escort for Melanius and the others.’

Soon they heard the sound of metal clinking against metal, shouted orders and hundreds of iron-soled feet on hard-packed earth. Calpurnia craned her head for a better view as the front ranks of a legionary column marched into sight in full armour, four abreast and led by a
signifer
carrying a cohort standard.

Valerius counted them as they went past. ‘At least four hundred men.’

‘My fool of a husband has been having the servants polish the armour he last wore as a young tribune. He talks as if the battles have already been won. They have all been bewitched by Melanius to believe they cannot fail. Calpurnius Piso? A boy who thinks his bloodline entitles him to command and to rule. And Proculus, a mere caretaker who could have stopped all this three years ago if he’d been man enough to stand up to Melanius.’

‘Nepos mentioned that Melanius had some sort of hold over him?’

Her long nose twitched as if something putrid had been placed under it. ‘Severus said there were whispers about young girls – very young girls – who went missing wherever Proculus was posted. Nothing of the sort has happened in Legio, or I would have heard. Melanius must have warned him to contain his urges, or he has outgrown them, as old men do.’ Her laugh was as bitter as a winter frost. ‘Old men, an ambitious boy and a barbarian savage and they think they can take Hispania for their own. Every one will be hanging from a cross before Saturnalia.’

‘Only if Pliny can stop them.’

‘Will Pliny be able to defeat them?’ Serpentius sat on a stone bench opposite Valerius in the house in Avala the Spaniard had once shared with his wife.

‘That depends.’ Valerius continued to pack supplies into a cloth sack. There’d be no mule on this journey. The horse would have to carry the extra weight, because whatever he decided he’d be moving fast. ‘The odds are badly against him. Melanius and Piso will lead a force of close to three thousand legionaries, plus Harpocration’s Parthian cavalry and the other auxiliaries stationed at Legio, say five thousand men. Even if he reacted instantly to my letter, Pliny will be fortunate to raise five hundred, and most of them will be cavalry from his escort.’

‘Ten to one.’ Serpentius whistled.

‘Even so,’ Valerius put his mind to the tactical problems the governor was likely to face, ‘he might have a chance if he could choose his own ground. The problem is if Melanius can force battle on him at the time and place of his choosing. Pliny doesn’t have any option but to fight, whatever the odds. He can’t just give up Hispania to a rabble of garrison troops and auxiliaries. It would put every province in the Empire at risk and probably bring Vespasian down in any case.’ He picked up a lock
knife, considered discarding it as too heavy then changed his mind. It artfully combined a spoon, a fork and a tool for removing stones from a horse’s hoof in a single mechanism, and you never knew when it would come in useful. He placed it in the sack and returned to his subject. ‘The big question is whether the Sixth will fight. They don’t even know they’re rebels. Their officers have convinced them they’ll be putting down a rebellion. What will happen if they come up against another regular formation? I’ve done what I can to sow the seeds of doubt, but who knows if it will work?’

‘If we can reach him first at least we can give him a chance to prepare.’ Serpentius tried to lift Valerius’s mood.

‘That’s true,’ Valerius agreed. ‘But even so, is the outcome likely to be any different? If Pliny stayed in Tarraco and defended the walls he might have a chance, but I may have done the rebels’ job for them by luring him out into the open.’

‘Then what can we do?’

Valerius met his friend’s eyes. ‘There is one possibility. Melanius has always been the driving force behind this conspiracy. From what Nepos and the others said, without him it would have collapsed long ago.’

‘You mean to cut the head off the snake.’

‘If I can.’

Serpentius shook his head. ‘If
we
can.’

‘But we’re not committing suicide to do it,’ Valerius insisted. ‘We can afford to shadow the column for a few days and still be in time to warn Pliny. If the opportunity to kill or capture Melanius presents itself we take it. If not, we’ll ride south.’

He hefted the sack and Serpentius followed him out into the morning sunshine. To his surprise he found Tito outside the gate with close to forty followers, hard-looking men, armed with spears or the vicious, curved
falcata
swords their forefathers had once used. Each stood at the head of a stocky, long-haired pony and their dress ranged from leather jerkins studded with bronze discs to the full set of mail Tito wore, courtesy of Valerius. More men were streaming in on foot through the pass from the mountain. He looked to the Spaniard. What
was going on? Serpentius could only shrug and stare at his son.

Tito waved a hand that encompassed his followers. ‘We have decided that for our own honour we cannot let you risk your lives alone.’ Serpentius let out a snort of bitter laughter at this presumption, but Valerius reached out and laid a hand on his arm. ‘If you fail,’ the young man continued, ‘each of us will suffer the consequences. Better for all if you succeed.’ Tito glanced to where Valerius now noticed Julia stood, and she nodded agreement. ‘And the greater the force that rides with you the greater the chance of success.’

‘I said I would not ask one Zoelan or Asturian to risk his life for Rome,’ Serpentius barked. ‘You defy me at your peril, boy.’

Tito faced up to his father. ‘It is not a question of asking and we are not doing this for Rome, but for ourselves and our families. The old ways are gone and they will never return. The only question is whether we learn to live with Rome or continue to bend the knee to the criminals who have bled Asturica Augusta dry and used the hook-noses to terrorize our people. Everyone here has suffered at the hands of Harpocration and his Parthians. They thirst for revenge. You,’ he pointed to Valerius, ‘said that the Emperor had promised to extend
civitas
in Hispania. At the time I did not understand what
civitas
meant. I feared we would be exchanging one form of bondage for another. But Julia has explained it to me and it seems to me that we can all benefit. When the time comes will you speak for Avala and the other mountain communities?’

‘If it is within my power,’ Valerius assured him in a voice strong enough for all to hear. A murmur ran through the growing crowd of men.

‘Then we will fight for you.’

Valerius shook his head. ‘I will speak out for the people of Avala whatever the outcome, but it must be your father’s decision whether you accompany us. These are his mountains and I have learned to trust his judgement with my life.’ He saw Tito’s angry glance at his father. ‘This is no slight on you, Tito, or your comrades, but there are some situations where two men are capable of achieving
more than two hundred. This may be one of them. Serpentius?’

Serpentius marched towards his son with a look of grim resolve on his savage features. He stared into Tito’s eyes, arms by his sides and his fists clenching and unclenching. Tito tensed and no man could predict the outcome. The silence seemed to last an eternity before Serpentius reached out and clasped Tito by the shoulders. ‘You are my son. Your forefathers fought for Hannibal against Rome. Rome killed your mother and condemned me to a living death. But,’ now his eyes swept over the warriors who stood watching them, ‘discovering your existence has taught me there comes a time when a man must stop looking over his shoulder to the past and strive to create a better future. We can never do that with men like Melanius, Ferox and Severus robbing and enslaving our people. This changes everything.’ He looked over his shoulder to where Valerius stood watching. ‘We have an opportunity to place Rome in our debt. If you pledge that debt will be paid I will be proud to fight beside my son and my people.’

‘Are you certain about this?’ Valerius looked over the ragged band of Asturian warriors. Fighters, yes, but not soldiers. What would happen when they came up against the legionaries of the Sixth?

‘Your pledge?’

‘Of course. But I have the final say in how they’re used.’

‘You will command, Valerius, as always. You have never been careless with men’s lives. But I have some thoughts.’

‘Yes?’

The Spaniard nodded solemnly. ‘But first we must know exactly what we face.’

Two days later they looked upon their enemies.

Serpentius, Valerius and Tito had left the main portion of their motley force in the charge of a reliable elder after agreeing to meet again midway between Asturica Augusta and Legio. Meanwhile, Serpentius led Valerius and his son to a concealed position among stunted trees overlooking the road. They were plagued by buzzing insects beneath a burning sun that threatened to turn the rocks into glowing coals.
This was the day Calpurnia Severa claimed Melanius would begin his march on Tarraco, but as the hours passed Valerius began to doubt. He had just dropped into a weary doze when Serpentius touched his arm.

‘Stay down,’ the Spaniard hissed. ‘Flank guards just below us.’

Valerius crouched behind the bole of a pine tree and looked down towards the road. A half troop of Parthian auxiliary cavalry rode by in a dusty field just below, their spear points glittering in the sunlight. A hazy cloud marked more horsemen on the far side of the valley. As he watched, the head of the column came into sight. Melanius had called the First and Second cohorts of the Sixth to Asturica to provide a show of strength as he began his bid for power. The legion’s involvement would have the twin effect of giving the operation a false legitimacy while simultaneously cowing any potential opposition.

Serpentius, gladiator trained to identify a weakness at a hundred paces, recognized it immediately. His eyes glittered like a hawk marking its prey. ‘See how Melanius, Severus, Piso and Harpocration all ride with the vanguard of Parthians,’ he pointed out. ‘The First cohort is two hundred paces and more behind, and the Second further back still. Then a smaller rearguard of more Parthians. Poor march discipline?’ He aimed the question at Valerius.

Valerius nodded. They’d witnessed it often in the early days of a long march. The excitement and hectic discipline natural when setting out was quickly replaced by lethargy, which in turn was magnified by the knowledge the formation was still in secure territory. It was never easy to maintain formation between infantry and cavalry, but doubly so with inexperienced soldiers. Melanius’s legionary cohorts, for all their long service, were garrison troops, who’d seldom left the fort for the past three years.

‘Proculus likely feels he has nothing to fear until he’s beyond Legio,’ the one-handed Roman suggested. ‘There is no force in Asturia that would pose a threat to two cohorts of legionary infantry. He’s allowed the First cohort to drop back so it doesn’t have to eat the dust of the vanguard. Melanius is the only one with the wit to see the danger, but
I’d guess he doesn’t care to get involved in military matters. Piso is sensitive about his status as an officer of the Sixth. Melanius won’t do anything that might undermine his position.’ He studied the column again, wiping sweat from his eyes. ‘But what of it? Proculus is right. Even with the element of surprise our few hundred farmers would be slaughtered before the legionaries were properly warmed up.’

Tito bridled at the insult to his countrymen, but Serpentius cuffed him on the arm. ‘Listen to someone who knows what he’s talking about and learn from him. Their order of march is a weakness, but we’re not strong enough to take advantage of it.’

‘Then what’s the point of us even being here?’ Tito demanded.

‘Because,’ Valerius suddenly understood what Serpentius envisaged, ‘circumstances change and possibilities arise …’

‘But you have to be in a position to take advantage of those possibilities.’

‘And you have an idea?’

Tito looked at them as if they were mad, but his father only grinned.

‘I have an idea.’

‘This is where I stopped the gold convoy on the night Petronius died. I don’t see why it shouldn’t work again.’

They stood where the bank shelved towards the ford across the river. Valerius noted the narrow defile on the far side and the rocks that would protect the defenders. The road cut through a flat plain to reach this point, with two hundred or so paces of dusty earth, tufts of dried yellow grass and prickly shrubs separating the valley walls. They’d coaxed their horses down the rocky slope that formed the north side of the valley. To the south a gradual rise led to a long whaleback hill covered in stunted green pines. Experience told him that with a little effort they might make Melanius pause here – but stop him?