Soldier of Rome: The Last Campaign (The Artorian Chronicles) (5 page)

“Things change, Marcus,” the praetorian said coldly. “Now unhand me!”

As the men fled back up the corridor, the brace over the door behind them snapped, and swarms of Caligula’s German bodyguard rushed into the corridor. Upon seeing their emperor lying in a growing pool of blood, his body stabbed and slashed in dozens of places, they flew into a rage. Bystanders who had not fled, but instead watched the macabre execution of the emperor, suddenly became targets for the Germans’ rage. They assailed anyone in the vicinity, causing another wave of panic, as even the troupe of dancing boys were assaulted by the burly men with heavy spears.

Down the other end of the tunnel, a
s they reentered the imperial palace, Marcus stopped and grabbed Regulus by the shoulder of his toga. Word of the emperor’s assassination had already started to spread, and fear gripped those within the house as Cassius and his praetorians set about their fearful task.

“By Diana, what is he doing?” Marcus asked, fearing the answer.

“I would say he’s trying to singlehandedly restore the republic,” the former consul replied quietly.

“
Or settle his own petty scores,” Marcus retorted. “And what of Caesonia…and Claudius? Surely Cassius will not harm them! Caesonia is innocent of any of her husband’s crimes, and Claudius has always thought of Cassius as a friend!”

“I fear that friendship alone will not be enough to save him from Cassius’ wrath,” Regulus lamented. “As you said, we all agreed that only Caligula should die. I regret that we cannot stop Cassius, though I will have no further part in this.
Come, let us leave this place.”

Unbeknownst to Marcus and Regulus, Claudius had been privy to their conversation; listening from a balcony that overlooked the entrance to the underground passage.
Panic had erupted within the palace, and he now found himself gripped in fear as he searched for his wife, Messalina. The young woman had been married to Claudius by Caligula four years prior as a cruel joke, given that the then twenty-year-old was young enough to be Claudius’ daughter. Still, he was very much in love with her. She had since borne him a daughter and was now nine months pregnant with their second child.

It was the cry of another child that alerted him.
The door to one of the many rooms along the upstairs corridor was flung open, and Claudius recognized Cassius Chaerea and another praetorian entering. He stumbled along and was able to watch as Cassius was approached by Caligula’s wife, Caesonia. Ten years older than the slain emperor, and more plain than pretty, she was still a kind-hearted woman who sought the best in everyone. She and Claudius had been close, and she’d even looked after his daughter on occasion.

“
Oh, Cassius, thank the gods!” she said as she held her one-year old daughter up against her chest. “What has happened? Please tell me!”

“I think you know,” the praetorian said coolly, removing his helmet and drawing his gladius.

The woman closed her eyes in realization, yet she refused to show any of the terror that welled up inside her.
“And what will you do?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“Free Rome from the rule of mad tyrants that fancy themselves as gods. And that can only happen when every member of the imperial family is dead. I am sorry.”

“No,” Caesonia said, shaking her head as her eyes filled with tears. “Kill me if you must, but spare the others. My daughter is barely a year old
. And what of Claudius and Messalina? Venus have mercy, Cassius! Claudius is your friend!”

“And that is why his death will bring me no joy,” he replied.

Claudius’ eyes grew wide, and he slowly backed away, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. He broke into a hobbling sprint as he heard Caesonia scream. What he did not know was that her cries were not for herself, but for her daughter. Seeing her child’s bloodied remains, she then bravely offered her neck to Cassius, who slashed the artery open and shoved her roughly onto the bed, where she twitched violently as death took hold.

Claudius was now terrified for himself as well as his family.
Caligula had insisted on keeping his uncle ever by his side over the past week. He did not even know where Messalina and his daughter were. He further cursed himself for being unable to protect them. He stumbled into the antechamber of the imperial throne room, shouts and terrified screams echoing along the corridors of the palace. Without any other options presenting themselves, he elected to hide behind a large curtain. Shamed, and feeling both feeble and a coward, he wept.

Chaos e
nsued both within and without the palace as word of the emperor’s murder spread like wildfire. What was impossible to gauge was just how many were involved in the conspiracy. While most of the senate would hail the hated Gaius Caligula’s demise, for the praetorian guard it was a different matter entirely. Only a small handful of officers had been complicit in the plot, with most of the rest remaining loyal to the office of emperor, which they were sworn to protect. That their prefect had gone rogue and violated his oath appalled them. Whatever their personal opinion of Gaius Caligula, it was not up to them to remove an emperor from power, and by doing so a dangerous precedent had now been set. Furthermore, if the imperial line was dead, the senate would have little use for them. They would either be sent to the legions or simply left unemployed.

A large number of these men, led by a centurion named Cornelius, stormed into the antechamber.
With the emperor dead, Cornelius took it upon himself to try and save the remaining members of the imperial family before Cassius got to them. For the moment, he was too focused on his task at hand to lament that a man he’d looked up to his entire life had lost all control of his senses. Like many, Cornelius could not completely fault his commander for killing the emperor, yet his rampage of murder against the innocent had taken his vengeance over the cliff and into the abyss of madness.

“By Juno, what have they done?” he said as his men fanned out.

“Possibly started a civil war,” his optio, a former legionary named Gratus, grumbled. “Some may think they’ve restored the republic, yet you know as well as I that there are those amongst the senate, as well as legion commanders, who think they should be Caesar. And meanwhile, with no emperor, what’s to become of us?”

“Sir,” one of the men said, holding up a silver pitcher, “it’d be a shame to let those damned Germans or other looters get their hands on these. Mind if we help ourselves?”

“Normally I would have you flogged for making such an insolent suggestion,” the centurion stated coldly. He said no more about the matter and, with a subtle nod from Gratus, the men simply shrugged and started to grab anything of value they could readily carry back to their camp. As they did so, Gratus noticed something unusual behind one of the curtains that his men were tearing down in order to use as makeshift sacks.

“Hey, Cornelius,” he said, drawing his gladius. He quickly pulled the curtain aside, revealing the terrified Claudius, who shrank away from the heavily armed praetorian. “Well
, what have we here? You think it’s one of the assassins?”

“P…please don’t hurt me!” Claudius pleaded
as the optio brandished his weapon menacingly. “I j…just want to find my family and leave!”

“Hold fast!” Cornelius snapped. “He’s not a conspirator; it’s the emperor’s uncle, Claudius.
He’s Germanicus Caesar’s brother. Put your weapon away, Gratus.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt him,” the optio replied, his face breaking into a broad grin. “I’m going to
salute
him.”

“What are you on about?” the centurion asked, puzzled.

“Think about it,” Gratus replied. “He’s the only surviving member of the Julio-Claudian line who could have a legitimate claim to the imperial throne.”

Cornelius’ eyes brightened, and Claudius’ grew wide in startled realization as to what the praetorian optio was suggesting.

“N…no!” he protested, his head twitching violently. “W…what you propose is madness! J…just let me g…go find my wife!”

“Are you insane?” Gratus retorted. “Your nephew’s German guard
s are on the rampage, and the conspirators are still loose. We don’t know who all of them are, and unfortunately for you, they’re mostly dressed like us.”

“If either of them finds you, you’re a dead man,” Cornelius added. He then addressed his optio. “Get him out of here, Gratus. Take some men and see to it he’s delivered safely to the Castra Praetoria. I’ll use the remainder of our force to find his family.”

“Understood,” Gratus replied. He then bowed to Claudius with his gladius extended in salute. “This way,
Caesar
.”

The halls of the palace were mostly deserted as the praetorians led the muddled Claudius along the corridors. Two of the men practically carried him, as his limp made their pace unnervingly slow.
As they approached the main entrance, a troupe of German guards came bursting from one of the side passages.

“Shit,” Gratus uttered through clenched teeth.

As the Germans approached them with shields and spears ready to strike, the two squads of praetorians formed a protective wall in front of Claudius.

“
Gladius…draw!
Protect the emperor!”

“Halten!” the lead German said to his men, holding his spear to the side to stop their advance. He
had heard Gratus’ order, and speaking passable Latin, he understood what had been said. He cocked his head to one side, giving the group of praetorians, who stood battle ready with their weapons drawn, a perplexed gaze. He then addressed Gratus in heavily accented Latin. “This…emperor?”

“That’s right,” the optio replied. He hoped to bluff his way past the
Germans and avoid a bloody fight. He stepped in front of the large man, who stood at least a half-head taller than him, and met his hard stare. “This is your new emperor, now show him some respect!”

Whatever Gratus’ racial prejudices towards what he considered ‘barbarian’ peoples; this German was clearly a thinker. He
, too, understood that with Caligula dead, the only way to quickly restore order and give them the best chance of bringing the assassins to justice was to install a new emperor as soon as possible. He gave the optio a nod of understanding before turning to address his men.

“Hagel den Kaiser!”
he shouted, holding his spear high.

His men appeared at first baffled by this assertion from their commander, yet none of them so much as uttered a word in protest.
He then turned and bowed deeply to Claudius, who was still in a state of disbelief and simply stood with his head twitching slightly.

“Call off the rest of your men,” Gratus ordered the German as the praetorians sheathed their weapons and started to lead Claudius away once more. “Let them know that Tiberius Claudius Nero Germanicus is their new emperor, and they
will
swear fealty to him!”

The German nodded in understanding before shouting subsequent orders to his men who formed up into two lines, weapons held in salute as Gratus and his men led Claudius between them.

“I don’t know about you, sir,” Gratus said quietly to Claudius, “but I think I may need to change my loincloth after that!”