To Crown a Caesar (The Praetorian Series: Book II) (13 page)

Like most good stories, we’d told it a hundred times, but it never got any less funny.

Unfortunately, further storytelling was interrupted by the sound of the tent’s entrance flapping open.

I quickly pushed
everything from my mind when the sound of footsteps inched closer to the bed.  I freed my Sig P220 quietly from its thigh holster, the metal gun rasping quietly against its plastic sheath, and I felt Helena shift in my arms, just enough so that she wouldn’t get in the way if I needed to do something fancy.  I saw the figure fall to his hands and knees, and I knew it was either Galba or someone I’d have to deal with messily.

When the sheet was ripped away from the bed, I pushed my suppressor equipped pistol into the intruder’s face.  My finger on the trigger, I diverted my aim immediately when I noticed Galba’s
dark eyes looking back at mine.  I sheathed my pistol with a slow breath through my teeth, Helena’s head slumping against my chest, the adrenaline rushing out of her system as well.

“Galba,” I hissed.  “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Me too,” Helena said. 

I felt her breathing heavily and hoped she wasn’t having another pain attack.

“I apologize,” Galba replied.  “Please, come out.  It is safe, but we only have a short time before you must hide again.  I presumed you would enjoy an opportunity to stretch.”

I nodded and waited for Helena to move off of my arm, which had fallen asleep beneath her.  Free from her weight, I hauled myself out from bene
ath the bed, my back stiff from hours of idleness.  I turned and offered Helena a hand and we spent the next five minutes walking around the tent, stretching muscles that had been dormant for over eleven hours.  Helena moved over towards the tent’s entrance, her back to me, and raised her arms high over her head and stretched.  A second later she snapped them down, clutching her side.  I turned away before she could notice I was watching.  She’d been trying to hide the fact that she was still afflicted by her abdominal pains since they’d begun, and I didn’t want to make it worse by letting on like I noticed now.

By the time she turned around
, I was already sitting on Galba’s bed, stretching forward and gripping my bootless toes, not paying her any attention.  She came over and sat next to me while Galba poured some wine into three cups, handing us two of them.

He plopped into his chair heavily and raised his glass.  “To the empress, Agrippina.  May her wisdom know no
equal.”  He took a long gulp and refilled his glass while Helena and I exchanged bewildered glances, taking polite sips.

Helena winced at the dry vintage, still unable to truly appreciate it, before asking, “Is there something you want to tell us, Galba?”

He scowled in her direction, not used to being treated like an equal by a woman, only to tolerate it because he knew what she could do.  “Yes, I suppose there is,” he said, finishing off his cup, failing to elaborate.

“Well…” I began, swirling my left hand in a circle after he didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

He jerked, as if roused from a deep sleep.  Looking at his empty cup, he glanced over at the wine jug before setting the cup down and massaging his scalp.  “It appears,” he began quietly, “that Agrippina has interesting aspirations for the upcoming campaign, and that she hopes to be more involved than we originally thought.”

I glanced at Helena again, but her lips were tight and angry, her eyes unfocused and distant.  It was her “Agrippina” look.

I looked back at Galba.  “Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

He looked up, his body sagging forward.  “Agrippina came ashore this morning, strutting down the gangplank with a look of authority in her gait.  She was wearing legionar
y armor, her attire speaking volumes as to why she is here well before she uttered a word.”

I could only imagine how much Helena must be fuming.  Female legionary armor was her shtick, and Agrippina had just stepped on her toes.  The first thing I thought of, however, was actually Elizabeth I at Tilbury, Essex riding her steed wearing silver armor over a white dress, rallying her troops in preparation for the Spanish Armada, even though it had already been defeated at sea.  Unfortunately, Elizabeth I had the chops for the duty, whereas it seemed to me Agrippina was just playing dress up and using legionary armor as an excuse to show as much skin as possible.

Galba refilled his goblet, but didn’t drink from it.  “She looked every part the military general.  She even had a scarlet red cape wrapped around her shoulders.  Vespasian, myself, and the other legions’ legates, along with more bureaucrats, advisors, legionnaires, and sycophants than the gods could count were there, ready to receive her.  When she made landfall, she immediately called for a council of war in Vespasian’s
praetorium
without delay.”

I leaned back on Galba’s bed, propping myself up on my elbows and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to concentrate.  I
had a suspicion as to where this was going, and it was bad.  In the original timeline, Agrippina had showed interest in the legions when she was married to Claudius, and I wondered if she was going to take it another step now.

“Once in
side the
praetorium
, she outlined her plans for the German campaign,” Galba continued.  “At first, I thought little of it.  They actually made sense.  Besides, both Caligula and Tiberius visited their battlefield commanders when they were emperor, so I was initially hopeful, even thankful Agrippina was claiming a personal stake in the campaign.  It meant we’d have the backing of the Senate, and it will definitely inspire the men.”

I tried not to think about Agrippina riding a horse, each leg dangling over the side, with the only thing covering her goods being her armor.  Unfortunately, it was hard not to.  The legions would love it and certainly inspire them.

“It wasn’t until she announced she would be assuming overall command, that I started to worry.  As did my colleagues.  Legate Gnaeus Hosidius Geta, my friend and one of Vespasian’s co-legates in Britain, was so bold as to ask her if she had lost her sanity.  She had her Praetorians carry him outside where he was beaten and crucified.  His replacement should be here within the month.”  He paused as he looked guiltily into his cup before giving into temptation, swallowing its contents in one big gulp.  “She will be with the army at every turn in the campaign and will, as is granted by her title, be commander of the army with Vespasian acting as her second.”

“You can’t be serious,” Helena grumbled.

“Of course I’m serious, woman!  I do not need two of you talking down to me today…” he mumbled that last part, the alcohol already taking effect.  “She is ready to take command and has two of her Praetorian cohorts and her Sacred Band with her to ensure a seamless transition.”

That was the first good news I’d heard yet.  If I could get in contact with Gaius, Marcus, or even Quintilius, the Sacred Band’s
primus pilus
, perhaps I could get a clearer picture surrounding Agrippina and how to move forward after taking Nero.

“Other than her announcement, there is little else to report.  We have plans to start the campaign
in May, with plans to push all the way to the steppes of Sarmatia within two years.”

I whistled.  That was an
extremely ambitious plan.  Rome had tried a number of times, but had never been able to conquer Germany, and while tentative progress would be made north of the Danube River by the time Trajan came to power, they didn’t hold it for long.  Ambition aside, I really couldn’t see the logic in it.  Germany was a recalcitrant and angry land.  Its occupants wouldn’t sway to Roman rule easily.  The only benefit the Romans would receive out of such an operation would be a strategic foothold against invading Huns in a few hundred years. 

I take it back.  If the Romans could hold t
he line in Sarmatia against that invasion, preventing the Great Migration, disallowing the thousands of Goths, Ostrogoths, Visigoths, Vandals, and other “barbarian” tribes into the Roman Empire, things may turn out differently.  That event had always been one of the underlying reasons for “the fall of Rome”, but as interested as I was in testing the theory, I couldn’t let that happen.

It would defeat the purpose of everything I was trying to do.

“So what’s her itinerary for the rest of this week?”  I asked.

“She’ll be staying on her barge, docked right next to the camp.  We’ll be drilling the boys hard in the upcoming weeks so ther
e will be little for her to do.  Even though she wants to command, she doesn’t seem at all interested in the army’s readiness.  I imagine she will be spending much of her time there with Nero.”

“So,
he’s here?”

“I have not seen him as of yet,” Galba replied, “but Agrippina
always keeps him close.  I cannot tell you where he may be aboard the ship, but I can tell you that it is a labyrinth.  It has many levels and its interior is honeycombed with passages and rooms.  If you’re planning to board her, you will be searching for a long time.”

“Leave that to us,” I said,   “We’re really good at sneaking around.”

“Yes,” Galba said slowly, “you are.  Just don’t be fooled by Agrippina’s beauty a second time.”

I grimaced at the reminder.  When Agrippina had tricked Santino and me into rescuing Nero four years ago, I had been doing my duty to an innocent child and his grieving mother.  Most of me was at least, but I couldn’t deny that a part of me
had been blinded by Agrippina’s little seduction act she pulled when convincing me to go.  The woman practically threw herself at me, and I almost went for it.  I may have never gone on the rescue mission at all had she not been so beautiful and alluring.

“Don’t worry about us, Galba,” Helena said.  “Jus
t ensure no one tips her off that you’ve been talking to us.”  She finished her statement by jabbing a finger at him.

He smiled, directing it towards me.  “I’ve always liked your woman,” he said, taking another pull of his wine.  “Beautiful, angry and direct.  Good qualities to have in a lover.  If only all of us were so lucky.”  He finished his thoughts with another long gulp of his wine, streams of the liquid messily running down his mouth.

“Maybe you should slow down a bit, Galba,” I said, indicating his cup.  “I think you’ve had enough.”

“Bah!”  He said, swinging his empty cup wildly.
  “I’m sure Vespasian won’t care. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s in his tent doing the same thing right now.”

Galba stood, swaying in place after getting up too fast, his hand flying out to grasp his desk for stability.  I looked at Helena and she returned my look with an amused smile.  I rolled my eyes and stood to help the Roman collect his bearings.

He shrugged me off.  “I’m fine… I’m fine.  Now.  Back under the bed.   I will bring you some food tonight, but then you must leave.”

“What about my plan?”  I asked as he turned to leave.

He reached up and gripped the cross bracing that held the tent together, just above the entrance.  He hung there for a few seconds before turning to face me.  “I will help you but not until the campaign is under way.  Hopefully, you can then draw Agrippina away from Germany and let the professionals handle the war.  Then we can use Vespasian’s triumphs to help convince the Senate and people of Rome he’s a worthy successor.”

I smiled.  “Hey, that’s a good idea.  Wish I would have thought of that.”

Galba didn’t return the smile.  “I’ve had plenty of time to think today, and will have plenty of time still to come.  You have not made my life any easier with your words; I just hope I don’t come to resent you for it.”

I gulped, hoping he didn’t either.  Galba turned and stumbled out of the tent, leaving Helena and I alone once again.  Standing halfway between the entrance and Helena, I turned and looked at her.  She gave me a shrug, moved over to the cabinet where she placed her P90,
retrieved it and started to clean it.

I dug out my radio and switched it back on.

I clicked the PTT button and spoke into my throat mic, “3-3, 3-1, over.”

Santino’s voice came back almost immediately.  “This is 3-3.  Where the fuck have you been?”

I smiled.  “Sorry, 3-3.  3-2 and I have been…” I thought for the right words, something between the truth and something to push his buttons.  “been busy.”

“Aw, that’s cute.  Now, want to fill me in on why you turned off your damn radio?”

“Sorry again,” I repeated, “3-2 and I needed to lie low for the day.  Our conversation with Triple Chin took longer than expected.”  I still had to smile at our use of call signs and code names.  There was no way anyone could pick up our transmissions, but it was still a good practice.  “But, the mission was still successful.  We’ve also learned that target November is staying onboard the barge.”

“What’s November doing here?”

“He’s with The Whore,” I answered, looking over at Helena, who looked up from her cleaning to give me another grin.  That designation was her idea.  “Apparently, she has big plans for the legion.  We’ll talk about it later.”

“Roger.  Don’t forget to keep me updated this time,” he said, his voice bitter.

“Copy.  3-1 out.” 

I finished the conversation by switching off the radio.  Rechargeable or not, it was still best to keep it off when it wasn’t needed.