Soldier of Rome- Rise of the Flavians Page 12

  “You worry too much,” the emperor spoke up. “There have been no incursions from those filthy barbarians across the Rhine, even while we took the majority of the legions with us on our glorious expedition.”

  There was a rapid knock on the door, and one of Vitellius’ freedman clerks hurriedly ushered in a messenger from the senate.

  “A bit late for dispatches from the senate,” the emperor observed.

  “Forgive me, sire,” the messenger said. “This is urgent.”

  Valens impatiently stepped forward and snatched Vespasian’s dispatch from the man. He gritted his teeth as he handed it to Vitellius. “The winds of treason blow once more.”

  Chapter VII: Generations of Valor

  Rome

  18 July 69 A.D.

  ***

  It was late when Aula arrived at Sabinus’ manor house. After this latest trek across the Mediterranean, she was completely exhausted. Her hair was matted from two weeks of sea spray, then being crammed beneath her large hat for most of the afternoon. Her tunic was filthy and splotched by the salt water, and she desperately wished to strip out of it. She banged the large knocker of the main door. It was opened by a slave woman, who seemed rather pleased to see Aula.

  “My lady,” the young girl said, with a bow.

  “I need a bath,” Aula replied, removing her cloak and hat.

  “Of course,” the servant said. “I will have one drawn for you immediately. I am sorry that Master Sabinus is not in. He is at an important meeting with the senate.”

  “Yes, I know,” Aula remarked, with a tired smile.

  A pair of slaves escorted her to her room, where they helped her out of her tunic and into a loose fitting robe. She set her spatha on a side table and decided she would give it a good cleaning with an oil rag later. The weapon had served her father for decades, and she was determined to care for it, in case it should ever need to serve her as well.

  She hurried along to the smaller of the private bath chambers. The waters were only partially heated, yet she did not care. She stripped naked and completely submerged herself in the deep pool, scrubbing her fingers through her hair. The last two weeks’ worth of sweat, grim, and sea spray were slowly soaked away from her body, as she leaned back against the side of the small pool. Aula closed her eyes, allowing her mind and body to relax as growing heat of the water seeped into her pores.

  After nearly half an hour, she emerged from the bath and laid out on a nearby table. Slaves scraped and then rubbed scented oil into her skin. Aula instructed them to massage her thoroughly, a relief to her tired muscles. After almost another hour, her skin red from being scrapped and vigorously rubbed, she finally donned her stola and decided to see if her benefactor, Sabinus, had returned.

  It was late evening, and as she approached the dining hall she heard voices. She knew Sabinus’ voice immediately, though it took her a moment to recognize that of Suetonius Paulinus. She decided to wait and listen for a time, before announcing herself.

  “So Vitellius denied you the chance to redeem yourself?” Sabinus observed. “To be honest, I’m surprised he did not order your exile.”

  “He essentially told me to piss off,” Paulinus muttered. “And believe me, Valens and Caecina would love nothing more than to see my defiled corpse laid out on the Gemonian Stairs. Fortunately for me, Vitellius and most of the senate still remember my victories in Britannia, as if that gives me any sort of immunity. Still, the emperor emphasized that if he gave me an army, I’d simply hand it over to your brother.”

  “And would you?”

  The old general looked down at the wine cup he turned around in his hands. He decided to avoid the question altogether. “I understand you and Vespasian have not always gotten along, so forgive me if I do not directly answer your question at this time.”

  “I do love my brother,” Sabinus replied, his countenance stern. “However, as brilliant of a soldier as he may be, he has been a headache and an embarrassment for the family on numerous occasions. It seems he’s little suited for anything except killing mindless barbarians and eastern zealots. He was given the perfect opportunity to make some real money when Nero named him Proconsul of North Africa. Instead, he failed miserably to extract any additional revenue from the populace, saying Rome should only take what it needs from provincials. What’s more, the people still hated him, far more than even the worst fleecing governors they’d had before. I later had to rather inconspicuously give him an unsecured loan to prevent his house from being seized.”

  “Wasn’t too inconspicuous, since I knew about it,” Paulinus commented. “But he made it good to you in the end.”

  “Sure, by selling mules,” Sabinus scoffed. “Not exactly a dignified way for a former proconsul and one of the empire’s most renowned generals to make good his debts.” His tone then softened considerably. “But as I said, I do love my brother. It just frustrated me to no end, seeing him given all the opportunities to make his name, as well as increasing the family’s financial and political status in Rome, only to squander it. I will hand it to him, though, he has made a fortune off the Judean campaign. He sent me a rather healthy donative about six months into the war, saying he had kept a tally of all the times I helped him, and this was what I was owed.”

  “How much was it?”

  “Let’s just say, it was enough that I could buy a palace on Sicilia that’s twice the size of my current residence. And according to Titus, both he and my brother have increased their personal fortunes tenfold.”

  “Well, to be fair,” Paulinus said, “when he was helping you conquer Britannia, he was sacking settlements and barbarian hill forts that were of little value. After each slaughter, there were only a handful of slaves to be had. I’ll grant you, he missed quite the opportunity in North Africa. Though I would attribute this to his rather naïve sense of nobility and fairness. That he was despised by the late empress-dowager, Agrippina, only made matters more difficult for him.”

  “Yes, I understand both of you had your little spats with her.” Sabinus laughed.

  “I didn’t go as far as Vespasian, who called her an ‘insufferable twat’ right to her face. And by the time she and I had our disagreements, Nero was already sick of her and didn’t give a damn if anyone insulted his mother. But going back to Vespasian, Judea has been the only real chance for him to make his fortune. Since he is there to punish the region rather than conquer new lands, he can plunder what he wishes, while enslaving as much of the populace as he likes. Galilee, in particular, is very rich in resources with a populace of potential slaves that far exceeds what you encountered in southern Britannia.”

  “Yes, the slave markets have been glutted with fresh stock, because of his exploits,” Sabinus noted. “This has driven prices down so much, I just recently purchased ten new household slaves for less than what I paid for three just a few years ago.”

  Servants entered the hall, bearing the first dinner course. With a momentary pause in their conversation, Aula nodded to the porter who stood near the entrance. He beat his staff three times onto the echoing floor before announcing, “The Noble Lady Aula Cursia Vale!”

  Aula stepped into the hall and saw only two of the couches were occupied. Paulinus sat upright, while Sabinus rose and strolled over to embrace his charge.

  “You’ve returned safe,” he said, much joy and relief in his voice. “It pained me to have to send you away so soon, but my other three couriers had yet to return. You have done well.”

  “I delivered Vespasian’s response to the senate,” she replied, then nodded to Sabinus’ guest. “General Paulinus.”

  “Lady Vale,” Paulinus said, standing up. “What pleasure is this?” He spied the ring on her finger. “Here, let me see that…this is the ring of an imperial courier. Sabinus, since when do you employ patrician women to act as your messengers?”

  “Since I needed someone I could completely trust,” the old senator replied, sitting on his couch and pointing Aula to take one next to them.
Servants immediately rushed over with wine and what was left of the first course.

  “As Prefect of the City of Rome, I am granted the authority to employ up to four imperial couriers,” Sabinus continued. “Or at least, that’s as many signet rings as I had. Lady Vale is an excellent horse rider, and she has more than once expressed to me how she wishes to better serve the empire. As a woman, she naturally cannot stand for any sort of political office, nor can she serve in the army. A pity that. I do recall in Britannia seeing a small number of women fighting on both sides. One of our own companies of allied Syrian archers was led by a woman. A shame she took a spear through the guts.”

  “Yes, I fought against a number of women in Britannia,” Paulinus added.

  “However,” Sabinus continued, “there is no prohibition of Aula serving as a means of gathering and disseminating information for me. As you know, dear friend, information is the ultimate source of power.”

  Paulinus decided not to press Sabinus any further, though his curiosity made him ask a few questions directly of Aula. “You’ve come from Vespasian?”

  Aula simply nodded. She assumed both men had been at the senate chambers when the commander-in-chief’s message was read. She further understood the rather awkward position this placed Sabinus in. Were he to openly declare for his brother, he would be imprisoned or possibly killed as a traitor. And any attempts at voicing support for Vitellius would be viewed as disingenuous and, therefore, bring even greater suspicion upon him.

  “Vespasian will be declared an enemy of the state, if he hasn’t already,” Aula remarked.

  “Given the persons who immediately called for his arrest and execution, it was not difficult to see who was anxious to curry favor with Vitellius,” Paulinus observed. “But most of the senate was rather muted in their condemnation of Vespasian.”

  “The presence of Vitellius’ army in Rome is what makes them cower,” Sabinus conjectured. “The frontiers have been left terribly understrength. Meanwhile, sixty thousand soldiers rot away, doing little but drinking, whoring, and gambling. I cannot help but wonder what kind of shape they will be in, once Vespasian’s army arrives in Italia.”

  “They do a fine job of bullying our colleagues, I’ll grant you that,” Paulinus scoffed. “I swear, half of those cowardly twats would offer to suck Vitellius’ cock, if they thought it would get them a governorship. And should Vespasian defeat Vitellius, these same bastards will likely grovel at his feet.”

  “For which they would get a swift kick to the face,” Aula stated.

  Sabinus enjoyed her comment. “It’s true, my brother detests false flattery.” He then said to Paulinus, “You know both of us will face increasing scrutiny over the coming months. You for having supported a rival emperor, and me for being another claimant’s brother.”

  “Then we must continue to be cautious,” Paulinus replied. “I fear I may have overstepped, when I asked Vitellius to give me command of a legion. Lady Vale, you’ll likely be safest as far from the city as possible.”

  “Do you think Judea is far enough?” she asked, with a playful laugh. “I loathe the idea of climbing aboard another ship, but I am ready to continue doing my part for Rome. It is the empire and her people we all serve. And I do hope whoever wins this hateful war is worthy of ruling as Caesar.”

  “Well spoken,” Paulinus acknowledged.

  “There will be other duties for you to perform,” Sabinus added. “But for now, my dear, you have earned a well-deserved rest. We shall wait to see if the senate decides to send a formal response to Vespasian. If they do, there will be no need for you to travel east for the time being. If not, I will draft a message to be delivered to Vespasian, along with a similar one to his closest ally, Antonius Primus. I will inform Vitellius, personally, that I intend to send such a dispatch to my brother, and I will urge them to choose the path of peace and reason.”

  “A wise move,” Paulinus concurred. “Vitellius, or at least his agents, likely suspect you are sending personal correspondence to Vespasian. Openly declaring you have nothing to hide will help ease any suspicions Vitellius may still harbor towards you.”

  As she laid on her couch listening to the two men talk, it felt strange to Aula. She had almost unfettered access to both sides of the brewing conflict. Still, as she was in the direct employ of Sabinus, she decided she would avoid contact with the Vitellians as much as possible. Since she was, quite possibly, the only woman acting as an imperial courier, she could not hide in anonymity like her male counterparts.

  The game, which many assumed concluded, was instead becoming more dangerous, even within the imperial capital. She reckoned it would become far more hazardous over the coming months, as the Vitellian and Flavian armies came closer to battle. And while grateful for the reprieve, for she was exhausted both physically and mentally after the past few months, she hoped Sabinus would have a mission for her sooner rather than later. Should Vitellius panic and decide to start eliminating anyone who might be associated with his rival, Rome was the last place she wished to be.

  The vessel Vespasian dispatched to Primus and the Danube legions had returned surprisingly quickly. In less than a month, the courier managed to deliver his message to the commanding general and return by ship with his response. This was helped, in no small part, by Primus having already written his dispatch to Vespasian, while posting envoys at each of the port cities in Pannonia. Anticipating what Vespasian would ask of him, he had sent his response before even receiving the original message.

  “Primus has asked for reinforcements,” the commander-in-chief said, as he read over the dispatch. “No surprise there. We should send at least part of our task force to assist him. He says Seventh Gemina is ready to march, as is Seventh Claudia. Though he has yet to hear from Thirteenth Gemina, he doubts General Aquila has any fond feelings towards Vitellius.”

  “Not after the pretender humiliated him and his legion by making them build his amphitheaters,” Titus remarked. “That gives us three more legions, though I agree they need reinforcements.”

  “The problem is, Vitellius still commands a huge fleet,” Mucianus replied. “His ships outnumber ours three-to-one. Otherwise, I would say send Primus in from the north with my division landing on southern Italia at Croton, from there we could smash Vitellius in the middle.”

  “There will be others,” Titus added. “Third Gallica and Eighth Augusta Legions were both Othonian loyalists. If Primus can rally Eleventh Claudia, his army will be almost as large as the one here.”

  “Send three cohorts from our army in Judea,” Vespasian directed. “They will add a Flavian presence to Primus’ division. It’s not much, I’ll grant you, but he needs every blade he can get his hands on. And if we only send three cohorts, the few number of ships should be able to stay along the Greek coast without drawing suspicion from the Vitellian fleet. Six triremes should suffice.”

  “It will be a tight fit for the legionaries,” Mucianus observed. “And there won’t be room for the officers’ horses. Plus the seas along Greece are always extremely choppy, regardless of the time of year.”

  “Using our fastest ships will help mitigate this.” Vespasian shrugged. “And while I never treat the lives of my soldiers as disposable, we must accept the risk with three of our cohorts. I will offer sacrifices to both Neptune and Triton for their safe passage. If the divines do favor our enterprise, then our lads will arrive safe.”

  “My division is making final preparations as we speak,” Mucianus stated. “We should be ready to begin our journey within the next few days.”

  At the camp of the Fifth Cohort of Legio X, Centurion Nicanor expected their orders to make final preparations for the long march to come at any time. In preparation for this, he had ordered a series of inspections of his entire century, with all weapons, armor, and kit laid out for him. Normally, these were conducted by the decani; however, Nicanor felt it was necessary, as their commanding officer, to personally make certain his soldiers were prepared for the
long journey ahead.

  The task forces from Judea and Egypt were to first travel to the city of Cyrrus, in northern Syria, where they would join the Sixth Legion and the detachments from Legio XII. And though few of the men in Legio X knew much about Mucianus, all lamented that their own legate, General Trajan, would remain behind in Judea. Along with Vespasian himself, Trajan was regarded as one of the most formidable military leaders in the entire Imperial Army. His absence, therefore, made it plain that politics among the patrician officers still played a substantial role, even within the more populist Flavian Army.

  “I just hope we’re not setting ourselves up for disaster,” Gaius remarked, as the two officers walked towards where the century had assembled. “The easternmost provinces have declared for Vespasian, but what about the west? Will Britannia, Gaul, Hispania, and Germania side with the pretender? And what of North Africa?”

  “Depending on one’s point of view, either we’re all traitors to Rome or the Vitellians are,” Nicanor conjectured. “When Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon, half of Rome demanded his execution for treason. The other half hailed him as a hero and savior.”

  “But is it really that simple?” Gaius asked. “Is one side truly loyal to Rome, while the opposition are traitors?”

  “When both sides claim to be fighting for the same thing—that is the people of Rome—then whoever wins will be who history declares as the righteous.”

  The two officers ceased in their banter as they approached their century. Signifier Aurelian and Tesserarius Julius walked over and saluted their centurion.

  “The century is ready for your inspection, sir,” Aurelian said.

  Nicanor returned the salute and told the two to stand easy. He turned and said to Gaius, “I’ll take the first rank, you take the second.”