Soldier of Rome- Reign of the Tyrants Read online

  The men looked to each other with expressions of bewilderment and hope. After all they had been through, the emperor was granting them the right to be legionaries. As they would quickly learn, this had nothing to do with honoring promises or out of any sense of compassion for the men.

  “As legionaries,” Italicus continued, “you are subject to the fiercest forms of discipline within the known world. Insubordination and mutiny will not be tolerated. Therefore, while our most noble Caesar has granted you the status of legionaries, so too must he dispense with the harshest of punishments for your actions this day. The Adiutrix Legion is therefore sentenced to decimation.”

  “No!” a voice protested from the ranks.

  All were aghast, where just a moment before they had been filled with feelings of relief. They stood in stunned resignation, unable to do anything except take the lots as they were given to them. That night, with tears in her eyes, Aula Cursia Vale wrote of what she had witnessed:

  The poor unfortunate souls of Legio I, Adiutrix, who had no sooner been named legionaries, and before any had even been given the dignity of swearing the oath of allegiance, were subjected to the most abominable punishment of decimation. One in every ten was segregated from the rest, and placed into a long line, over three hundred and fifty in all. The rest of the legion was given clubs, and with many a wailing of sorrow and anguish, set about the terrible task of bludgeoning their brethren to death. The only mercy the condemned received, was that their grieving executioners tried to expedite their passing. The sound of the clubs breaking skulls will never leave me, nor will the cries of horror from the horrified host of Roman citizens. The bloodied bodies were left where they fell. And with nothing more than a simple wave from the emperor, the new legate, Drusus Benignus, bravely stifled his grief, called his men to attention, and marched them away from the scene of tragedy.

  Galba’s reputation for cruelty has likely spread through the city, and will most certainly make its way into the provinces. In a single afternoon, he has shattered what goodwill there may have been regarding his assumption of power. The people already mutter that they wish for Nero’s return. Such hideous actions have in one instant made Galba universally hated by soldier and citizen alike. And he has yet to even enter the gates of Rome.

  Chapter XIV: Suffering the Usurper

  Bonna, Germania

  Early November 68 A.D.

  ***

  It was nearing the end of October, when the province of Lower Germania received word about their new governor-general. Despite being legate of Legio IV, in neighboring Upper Germania, Caecina Alienus was spending much of his time in Bonna with General Valens. His previous visits confirmed his suspicions, regarding the army’s disposition towards Galba. The legions along the Rhine frontier were growing ever more indignant about having to renew the oath of allegiance to Galba, something which all imperial forces were expected to do every New Year’s Day. The two legates were engaged in a fall boar hunt when this topic inevitably arose.

  “Is Galba so blind he does not realize what he’s done?” Caecina asked, in reference to the merciless decimation of the new Legio I, Adiutrix.

  “If the soldiers didn’t hate him already, they most certainly do now,” Valens added, as they rode beneath several low hanging branches. Most of the trees had lost their foliage by this time, and the landscape appeared gloomy and ever damp from the fall rains.

  “And yet, he expects the entire army to swear allegiance to him, as if nothing happened.” Caecina was flabbergasted by what he could only perceive as Galba’s extreme arrogance.

  “Don’t you feel at least some loyalty towards him?” Valens asked. “After all, he is the one who appointed you to command Fourth Macedonia.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by the mad crashing through a nearby thicket, as a large boar sprinted towards them. The two legates had sent a couple of native scouts ahead to try and flush out any potential game. Their shouts were heard not far from where the beast emerged. Caecina, being the younger and much quicker of the two, managed to bring his spear down between the shoulder blades of the enraged boar. The animal gave a loud shriek as the spear blade pierced its heart. After a few moments of thrashing, it lay still.

  “Loyalty?” Caecina asked, as he dismounted his horse and jerked his spear free. “Not even a little bit. But what can we do?”

  “I happen to personally know the new governor-general that the emperor so unwittingly assigned,” the older legate replied.

  Their servants had just appeared. With a few words in their native tongue, Valens ordered them to dress and clean the boar, and have it brought back to the fortress. He and Caecina then made the long ride back to Bonna alone.

  “So where exactly did Capito meet his unfortunate accident?” Caecina asked, curiosity getting the best of him. When Valens did not reply immediately, he added, “It wasn’t an accident was it?”

  “Fonteius Capito was little more than a politician,” Valens replied. “He cared only for himself and how best to advance his career. His indecisiveness during Vindex’s rebellion showed him to be a useless military leader. Unfortunately, the former governor of your province has this twisted sense of nobility about him. Otherwise we would likely have him as our emperor, instead of the cantankerous old tyrant who now sits upon the throne.”

  “Verginius was loved by the men,” Caecina noted. He realized Valens was not about to answer his question regarding Capito’s death, and so he let the matter drop. “But they now resent him for refusing their offer to make him Caesar.”

  “Which will become even worse, once the legions hear just how despicable a despot Rome now has ruling over her.”

  “You mentioned the new governor, Vitellius,” Caecina said, bringing them back to their original discussion. “How well do you know him?”

  “He’s only a couple of years older than me,” Valens replied. “Yet he gorged himself into old age a long time ago. Gout is the greatest nemesis he faces these days.”

  “So he’s about as useless as our new governor, Flaccus?” Caecina remarked.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” the older legate stated. “Flaccus is a worthless old man who has no control, whatsoever, over his province. Given his age and ill health, I’ll be surprised if he lives to see the end of his term. You’ve been in Upper Germania for what, three months now? And already you wield far greater control than he ever will.”

  “And will we be able to control Vitellius?” Caecina asked.

  Valens raised an eyebrow at the younger legate’s emphasis on ‘we’. “To the ends of the earth,” he asserted. “Just know he is of no use to us if we simply cast him aside, as you did Flaccus. We must mold him, both in mind and spirit, for there is little we can do about his body. I have known Vitellius for many years, and he is not stupid. In fact, he had a lot of potential in his youth. If he puts his mind to it, he can govern quite well. Apathy is his biggest drawback, and that apathy is something we must conceal from the legions. We must make them believe Aulus Vitellius is the most capable governor-general the provinces have ever seen; a rebirth of the divine Julius or Germanicus Caesar!”

  “By your description, he scarcely looks the part,” Caecina said, his brow furrowed in doubt. “Can we really make this work?”

  “Of course we can. And we shall turn the men in the ranks into believers, because we shall make Vitellius a believer.”

  “A believer in what, exactly?” Caecina broke into a grin, as he internally answered his own question. “Of course...let us hope we can make Vitellius believe well before the New Year. Might be a bit awkward, if the legions have no one to swear theirs oaths to.”

  Galba arrived in Rome to much fanfare and celebration, although the mood of the people was darkened considerably by his actions during his trek to the capital. Both Vinius and Laco were well aware of this. They also knew the Ludi Prebeii, or ‘Plebian Games’, was set to commence from 4 to 17 November. A tradition of theatrical spectacle, as well as athletic competit
ion, they had been held at the Circus Flaminius for over two hundred years. With such distractions, the masses would soon forget the turbulence that greeted their new emperor’s arrival.

  It was the day before the games were set to begin that Galba met with his senior advisors and select members of the senate. Though he would meet with the entire senate on occasion, especially as he was set to occupy one of the consul’s chairs during the coming year, most of his governing involved a much smaller circle.

  Ever the strict financier, the emperor’s first order of business was repairing all the damage done by Nero’s excesses and gross overspending of imperial coin.

  “My predecessor spent millions lavishing his personal favorites,” Galba asserted. “While the people went hungry, he held expensive orgies, traipsed about the Greek provinces, and heaped gifts of gold and silver upon any who placated his thirst for pretentious art, spectacle, and flattery. It is time we recoup what was stolen from Rome.”

  “Per your instructions, Caesar,” Icelus said, standing and holding a long scroll in his hands. Since returning to his master the former slave, and now member of the equites, had resumed duties as Galba’s trusted scribe. “We have comprised a list of names, fifty men from the noble order of knights, who will serve as the commission to reclaim the lost treasury. By our best estimates, six hundred million denarii was unlawfully doled out by your predecessor.”

  It was an interesting that no one ever referred to Emperor Nero by his name, but simply as Galba’s predecessor. The senate had stopped short of issuing the fearful damnatio memoriae, which would have purged Nero’s name from official public record, only because of the growing sentimental feelings of the populace towards him. By making him a nameless entity, they minimized the reminders of the man, who though condemned by the senate, had been loved by the plebs.

  And while six hundred million denarii was a gigantic sum, no one in the meeting was surprised. What they were, however, was deeply skeptical that even a fraction of this would ever be recovered. Much of it had, undoubtedly, already been spent. The commission would be hard pressed to prove many of the cases as to whether such gifts were unlawful, or if they had even occurred at all. Still, the emperor had spoken, and now fifty equites would try to act upon his orders.

  “The next issue we have,” Consul Italicus spoke up, “Is what should be done about the former praetorian prefect, Ofonius Tigellinus.”

  “Tigellinus was a monster who personally oversaw the deaths of many of our colleagues,” Galerius added. “If any man has earned the death sentence, it is him.”

  There were numerous mutterings of agreement from almost everyone at the table. Tigellinus was a murderer and martinet who had only abandoned Nero once all hope was lost and, even then, simply to save his own skin. It was he, above all others, who the senate universally wished to exact their vengeance upon. They were, therefore, shocked and in the very least outraged, when Vinius spoke up against this. That he had been selected as Galba’s co-consul for the upcoming year only added to their feelings of indignation.

  “Caesar,” Vinius said. “It is true that Prefect Tigellinus committed a number of questionable tasks for the former emperor. However, he did eventually abandon his charge, and thereby joined you in opposition to him. In fact, I would dare to say that had Tigellinus not marched the duty cohort of the Praetorian Guard away from the palace, there could have been a siege of Rome herself with many more lives lost. He has since removed himself from Rome, and as I understand, spends his days in drunken remorse for his previous actions. I say we should leave him where he belongs, in self-imposed exile.”

  The senators present were deeply angered by this, and even more so that Galba would consider it. After all, he had ordered the death of a former client king and guest of Rome simply for mocking his balding head! Would he really spare such a vile creature as Ofonius Tigellinus? In that moment, the senate came to see just how much power the three pedagogues held over the Emperor of Rome.

  “Since Tigellinus is of no threat anymore, and has sufficiently repented for his crimes, let him stay where he is and rot,” Galba said. “I, too, have heard plenty regarding his drinking and inhaling of mind-numbing substances. All the while, he never leaves his private bath springs and lives in the company of whores. We shall leave him be, though he is prohibited from ever stepping foot in Rome. He’s disgraced himself, and will likely drink himself to death within a year.”

  Though the gathered senators were outraged, Vinius was quick to progress the meeting before any protests could be made. Many rightly suspected that Tigellinus had paid the consul-elect a rather handsome bribe, if he could compel Galba to spare his life. It was Cornelius Laco who brought the next matter forward.

  “Our next item, Caesar, is the disposition of military forces in and around Rome. Between Seventh Gemina and First Adiutrix, we now have two legions within the imperial capital. Normally we don’t have so much as a single legion within the city, as their place is on the frontiers. However, I recommend we leave one here for the time being, while sending the other to Carnuntum in Pannonia.”

  “The Danube is the most volatile of our frontiers, outside of the Rhine,” Galerius added. “We have plenty of legions guarding against Germanic barbarians, but another legion in Pannonia would be well-placed.”

  “Seventh Gemina is made up of new recruits,” Galba remarked. “I feel they could more easily be corrupted by living within the confines of Rome. Therefore they shall be dispatched to Pannonia. They will need a new commanding legate, preferably someone already in the east, who is of no threat or concern to us.”

  Vinius whispered into his ear, bringing an extremely rare chuckle from the emperor.

  “Of course,” Galba said, with a nod of appreciation. “He’s been exiled from Rome these past six years. I think it will be rather enjoyable to recall him back to the city, so I may grant him this appointment personally.”

  No one besides Vinius, and perhaps Laco, knew to whom the emperor was referring. None dared to ask. It may have seemed strange, sending the Seventh to the Danube where they would have to fend for themselves in regards to acquiring arms and equipment. First Adiutrix, on the other hand, was to remain in Rome, where there were plenty of armorers to properly equip them. Galba’s logic at leaving them in the imperial capital was two-fold. Firstly, he felt he had sufficiently cowed them into docile obedience, and there would be levies more readily available to fill their numerous vacancies. The second reason was, as former mariners who had already been in the imperial service, they were naturally better disciplined and less susceptible to the various sins of the capital. It was also becoming readily apparent that Drusus Benignus had been the most suitable candidate to lead this new legion. A strict disciplinarian and accomplished drillmaster in his own right, within just a few short weeks, he had his newly organized cohorts conducting complex drill and battle formations.

  There were a few other changes and appointments made, which included the replacing of the legate of Legio I, Italica, in Lugdunum with one Manlius Valens. Another political nobody, he was in fact the cousin of Fabius Valens. Unknown to Galba, his private contempt for the emperor rivaled that of his kinsman. There was also the discussion of Aulus Vitellius, whom Galba had ordered to Lower Germania before his arrival in Rome.

  “You’ve made some interesting choices, Caesar,” Icelus noted. “I cannot help but wonder as to why you chose Vitellius to govern Lower Germania?”

  “He is an interesting choice, sire,” Vinius concurred. “As I understand it, he is so badly in debt, his creditors were hounding him all the way out of the city. And, if rumor is to be believed, he’s been forced to lease his estate, while placing his wife and son in a small apartment, just to finance his journey.”

  “Vitellius is capable enough not to lose Germania to the barbarians,” Galba explained. He then showed a very rare smile. “And besides, there is no one to be less afraid of, than a man whose sole thought is on the consumption of food. Germania is a rich prov
ince, and he can feast on its resources.”

  This brought some appreciative chuckles from the assembled magistrates and senators. Galba may not have been stricken by the same level of paranoia as Nero; however, he was certainly being extremely cautious in regards to who he would trust. He was leery towards those with too much power and charisma, and after he dismissed his council, his face turned into a deep scowl. There was one man, who possessed both charisma and power, he needed to deal with that day.

  Aulus Vitellius was, indeed, a baffling choice for governor-general of Lower Germania. The rather rotund old senator was more surprised than any at his selection. His father, Lucius Vitellius, had been a powerful member of the senate, having served as governor of Syria during the reigns of Tiberius and Caligula. Three times he had served as consul, and he was acting regent in Rome for the short time in which Emperor Claudius was away, during the Invasion of Britannia. Upon his death, following a bout of paralysis, Claudius had a statue erected in his honor inscribed with the phrase, ‘Steadfast loyal to the Emperor’.

  Such a legacy left his sons with much to live up to. And while the younger Vitellius had been awarded the consulship three years before the death of his father, and later served as Proconsul of North Africa during the early part of Nero’s reign, he could not help but feel he had somehow been a disappointment to his father. His younger brother, Lucius Vitellius, had had only a marginally more successful career, yet his rapport with their parents was far more amicable. Perhaps it was because Aulus was known for his ravenous appetites, prone to obesity, and plagued by lifestyle-induced ailments such as gout at an early age. While Lucius was still relatively fit, at least as much as any man in his early fifties, Aulus walked with a cane and could only ride a horse if he had several assistants helping him mount and dismount. It was this particular ailment that his mother, Sextilia, called attention to, when her son came to visit her prior to his departure for Germania.