Soldier of Rome- Reign of the Tyrants Read online

  “I was also nowhere near the capital when the conspiracy broke,” Trajan noted. “No one even gave my wife a second thought. You, on the other hand, were in Rome and at the heart of it all. Marcia may have never forgiven you for divorcing her sister and taking her daughter away, but I understood. And though I will never tell this to my wife, were our roles reversed, you and I, I would have done the same.”

  “To be honest,” Titus replied, “as dangerous as it has become, I rather enjoy the game of imperial political intrigue. I know that may sound strange. I also have greater respect for our enemies here in Judea, than our rivals in Rome, for at least the Jews make their ill intentions known. And yet, there is a certain amount of satisfaction to be had when one can outwit political foes who would profess their friendship openly, all the while waiting to stab us in the back.”

  “Both literally and figuratively,” his father chuckled.

  “I admit, I was rather impressed with how you handled Mucianus,” Trajan said, referring to the Governor of Syria, whose political power Vespasian was only able to match due to his temporary status as commander-in-chief. He then nodded to Vespasian. “The animosity that existed between you two was no secret. Strangely enough, I would hazard to guess that Mucianus is now one of our strongest allies, both militarily and politically.”

  “The Governor of Syria may be an arrogant despot and boy-lover,” Vespasian remarked. “But he was wise enough to recognize, though he and I loathed each other personally, it was no reason for us not to align ourselves. Titus was able to make him see that.”

  “I hope you didn’t have to go to bed with him first,” Trajan said to Titus with a chuckle, as he sipped his wine.

  “There are many who have used sex as a weapon,” the young legate replied, turning a fig over in his hand. “But for those that do, the power is fleeting, and one is left extremely vulnerable in its aftermath. Don’t believe me? Just look at Queen Cleopatra, the last of the pharaohs, who was once absolute ruler of Egypt. She seduced Julius Caesar, and she later blinded Marc Antony with her charms, turning him into a traitor. Yet her vision was shortsighted, and she displayed little strategic savvy. In the end, her vacuous twat failed to serve her. Instead, it brought about the end of the Ptolemaic Dynasty and led to Egypt’s conquest by Rome.”

  With their army static until the early spring, when the roads dried, there was little else for the senior officers in Vespasian’s army to do, except discuss the political intrigues within the imperial capital. Though many of their remarks were light-hearted, the commander-in-chief was often leery of any talk, no matter how humorous, that could potentially lead to yet another falling out with the imperial house. Unbeknownst to any of them, events thousands of miles to the west would soon take the emperor’s attention away from Judea completely.

  It was mid-February when Fonteius Capito arrived in Mogontiacum to meet with Governor Verginius, prior to completing his journey to his own capital at Cologne. As the roads through the Alpes were often treacherous and impassible during the winter months, Capito had taken a lengthy detour east, skirting along the edge of Pannonia. This had doubled the length of his already tedious journey. It had also rained almost every day since he passed the remote military outpost known as Castra Regina, more than two hundred miles southeast of Mogontiacum. As such, the governor for Lower Germania was in a foul temper when he was greeted by his peer on the Rhine.

  “Ah, Governor Capito, welcome!” Verginius said, as the drenched legate was escorted into his principia with the Fourth Legion.

  “A ghastly time to be on the roads,” Capito grumbled.

  “Yes, well you can stay in my quarters for the night, though I know you must be anxious to be on your way.” While the governor’s palace was far larger and more comfortable, Capito could not help but wonder if Verginius’ meeting him at the more austere legion fortress was a deliberate ploy to irritate him.

  “I’ll come straight to the point,” he said, as a slave took his drenched cloak, and two more helped him out of his armor. “I came with all haste once we received your message. Or rather, the message you forwarded from our misguided peer in Gaul. What more have you learned over the past six weeks since you sent your dispatch?”

  “Nothing,” Verginius shrugged. “My assets are delegated to keeping those damned barbarians across the Rhine from invading our borders. At this time, I can only wait for a response from Vindex. I sent him a reply, asking that he clarify, in detail, his intentions.”

  “So you have no eyes at all in Gaul?” Capito asked, exacerbated. “Damn it, man, Vindex could have raised the entire province in rebellion by now!”

  “Oh, calm yourself already,” Verginius replied, offering him a cup of wine from a servant’s tray. “It’s been eight weeks since Vindex first sent his messages out. Unless he has the charisma of either Caesar or Vercingetorix, I doubt that he’s managed to raise up more than a handful of fanatics. And besides, I sent one of my staff tribunes with my reply to him. I was evasive in my answer so Vindex does not panic and fail to respond to me.”

  Capito’s eyes narrowed as he downed his wine. “You should have damned him outright for his treason,” he said.

  What he did not say, was that he wondered if perhaps his colleague was waiting to see just how much support Vindex was able to muster, before deciding which side he would choose. Just a few years prior, this would have been unthinkable. Since the rise of Augustus, Rome’s generals had always been selected from the best and most loyal members of the patrician class. Sadly, during the last thirteen years of Nero’s reign, the current emperor’s paranoia had compelled the most promising members of Rome’s ruling class to avoid the very postings they once fought hardest to attain. Men who were unimaginative, as well as lacking in ambition, were selected for the prestigious governorships, simply because Nero viewed them as nonthreatening. Ability, wealth, and influence were all viewed contemptuously, especially after the Piso affair.

  With an alarming number of senators, and even a few wealthier equites forced to commit suicide during Nero’s recent reign of terror, that same paranoia now gripped every governor and legate within the provinces. Capito suspected that Verginius’ dismissive tone towards him had less to do with the rivalry between their provinces, and more to do with neither man knowing where the other’s loyalties truly lay.

  Capito had only been away from the Rhine for a little over a year, yet he knew the men who commanded the imperial legions on the frontier. There was one in particular, Fabius Valens, who as far as Capito knew, still commanded Legio I, Germanica. He held immense sway with his peers, as well as the men in the ranks. Capito could not help but wonder if perhaps it was Valens, and not Verginius, he needed to concern himself with most.

  Chapter IV: No Turning Back

  Vienne, Gaul

  Late February 68 A.D.

  ***

  In the weeks since sending his dispatches throughout the western empire, with a number of governors and legates now questioning the loyalties of their peers, Julius Vindex had had time to mull over the responses, or rather the lack thereof, received from the neighboring provinces. Word of his proposed rebellion had spread quickly, and he was certain the news had already traveled as far as Rome. Vindex further assumed that every provincial governor had forwarded the treasonous letters to Rome, as a means to protect themselves politically, should the rebellion fail. The only exception, of which Vindex was oblivious, was Servius Galba in Hispania. The immediate question was how much popular support the uprising could attain, particularly in the Gallic provinces?

  Whatever came next, Vindex knew well the risks, and understood that at this point there was no turning back. He had, therefore, summoned from within Gallia Lugdunensis tribal leaders, city governors and magistrates, military commanders, any and all who were willing to stand against tyranny. The last group were especially crucial. The province had no legions, and Vindex knew he needed support from either legionary detachments or auxilia units garrisoned in his cities, in o
rder to give his uprising a sense of legitimacy. Thus far, only a few of the city governors, along with some of the elders from the old tribal nobilities, had heeded his call.

  “More will come,” Vindex asserted to his war council. “Once they see that we mean to dispose of the tyranny of Nero, they will see the people rise.”

  They were assembled in what had once been an old meeting hall for the ancient war chiefs, which had long since fallen into disuse. With the cold and rain making for a miserable climate, this was the only indoor venue that was large enough to suit Vindex’s purposes. And while most of those present were from the old tribal factions, their appearance was a far cry from when their ancestors fought and died beside Vercingetorix. Most of these men had their hair cropped short and were clean-shaven. Their dress was a mix of Roman togas and more climate friendly tunics and breeches.

  “The very real issue, should we be successful, is who do we replace Nero with?” Bradan asked. Having been one of Vindex’s earliest confidants, he was the first to declare for the cause. “He has no sons, and there are no other members left within the imperial family. The Julian line ended when all three of Augustus’ grandsons died childless. And if we look to the Claudian line, Tiberius’ only grandson was executed by Gaius Caligula. Rubellius Plautus was the son of Tiberius’ granddaughter, Julia, yet neither he nor any of his children survived Nero’s purges over the last few years. That leaves the descendants of Emperor Claudius, who have all been eradicated by our current emperor. Nero murdered his stepbrother, Britannicus...and yes, it was murder. He executed his own wife and Claudius’ daughter, Octavia, for treason. And when Claudius’ final daughter, Antonia, refused Nero’s advances, he accused her of treachery and had her disposed of.”

  “When not battling the rest of the world, the Julio-Claudians excelled at fighting each other,” a Sequani nobleman added with disdain. “They’ve driven themselves to extinction, and I say good riddance!”

  “That may be,” Vindex concurred. “However, many of the people still have a sentimental attachment to the imperial family. Deciding upon a replacement for Nero is tricky. It cannot be me, let us make that quite clear. I am not risking my life in the hopes that I should seize the imperial throne. Given my non-Latin origins, and the fact that I am only a first generation senator, the people would view me as a foreign usurper. What we need is someone from among our allies, or potential allies, who is of the old families.”

  “Then who?”

  Vindex produced a scroll.

  “This was given to me only just this morning from our long-anticipated potential ally, Servius Sulpicius Galba. He states that we should proceed however we see fit, and when the time is right, the armies in Tarraconensis will act accordingly.”

  “Does that mean he wishes to join us or is it a threat?”

  “If it were a threat, he would have said his forces were on the march, and that if we continued down this path, he would smash us into oblivion,” Vindex conjectured. “No, Galba is not threatening us. I interpret his response as his implicit sanctioning of our endeavor. And of course he speaks cryptically, lest the message fall into the wrong hands. I also have received word that Marcus Salvius Otho, the governor of Lusitania, intends to follow whatever course Galba chooses.”

  “That is hopeful news,” Bradan said. “There are no legionary detachments within this province, and we have heard nothing from the handful of auxilia regiments scattered across the region. Galba has no legions, but he has plenty of auxiliary infantry and cavalry and, I daresay, he has the resources to raise his own legion, should he wish.”

  “And if we gather enough support, what then?” another old chieftain asked skeptically. “I look around, and I only see a few city magistrates and old warlords. Galba’s cryptic letter is meaningless, especially when the most powerful force within the entire imperial army is but two weeks’ march from here.”

  “Seven legions are posted all along the Rhine,” another man added. “They are highly trained, heavily armed, and all experienced fighters. I think we need not concern ourselves with that old man, Galba, and instead worry about what those thirty-five thousand legionaries will do.”

  Vindex nodded in agreement, for he had contemplated the dilemma of the Rhine army ever since he first considered taking a stand against Emperor Nero. They were not only a fearsome fighting force, but they were also in the immediate neighborhood of the Gallic provinces. It was they who had rolled right over the armies of Sacrovir and Florus within a matter of weeks.

  “Germania, as you know, is divided into two provinces,” Vindex said. “But it is the governor of Upper Germania, Verginius Rufus, who commands the real power in the region. Fonteius Capito has only recently been given the governorship of Lower Germania. He is one of Nero’s courtiers, but he will be powerless to act without Verginius. I also have it on good authority that the two Germanic governors are not exactly on friendly terms. And while the legions have an amicable enough rapport with Capito, they love Verginius. I have met him on a few occasions, and he is rather unassuming, but a capable general whose soldiers are extremely loyal to him.”

  “Then we may want to forget about Galba, and instead offer the throne to Verginius,” Bradan reasoned.

  “If he’ll accept it,” Vindex stated. “I met with one of his tribunes yesterday morning. He was asking a lot of questions from the governor. There was no malice or threat, and I believe that if Verginius were completely committed to Nero, he would have threatened us, rather than asked questions. But we must be firm in our resolve, and let all bear witness that it was here, in Gaul, that the freedom from Nero’s tyranny was born.”

  The province of Upper Germania was located to the northeast of Gallia Lugdunensis. Its capital of Mogontiacum lay approximately four hundred miles from Vienne, a distance that marching legionaries could cover in roughly two weeks. The governor-general, Lucius Verginius Rufus, was now fifty-two years of age and had been elected consul four years prior. After an uneventful term, Emperor Nero had granted him the governorship. Like most provincial governors during this time, he was of humbler origins and a political nobody. He was competent enough that the emperor and senate felt confident he could keep the rampaging mobs of barbarians contained east of the River Rhine. At the same time, he lacked the nobility of birth, as well as any sort of ambition, to ever be perceived as a threat to Nero.

  Because the Germanic frontier along the Rhine was among the more volatile within the empire, both provinces wielded substantial military power. Within his province, Verginius commanded three legions. Legio XXII, Primigenia Fortuna, also known as ‘Fortuna’s Legion’, along with his own Legio IV, Macedonia, were both posted to the fortress near the capital city of Mogontiacum. Approximately two hundred and fifty miles to the south, at the city Vindonissa near the base of the Alpes, was stationed Legio XXI, Rapax, also called ‘The Predator Legion’.

  The recent unrest in neighboring Gaul was unsettling to him. As his army was by far the largest, as well as the closest to the troubled province, he knew that responsibility for putting down any uprising would fall upon him. He was also very pragmatic and knew he needed more actionable intelligence, before he uprooted the Rhine legions from their fortresses and sent them rampaging into Gaul. But rather than sending just scouts into the neighboring province, he dispatched one of his military tribunes as an emissary to Julius Vindex. If Vindex wished to court him as a possible ally, then he would most likely be very open with his strategic intent.

  Fonteius Capito had left Mogontiacum within a day of his arrival, all the while urging Verginius to make ready to march at once. As Capito was one of Nero’s favorites, as well as just coming off a full term as consul, it vexed him to no end that he could not simply order Verginius and his legions to follow him into battle. That his colleague was even keeled and level-headed in his speech only aggravated him even more so. But what Capito failed to understand was that Verginius was being neither lazy nor careless in his strategy. Rather, he was gathering as much in
formation as possible, while gauging Vindex’s intentions, as well as his potential military strength, before acting. That intelligence he needed would be arriving soon, with a lone tribune who rode through the wind and rain from Gaul.

  There was a definite chill in the air, even at midday, as the young tribune approached the city of Mogontiacum. The four hundred mile journey from Lugdunum had taken him a little over a week. The rains during the first four days had been hellish. The young man had been hardly able to see, being constantly pelted in the face as he rode through the downpour. And though the sun came out afterwards, the early spring afternoon warming the air, it seemed as if it took another five days for his cloak and tunic to dry. He feared his armor might end up with rust pits. His nose, now constantly dripping, was accompanied by a persistent cough. And yet, he could not have been more content.

  His name was Lucius Artorius Magnus. Twenty-seven years of age, he came from a line of distinguished soldiers, though before him, all had come from the plebian ranks. His father and grandfather had both retired as senior-ranking centurions, earning the family membership into the equites. Following his father, Metellus’ retirement from the legions, the family had just enough fortune and political clout to secure Lucius on the career path of Rome’s lesser-noble class. His younger brother, Gaius, had been compelled to make his own way, and he joined the legions as a common soldier.

  “And some days I think he was the lucky one,” Lucius reminisced aloud, as he pulled his cloak around him.

  During the six weeks he’d been away from the fortress, all he’d had time to do was ruminate. He preferred it that way. General Verginius had offered to send a section of cavalrymen with him. The tribune declined, stating that for his mission it was best to be as inconspicuous as possible. This had been an absurd argument, however, as there had been nothing remotely covert about his tasking. He was simply to ascertain what he could about the motives of Julius Vindex, while being noncommittal regarding the position of the Rhine Army. Knowing that Lucius preferred solitude, Verginius allowed him to travel to Lugdunum alone.