defender of rome - douglas jackson

8/10/2019 Defender of Rome - Douglas Jackson

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DEFENDER OF ROME

Douglas Jackson


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For Bill Jackson19292010


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I

Rome,AD63

Y CAME AThim in waves over the crushed summerss, tall and lean, bred to war, their spear points

ering in the low morning sunlight and the sound ofr coming like thunder. And, as they came, he slew

m.He had been born for this: to bring death. His mind

loded with the savage, atavistic joy of the warrior

the point of the gladius, with the power of hisong right arm behind it, took out throats and spilleds, each stroke confirmed by the haze of scarlet that

he only true signature of battle.One by one he watched them die and he counted

victims by the names of the Romans he avenged.Lunaris. For Paulus. For Messor. For Falco.

or Valerius.The next stroke faltered and the battle froze around

, the screams of the dying trapped like flies in ab; spears caught at the very moment of the plunge;

angled enemies balanced precariously on theor edge between life and death. No, not Valerius.

us Valerius Verrens lives. I am Gaius Valeriusrrens. The words echoed in his head and hendered if he had joined the gods in their Elysianness. That was when he felt her presence. A flare

ame-tipped auburn at the very edge of his vision.rcing green eyes that drilled into his soul.

udicca. His enemy. At her unspoken commandtle resumed. The spears fell. Men lived or died. But

w the tempo had changed. Always, in the past, his

been the speed, his had been the vision. Othern had been too slow or too blind. Other men had

d. Now it was different.Caught in a trap of his own making, Valerius moved

h the leaden torpor of a man forcing his wayough a chest-deep lake. The sword was a dead

ght in his hand and he struggled to keep the bigve-edged shield high. The blades of his enemies

hed and darted, a blizzard of bright iron thatght the weak points in his armour and the soft

h of his throat, and he was helpless against them.e sting of edged metal made him scream intration and pain and for the first time he knew the

pair of the vanquished. He called upon his gods,knew they had already forsaken him.

Valerius?


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A womans hand held the sword that killed him.Valerius!

He opened his eyes. Fabia?You were dreaming. You cried out.

took a moment to resolve the familiar sights andnts of the bedroom with what had gone before. His

y trembled with nervous energy and the sheetssted beneath him were damp with sweat. It had not

en like that at all. He had stood back like a coward,of from the battle, a new-made cripple. Men had

d, in their thousands and their tens of thousands,he had not killed a single one. Fabia leaned over, golden and beautiful and safe, and placed a cool

d on his brow. Eyes the colour and complexity ofshed sapphire filled with concern, and something

re than concern. A pinprick of guilt speared him he instinctively reached for the pendant at his

oat. It was a tiny golden boar, the symbol of theentieth legion.

You must have loved her very much. It was aement, not a question.

killed her. It wasnt true. He had betrayed Maeve,the sword that had taken her life in Boudiccas lasttle had been another mans.

abia bent to kiss the mottled stump of his rightm, her breasts brushing lightly against his stomach.e loss of his hand had been the price of life. Each

y he awoke surprised it was no longer there. Eachhe endured a pain for which there was no cure. It

s his burden and he would carry it for ever. Like hist.

He lay back and stared at the painted ceiling.mp, cheerful nymphs hunted deer and antelope

oss lush grassland as the goddess Diana lookedapprovingly. Fabia sighed and settled half across

, her body supple and soft against his angulardness. He was three weeks from his twenty-sixth

hday and it had been almost two years since heurned from a Britain bled dry by Romesgeance to be acclaimed Hero of Rome; the

rona Aurea placed upon his brow by Emperoro himself. The honour had brought him fame,

ch he neither wanted nor deserved, and Nerosour, which time had taught him was a fickle thing

not to be relied upon.At first, the young Emperor had delighted in having

man close to his own age a champion of war se by his side. Valerius must attend court each day

he gilded palace on the Palatine Hill to decorateros assemblies and delight him with his tales of

tle and comradeship and sacrifice. Of course hes flattered: what soldier, even a soldier as

maged as he, would not be? Great men, consuls generals, bowed to him amongst the marbledars and painted statues, beautiful women sought

out and ushered him to shadowy corners where


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y whispered of unlikely possibilities and even more

kely certainties. And all the time, he felt theperors hard little over-bright eyes following his

ry move and growing ever hotter. He wasnt a fool.had heard the stories. In the legion he had lived

h men, good men and bad, and knew that everyns taste did not follow natural lines and that some

n knew no boundaries at all. As a boy he hadwn love, or something he had believed was love,

what was acceptable between boys did not have

be right between men. Before the offer was madeet it be known that it would be refused.

To avoid the storm which would inevitably follow he spent a year living in Greece, hoping to be

gotten. The self-imposed exile gave him theportunity to resume his philosophical studies under

great Apollonius, who had halted his wanderingsa time in Athens. But when he returned his name

s still on some courtiers list. He continued to beted to the Palatine. He was watched. But now the

ching was different. Dangerous. Previously, whenhad praised the tactics of Britains governor his

ience had cried out in agreement. Now hiseners turned away with shakes of the head,

ttering words like despot and butcher. Paulinus gone too far, they said, he had despoiled thevince when he should have revitalized it. Paulinus

s to be recalled. Now when men stood at hisulder he understood they were not listening, but

morizing and recording for the time when A slim finger trailed through the cooling sweat that

pooled in the hollow of his chest. We shouldhe.

Valerius dashed the melancholy from his head andled at her as she uncoiled herself from his body

led the way to the little bathhouse. When they had

oyed the mixed pleasures of the caldarium andidarium, Fabia wrapped herself in a sheet andered him to a polished stone table where she

d his body with practised hands, easing eachscle of his shoulders, back and legs, then turning

over to do the same to chest and stomach. As herng fingers fluttered over him he felt the hot blood

desire rising again. Before he could act on it shepped the sheet and swung herself up to settle overin a single movement. The intensity of her heat

de him gasp.suppose this means youll cost me more, he

mbled, attempting to think of anything but what wasppening below his waist.

Oh no, Valerius. Fabias voice was the texture ofw silk drawn across rough wood. This is my gift to

self. Stay just the way you are.Much later, she saw him to the door and raised her

to allow a decorous farewell kiss. Fabia Faustina,h class courtesan friend of the Em ress Po aea


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gusta Sabina, and probably the most beautifulman in Rome. Strange that she should love him

en she knew he could never return it.And what do the courts promise today? Are you

ence or prosecution or both? she asked lightly.Neither. Valerius allowed himself a sad smile. I

st be with Olivia.abia stared at him, but her thoughts remained

cealed in the blue-gold depths of her eyes. TellI send my prayers.

ere Fabias beauty glowed like an imperial park in

blossom, Olivias was more ethereal: an Alpinewfield touched only by the wind, or a sculpture of

in marble before the artist applied the first brush ofnt. Valerius stared down at his sister as she lay in

house on the Clivus Scauri. Regal and pale as anyptian princess, her long, almost raven hair framed

face, each strand placed precisely by her maid,a. His sister had the sculpted features so admiredhe family, but more delicate than in the male line. A

m aristocratic nose, a long, curving jawline thatected resolve and strength of purpose, and a

uth that, before her illness, had always seemeddy to smile. In fact, as he studied her, he realized

had changed even in the short time since he hadseen her, and he replaced the word delicate with

gile.She is wasting away. He tried to keep the

usation from his voice.The fastidiously dressed man at his side stirred

omfortably. We are doing everything we can. Theving girl administers the daily draught as she hasen instructed. She bathes her mistress only with

rm water and serves thin soup three times a day.More is spilled than eaten, Valerius pointed out.

Metellus, the physician, frowned, making hisdulous jowls quiver, and the watery eyes

rowed. We can only force so much upon her or itdo more harm than good. She is thin but not yet

letal. With the gods will there is still hope. Youe sacrificed to Asclepius as I advised?

Valeriuss faith in the gods had been sorely testedthe two days he had spent in the Temple of

udius waiting to be torn limb from limb by vengefulsh warriors. The fact that he had survived had

e nothing to restore it, but he would do anythingt might help Olivia. I visited the hospital on theer island this morning and the priest dedicated a

te ram to the god. The doctor nodded, impressed.white ram was no mere token. He wondered if his

was quite sufficient. Valerius continued: The

d, Julia, has also carried a sacrifice to the Goodddess.Again, this was only sensible. Bona Dea, the

dess of women, healing and fertility, could be


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nted on to intercede on Olivias behalf from herple on the Aventine Hill.

Then you also are doing everything you can. Heitated. Perhaps if your father ?

Valerius shook his head. He wont come here. Hent have to say more. His father Lucius had staked

r familys future on a match between Olivia and anecently rich but very elderly second cousin of the

peror. Olivia had taken one look at the balding,nkled figure of her betrothed, a man blessed with a

gle blackened tooth, and vowed to cut her wristsre and then. Luciuss reputation had suffered morem the fact that he had capitulated to her threat than

t shed rejected Calpurnius Ahenobarbus. Underlaw, he would have been entitled to sell Olivia into

very or even kill her, but for all his stuffy patricianmposity he had always been a loving father and

chosen disgrace rather than cause more distresshis daughter. Since the scandal he had locked

self away on the family estate at Fidenae andoted himself to his grapes and his olive trees.

erius had contacted him three times with the newst she was sick, but on each occasion hisssenger had been turned away. The physicians

o treated her speculated that the gods were takingr revenge for Olivias lack of filial devotion, but

erius dismissed the theory as a desperate attemptustify their failure. He suspected that Metellus, a

l-meaning drunkard who claimed to have studiedSmyrna and Alexandria, had now joined their

mber.

As he watched, Olivias eyes opened, shale dark,id and slightly bemused. Recognition came slowly,when she was certain of his identity her pale lips

ted in a faint smile and before the eyes closedain her hand fluttered towards his. He sat on the

and took it; it was cool and almost weightless.

via sighed lightly and he felt her fingers tighten. Itbe like this when she dies, he thought, this

pless emptiness. I will sit here and her hand willw cold and the room will grow dark and I will beg

to stay, but her spirit will fly from her as I have

n it fly from so many dying men. He began talking,hope and love and the future, knowing she heard

but not whether she understood. And as he talked

mind drifted back to a time when a skinny girl withdirty face and a torn tunic dogged his every

tstep, forever asking foolish questions he couldnt

swer. Why? And How? And What? Everlastings by the narrow, tree-lined river that provided

er for the estate, hunting little green frogs amongweeds and plastering each other with slimy,

ckled spawn. Other days spent chasing elusivewn songbirds among the vines in the certainwledge that they would flutter to the next row and

chase would be up again. The bitter taste of


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pe grapes and the awfulness that inevitably

owed. Watching each other grow.And the day that caused him to wonder what kind of

n he truly was. When his patience finally snapped, encouraged by the slave boys, he had locked her

he cellar below the house and walked away. Heuld never forget the look in her eyes when he

urned an hour later to find her frozen in thekness. Or the note of accusation in the whispered

ds voice. Please never leave me alone again,

erius.He squeezed her hand and stood up.

will do anything to make her well. He knew theds alone meant nothing. He might have been

ing to himself. He might have been talking to thes he no longer believed in. Instead, he found he

s addressing the fat physician whose presence he entirely forgotten.

Metellus felt a thrill of panic at the certainty ineriuss voice; the tall, commanding presence and

hard eyes that pinned him like a legionary javelin.had done all he could, truly he had. He raced

ough the remedies in his mind as if he was arguinghis life. The herbs mixed in warm leaded wine to

l the fever. Wolfsbane in minute doses to stimulateblood. Extract of hemp to calm. The regime?

emplary. Each step taken with a physicians care

forethought. Was there anything more? No. TwiceExcept

There may be a man Where can I find him?


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II

ME WAS CHANGING. Nero had vowed to turn the citythe kind of modern metropolis befitting the capital

an Empire which ruled over forty million people. If aeet fell into terminal disrepair or an urban slum

ned, he had dictated that it be rebuilt around anen square, allowing space and freedom and light

the residents, and providing a barrier against thes that could spread with such lightning rapidity

ough the citys fourteen districts. In doing so heowed the lead of his uncle, Caligula, but where

igula had forced the residents to pay for therovements from their own pockets, the young

peror increased his popularity by accepting theden himself. Unfortunately for Valerius, some of therst areas of the city remained untouched.

He held the torch high as he studied the narrow,d street ahead. From an alleyway to his left came

sounds of raucous, humourless laughter andeams that might be ecstasy or terror. I should have

d a bodyguard, he thought, and cursed as heod in something which could have been animal or

etable, but was undoubtedly obscenely soft andnk like a week-old corpse. Why must it always be

Subura? Romes cesspit. Apartment blocks six seven storeys high towered like cliffs above him,

oky oil lamps glowing in windows that held, at best,threat of the contents of a night soil pot, if not theitself. Twin wagon ruts doubled as an open sewer,

contents reeking in trapped heat that barelyled from one day to the next. Every step was an

tation to fall into a trap and every darkenedrance a potential ambush.

Still, hed had no choice but to wait for Julias return

if hed tried to recruit some battered ex-gladiatoretired legionary from a tavern, the likelihood washed only be paying for the dagger that tickled his

r or slit his throat. Left or right? He ran theysicians directions through his head as he

sidered the junction of two identical passageways.ad seemed much simpler in the comfort of the

as atrium. Just follow the old Via Subura until you

ch the Via Tiburtina and carry on until youre adred paces from the Esquiline Gate. He has

ms in the insula on the right. Ground floor. In

light Valerius would have had to fight his wayough a surging mass of people, at risk from nothing

re than carelessly wielded chair poles or bony


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ows, jostled and hustled, melting in the heat, buter directly threatened. Now he was trapped in a

h dark, verminous labyrinth where every streetpeared the same and the only consolation was that

hour was so late the few inhabitants hed comeoss had been rolling drunk.

He turned sharply at a rustling sound, the handeath his cloak reaching instinctively for his sword.

e rustling stopped, to be replaced by a low whine, he laughed at himself. Gaius Valerius Verrens,

o of Rome, the man who had held the Temple ofudius to the last man, scared of a scavengingnd.

eft or right?Right.

He had pleaded to stay in the legions, even thoughknew his injury meant he would never again fight in

attle line. No, his father had said, this is our greatportunity: the law, then the Senate; make the name

erius ring through the marble halls of the Palatine.d obeyed, out of duty: the same sense of duty that

made him the soldier he had once been. And he prospered thanks to the patronage that the

rona Aurea attracted. Every retired veteran, be he

eral or legionary of the third rank, wanted to beresented by Gaius Valerius Verrens. As with his

tles, he won more cases than he lost, because hek a professional care in his preparations and

ght hard for his clients, even when he didnt believeord they told him.

The street widened and he saw a pale light ahead.

me sort of open space.He is a medical man just arrived from the east,tellus had said. Some say he is a worker of

nders and some say he deals in perfumed smoke polished mirrors. A Judaean, he works amongpeople, seeking no profit. He does not advertise

services. You will have to be very persuasive.at does he look like? How should I know?

The light came from a noisome drinking den behindopen yard with a stone fountain carved in the

pe of a fish. Valerius hurried by, trying to look like

another drunk. But the eyes that watched himre the eyes of predators, not those of ordinary men.

man might survive in Subura without being part of ag, paying a gang or owning a gang, but his hold

life, and his familys, would be precarious. Red-red Culleo, bastard son of only Jupiter knew whom,

been running with gangs for as long as he couldmember. First as a lookout while others stole, then

a thief, learning to steal bread and fruit and meatm the streetside stalls while the younger boys

racted the owners. With growing strength cameater opportunity and he had become an enforcer.had killed his first man by the time he was fifteen


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cut the throat of his predecessor three years later.favoured the knife, and he carried two: wickedly

ved, long-bladed weapons that he fondly keptng sharp and which were equally good for

bbing or slicing. Culleo was short and wide, but hisd disguised his speed, which was usually enough

frighten other men into dying quietly. Unless ason had to be taught he preferred to attack from

ind because it was quicker and simpler. Inbura, or at least in the streets around the Silver

let, he was the wolf and any man who didnt belongs his prey.The torch Valerius carried attracted Culleo like a

th to the flame. Why would a drunk carry a torchen he could bounce home off the walls he knew as

mately as his mothers left tit? Once they hadtted him he was theirs. A tall man, though he

uched and tried to hide it, dressed in an expensiveak. A fool then. Any cloak waved about the Subura

s asking to be stolen and a man with a cloak woulde other things worth stealing, even if it was only his

hes and his shoes. There was something else, From a dozen paces away Culleos sharp eyes noted the little details another mans might not:

way the fool carried himself, the slight favouring ofright side, and the strong jaw and sharp planes of

face. The description could have fitted twentyer men apart from one important detail that could

ily be hidden beneath the cloak, but Culleo hadsed. Word had been passed down to him from the

sible network that all the gangs knew to obey.

en the wolf must give up a proportion of his kill tohungry tiger. Culleo knew that if you were to

vive in the Subura they were to be answered to

ove all others. He smiled, revealing a carnage ofng teeth; someone wanted this man dead and

s willing to pay handsomely for it.

He studied his victims speed and direction,wing the cloaked man would increase his pace

e he was past the open courtyard. Who wouldk slowly through the Subura at night? Iugolo?

us? He called two of his men from the tavern, one

er and massive, with a single eye and a red,eping socket, and the other wiry, deceptivelyish and, even for the Subura, remarkably dirty.

ke the back road by the tannery and cut him offore Tiburtina. If were quick we can catch him at

Alley of the Poxed Tart. Dont move until I get thereh the Greek. Four against one: was it enough? He

ld gather more men but it would take time to rousem from their beds and sober them up. By then theget might be gone. It was enough. The mark was a

. A sheep to be shorn. No, he grinned to himself, ab to be slaughtered.

erius moved fast after he passed the inn, but his


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fourth robber, a confident red-haired bruisermed with a curving blade that slashed at the

mans throat. Valerius brought up his right hand tock the sweeping blow and was rewarded by a

zled glare as the blade bit into something solidh a sharp snap. Culleo still wore the look of

belief when the gladius in Valeriuss left handted from beneath the cloak. The triangular pointched into the soft flesh below his ribs before

erius angled the blade upward into the squealing

g leaders heart. He twisted the short sword free,ing the familiar warm liquid rush as another manspoured out over his hand, and turned to face hisviving ambushers. But the boy and the one-eyed

nt were not prepared to die for a cloak, not withr leader quivering in a widening pool of his own

od and the Greek mewing for his mother with ae like an underdone steak and eyes that would

er see again. They backed quickly down the alley vanished into the darkness.

Valerius studied the remains of the torchouldering in his right fist. It was smashed beyond

. He sheathed the gladiusand, with his left hand,ed the smoking bundle free from the carved walnutica that had replaced the missing right. The

ficial hand had been designed to carry a shield,did the job of torchbearer just as well. It was a little

ged, with a deep score across the knuckles wherered-haired bandits knife had struck, but it hade its job. He checked the bindings of the cowhide

ket to which the hand was attached. If they

sened, the leather chafed against the flesh of hismp, but normally a little olive oil ensured it satmfortably enough.

Hed thought he would never fight again, but hen realized that many men were just as capable of

ending themselves with their left hand as with their

t. He had toured the ludi, Romes gladiatorools, until he found the man he needed: Marcus, a

rred old fighter who had won his freedom by hiss in the arena. Now he trained with the gladiators

st mornings and he prided himself on becoming ater swordsman with his left hand than he had ever

en with his right. The first thing Marcus had taughterius was how the wooden hand could be used tock an opponents swing and expose him to a

nter-thrust.Which way to the Via Tiburtina? He walked on

hout looking back. Let them rot; it was what they planned for him. The blinded man was still

ading for his mother when someone cut his throathour later.

Valerius had noticed a subtle change since heurned from Britain where, in the same instant, he

been both betrayed and saved by the woman heed. For a time death had seemed referable to the


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s of Maeve and his hand, but as the monthssed he realized that she had provided him with a

cious opportunity. Before he had served with then of the Twentieth legion, he had been young,

ve and selfish. The naivety and the youth had beendiered out of him, leaving a new Valerius,

ghened both physically and mentally, the way the core of a sword is hardened by the combination

heat and hammer. But he had still been selfish.y now could he see how wrong it had been to

ect Maeve to leave her home, her family and herure and follow him to Rome, where she would have

en shunned as an exotic, uneducated andultured Celt. Gradually he had resolved to live hisdifferently. That was why he had finally agreed to

fathers demand that he return to the law, when hented nothing more than to breathe the stink of old

eat and a damp eight-man tent, eat cold oatmealbreakfast and lead men into battle. And why, if it

s offered, he would take up the quaestorship of a

vince: the next step on the cursus honorum androad to the Senate.

The road widened as he approached the Esquilinete. The apartment block Metellus had described

ld be any one of three dilapidated structures onright and at first Valerius despaired of finding the

aean. On closer inspection, he noticed that the

und floor of the centre insula contained a shoping exotic eastern spices and herbs. No goods

e on show at this time of the night, but on the wallow the window the trader had marked prices for

wares. Since every physician was a herbalist ofme sort, Valerius could think of no better place to

in his search. A chink of light at the edge of theavy sackcloth covering the shop doorway told himeast someone was awake, and he could make out

subdued murmur of voices.A natural wariness made him hesitate. The

aeans were a haughty people, from a provincet had been under imperial rule for fifty years but

achieved neither prominence nor importance.de with the Empire had brought Judaea prosperity

drawn thousands of its inhabitants to Rome,sumably including the man he sought. They were

pected as drivers of hard bargains and despisedthe barbarism of their religion, which a dozen

rs earlier had incited Emperor Claudius to expelry Judaean from the city. Now they were returning,mostly kept to their own districts. It was unusual to

a Jew carrying out business in the centre ofme.

He a roached the curtain and took a dee breath.


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III

AT HED MISTAKEN for murmured voices turned out toa kind of low, rhythmic chanting from the rear of the

ding. A single oil lamp spluttered in an alcove bydoorway, casting a dull light and emitting foul-

elling black smoke that clouded the upper part ofroom. Sacks and boxes lay stacked against the

ls and a table with a set of brass scales stood incentre of the floor beside a chest covered by a

te cloth. This building was one of the older insulaeRome, constructed perhaps fifty years earlier; solideast, unlike the shoddy thin-walled skeletons of

re recent times, but showing its age where the

ster had dropped from the lime-washed walls. Infar corner to his left was another door, and it was

m this that the chanting emerged, but not, heught, directly. Again he hesitated, reluctant to

rrupt a family gathering or religious ceremony,wever barbarous. But his sisters life was at stake.

Hello. The word echoed from the stark walls.Silence. A sudden, total silence that almost made

wonder if the chanting had only existed in hisd.

Hello, he shouted a second time, feeling foolish

w and sorely tempted to just turn and go.After a moment, the silence was replaced by an

rumbling sound, like muted faraway thunder, and

small head crowned by a shock of jet curlspeared round the corner of the doorway. Two

nut eyes studied him with frank curiosity.Greetings to you. The tawny girl looked about six, he gave her his most reassuring smile. I am

king for the physician who lives in your building.Without a word she took his hand and led him

ough the inner doorway into a narrow corridor. Atend of the corridor they turned into a poorly lit

m where a thin, grey-bearded man sat hunchedr a wooden bench crushing herbs in a crude

rtar, each circle of the heavy stone pestleompanied by the rumble Valerius had heard

ier. The man looked up and nodded and the girlried out.

They studied each other for a long moment, the wayn do on meeting for the first time, the older manking any sign of threat or danger and Valerius

ng to reconcile the shrunken figure at the table withconflicting stories Metellus had gabbled.

He guessed the Judaeans age at between fifty-five


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sixty. The heavy, tight-curled beard would be withuntil he died, perhaps a little whiter. Deep lines

t might have been carved by a knife point etchedow cheeks and a high forehead, providing a

manent reminder of a life of toil, trial and, Valeriuspected, physical suffering. The folds of a thick

tern coat engulfed his thin frame, yet beneath thee lay a suggestion of power conserved for more

ortant days. The eyes, solemn and steady and theour of damp ashes, had an ageless quality, and

r depths contained conflicting messages:iness, which was only sensible in theumstances; understanding, but of what? Humour

s there, held in reserve for a more appropriatement, and knowledge for the time it was needed.

a single quality stood out above all. Certainty. Thisn knew precisely who and what he was.

Salve. You are welcome to my home. Theeting was formal and the curious lisping accent

ned the v into a w.

Valerius bowed. Gaius Valerius Verrens, at yourvice. I apologize for the late hour and the lack of an

pointment, but I have come on a matter of urgency.The beard twitched, but Valerius couldnt be certain

ether it was in irritation or acknowledgement. May Ir you wine?

Thank you, no, the Roman said, not impolitely, but

are that he was unlikely to enjoy anything served inhousehold. He glanced at his surroundings. Small

h sacks, each with its clear label, were stacked inaps along the rear wall. Shelves filled with

ppered jars. Odd-shaped objects whose origin hent like to speculate. The scent of herbs and spices

d his nostrils, but there was something else too, aaviness in the atmosphere that told him other

ople had shared this room only a few momentsier. He wondered again about the chanting, and

ed that the Judaean had made no attempt tooduce himself. The grey eyes studied him and hend himself resenting the frank, penetrating gaze.

sister he blurted.s sick.

Yes.And you come to me for help at this hour? Are

your Roman physicians asleep? The man smiledtly to take the sting from his words.

As I say, it is urgent. Olivia am sorry. The Judaean shook his head. I regret I

not help you. It is forbidden. I may only work withinown community. You understand? With my own

ople.Valerius felt a momentary panic. Please, he said.

east listen to what I have to say.The physician turned back to his work and themble of pestle in mortar was an invitation for

erius to leave. But he had underestimated the


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mans determination. Valeriuss sword came half

ar of its scabbard and the unmistakable metallics brought the grinding to a halt. The Judaean

ed his head with a look of regretful distaste.So, a true Roman warrior. At his best when his

ponent is unarmed. You would threaten a harmlessman? Would it salve your conscience? Would it

ke he frowned, Olivia well again? He shookhead. Spilling blood never solved anything, my

ng friend.

Valerius held his gaze, but the grip on the swordsened. He hadnt even realized hed drawn it.ey said things about you. I had hoped they weretrue.

The bearded man gave a humourless laugh. Theyr me. They say I am a fraud and a murderer. That I

son husbands for their wives and wives for theirbands. They say, he stretched for a jar behind

, reaching inside to display its contents, a slimyce of off-white flesh, that I use the fruits of our

umcisions in my potions. Valerius swallowed. Theaean smiled. The poison sac of a sea snake. It

medicinal qualities. As you can see, all that theyis true.

They also said you were a magician. I had hoped

twas true.The older man gave a dismissive grunt. Do you

y? Then pray to your gods to help your sister.Valerius had an image of Divine Claudius,mortalized in bronze, towering over the doomed

tives huddled in the grandiose temple built in his

me. I no longer pray. The gods have deserted me.or a few moments the only sound in the room wasfaint, irregular buzz of the old mans breathing.

l me.Valerius closed his eyes and the words came out in

ush. She woke up one morning a month ago and lost the use of her arms and legs.

Entirely?No. Not completely. She could move them, but not

them properly. She made a slight improvement,two weeks ago she could not get out of bed. She

been in it since. Now she cannot raise her headake food. She weakens by the day.

The Judaean chewed his lip. Has she had

vulsions, seizures?Valerius shook his head.

A long silence developed from seconds intoutes. Eventually, Valerius could take the tension

onger. Can you help us?The Judaean turned to him, the grey eyes serious.

rhaps. Please fetch Rachel for me. She is in the

t room.When Valerius returned, the man whisperedructions in the girls ear and she hurried off,

urnin a few minutes later with a small twist of cloth,


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ch she handed to the Roman.

You must dissolve this in boiling water and makedrink every drop. You understand? Every drop, or

wasted.Then?

Then you wait.Valerius hesitated. He looked down at his hand.

s this all hed come for? A tiny twist of greywder? But what more had he expected? Thank

, he said, reaching for his purse.

The Judaean shook his head. When the daymes to repay me, you will know it. For someson a chill ran through Valerius at the innocuousds. He waited for further explanation, but the

ysician continued: Do not raise your hopes tooh. The elixir will help for a time but the effects will

be permanent.He ushered Valerius out, accompanying him

ough the corridor and into the room which led to theeet. The white cloth had slipped from the chest,

ch told Valerius where the Judaean kept thewder. He noticed a faint symbol carved into the

od. It looked like a large X transfixed by a singletical stroke with a small half-circle attached to the

The old man saw his interest. The symbol of myft, he said dismissively. Interesting, but

ortunately valueless in Rome.Valerius turned in the doorway. Will you visit her?

The Judaean sighed. My name is Joshua. Yes, Ivisit her.


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IV

PERFORMER GAZEDout over his audience seekingns of genuine approval. Instead, all he saw were

imbecilic fixed smiles of those too uncultivated topreciate the finer points of his art and held in thrall

the singer, not the song. The song was the tale ofbe, which he had performed at the Neronia, the

ival he had endowed, and told the story of aman brought low by her own ambition; a queen

o had attempted to supplant Apollo and Diana withown children, only to lose them all. He heard his

ce quiver with emotion as he reached the pointere the seven sons and seven daughters were

ted down by the arrows of the gods and theirther turned to stone, a memorial to her own greed.ear ran down the cheek of the Emperor Nero

udius Drusus Germanicus. His mother, Agrippina,d likewise died of greed.

Hadnt he given her everything, palaces, gold,wels and slaves? Influence even. Perhaps tooch influence. Still it wasnt enough; she had to

ve power. She thought he was still a child. Theye staring at him now, mouths open, and he

ized he had stopped singing before the end of theg. How strange she still had such an effect on him.smiled, and bowed, and the slack faces resumed

r grinning and the cheering began, washing overlike a warm, oily sea, sensuous and invigorating.

w he despised them all.Yes, she had to have power; he of all people could

erstand that. When one has tasted ultimate power,power to decide whether a man or a woman

s or dies, no other power will suffice. He had beenak at first, even kind, in the years after he had

ended to the throne of Rome. He had listened toadvisers. But when hehad spoken those close tohad not listened nor understood. That was before

had proved he was capable of wielding truewer. After a few carefully chosen disposals even

neca had listened, he who had never known whenkeep his mouth closed but had still managed tovive the wrath of Uncle Gaius and devious old

udius. He liked Seneca, had even trusted hime, but now he was nothing but a nuisance. He

ked up a flower that had been thrown at his feet. Its long-stemmed with a fringe of small white petals

he began to pluck them one by one, still smiling acknowledging the cheers; kill him, dont kill him,


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him, dont kill him He continued until he came tolast petal and paused dont kill him. He sighed.

neca, always the fortunate one.Not Mother. He had tried to warn her, but, like

be, she just wouldnt listen. So she had to bemoved. They should have been singing about her

ath for a thousand years, a death worthy of thes themselves. Only a true artist could have

ised it. A ship that collapsed upon itself, leavingafter part to float off still containing the crushed

mains of poor, dear Agrippina. Lost at sea. PluckedNeptune to sit at his side for all eternity.They had botched it, of course, the fools of

penters, and she had lived. He hadnt even knowncould swim! Still, the deed was eventually done.

d those who had deprived her of her opportunity formortality would never make another mistake.

He walked down the broad stairway to where hise Poppaea waited, flanked by slaves holding a

den canopy. She looked truly enchanting today, herwless features framed by tight curls of lustrous

stnut. Smiling, she took his arm and they marchedough the throng as rose petals fell at their feet andfumed water scented the air around them. He

ded at each shouted compliment A triumph,esar; The glory of the world; No bird ever sang

eeter, lord and knew it was all lies.He knew it was lies because he understood he was

the great artist he wished to be. Did they think himool to be deceived by such flattery, he who had

ended so many millions in the quest to become

at he was not? Oh, he improved with every tutor every hour of practice, but he had come toerstand that genius was god-given and not some

m that anyone could command, not even anperor. All the hours of practice and the degrading,mach-churning deceits he had resorted to and he

ld barely hold a note. Yet when he was on the

ge he felt like a god, and the sound of theplause lifted him and carried him to Jupiters right-

d side. He would not give up the applause.Agrippina would have understood, but she had

andoned him. She came to him in the night,metimes, lamenting the ordinariness of her end and

admonishing him for the loss of the snakeskincelet she had placed on his wrist in his infant bed.

visits left him shaking in terror, though he wouldeal that to no man. He hadnt understood his need

her until she was gone. Whom could he trust if notown blood? Now there was no one. He gripped

ppaeas arm more tightly, and she turned to himh a puzzled frown, the limpid green eyes full of

cern. He smiled at her, but he knew she was notvinced by the mask because the frown deepened.ar Poppaea, clever and faithful. Octavia, his first

e, had hated her. But Octavia was gone and


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ppaea was in her place. Poppaea had wanted

avia dead. How could he deny her?But what about the letter?

The letter vexed him.Thoughts of the letter brought Torquatus, his trusted

feared prefect of the Praetorian Guard, to mind, from Torquatus it was but a short step to the one-

med tribune, the hero Verrens. A darknesscended on his mind and the noise of the crowd

inished. He had wished to be the young legionary

cers friend, a true friend, and had given freely ofdevotion and his patronage. And what had he

eived in return? Rejection. Did Verrens trulyeve the slight could be ignored? He wasnt even

pretty as the other boys, the charioteers and theesome young palace servants who squealed so

ghtfully and were so flexible. Did this part-mank a common soldier was too good for an

peror? Did the hero believe he, Nero, could nottch his bravery? He felt Poppaea squirm and knew

d hurt her, but his grip on her arm didnt loosen.ll, in time, the hero would discover the folly of his

ys. In time.But, for the moment, Torquatus believed he could

useful in the matter of the letter.


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V

HERE ANYimprovement?ulia, the russet-haired Celtic slave who was

vias closest companion, shook her head.thing.

He read something in her voice. You do notprove?

approve of anything that makes her well again, butse people they are so different. We should trust

ur own gods.That word trust again. Valerius wanted to believe,

everything he saw with his own eyes made himbt. They had given Olivia the Judaeans potion an

r earlier, but so far there had been no effect. Aught sent a shudder through him. Perhaps the

s were punishing him for his lack of piety and hes the reason Olivia lay there helpless, a pale

dow of the cheerful young woman she had been amonths ago. But if he believed that he would go

d. We must do everything we can, whatever itts.

She nodded, and as she left she allowed her handouch his. He knew it was an invitation, but that had

en a long time ago, and his life had enough

mplications. He slept for a while on a couch besidesisters bed until some inner sense detected

vement. Olivias eyes opened and she looked up

him. This time recognition was instant and he sawwonder in her face. But it wasnt only at his

sence.feel strange. Her voice was hoarse from lack ofand he quickly fetched a cup of water from the jug

he corner of the room. He felt a moment of panic.ange? Had the Judaean poisoned her? When he

ced the cup to her lips he was surprised when sheed her head to meet it, something she hadnt

en able to do for a week.She surprised him again by gently raising her arm,

ndering at her own ability to achieve the simplek. And again, by smiling at him. The old Olivia.

s Father here? she asked. I thought I heard thend of his voice.

He shook his head. He is busy with the estate.eyre getting ready for harvest.

wish I could help with the harvest the way I once

she said, the simple statement breaking hisart.

You will be able to soon. When you are properly


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l.feel well now, she insisted, and attempted to

e herself to a sitting position.He pushed her gently back. One thing at a time,

by sister. Olivia smiled at the old endearment.st we have to build you up. You need to eat. She

ked at him as if food was an entirely new notion.backed off. All right. A little broth then?

No. Please. Its just She shook her head. Itms such a long time since I ate proper food. Im

enous.He called for Julia, who burst into tears when shew Olivia awake.

Valerius watched his sister eat a little boiledcken breast with a ripe peach from the garden

studied her. The change astonished him. A fewrs earlier she had been an invalid; now, she

ked almost capable of dancing. His joy was

mpered by Joshuas warning: the effects will not bermanent. Even so, this was hope and hope wasmething he hadnt felt for many weeks.

When she had eaten, she insisted Valerius help herup. I will have a conversation like a human being,

said. I have had enough of being a corpse. Shedied him as he had been studying her. You are

appy, Valerius. I can see it in your eyes.He shrugged with a little half-smile, but couldnt find

words to tell her what he felt.Me? she said, reading his mind. You must notd, Brother. I know I am dying. He opened his

uth to protest, but she put a finger to his lips. No,

not deny it. Even though you have worked thisgic today, I still feel myself fading. But do not be. I suffer no pain, only weakness. The gods are

ng me, and when the time comes I will go willingly.

I ask is that you remember me at the lemuria. Iuld like to see Father again, but I understand.

it is not just your little sister. I have seen it sincecame back from Britain. She stroked his wooden

d. Something changed you there, and not just.

They had never talked of it before, but a hollowing inside told him this might be his last

portunity. I met a girl, but she is gone. I made aw life as a soldier and I miss it.Then be a soldier again. You are still young. Still

ong. She picked up his left hand and ran her fingerr the calluses hed earned from the long hours of

ning with the gladius. You were a good soldier?Yes, I was a good soldier.Then they will find a place for you.

There is Father. He wants to see me in the

nate.She laughed, and it was like the tinkle of a delicateer bell. You will never be a politician, Valerius. The


29/269

time some greasy aedile seeking promotion triesbribe you, you will throw him in the Tiber. Her face

came serious again. You cannot live your life forher. You must find your own way.

She lay back and he placed his hand on hers. Hemembered her as she had been on the day she

ned down their fathers marriage candidate, hers flashing with fire and filling the air with scorn. No

nder the old man was afraid to see her.Tell me about Britain, she said. The request

mpted a moments hesitation. He had neverealed the truth about his experiences in Britain, notn to Fabia. But, like the good sister she was,

via eased the path for him. But only speak of theppy times.

So he told her about the fine land, the forests andmeadows with their endless unnameable shades

green, the bounteous hunting and the pride of theons; about his beautiful Maeve and her

crupulous father Lucullus, and Falco and theenders of the Temple of Claudius, and of Cearan

the fearsome Iceni warriors he had led.He sounds very handsome, she said. For abarian.

He was. And a good man.f you serve in the legions once more, where would

e? Britain again?He shook his head. Britain has too many

mories for me, so not there, at least for now. Therealways trouble on the Rhenus frontier and a good

cer would be welcomed, even with one arm. Or up

ond Illyricum fighting the barbarians on thenuvius. But the most likely place would bemenia, in the east, where General Corbulo is

mpaigning against the Parthians.So Armenia it is, my hero brother. Tomorrow youst petition Nero for a position on General

rbulos staff and her voice took on a fairation of their fathers pompous tones do not

urn unless you add new laurels to the name of theerii.

He would have replied, but she lay back and closed

eyes. Within a minute she was in a deep sleep.arranged her as comfortably as he could and

sed her gently on the forehead. Her skin felt fever

against his lips.On the way to his room he met Julia in the corridor.

s she Shes asleep, but I think the medicine is wearing

Tears welled up in the slave girls eyes. Please askbarbarian doctor to help my mistress. If

He touched her arm. You can ask him yourself. Hepromised to visit, but dont call him a barbarian.

might turn us all into frogs. The old joke made herle. And Julia?


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Yes, sir?Mistress Olivia said she thought she heard a

ns voice today. Have there been visitors youent told me about?

No, master, she replied. But she took a long timeay it.

erius rose before sunrise the next morning, the

lfth day of June and the third of Vestalia. At thise of the day the streets were cool, and by the time

passed the Temple of Vesta a long line of womenre already waiting with their sacrifices to the

dess of the hearth. The festival was the only timetemple was open to any except the virgins whontained the sacred flame, and then only to women

the Pontifex Maximus, Nero himself. The scent ofking reminded him he hadnt broken his fast, but he

led at the thought of eating the tasteless saltes the priestesses produced as tributes to the

ddess.The gladiator school was on the flat ground known

he Tarentum, outside the city wall on the west sidehe Campus Martius. He turned off the Nova Via on

the Clivus Victoriae and then across the opence of the Velabrum until he could follow the river

nd to the old voting grounds. The stench from theer gagged in his throat, but he knew he would

come used to it, just as he would become used tosight of the bloated corpses of dead dogs and

ormed newborns floating in its sulphur-yellow filth.

e river flowed sluggishly on his left and to his right

fading grandeur of the Pantheon and Agrippashs were highlighted by the early morning sunshine.

By the time he reached the ludusa score of menre already sweating as they faced each other on

hard-packed dirt under the critical gaze of the

ista, the trainer who would hire out his troop to thetores who staged games for the Emperor or for

patrons who wanted to impress their friends.

stly they fought for show, but occasionally, ifough money was on offer, these men who shared

rack rooms and meals, and sometimes beds,

uld fight each other to the death. Valerius had onceen a staunch supporter of the games, with his ownourite fighters, but now he stayed away. In Britain

had seen enough blood spilled for a lifetime.Most of the gladiators were slaves, former warriors

ept up by the Empires wars and spared the livingath of the mines and the quarries for the

ertainment value they promised. A few wereblooded: troublesome farm slaves sold on by theirners because it was more profitable than killing

m and bought by the lanistaon the strength of theire and fighting potential. Fewer still were theeborn who fought of their own free will: debtors,

mbling their lives to release themselves from some


31/269

ncial millstone, or men addicted to the thrill ofmbat and seeking the eternal fame that was a

diators greatest prize. The odds were againstm. Most would never find it, only a painful death

irming in their own blood and guts on the sand.He saw Marcus, his trainer, working with two

ters in the centre of the practice ground andked through the gate and into the shade of the

rack building to do the loosening-up exercises thegladiator insisted upon. Most of the gladiators

ned naked, but Valerius preferred to cover hisdesty with a short kilt. He removed his tunic andefully folded it on a bench by the doorway. A few of

men glanced at him, but none acknowledged him.would never be truly welcome here among the

ng dead. He felt the tension rising inside him. Hes ready. First, short runs to simulate attack and

eat. Then stretches and muscle movements. Mores. More stretches. Only when a man had broken

eat and could feel his breath searing his lungs andheart ramming against his ribs was he ready for

fight. As he took a drink from the fountain adow loomed over him.

Not too much, Marcus warned. I have a treat for

today.Valerius eyed him suspiciously. Every time hed

ard those words they had been followed by pain humiliation. The trainer grinned, turning the scar

t split his right cheek into a crevasse. Stocky andkly handsome, despite the missing left ear which

s a permanent memento of his career, he was the

est man Valerius had ever met, with hands thatld blind you with their speed.

He introduced the figure who walked up to join

m. Serpentius of Amaya. Valerius looked intos that hated you in an instant and a face that saidowner liked to hurt people. The narrow white

ms that marked the shaven skull told of pasttles won and lost. The man was thin and dark as a

ckmans whip and looked just as tough.Serpentius, Valerius acknowledged, but the other

y stared at him.

We call him Serpentius because hes so fast. Theke, right? Marcus explained cheerfully. A

aniard. Even faster than me.

Valerius picked up his wooden practice sword. Iht as well go home then. He spun round to bring

blade down on Serpentiuss upper arm, only tothe point of the Spaniards own sword touching

throat.Marcus howled with laughter. Quick, eh?Valerius nodded, his eyes never leaving his

ponents. Quick.looked like being a very long two hours.

The men around him practised with sword againstand trident, sword against sword and sword


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ainst spear. Valerius only ever used the short

onary gladius or the spatha, the longer cavalryde. With the gladius, a man killed with the point;ck, brutally effective jabbing strokes and a twisting

hdrawal that tore a hole in an opponents guts the

e of a shield boss. With the spatha it was ambination of the razor edge and brute strength that

ld bludgeon a man to death or chop him to pieces.today wasnt about killing. They would use

oden practice swords and it was about speed and

urance, building strength and discoveringaknesses, his opponents and his own. Unless, ofrse, Serpentius decided differently.

They took their places in the centre of the trainingund and Valerius shuffled his feet into the dusty

th to get a feel for its grip. His opponent carriedy a sword, in his right hand. Valerius always trainedh sword and shield; sword in the left, shield

ached firmly to the carved wooden fist that servedhis right. No point in strengthening his left arm by

stant practice if he allowed his right to witheray. He would not be a cripple.

He felt Serpentiuss eyes on him. When he lookedthe Spaniard was staring at him with the same

ression hed seen on the face of a half-starvedpard in the circus.

Ready? Marcus demanded.Valerius nodded.

A legionary, eh? Serpentius spoke so quietly thaty his opponent could hear. Legionaries killed my

ily.

Fight.The practice sword was twice the weight of a

rmal gladius, but for all the trouble it gavepentius it might have been a goose feather.

mehow, the point was instantly past Valeriussard and only a desperate lunge with the shield

cked it aside and saved him from a bone-nching thrust to the heart. Before he could recover,

point was back, jabbing past the shield at hiss, his belly and his groin. He managed to parry the

thrust and block the second with the shield, butthird caught him a glancing blow on the inner thigh

t would have unmanned him if it had landedare. Already the sweat was in his eyes blurring his

on, and he struggled to keep pace with thecing figure beyond the shield. For the first five

utes it was all he could do to survive. He took hitshe shoulder and a strike that might have cracked a

But he fought on, spurred by pain and pride, neverching Serpentius, until gradually his senses cameerms with the speed of his opponent. His brain

an to match the thrusts as they were launched, the sword and the shield anticipated the

aniards attacks.


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Serpentius felt the change, and altered his tactics.w he used his speed to wear Valerius down,

ays keeping him turning to the right so that themans sword could never reach him. Constantly

nging the line of attack. Now high, now low. Anful crack on the ankle left Valerius hobbling for a

seconds, but the stroke was only a feint.pentiuss real target was the eyes. A practice

ord might have an edge that wouldnt cut a loaf ofad and a point barely worth the name, but it could

take your eye out, and Valerius saw more of theof Serpentiuss sword than he cared for. By thee Marcus called the first break he knew every

nter and notch intimately, and it was only goodune that had saved him from being blinded.

He crouched down, his chest on fire, the breathring his throat. Marcus knelt beside him as the

aniard stood a few yards away drinking from aatskin and barely sweating.

Youve got your sword in your left hand, but you stillk like a right-handed fighter, the older man said.

ure allowing him to dictate every move and youreard slower than he is. If you keep going like thiss going to kill you.

Will you let him?Marcus let out a bellow of laughter. Hes a

diator. He could die in the ring tomorrow or thet day. Hes a slave and you are a fucking overfed,

erworked lawyer. He wants to kill you, and whatthey going to do to him if he does? Its not a

estion of will Ilet him. Will youlet him?

Valerius nodded. Youre right. He started to getbut Marcus put a hand on his shoulder.

Dont fight like a one-handed man, or a two-ded man. Fight like a killer.

Serpentius heard Valerius laugh out loud, andndered what the joke was. The Roman wouldnt be

ghing in another few minutes. He was tired ofting. It was time to finish it.

Valerius waited for the command. Think like a killer.

nt think like a cripple. Think like the man whood before the bridge at Colonia and dared

udiccas hordes to come to him. Think like the mano slaughtered the bastards by the dozen. He

membered the tattooed champions, tall and proud,od fallen before his sword. He remembered a man

h burning eyes who ran a hundred paces to kill him,had died under his shield. Think like a killer.

Ready.Before Serpentius could move he smashed the

eld towards the Spaniards body with all his weightind it and felt the satisfying crunch as the layers of

soned ash hit solid flesh. If the shield had beenipped with a metal boss he might have disabledopponent, and as Serpentius retired he kept up

onslaught, always following and never allowing


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to set his feet for an attack. He knew he couldnt

ntain this pace for long, but it was enough for noweep him on the run and make an occasional touch

h point or edge. Batter forward with the shield toin Serpentiuss sword, then twist to attack from his

efended side. Always moving. Dictate. Cripple thetard if you get the chance. No. Kill him if you get

chance.Serpentius was surprised by his opponents

overy, but not concerned. His feet would keep him

of serious trouble and he knew he was still goingwin. A man carrying a shield had to tire before an who didnt. All he had to do was bide his time.d make the Roman pay for the bruises.

But the Roman was turning out to be tougher thand thought. Valerius was still moving when Marcus

ed the next break, even though he could barelyak when the former gladiator came to stand at his

e and he didnt dare crouch in case he couldnt getagain. Instead, he leaned on his shield like a

nkard.Better, Marcus said. Youre wearing him down.

Valerius smiled at the joke, but it hurt his eyes.ed sweat caked them as if he was staring out of a

mask. Above, the sun beat down from a cloudlessand his flesh felt as if it was on fire. If I dont finish

oon hes going to kill me.

Then finish it.rom the word of command, Valerius attempted the

me tactic as he had in the second session, but thise it was obvious to everyone watching that he was

slow. The other fights had come to a halt as thediators were drawn to the epic, mismatched

test between the crippled former tribune and then killer who hated every Roman. They whispered

s to each other and no man put his money onerius except old Marcus, who accepted the odds

h the distracted air of a gambler who knew he hadady lost. You could almost feel sorry for him.

Each time Valerius attempted to use the shield to

Serpentius back, the Spaniard was able to skipar and launch an attack from another angle. Time

again it appeared he had made the decisiveke, but somehow Valerius always managed to get

ord or shield in the way, just enough to avoid whatuld have been a broken bone or gouged eye. But it

ldnt last. Serpentius was laughing now, mockingopponent as a coward and a cripple, mimicking

staggering steps as Valerius attempted to stay onfeet. Then he saw his opening. It was the shield.

erius had held it shoulder-high all the heat-blastedrning, his arm a single bar of agony and the pain in

stump long since transformed into a silent scream.w the shield wavered and fell to one side andpentius swept past it with a snarl of pent-up

tration, the oint of the heav ladius aimed not


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the eyes but in a killing blow at the throat that

uld leave Valerius choking on his own blood. Atst the Spaniards mind told him he was past it. The

man could barely hold the shield, never mind moveSo how could the upper edge be slicing towards

pentiuss jaw, and his head be jolted backwardsh a force that made the sky fall in and darkness

me several hours early? When he regainedsciousness he found he couldnt raise his head

his throat felt as if it had someones boot on it. He

ened his eyes and far above him at the end of theg pale slope of the shield was a red-eyed vision ofdes.What is it you do with a snake, Marcus? Cut off its

ad?Serpentius heard Marcus laugh. The pressure on

throat increased and he said a choked prayer tors, at the same time cursing the fickle god for

erting him.Valerius stared down at the pinned man. He only

to shift his weight to break Serpentiuss neck. Butkilling rage was gone. With a grunt of effort, he

d the shield from the Spaniards throat.Die in our own time.


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VI

ERIUS FOUND TWOmen waiting in the atrium when heurned home after a frustrating day at the courts,

he glared his annoyance at Tiberius, the stewardo had invited them in. His body still ached from his

sing encounter with Serpentius and his tempersnt helped by the fact that the smaller of the two

n, a greasy, overweight youth who couldnt haveen more than eighteen, addressed him as if he

e the owner of the house and Valerius a none toocome guest.

You are Gaius Valerius Verrens, former tribune ofTwentieth legion? he demanded in a high-

hed, petulant voice.Gaius Valerius Verrens, holder of the Gold CrownValour, Valerius corrected, winning a smirk from

taller of the two, whose broad shoulders and quietrtness marked him as a bodyguard, as did his

e, which had collided with solid objects more oftenn was good for it. And who might you be?

The plump youth fumbled beneath his cloak.audius Helvius Collina, he announced, brandishing

gold ring bearing his seal of office like a bettinget. Imperial messenger.

Valerius reached for the ring and noticed the bign tense. He didnt have any doubt it was genuine,

it didnt do to make life easy for pipsqueaks withas above their station. The messenger snatched itay, but Valerius insisted and eventually Collina

ded it over, although he maintained his grip on thein.

When he was satisfied, Valerius gave the ringck. Very well. What message do you have for me?

You are to attend the gatehouse at the Clivus

toriae tomorrow at the second hour.dont want to hear it, I want to read it. He held outhand.

The message is to be relayed orally. This man ise to confirm that it has been done and the wording

orrect.or a moment Valerius felt like someone who hears

rumbling in the distance and knows it is an

lanche, but finds he cant move his feet to get outhe way. A summons was bad enough, but one

hout written confirmation hinted at trickery, or

rse. This was no invitation to a reception or one ofEmperors recitals. He considered his options

quickly decided he didnt have any.


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Not old, nor a busybody. He smiled back. I thinkare clever and wise, which are very different

gs, and I think you will always be beautiful andays be desirable.

She gave a little laugh and bowed her golden headhe flattery. Pretty words from a simple soldier, and

ds any woman would be happy to hear, but timeever be the enemy of beauty and age the enemy

desire. All we can hope is to use what we havel. The last sentence reminded him of Olivia and

saw it in his face. The Emperor has manyponsibilities and many concerns, Valerius. Since

death of his mother he has turned to his

rologers more often than to his advisers. He wouldbe Nero if he did not suspect everyone. He

dies his predecessors and notes that they weretroyed by those closest to them. Where others

le his late uncle, Gaius Caligula, Nero admires, for his ambition if not his aptitude for survival. He

the same ambition but understands the need top his Praetorians close. He believes his mother

soned both Claudius and his natural father, whichne of the many reasons he removed her. When het Seneca away he thought he had cleansed the

t. Now his augurs speak of an enemy within thees of Rome. A sinister force akin to a beast with

ny heads that is burrowing into the rock of theatine itself and undermining him. They say the very

pire is threatened. Nero wishes to lash out.tunately, he has advisers who preach more

dent counsel and reason stays his hand, for the

ment. It is said he is confused and unhappy and itwhen he is confused and unhappy, not when he is

ry, that he is at his most dangerous.

Who says this?She shook her head. People tell me things,erius, but do not ask me who, or how, or why,

ause you may not like the answer. Accept whatare given; do not question the motives or the

dity of the source.He nodded. His trust, at least, he could give freely. I

t doubt that what you say is true, but I still cannot

how it helps me.Poor Valerius, who does not recognize his ownue. You look at tomorrow and see only your fears.

nsider the advantages. The opportunity to regainEmperors favour.

The last time I had the Emperors favour I did notthe advantages it brought.

He tried to seduce you and you refused him? Dolook so shocked, Valerius, of course I could see it.

d if he had succeeded? What fools men are to take

act of physical love so seriously. Warmth, comforthaps; if you are fortunate, a little passion and a

ting moment of pleasure. Would it have altered? I have done things, Valerius, that would perhaps


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nge your opinion of me, but I have not let themnge me. She spoke the last sentence with a

ocity that made him wonder if it was true. It hader occurred to him to feel sorry for her. But Fabia

s nothing if not an actress, and she quicklyovered her poise. Whatever anger Nero felt

ainst you is long past. If you had been one of thosepering slave boys he surrounds himself with, or

e of his lusty charioteers, he might have had youed or put away, but you are a Hero of Rome. He

e not touch you, because to harm you would risknating the legions and he cannot rule without theirport. My advice to you is this: whatever he asks,

prepared to at least consider it.Despite his doubts, he knew that she was right. He

asked for her advice; how could he refuse it?Will you stay with me for an hour? This was

erent. Their meetings had always been, for all theirasure in each others company, on a purely

mmercial basis. Her voice had changed, the toneand husky and filled with desire. He knew he

uld refuse.Of course.As she led him through to the bedroom she

ndered what he would think if he knew the truth.uld he ever forgive her?

as late when Valerius returned home, his head fullhat half-floating sensation that comes after longrs with a beautiful, sensuous and passionate

man intent on ensuring her own satisfaction and

rs. His body gave a pleasurable shudder at themory of the miracles Fabia had wrought and theings that had accompanied them. Perhaps

He heard the sobbing as he entered the atrium andrushed to Olivias room to find Julia lying hunched

the bed beside his sister. She looked up. It is as ifterday had never happened, she sobbed. She

nt woken or moved all day. You must help her.es dying.

m sorry, Julia. I shouldnt have left you. I will findmeone else tomorrow. A nurse or a companion.

t isnt a nurse or a companion she needs. It is hermily, the girl said accusingly.He stared at her. He would never have taken those

rds from another slave, but Julia and his sister haden together since they were children. She was

vias best friend as well as her servant.ll send a message to the Judaean. He said he

uld visit Olivia.The suggestion calmed the girl, and he waved her

m the room.m sorry, he whispered, taking his familiar place

ide the bed. I neglected you today for the wrongsons and tomorrow I will have to neglect you for thet ones. Do you remember


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Her eyes remained closed, but her face told himt she could hear him.


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VII

VICTORY ROADclung to the side of the Palatine Hill,ping first from the west, then turning to climb

oss the northern face. A faint haze hung in the air,the low sun quickly cleared it and halfway up the

Valerius, who had dressed in his finest for theasion, turned to look out over the centuries-old

ry of the Forum and the shimmering sea ofacotta roofs that disguised the festering reality of

Subura. He wondered if he would look upon itain. At his back soared the marble splendour of

ros sprawling palace, home of every Caesar sinceerius. Many of the men who had followed this path

entered it and never left. In theory, no Romanzen could be tortured or sentenced to death unlesswas guilty of treason. Caligula, and, in his final

rs, Claudius, had shown that the reality could bey different. Their blood ran in Neros veins.

But some journeys had to be made, even if eachp was reluctantly taken. He squared his shoulders

approached the gatehouse, where he surprised ar of black-clad guards lounging sleepily against the

l.Gaius Valerius Verrens.

The senior of the two yawned. Early, arent you?dont generally have anyone official at this hour.

studied a list pinned to the gatehouse door andok his head. Doesnt say youre expected. Ill

ed your pass. He held out a hand.

Valerius shook his head. The invitation wasvered verbally. The Praetorian noticed the stress

the word invitation and raised his eyes.Verrens? The tone was polite but the way the two

etorians straightened told Valerius everything he

eded to know about the speaker. Stunted butdly built and in early middle age, he wore his hairpped short and had features that might have been

fted with a blunt knife. The skin on the left side offace had the texture of melted candle wax and

de Valerius wonder if hed been caught in a fire atme point. It was a face that would scare children

repel women. On another man it might have

pired pity, but not on this man. You knew instantlyt the mind behind the mask was as ugly as the

shapen features he presented to the world.

At your service. Valerius kept his voice neutral, butnt bow, which made the face twist into a parody ofmile.


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Lucius Licinius Rodan.Now Valerius understood why the Praetorians were

nervous. Officially a lowly centurion of theetorian Guard, Rodan was the one who, if Nero

an enemy, would ensure he was an enemy nore. By assassination if necessary, but the

etorian was rumoured to prefer more subtlethods. Perhaps the mans younger son would be

nd with his throat cut; would he risk the elder? Hise might be molested in his house; who was to

w when the molesters would return? If his horsesned to death in their stalls, he would understandt his family would be next. Rodan was one of the

st dangerous men in Rome and his presencede this meeting all the more unpredictable.

Has he been searched yet? No? Then what arewaiting for? Expert hands ran over Valeriuss

y, missing nothing. The Praetorian delicately heldValeriuss walnut fist for inspection.

t could make a good bludgeon, he suggested.Fool. Rodan shook his head. I think we can leave

his hand. After all, he did lose it in the service ofme. Follow me.The gateway led directly into the palace gardens

ere a path wound along an avenue of pear andple trees, through parkland studded with fountains

flower beds. Valerius walked a pace behind hist, whose bearing made it clear that a missing

d and a military honour did not add up to any formrecognition in Rodans world. Rodan provided a

minder of his power a few moments later. A group

laves were working to replace plants near the pathen one of them accidentally sprinkled a few grainsoil on the Praetorians gold court slippers.

Rodan halted as if hed walked into a wall.erseer! he shouted. This man assaulted me. Heo be taken to the Castra Praetoria for questioning.

The slave, a thin dark-haired boy of about fourteen,ned death pale. His hands brushed desperately at

dans feet until there was no sign of the offending No, sir, please, sir, I beg Without warning,

dan kicked the boy full in the face with enough

ce to break his jaw. Valerius saw three white teethas the young slave somersaulted backwards to lieaning on the path. Rodan stood over him, casually

sidering whether to kick him a second time beforeciding that the lesson had been absorbed. Two

n picked up the slave boy and carried him away.erius had come across men in the legions who

ted out violence as readily as Rodan, but nevere so coldly. He comforted himself with the thoughtt they were always the ones carried from the fight

h spear wounds in the back.They walked quickly through a colonnade until they

ched a large door guarded by Praetorianstched like a pair of thoroughbred horses. Nero was


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d to choose his palace guard personally, with allcare he gave to the choice of his chariot teams,

their looks and physique. Clearly, Rodan had beenected only for his talents. Inside, everything was

rble and gold. Ahead of them stretched a longridor lined with gilded busts of the Emperor and

predecessors. At set intervals curtained alcovesmed statues of Apollo, Venus or Jupiter and other

ser members of the godly pantheon. Enormouses filled to bursting with vibrant yellow flowers

tinued the colour scheme. A display of neck andm rings made of twisted strands filled part of one

l and Valerius recognized trophies taken from

ish kings. Another held plates and ornamentsch could only have come from the east, a small

t, he guessed, of the plunder Corbulo hadhered as he subdued the Parthians in Armenia.

erius would have stopped to study them moresely, but his guide glared at him.

This way, Rodan said irritably, indicating aorway to the right.

They entered a large open room dominated by anormous statue of painted marble. It was incrediblyike and portrayed a naked man and two younger

e figures being tormented by writhing snakes. Then was reaching upwards with one arm half

wined with a serpent, while his right handempted to keep a second snakes gaping jaw from

body. Valerius recognized the group as Laocon,h priest of Troy, and his two sons. He remembered

Laocon had warned the Trojans against Greeks

aring gifts and wondered if it was a portent for thiseting. Rodan ignored the sculpture and turned toleft where a set of six wide steps led upwards to a

den throne.The throne was empty.Wait here. Without another word the Praetorian

urned the way hed come.Minutes passed while Valerius stood in solitary

nce. He knew the wait was designed to make himeasy, but knowing didnt make it any more

arable. As his eyes adjusted to the light he noticed

ail that had not been apparent when he entered.e wall behind the throne was not solid, but a silkeen carefully painted to blend in with the garden

nes behind. It was almost translucent, so that if heked carefully he could see faint shapes moving

ind it. A slight rustling confirmed what he alreadyw. He was being watched.

He measured time by the shadows creepinghritically across the floor. By now tension hadeloped into a slow-burning anger. He willed his

t to stay where they were. Seneca stood here, heught. Seneca had suffered the same creeping

ertainty; the cramping of the legs and the roaringde his skull. Lucius Annaeus Seneca was an old


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I. We have both suffered in Romes name. Weuld be friends. He raised his hand to Valeriuss

ek and the young Roman couldnt prevent himselfching from the manicured fingers. Neros eyes

kened and the room seemed to freeze; theatural stillness was broken only by the sound of the

perors hoarse breathing. The scent of a strongfume trickled into Valeriuss nostrils and made him

ed to sneeze. He wanted to turn away, but theblinking stare held him like a vole in the grip of a

trels claws. Very slowly, Nero brought his facese. Valerius tried not to smell the sour breath or

the outlines of the small pus-filled spots that

ted the skin beneath the powder. He felt his gorgeas the painted lips touched his. A thick tongue

bed his closed mouth and the urge to vomitcame almost irresistible. He knew that if he gave in

he sensation he would surely die. He stood, still asmarble statue on the other side of the room, and

ured.After a few moments without a response, Nero took

tep back. His tone mirrored the astonishment onface. You will not return your Emperors love? Iswhat a soldier calls loyalty, or devotion, or duty?

Valerius could feel the fear rising in him. Againstother form of attack he could have defended

self, even if it meant his death, but this? Not willCaesar. From somewhere he found the right

ds. Cannot. It is not within my gift or my power.Neros head swayed on its long neck, the cold eyes

er leaving their prey. But it is within mine. His

ce quivered with righteous anger. I could have youd down and use you as I willed.Then it would not be love, and you would have lost

loyalty and devotion.

And youwould have lost your life.My life is my Emperors to take, though I had

ped to give it willingly on the battlefield.or a dozen long moments Nero studied him.hout warning he gave a girlish laugh and flounced

ay. Am I not the greatest actor in the world? Withhing more than a kiss I have a Hero of Rome

armed and trembling in fear.Valerius bowed his head, not in acknowledgement,

to ensure that the other man could not see murderected in his eyes. He had never felt such fury. He

nted to reach out and take the scrawny neck in hisd and squeeze until the breath rattled in Neros

oat like a dying chickens. To flail with the walnut fistl the pasty, overfed face was smashed into a

ody pulp. Slowly, he willed the rage to subside anden he looked up the Emperor had taken his place

the golden throne, with the emerald dress ruffed upund his thighs and his thin, pale legs hangingcrously below.

Now the voice took on a new authority. I brought


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here for another reason, Gaius Valerius Verrens,o of Rome. Will you serve your Emperor unto

ath?There could be no hesitation, though the words

ked him. I will, Caesar.Nero waved a hand theatrically towards the

cony. Look out and tell me what you see?Valerius hesitated. There were so many answers. I

Rome and its people.The Emperor shook his head, flinging the ringlets

and right. No, he snapped. You see a nest oftors. Romes laws are flouted. Romes gods arecked. A disease is already within our midst. It is

eading with every hour. You will discover therce of the disease so that we may eradicate it.

u have heard of a man called Christus?Valerius shook his head at the unfamiliar name.

, Caesar.A Judaean troublemaker, from the province of

ilee and put to death almost thirty years ago, butmakes trouble still. Before he died he promised

Jews eternal life. A small number accepted the lie.arpenter came close to setting the province afire.

ose who survived continue to plot in his name. They

vel the Empire holding secret meetings andaching that he is a god. It is said they drink the

od of children, and if that is true I will not leave onehem alive. But Seneca taught me to be just and I

not believe it without proof. You will supply thatof. We have evidence that they are already in the

. You will find the followers of Christus and pass

r names to my servant Torquatus. You are ouro of Rome. Now I name you Romes defender

ainst this evil and appoint you honorary tribune of

guard. If you succeed, you will be for ever in ourour. Here. He reached inside the folds of the dress retrieved a ring on a gold chain, similar to the one

courier had shown Valerius, who walked up thers and took it, brushing his lips against the back of

ros hand. The imperial seal. Use it well, and whenare done return it to us and receive your reward.

quatus! A tall, handsome man appeared from the

side of the screen, his unlined face set in acking smile. Valerius wondered how long he had

en listening. Torquatus will furnish you with the

ails.The two men bowed and backed away, but the

peror wasnt finished.And Verrens? Valerius looked back at the

atest actor in the world on his lonely stage. Fail usour peril.

u are very fortunate, Torquatus said as they left the

m.What do you mean?ts not every man who receives a personal


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formance from the Emperor. You played your parte well.

Valerius bit back his anger. I would rather not have a part.

You are a man who finds it difficult to hide hisotions. You wanted to kill him, and he knew it. But it

y made him desire you more.f I had wanted to kill him he would be dead. The

tence was out before his brain had the chance tosider how potentially lethal the words were.

Torquatus stared at him. Coming from another mant declaration would have warranted imprisonment execution, but perhaps not this man; not for the

ment. He pointed back towards the balcony. Youe never been closer to death than you were in that

m. Four of the finest archers in the Empire stoodind those windows with their arrows aimed at your

ck. He would have required only to raise a singleer.

A chill settled on the centre of Valeriuss spine.hy me? Surely there are others better qualified to

ry out this task.Torquatus stopped at the junction of two corridors.cause you are available. Because you have

ved yourself brave and resourceful. Somehow therds brave and resourceful emerged as

berate insults. The Emperor commissioned aate report from Julius Classicanus, our new

curator, on the causes and conduct of the British. Governor Paulinus naturally attempted to blame

ryone but himself, but he was forced to admit that

e had acted upon the information you providedout the Iceni the conflict might have been avoided.smiled coldly. Of course, a more politically astute

eral would have had you killed when he had theportunity. As it was, only yourself and youngicola came away from that contemptible little

nd with any laurels. You had the opportunity to riseh in the Emperors service if only you had

moured him a few moments ago. A small price to. You might have had a legion he has rewarded

er men with more for less and, for a resourceful

n with a legion, no prize is beyond reach. Valeriusnd himself staring. What was Torquatusgesting: that one day he might supplant Nero? The

y eyes

defender of rome - douglas jackson

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