Chapter IV Trajan #2
While I’d made sure I was the first to inform Caesar of his nephew’s betrayal, it wasn’t enough to ensure my loyalty to him rather than to my general, Julian.
I needed to be sure Caesar didn’t suspect that I’d been, and still was, allied with Julian.
So I’d quickly taken up speaking in the forum before the senate house about the danger of traitors like Julian.
It had worked. I was elected tribune to the senate within a week.
It couldn’t have been more perfect if I’d planned it.
Emperor Igniculus sanctioned my honorable discharge from his armies, especially since the general I worked under was a criminal traitor to Rome and he believed me a trusted ally, loyal to him. It was the perfect guise.
As we walked up the street, a prostitute dressed in only a sheer red skirt stood in front of the brothel next door to Euphemia’s shop. She placed a hand on her hip.
“Need some special attention, dominus? I can help remove that frown on your face.”
“Not today, darling,” I told her as we passed.
“Bad news?” asked Koska.
“What? No. All is well with our mutual friend.” I wouldn’t dare say the name Julian on the street.
“Something else, then?”
“Someone, yes.”
Koska remained quiet the rest of the walk through the busy streets.
I had a meeting with Agrippa, a well-respected senator from the House of Media Nocte and friend of my grandfather’s.
More importantly, a trusted ally. We’d planned to meet by accident near the Curia.
If we talked near the columns of the senate house, no one would bother us, believing we discussed private politics.
And we would. Just not the legal kind.
The crowd thickened as we entered the forum.
The weather had begun to turn cooler, so the smells weren’t as pungent as usual.
A vendor selling bath oils shouted his wares.
Along the outer circle of the forum were the fruit vendors.
I walked along this edge to avoid the throng milling around the slave and animal auctions toward the center.
The praeco stepped up onto his dais near the forum center next to the statue of the she-dragon suckling Romulus and Remus. With his booming voice, the crier began the midday announcements.
I ignored them, moving around them until I heard the name of General Drussus.
“The barbarian hordes who killed innocent Romans in the provinces of Moesia have been surrounded on the northern border of Thrace,” he bellowed.
I suppose Quintus and Valerius were right.
I’d wanted to seek out this clan led by a Germanic warrior.
Julian had encountered him face-to-face, and that was the most he knew about him.
Other than the fact he was sure that he’d seen dragon fire flicker behind his eyes.
We’d also predicted that his army was wholly or partly made up of dragons.
Considering how many bastard-born dragons had been sold or smuggled out of Rome and other parts of the empire, it was indeed possible.
“While the traitor Legatus Julianus Dakkia could not capture this enemy,” the crier went on in a theatrical tone, “Legatus Drussus will certainly defeat this foe who has burned yet another Roman province. We expect a swift triumph from the noble and glorious Legatus Drussus. And for mighty Rome.”
I hoped not. If the marauders had moved on from Moesia to Thrace, then they were closer to Rome.
Agrippa caught my attention. The sober-faced senator stood near the Curia, facing the praeco. He was tall, his lean frame wrapped in a perfectly draped black toga, watching the forum like a jungle cat, cool and assessing. His gaze found me then darted away.
Koska followed me as I wove through the crowd. He remained several feet behind while I greeted Agrippa.
“Salve, Agrippa. What a welcome surprise.”
He nearly rolled his eyes, still facing the city crier. I did the same, standing next to him.
“That was the clan you and Julian had encountered, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. My grandfather told you about that?”
“A little.”
I glanced at him, knowing Grandfather had likely confided in Agrippa our theory of the Germanic warrior and his stealthy band, who had escaped us by catching many of our men in nets and setting the forest on fire.
“How much did Grandfather tell you exactly?”
“Enough to know that we won’t be able to use that horde in our own efforts.”
“Looks unlikely,” I agreed.
“Unlikely? Their leader’s head will be up on that wall within a fortnight.”
He didn’t need to clarify which wall he meant. The Wall of Victory bore over a hundred skulls mounted on spikes in various stages of rot. However, it was the Wall of Traitors that drew my eye now.
Caesar had commanded his praetorians to mount a golden spike on the wall. It was for his nephew, my dearest friend and ally. I had yet to tell Julian of this latest grotesque order by the emperor.
My gaze lingered on the familiar heads of Senators Phillius and Marcus, and I realized how close we’d all come to the same fate that night not so long ago.
We also owed them our lives, as they’d obviously not revealed the other conspirators’ names under torture. The senators took them to their deaths.
“What’s the status with your son?” I asked Agrippa, coming to the fruit of this brief clandestine meeting.
“Better than we hoped.”
His son, Marcellus, had served as quartermaster and camp prefect under Legatus Ciprian. After Julian killed Ciprian to save his mate, Caesar promoted his tribune—Scippio of the Ignis House—to general, and Marcellus fortunately made the climb to tribune of his legion.
“Numbers?” I asked vaguely as a cluster of senators passed us by, leaving the Curia.
“A dozen. But half are officers.”
“He hasn’t given names, has he?”
Agrippa cut his gaze to mine. “What do you think? My son is no fool.” He faced forward again. “No. He is wary of Scippio, who emulates our emperor in all ways.” He heaved a sigh. “Details of our allies will only trickle down when we are sure of them all.”
“He needs to be absolutely sure. I need a list of names.”
There was no certainty when gathering numbers to our cause, no assurance that who we welcomed into our fold wouldn’t betray us to the emperor. That’s why we had to move slowly and test loyalties to see who would serve as a true ally, who would lay their lives down for the cause.
Agrippa nodded, still watching the crowd. “It’s being given to Koska as we speak.” He finally turned his head to me and gave a parting nod. “Burn it once you’ve read it.”
Then he sauntered off into the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched his body slave leaving the vicinity of Koska, who was tucking a missive into his belt, Agrippa’s slave following after his master.
Slowly. It was all moving too fucking slowly.
Unfortunately, our original plans evaporated into nothing when Julian killed Ciprian and flew from Rome with his woman upon his back.
Not only did we lose our leader, but we also lost two senators that night.
Now we needed numbers. Caesar was gathering his men close, knowing there must be other conspirators in his midst.
“Let’s get home,” I told Koska, who’d sidled up next to me.
Making our way out of the forum, we took the street toward Palatine Hill. When we rounded a corner, I stopped suddenly and pushed Koska back. We flattened ourselves against the wall, and I peered around the corner.
Up ahead Lela was speaking to a Roman noblewoman in a litter, her identity hidden as she handed something out of the enclosed carrier.
Lela’s bodyguards stood farther away, arms crossed, with their backs to the women, watching the surroundings and the few people marching up and down the street.
They were close enough I could catch their words.
“But I know how that must chafe. My girl makes the best ointments and salves to keep the skin soft. Surely, Consul Valerius would appreciate you keeping your skin as soft as possible.”
It was Fausta Ovidius. I recognized her voice. Twice widowed and allegedly looking for a third, she was of the Media Nocte house and socialized in the highest circles of Rome.
Lela took the small glass bottle and looked down at it. Then she unwrapped something—parchment—attached to the bottle and slipped it quickly into her stola, glancing over her shoulder at her bodyguards.
“Thank you, domina,” she said with a bow and turned back up the road.
“You’ll thank me. And so will Valerius,” Fausta cooed haughtily then let the silky curtain of her litter fall.
Her litter-bearers then carried her on down the hill to wherever she was going. But my gaze was on Lela making her way back to her own home. My gut tightened.
“Koska.”
“Yes, Tribune.”
“Do you know anyone in the household of Fausta Ovidius?”
He paused. “One of her slaves frequents the tavern below my apartment.”
“That’s fortunate. Can you become more friendly with her? Then find out if there’s anything out of the ordinary in Fausta’s household?”
“Of course, Tribune.”
I turned to look at him. “As soon as possible.”
Koska was of middle years but was handsome and well-built for a human. Though he wasn’t a Roman citizen, he was a freed man—having been freed by his master on his death under the emperor before Igniculus. He’d attached himself to our army to make good pay working the camps on our battlefields.
There was always danger for those humans who worked the camps of Roman armies.
There was danger from the enemy, but also from dragons in half-skin.
Undisciplined soldiers lost their tempers, letting the beast take hold.
Humans could easily be maimed or killed by dragons in half-skin when their blood was up from battle.
Koska had proven himself capable, smart, and above all else—loyal. I’d never divulged in words what my allies and I planned to do. But when I’d approached him about working for me, he’d replied, “I would be happy to work for any man loyal to Legatus Julianus Dakkia.”
It was daring and foolish to say something like that to me, not knowing where my allegiance lay. I could’ve arrested or even killed him for speaking an obvious betrayal to the emperor. Yet, he’d held my gaze, his heart pounding in his chest, waiting to discover if he’d made the right decision.
I’d merely nodded and smiled, and that was that.
“Do you understand?” I asked him, gravity in my voice.
“Yes, Tribune. I will discover whatever there is to know.” Then he left swiftly in the other direction toward the Aventine.
I remained still, watching Lela walk away, unable to move until she’d disappeared from sight.