Read Marcus Aurelius Betrayed Online
Authors: Alan Scribner
Calvus, for all his self-importance, was intimidated by the overwhelming eminence, experience and intelligence of the
consilium
, almost as much as he was by the Emperor himself. Indeed, Marcus Aurelius was often quoted as saying of his
consilium
that “it is more just that I follow the advice of so many such friends than that my wishes, the wishes of one person, are followed by them.”
Calvus reported that conditions in Egypt were good, the harvest and grain supply would be good, and the notoriously fickle Alexandrians would be no trouble. He accounted his time at the helm in Egypt a great success.
After his report, Calvus was escorted into the garden by the Emperor and expressed the hope that the
appellatio
of his son Secundus would be held soon so that he could quickly return to his post in Alexandria.
Then Marcus Aurelius broke the news to him that his successor as Prefect of Egypt was already on route, so time for the
appellatio
was not of the essence. It would be held in due course and Secundus would receive the customary 5-day notice ahead of the trial.
Taken aback, Calvus hardly knew what to say, but managed to ask “why? Why have I been replaced?”
There was no need for Aurelius to mention that he and the
consilium
were unanimous in their decision. There was no point in taking any chances with a Prefect of Egypt whose son was suspiciously in contact with the personal aide to a general in command of legions who was critical of both Emperors. Aurelius said simply, “the
consilium
thought it was time for a change and I agreed with them.”
“It’s because of that Judge Severus, isn’t it? He’s poisoned your mind against me. And against Secundus, who he has a grudge against and is persecuting. So I just want to say that whatever report he made to you is false and certainly incomplete because there are witnesses who he never spoke to and others who he intimidated and manipulated to condemn me and my son.”
Aurelius listened in silence, but then interrupted to say that since he would be the judge at the trial, his mind has not been made up about the case and he should wait to hear any new evidence in court. With that, he dismissed Calvus and went back into the chamber to confer with his
consilium
.
XXXIII
SERPENTINUS IS HUNTED DOWN
T
he
insula
apartment building in the Subura was surrounded by personnel of the Praetorian Guard, some in civilian clothes and some in full military dress. It was the 2
nd
hour of the morning, and the street was already alive with activity. Two agents sat in a taverna across the street from the apartment house drinking wine. One looked like a philosopher -- a long beard, gray Greek philosopher’s mantle and walking stick -- the other, in a scruffy tunic, looked like his slave or servant. They were watching one of the 3
rd
floor shuttered windows and its balcony across the street. Four more agents were playing dice on the sidewalk, clad in ordinary gray or brown tunics, looking like typical idlers of Rome’s crowded and lively Subura district. They were stationed beneath that same 3
rd
floor window. Three more agents stood in line waiting to buy sausages from the cookshop next to the entrance of the
insula
. Two more were on each of the five floors of the apartment building, at the foot of each stairway, keeping the corridors clear. Another two agents were stationed on the roof.
Down the street at the nearest intersection, out of sight of the target
insula
, there was a formation of eight Praetorian guardsmen in full military dress, glittering bronze helmets and armor, with swords drawn and scorpion-emblazoned shields ready. They were waiting for the signal to go. An animated crowd of onlookers and gawkers mingled around them, blocking traffic on the crowded streets. Some were already taking bets on which apartment house or shop the soldiers were going to raid. A number of these bystanders were also Praetorians.
The flood of guardsmen in the area, more than 30 in all, measured their almost paranoid determination. First and foremost was the principle that no one, absolutely no one, kills a member of the Praetorian Guard and gets away with it, no matter how many men or how much time it took. The murder of the Praetorian Velleius, found with his throat slit in an alley, had to be avenged. It was, after all, a simple matter of self-protection, self-defense.
It hadn’t taken much investigation to pin the crime on Serpentinus, the creepy aide to the Prefect of Egypt who Velleius had been assigned to follow. Evidently, Serpentinus had spotted Velleius trailing him, lured him into an alley a few streets from the Subura apartment where he was holed up and waylaid him there. It was not known whether Serpentinus even knew who Velleius was. Possibly he thought he was being stalked by a robber or an urban predator of some kind. No one saw the murder, but that didn’t matter to the Praetorian Guard. It was not a question of evidence for a law court because who else could it be? The only thing that mattered was that Serpentinus had obviously murdered a Praetorian and he had to pay for it.
Serpentinus was now hopefully trapped inside his apartment on the 3
rd
floor of the
insula
. It was from there that Velleius had followed him for a few days to Isarion’s ‘Golden Ibis’ shop in the Saepta Julia market and back again. And after the murder, Serpentinus continued what he had been doing, checking up on whether Isarion had returned or not. But he remained under surveillance by Praetorians.
The Praetorian Tribune Cornelius was in charge of directing the raid and making the arrest. He commanded the operation from the back of a laundry, one of the shops on the ground floor of the target
insula
. Dressed in full battle gear -- helmet, sword, armor -- he munched a Lucanian sausage on a stick and sipped wine, while biding his time.
In the same shop laundry slaves were busy trampling dirty clothes into a large basin of cleansing and disinfecting urine mixed with fuller’s earth. They watched the goings-on with some interest, even if out of the corners of their eyes. Anything was a welcome change from their mind-dulling and smelly jobs.
“What are you waiting for?” asked Vulso who had been invited by Cornelius to watch the arrest as an observer. He was also in full battle dress, wearing his transverse side-to-side centurion’s helmet crest, instead of a regular front to back crest. He wanted action, not to stand around amid the repulsive smells of a laundry.
Cornelius finished his sausage, sucked on the stick, and gave it to a slave attending him, while wiping off his greasy hands in the slave’s hair.
“Now it’s time.” He gave a signal to an aide who stepped outside and waved to the Praetorians in battle dress. They responded on the double, and with Cornelius
and Vulso stepping in front of them, they all charged into the
insula
, past the smelly buckets of residents’ feces awaiting collection, and up the stairs to the 3
rd
floor. Cornelius stopped in front of the door to Serpentinus’ apartment and nodded to two burly Praetorians behind him. One had a key obtained from the owner of the building. He stepped forward and as silently as he could inserted the key into the lock, turned it, and pushed fast and hard against the door, which sprang open.
Inside, a nude Serpentinus looked up from the bed in silent, wide-eyed astonishment as the Praetorians rushed in. The naked woman under him screamed. Two guardsmen hauled Serpentinus into an upright, standing position, locked in a firm grip. Another guardsman dragged the woman out of the bed, shoved a tunic from the floor into her hands, and ushered her out the door and down the stairs.
Cornelius drew his military
gladius
and pointed its steel blade -- 20 inches long, 3 inches wide, and double edged -- against Serpentinus’ midsection. “For slitting the throat of a member of the Praetorian Guard,” he announced to Serpentinus with a grim voice and face.
“I didn’t know who he was,” Serpentinus managed to gasp out in desperation when he saw the look on the Tribune’s face and heard the tenor of his voice. “I didn’t know who he was,” he repeated pleadingly. “I thought he was a robber.”
“It makes no difference,” responded Cornelius, looking directly into his eyes. Then, with all his might, he thrust the sword into Serpentinus’ stomach, twisted it and pulled it out. Serpentinus made an indecipherable sound somewhere between a grunt, a groan and a scream as blood spurted from his stomach. Then he began to
shake and gurgle as a bloody froth came out of his mouth and nose, his life literally “bubbling out”, as if to confirm the Latin expression. Then he collapsed, still in the grip of the guardsmen, and died.
“Resisting arrest,” announced Cornelius and walked out of the room.
A few hours later Vulso reported to Judge Severus that he needn’t worry about Serpentinus testifying at the trial before the Emperor.
XXXIV
ARTEMISIA CONTRIVES TO MEET AURORA AND STRATON SPREADS SOME NEWS
“W
hy don’t I have to worry about Serpentinus?” asked Severus. He was in his chambers, dressed in a white tunic with the narrow reddish-purple Equestrian stripes, arranging documents in the tall circular
scrinium
in the middle of the room.
“Because the Praetorian Guard murdered him,” answered Vulso. “I was there.”
“I thought they were going to arrest him.”
“He was arrested… for about the blink of an eye. Then Cornelius executed him for slitting the throat of a Praetorian, namely Velleius. Cornelius called it resisting arrest, but actually he didn’t even have time to resist.”
“Does this disturb you at all?”
“Why should it? My own Urban Cohort would do the same, as would the
Vigiles
, as would almost any other police organization whose member was murdered. It’s self-defense, deterrence and revenge, all rolled into one.”
Severus was tempted to make a few choice criticisms from the points of view of both Roman law and Greek philosophy, but held back in deference to reality. Instead he just shrugged and changed the subject.
“I have some interesting news.”
Vulso looked at him inquiringly.
“Calvus is no longer Prefect of Egypt. He’s been replaced. I heard it from a reliable source on the Palatine.”
“That is interesting. Why was he replaced?”
“That letter from the general’s aide on the Persian front to Secundus. It’s too suspicious. They would have to be either naïve or negligent to disregard the possibility that Calvus is involved. He may or may not be. But while they need Avidius Cassius to conduct the war, they don’t need Calvus to be Prefect of Egypt. It’s too risky now.”
“Will this be useful to us?”
“I think so. I want to make sure this news gets to certain people – the Isis priest Petamon, for one, and Calvus’ concubine, Aurora, for another. I suspect that Calvus brought them both to Rome to lie for Secundus at the trial before the Emperor. If they’re bound to Calvus in deference to his position and power as Prefect, as may well be the case, then if he’s no longer Prefect, the bonds may loosen or even break.”
“But Petamon is holed up in the Isis Temple in the City and Aurora is at Calvus’ home. How can we get the news to them?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. Petamon is easy. I’ll send Straton to pose as a follower of Isis as he did in Alexandria and have him visit the main Isis temple here and just spread the news. Since Isis in an Egyptian cult, the news that the Prefect of Egypt has been replaced will be of immediate interest and will spread within the cult.
The priests, including Petamon, will certainly hear about it. They will probably check it out, of course, but since the news is true, they will just confirm it for themselves through their own sources.”
“What about Aurora? How will you contrive to let her know?”
“I’ve been discussing her with Artemisia. My wife has volunteered to try to meet her surreptitiously and see what she can find out. We know from having Aurora followed that she’s in the habit of going to an exclusive Roman
balneum
near Calvus’ house to bathe every morning. Artemisia’s friend Valeria lives nearby, so Artemisia’s idea is to stay at Valeria’s apartment on the Esquiline for a few days and go to that
balneum
. She can be there for a few mornings before Aurora arrives and try to strike up a conversation with her. Now she can also contrive to tell her the news that Calvus is no longer Prefect of Egypt.”
“It’s a good idea,” said Vulso, “but there’s still a flaw. It may be that Calvus is no longer Prefect and therefore not so important a person, but he’s still in Rome and still a presence and a powerful one at that.”
“You’re right about that.” Severus mulled it over and then smiled. “Maybe we can have Straton and Artemisia also spread a rumor. I’ve actually heard it myself from my source on the Palatine, although he may have been joking.”
“What’s the rumor?”
“That Calvus’ next posting will be to Hadrian’s Wall in the far north of Britannia and in the middle of winter. We can spread that story. When they hear it, Petamon and Aurora may think twice about tying their futures to someone so out of favor.”
Vulso laughed. “Hadrian’s Wall is a good place for Calvus. In the middle of winter will also be good time for it. And what’s more, it’s probably true.”
The next morning Artemisia was in the pool at the
balneum
before Aurora arrived. The poolside was elegantly decorated with tasteful mosaics of dolphins cavorting in the sea and the water in the pool was clean and clear enough to see the mosaics of fish at the bottom.
When Aurora came in from the changing room, Artemisia along with everyone else in the pool or by poolside turned and stared. As all bathers, Aurora was nude, but she was more beautiful than anyone else. Her face was stunning, her body lithe. Her hair was naturally red; her head hair straight and long and her pubic hair stylishly arranged into a semi-circular topped triangle. Silent admiration lasted a few moments for most of the women who then returned to their loud and engrossed talking to one another as Aurora entered the water. For others, though, their eyes stayed fastened on Aurora, as did their minds and their libidos.