Thunder of the Gods (6 page)

He held out the message scroll that the imperial chamberlain had given him on the day of the Tungrian cohorts’ sailing, his face fixed in neutral lines as he recalled Cleander’s wry advice: ‘I can assure you that Domitius Dexter isn’t going to be a happy man when he opens that scroll, so you’d probably be well advised to make sure you look appropriately innocent when he does so.’

Dexter took the scroll, still staring fixedly at the man standing before him with a look that combined curiosity with something harder.

‘Thank you …
Legatus
.’

In the governor’s mouth the last word was more question than title, and Marcus saw signs of a growing incredulity spreading across his face despite his obvious efforts to compose himself. Scaurus offered him a second scroll, already unsealed and with its edges foxed from repeated reading.

‘Just for the sake of formality, Governor, you might like to read
my
orders …’

His tone was light, but the edge of steel in his voice caused Dexter’s eyes to narrow as he reached for the scroll. Reading swiftly, his head shook slightly from side to side with apparent amazement.

‘If I wasn’t reading it with my own eyes then I simply wouldn’t have believed it. You are appointed to command the Third Gallic, to gather whatever forces can be spared, and then to march to our outpost at Nisibis, defeating any enemy forces that may be threatening the integrity of Rome’s rightful frontiers.’ He looked up at Scaurus with a bemused expression. ‘You. An
equestrian
. In all my years I can honestly say I’ve never once been as genuinely amazed as I am now. An equestrian legatus? What next?’

‘A freedman as imperial chamberlain, perhaps, Governor?’

Dexter’s head snapped up, his face suddenly dark with anger.

‘If you’re trying to make fun of me then I’ll warn you that I’m not a man who reacts well to humour at my expense.’

Scaurus shook his head.

‘I’m deadly serious, Governor. There is a freedman currently occupying the role of imperial chamberlain, and running the empire in all but name.’

Dexter leaned back in his seat with the look of a man who saw the walls around him starting to topple inward.

‘Cleander?’

Scaurus nodded, and the governor ran a hand through his hair.

‘Gods below, the empire’s fate has slipped into the hands of the most venal individual in the palace. What happened to Perennis?’

‘The praetorian prefect managed to incur the displeasure of the emperor. I believe it had something to do with his putting his own image on a large number of coins, which then found their way into the emperor’s hands. As you might imagine, the matter didn’t end well for him.’

Dexter leaned forward, his eyes suddenly hard.

‘And this happened when exactly?’

Scaurus delivered his reply with a deadpan expression, although the words were subtly barbed.

‘Three months or so.’

He paused for a moment, then twisted the knife.

‘Clearly I must apologise for being the bearer of bad news. I would have expected you to have heard of the change before this.’

‘Fetch the centurion of the guard would you lads?’

The two soldiers guarding the legion barracks main gate dithered for a brief moment, each of them looking at the other in consternation, and Cotta shook his head in amusement.

‘I see the quality of the average recruit out here hasn’t got any better while I’ve been away.’

‘You! Stay here and make sure I don’t try anything underhand. And you!’

The other man snapped to attention.

‘Very nicely done, soldier. You go and fetch the duty officer, right?’

The soldier in question darted back in through the gate, leaving his mate to stare at the two officers before him in bemusement. Cotta grinned back at him, clearly enjoying the legionary’s discomfiture.

‘I know, it’s not every day that two strange officers turn up and tell you to go and find an adult for them to talk to, is it? And Silas here smells of horses, just to make it even stranger. Back in my day, you know, you wouldn’t have—’

His monologue was interrupted by the curt interjection of a centurion who appeared behind the soldier with a glowering stare.

‘Yes?’

Cotta smiled.

‘Good afternoon. We are officers of Legatus Scaurus’s personal staff, and we’re here to see the camp prefect.’

The centurion shook his head in obvious incomprehension.

‘Who the fuck—’

‘Is Legatus Scaurus? He’s your new commanding officer, you dozy bastard.’

The centurion bristled, but Cotta was faster to the punch, raising his vine stick to point at the clearly irritated officer.

‘And don’t go thinking you can just fuck me off and go back to your nap. I knew you when you were a snotty-nosed recruit, so all that chin jutting isn’t going to work with me!’

The duty officer’s eyes narrowed, and his response was little more than a whisper.

‘Cotta?
’

‘Yes. And yes, I am that evil-minded bastard you never thought you’d see again, you halfwit.’

The veteran centurion stepped forward.

‘Your new legatus has sent me here on a mission of the highest importance. So point me at the camp prefect’s office and I’ll be on my way.’

Coming out of his momentary shock, the duty officer shook his head.

‘I can’t.’

Cotta grinned back at him.

‘You don’t have any choice, sonny. My
legatus
has given me this. And my legatus outranks your first spear quite nicely.’

He unfurled the scroll that had been waiting in his right hand:

‘You will proceed to the headquarters of the Third Gallic Legion and take possession, on my behalf, of any and all legion records, in order to ensure an orderly handover from the previous legatus to myself. Any officer who obstructs this lawful order will answer directly to myself as legatus of the legion, as appointed by the emperor himself
.’

He grinned at the centurion.

‘You quite literally have no choice. Get in my way and my legatus will tear you a new arsehole, one so generously sized that you’ll fall into it and disappear.’

The other man shook his head.

‘No, I mean you literally can’t see the camp prefect. There isn’t a camp prefect.’

While Cotta frowned, the man beside him grinned happily.

‘I remember a joke someone told me …’ Silus pondered for a moment. ‘Oh yes. Why is a camp prefect like an arsehole?’

Cotta turned to Silus with a raised eyebrow.

‘Go on then, it seems we have time for your joke.’

The decurion shrugged.

‘Well, he does some really important shit, but nobody wants to spend any more time with him than they really have to.’

Cotta nodded equably.

‘That’s actually not bad. Well done, Silus.’

He turned back to the legion officer.

‘So, in the absence of a camp prefect …’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘We’ll just have to go for the next best thing. Is your first spear in camp?’

The centurion shook his head again.

‘He’s in the city. He went in last night and isn’t back yet.’

The veteran pulled a face.

‘Well I’m not going anywhere near the tribunes. Where’s your legatus?’

‘He went into Antioch in a hurry this morning and hasn’t come back.’

Cotta pointed at the man with a triumphant expression.

‘So as duty centurion you’re the most senior man left in the barracks! Come on then!’

He brushed past the man with a gesture for Silus to follow him.

‘Here, you can’t—’

Turning back to the centurion, Cotta tilted his head to one side.

‘Well in truth it does rather look as if I can, doesn’t it? I have orders from the legion’s new commander telling me to do so, the legion’s old legatus seems to have made himself scarce by the looks of things. Someone’s been careless enough not to bother replacing whoever the last camp prefect was, and your first spear seems to like it in the town a lot better than out here with the soldiers. So I’m just going to do what every good soldier should and follow my orders, which means going for a look at the legion records to see what’s what. You can either arrest me – which will be interesting given that Silus here has a pathological hatred of being confined and could punch the head off a statue – or you can come with me to make sure I don’t try to make off with the legion’s pay. Oh, and you might want to send a runner into the city, to tip the first spear off to the fact that he’s going to have a very bad-tempered legatus here within the hour. It seems only fair to give the poor man some warning, eh?’

Governor Dexter looked down at the scroll on the desk before him with the expression of a man contemplating a live scorpion, and the two men waited in silence while he broke the parchment’s wax seal and unrolled the message.

‘Do you know the contents of this message, Legatus?’

Dexter’s voice was suddenly quiet, his former bombast replaced with a softer, more menacing tone, and Scaurus simply shook his head.

‘Then for your information I am hereby relieved of my duties as governor of the province of Syria, and instructed only to conduct essential duties of state while I await my successor.’

He shook his head bitterly.

‘A successor who will doubtless have been hand-picked from among the emperor’s extensive collection of arse-lickers and catamites!’

He sat back in the chair and looked up at Scaurus through narrowed eyes.

‘Essential duties of state. The term covers a multitude of potential activities, does it not?’

Leaning forward, his voice took on a conspiratorial tone.

‘I’ll tell you what it does include, Legatus. Matters of the empire’s defence against its foreign enemies. After all, the province of Syria Palestina can hardly be left rudderless, drifting aimlessly at the mercy of the whim of our enemies, can it?’

Scaurus nodded briskly.

‘I understand, Governor, and I laud your commitment to your province’s security. You wish to march on Nisibis at the head of the Third Legion.’

His answer was a spluttering laugh.

‘At the head of the legion? Of course not! My place is here, ensuring that the entirety of my province is protected from the rapacity of those who would seek to exploit any weakness. You only have Nisibis to consider, Legatus, but my responsibilities are far more broad than one scruffy little desert town that isn’t even part of my province. No, I shall stay here in Antioch, and ensure that the potential disaster of Rome losing this pearl of a city does not come to pass. You may march on Nisibis, Legatus, but you may take no more than half of the legion’s strength with you. The remainder will stay here, under my command.’

Scaurus raised an eyebrow.

‘Stay here, Governor? Surely the Third Gallic should be based at Raphanaea, or up at Zeugma, strengthening the watch on the border with Osrhoene?’

Dexter waved a dismissive hand.

‘Osrhoene, Legatus, is a client of Rome. The risk that King Abgar might invade the province is only slightly greater than that of a revival of the Republic, which is to say none at all! I decided at the start of my tenure that Antioch would be best protected by the presence of its own legion, permanently available to safeguard the city. A detachment from the Third Parthian more than suffices to keep watch on the Euphrates at Zeugma, and in time of need my Gauls could be marched to reinforce them quickly enough. After all, we’ll have plenty of warning from Abgar’s scouts, should the King of Kings make the unlikely decision to move against us.’

‘But the city can only be attacked if an enemy manages to cross the Euphrates, which is why the fortress at Zeugma—’

Dexter shook his head briskly.

‘Your predecessor Legatus Lateranus and I decided that the position at Zeugma is far too easily bypassed by an enemy as cunning as the Parthians, so we centred our defence of the province’s north on Antioch instead.’

Dexter turned away to look out over the city again.

‘You can discuss the military ins and outs of the matter with Lateranus when he returns from leave, if you’re still here, of course.’

Scaurus stared back at him for a moment before answering.

‘Leave? When do you expect his return?’

Dexter shrugged, his face professionally expressionless.

‘I have no idea. We received word of his father’s death only yesterday, and so of course I sent him back to Rome immediately. He’ll be gone for months, I’d imagine.’

The legatus stared levelly at his superior for a moment.

‘I see.’

‘I’m sure you do. After all, you’re no less a gentleman for only being an equestrian. So serious a family matter must take precedence.’

Scaurus nodded.

‘I think I understand the urgency of my predecessor’s departure only too well, Governor. With your permission I’ll go and take command of my legion, since it’s here?’

Dexter nodded, turning back to his view across the city.

‘By all means, Legatus. I’m sure you’ll find your deputy Gabinus Umbrius has a firm grip of matters. I’ll have your orders written up and sent over to you this afternoon.’

The two men bowed and left him staring over the rooftops, making their way out of the palace in silence. Scaurus stopped at the top of the steps and looked out at the city with a small shake of his head.

‘Half the legion. Five cohorts against a Parthian army. We’ll all be dead before we get within sight of Nisibis if that order stands. Let’s go and break the good news to Julius.’

Legatus and tribune found Cotta standing outside the Third Gallic’s fortress, alongside a tall, thin man who was equipped in an almost identical version of his centurion’s uniform. His long faced was heavily lined, and his hair completely grey, but his demeanour seemed steady enough at first glance. The legion officer seemed to be remonstrating with their colleague in a lively manner, but both men snapped to attention on noticing the approach of senior officers.

Cotta strode forward, speaking quickly to Scaurus in low tones calculated not to carry to the legion officer.

‘The legion’s records are as they should be, Legatus, properly maintained and fully detailed. Apart from the fact that there’s a lot of men away on leave, it looks clean enough.’