Harry Sidebottom - Iron and Rust

There was commotion out in the atrium. Gordian rang the little bell for Valens. The a Cubiculo did not appear.

The door crashed open. Gordian sat up as a mob burst into the room. Although his heart was hammering, he would not betray himself. Since the condemnation of Junius Balbus, he had been half expecting this. Maximinus could take his life, but he would not let the Thracian take his dignitas .

‘What do you want?’ Gordian managed to keep his voice level.

The men stopped. They were armed, but they were not soldiers. There were three well-dressed young men with swords. Behind them were many plebs with kitchen knives and clubs, who gawped at the rich furniture and fine hangings.

Where in Hades was his bodyguard, Brennus? Where were the household troops? Perhaps he could keep the men talking.

One of them had a purple cloth in his hands. He came forward and draped it over Gordian’s shoulders. By all the gods, no — he would not be trapped like that.

‘Augustus!’ They shouted. ‘Gordian Augustus!’

Gordian shrugged off the fatal trappings. He slid off the couch, got down on his knees.

‘Please-’ he held up his hands in supplication ‘-spare the life of an innocent old man. Remember my loyalty and goodwill to the Emperor. I mean no treason. Spare me.’

One of the young men gestured for silence. He faced Gordian with his sword at the ready.

‘You have a choice,’ he said. ‘You face two risks: one here; the other in the future.’

Gordian said nothing. Were they not agents of Maximinus?

‘Put your trust in us, accept the purple and overthrow the tyrant.’ The young man moved the blade. ‘If you refuse to join us, then this day will be your last.’

Gordian saw the crowd behind the young man part. His son stood there, his toga all covered in blood. No, not that! Anything but that!

His son walked forward, reached for the blade, put it down. Thank the gods, he was unhurt.

Kneeling by him, his son took his hands in his, kissed them, kissed his cheek.

‘Father, the soldiers and people are tearing down the statues of Maximinus. They are acclaiming you Emperor. There is no way back. You must free the Res Publica .’

His son raised him up, and whispered in his ear:

‘ Let me at least not die without a struggle, inglorious, but do some big thing first, that men to come shall know of it. ’