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Robert Fabbri: Rome's executioner

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Robert Fabbri Rome's executioner

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‘Are your men ready to move out, decurion?’ Vespasian asked, dismounting.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good; have you seen Centurion Caelus?’

‘I’m right here,’ a voice came from behind him.

Vespasian spun round to see Caelus marching Varinus and his three mates towards him; all had kit bags over their shoulders.

‘Detail, halt!’ Caelus barked. The legionaries came to a smart stop. Vespasian noticed a couple of them wince with pain; the three younger ones had the wounds on their wrists bound with clean bandages. ‘Take a horse each,’ Caelus continued, ‘strap on your kit bags and mount up.’ The men hurried to do as they were told. In a deliberate slight to Vespasian’s authority Caelus turned away to get himself a horse without reporting to the senior officer.

‘Centurion!’ Vespasian shouted.

Caelus stopped and turned to face him slowly.

‘Centurion, come here.’ Vespasian pointed to the ground in front of him. Caelus’ cold eyes looked around quickly. The men were all busy with their horses but Tinos, Sabinus and Magnus were watching him and he could not afford a display of insubordination in front of witnesses. He sauntered over to Vespasian.

‘Report, centurion,’ Vespasian said in a quieter tone, fixing Caelus’ eyes with a hard stare.

‘Centurion Caelus-’

‘At attention, centurion.’

Caelus came to reluctant attention, hatred burning in his eyes. ‘Centurion Caelus reporting with the four legionaries being transferred away from the garrison.’

‘I didn’t hear the word “sir” in that sentence.’

‘That’s because it wasn’t there,’ Caelus said in a whisper that only Vespasian could hear.

Vespasian brought his face forward close to Caelus’ and spoke quietly and quickly. ‘Listen to me, centurion, you may have more years of service than me, but I am still the senior officer. If you show me disrespect again I shall have you busted back down to a common legionary. I’m watching you, is that understood?’

Caelus gave a cold smile. ‘Oh, I understand all right, it’s you that doesn’t. You couldn’t bust me, I’m protected by people in high places; in fact it’s me that’s watching you.’ He stepped back and saluted as if he had been dismissed. ‘Sir!’ he bellowed so all could hear as he turned on his heel and marched smartly away, leaving Vespasian fuming and feeling impotent.

‘That didn’t seem to go too well,’ Sabinus observed dryly.

Vespasian turned and glared at his brother with such intensity that Sabinus decided not to pursue any more sarcastic remarks and walked his horse away towards the little column of cavalry that was now almost ready to depart.

‘We’re going to have to watch Caelus too, sir,’ Magnus said as Vespasian remounted. ‘If he tries to undermine you in front of the men we could have trouble.’

‘I doubt Varinus and his mates bear him any love, they’ve just felt his cane on their backs. Perhaps you should become matey with them and I’ll cultivate Tinos; that way we’ll isolate Caelus, then we’ll just have to find a way of losing him.’

‘I can think of a sure-fire way of losing him,’ Magnus said seriously.

‘That’s what Paetus suggested.’

Magnus raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s a novelty, a garrison commander suggesting ways of losing a centurion.’

‘Well, let’s hope that it doesn’t come to that,’ Vespasian said, kicking his horse forward towards the head of the column. ‘I can imagine that Caelus would be a hard man to lose.’

Artebudz and the Thracians joined the rear of the small, double-filed column as it clattered out of the gates at a canter and headed along the newly paved road northwest towards the pass that led into Moesia. Caelus looked back at them suspiciously as they took their place behind the four spare mounts.

‘What in Hades are those fox-fuckers doing?’ he snarled.

Vespasian knew that the question had been directed at him but did not deign to answer as Caelus, again, had not addressed him as ‘sir’.

‘Messengers to Moesia from the Queen coming along for the ride,’ Tinos replied, having been forewarned by Vespasian of their arrival and seen nothing out of the ordinary in it. ‘They often come with us when we go north with despatches; safety in numbers, you see.’

Caelus grunted and let the subject drop. Vespasian smiled inwardly, thanking Paetus for his simple ruse. He turned to Tinos next to him. ‘Decurion, send a four-man scouting party a mile ahead on either side of the road and tell them to send a report back every hour.’

The decurion looked at him quizzically, unused to taking such precautions in the now peaceful client kingdom of Thracia.

‘Do it,’ Vespasian ordered, ‘and tell them to keep a sharp lookout.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Tinos replied, peeling away back down the column to give the orders. A few moments later a lituus, a long, straight cavalry horn with an upturned bell end, shrieked a series of high notes and eight troopers galloped past the column and off into the distance towards the looming snow-covered, cloud-ridden massifs of the Haemus to the north and the Rhodope to the west.

Magnus fell back to get himself acquainted with Varinus and his mates whilst Vespasian settled down to the ride, making pleasant conversation with Tinos as the road started to gently climb through familiar rough country. After the first hour of brisk riding two of the scouts returned within moments of each other; both briefly reported nothing moving in the surrounding area before galloping off again to rejoin their respective units. The rain that had been threatening all day finally started to fall lightly; Vespasian pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders and dropped back next to his brother.

‘You did well to spot the discrepancy between the amount of silver bullion at the mint and the amount of denarii minted,’ he said referring to Sabinus’ part in uncovering how Sejanus had utilised Poppaeus’ silver to strike the coinage that he had used to encourage the Thracian rebellion. He had been the junior magistrate overseeing the striking of silver and bronze coinage at the time.

Sabinus looked at his brother, surprised; he had never received a compliment from him before, which was not surprising as he had never paid Vespasian one. ‘I suppose you want me to compliment you on the thorough way you taught me accountancy,’ he replied suspiciously.

‘Not necessarily, although you’ve just implied a compliment by using the word “thorough”, so thank you.’

‘Hmph, well, thank you too,’ Sabinus grunted grudgingly. He turned his head away and hunched his body against the intensifying rain.

They rode on in silence for a while, Vespasian casting the odd sidelong glance at his brother, who resolutely refused to acknowledge him. He smiled to himself, amused by the unintentional compliment that Sabinus had paid him and how it was quite obviously irking him.

‘What have you been doing in Rome since you finished your year with the Vigintiviri?’ Vespasian eventually asked conversationally.

Sabinus frowned. ‘What’s it to you?’

‘I’m interested; you are my brother, after all.’

‘If you must know, little brother, I’ve been cultivating people to secure me votes in the quaestor elections this year.’

‘It can’t have been just arse-licking surely?’ Vespasian wiped away the drops of rain that dripped from his red-plumed helmet.

‘Of course it was; that’s how it works, and the bigger the arse the harder I lick it. Your fellow tribune in the Fourth Scythica, Corbulo, for example, he was a quaestor last year and is now in the Senate, his arse has been well and truly licked.’

‘You know Corbulo?’

‘Don’t sound so surprised, it’s down to you that his arse was put my way for a good licking.’

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