Simon Scarrow - Praetorian

Even as he took comfort from this certainty, Cato felt a pang of anxiety as he wondered if he could balance that with being a husband to Julia, and one day a father to their children, should the gods bless them with any. Other men managed, but Cato wondered if he could cope with such a compromise. Equally, would Julia tolerate it? Would she be prepared to remain the loyal, loving wife while Cato campaigned alongside Macro to safeguard the frontiers of the empire?

He tried to shake off his doubts and concentrate his thoughts on his reply to Fuscius. It was possible that the younger man was testing him. Perhaps Fuscius was involved in the conspiracy in some way. Or had he overheard something? More worrying still was the possibility that he simply reflected the views of many in the ranks of the Praetorian Guard.

‘A new emperor,’ Cato mused. ‘And you reckon it’ll be Nero.’

‘Who else?’

‘He’s the most likely candidate to replace Claudius,’ Cato conceded. ‘Although, there’s another possibility. Why should we bother with another emperor at all? Why not return to the days of the Republic? Of course, we’d be out of a job. What would be the point of the Guard without an emperor to protect?’

Fuscius stared at Cato for a moment. ‘Whoever it is that rules Rome, you can be sure that they’ll want protection. The senate will need looking after just as much as an emperor. And they’ll be prepared to pay for it.’

Macro laughed. ‘You’re suggesting that the Praetorian Guard enters the protection racket.’

Fuscius shrugged. ‘Call it what you like. The fact is, we’re the real power behind the imperial throne, or whoever else we choose to support.’

‘Do you really think that the army should seize power?’ asked Cato.

A smile flickered across the young guardsman’s face. ‘Not at all. Just think of it as an unofficial check on the power of whoever rules Rome. For which service we will be handsomely rewarded.’

‘Or else,’ Macro added sardonically.

The latch on the door snapped up and the door swung open and all three men started guiltily as they turned to see Optio Tigellinus standing on the threshold of the room. He regarded them curiously.

‘What’s this? You look like a bunch of toga lifters caught in the act.’ He let out a grunt of amusement before he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘Calidus, Capito, you’re wanted at headquarters. Centurion Sinius sent for you. Better hop to it.’

‘Yes, Optio.’ Cato nodded. ‘Any idea what he wants?’

‘Not a clue.’ Tigellinus smiled thinly. ‘That’s up to you to find out, my lad.’

Cato discreetly felt the slender bulge of the object in his belt purse. He had been expecting the summons.

Tigellinus began to untie the helmet strap under his chin as Cato and Macro made for the door. Just as they reached the threshold, the optio spoke again.

‘Don’t think that I haven’t noticed how fond you two are of slipping out of the camp. You’d better not be doing anything that’s going to cause me trouble, understand?’

Cato did not reply, but simply nodded, then gestured to Macro and they left the barracks and headed across the camp to headquarters.

‘I understand that Centurion Lurco has gone missing.’ Sinius cocked his head to one side as he regarded the two guardsmen standing in front of the desk in his office. ‘He’s nowhere to be found. The officer in charge of the watch on the main gate reports that he left the camp last night and he didn’t return. Can I take it that we need not expect to see him again?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Cato replied.

‘What happened to Lurco?’

Cato reached into his purse and drew out a small object and tossed it on to the desk where it landed with a soft thud. Centurion Sinius could not help briefly wrinkling his nose in distaste as he looked down at the severed finger, bearing the equestrian ring that belonged to Lurco. Cato watched his reaction closely. The finger had come from one of the fresher corpses washed out of the mouth of the Great Sewer. It had been short work to cut the finger off and ease Lurco’s ring into place. The combination would have a convincing effect, Cato had reasoned, and would carry more weight than the simple claim that he and Macro had murdered the commander of their century. Sinius lifted the finger up for closer inspection of the crest on the ring and after a brief silence he nodded in satisfaction and laid it back on the desk. He looked up at Cato.

‘Very good. I think you two may be the kind of men I can rely on after all. Your skills will be useful in the days to come. Very useful indeed.’

‘And what about our money, sir?’ asked Macro. ‘Capito said you’d pay us another thousand denarii as soon as the job was done.’

‘Of course there’s a reward. You don’t think that I would fail to honour our arrangement, I trust?’

‘Trust is something of a luxury in this world,’ Macro said. ‘You pay me and I trust you. But try to swindle me and you’ll end up joining Lurco … sir.’

The centurion glared at Macro and he spoke in a soft, chilling tone. ‘You dare to threaten me? You know damn well what the penalty is for threatening a superior officer.’

‘But at the moment you’re not a superior officer.’ Macro lifted his lip in a faint sneer. ‘You’re a fellow conspirator. Or, as some might think, a traitor. The only difference is that you think you’re doing it for lofty ideals, whereas Capito and me are doing it for money.’

Cato watched his friend closely. Macro was playing his part well, just as they had agreed during the time it had taken to make their way across the camp to headquarters. It was important that he and Macro had a credible motive for becoming involved in the conspiracy.

Sinius nodded slowly. ‘I see. Tell me, are neither of you prepared to act purely out of a sense of duty to Rome?’ He shifted his gaze to Cato. ‘What about you?’

Cato pursed his lips briefly. ‘It’s all very well to appeal to patriotism, sir, but the fact is that it makes precious little difference who runs the empire from the point of view of the likes of Calidus and me. Whether it’s Emperor Claudius in power or you and your friends makes no odds to the people of Rome, or to us soldiers.’ Cato paused. ‘As long as there’s an emperor, then there’s a Praetorian Guard, and we do well enough out of the pay and perks. If you’re planning to put your own man on the throne then we’re still in a job, and we’ll have picked up a nice little bonus for services rendered to you. However, if you’re planning on doing away with the emperors and handing power back to the senate, then we stand to lose out, unless we’re handsomely rewarded now. So, pardon me for looking out for number one. In any case, I don’t suppose for an instant that your lot won’t be passing up the chance to make your fortunes out of a change of regime. There are no pure motives in politics, are there, sir?’

‘Ha! What are you, Capito? A soldier, or a student of political affairs?’

Cato eased his shoulders back and stood erect. ‘I’m a soldier. One who has served long enough to know that his first loyalty is to himself and his comrades. The rest is merely eyewash for fools.’

There was a tense silence in the small office before Centurion Sinius smiled. ‘It’s reassuring to know that your only loyalty is to yourself. Men like you are a known quantity. As long as you are paid then you can be relied upon. Unless, of course, you encounter a more generous paymaster.’

‘True.’ Cato nodded. ‘Which is why you and your friends will see to it that we’re paid well if you want to keep us on your side. All the same, if you try to play any tricks on us, then I promise you won’t live long to regret it.’