S.J.A. Turney - The Great Game

Perennis, behind the emperor’s shoulder, nodded approvingly at Rufinus. ‘I have to say, majesty,’ the prefect said calmly, ‘that I am inclined to trust young Rufinus’ word on this. I have noted increasingly erratic behaviour on the part of my colleague over the past two years, though it would have been unprofessional for me to have brought such to your attention without good reason.’

Commodus spun back, his eyes narrowing as he glared at his prefect, and then turned once again to Rufinus. ‘Would you swear to the truth of your testimony on the altar of Apollo?’

‘I would, majesty.’

Again, Commodus spun to look at Perennis. ‘Go find your counterpart and have him attend the temple of Apollo. I believe he is in the libraries.’

Perennis saluted and scurried off through the rear left door. As the portal shut behind him with a click, the emperor of Rome turned to Rufinus again, suddenly seeming to become aware of the two other guardsmen standing at his shoulders.

‘Thank you, men. You two have my gratitude for the part you played and your next wage will reflect my appreciation. You may return to your barracks.’

Mercator and Icarion saluted and gave their young friend an uncertain look as Commodus gestured for Rufinus to follow him, making for one of the side doors. As he passed through, the guards by the side saluting him, he waited with Rufinus at the far side until the door closed with a click, and began to saunter slowly through this new and highly decorated room.

They were alone.

Commodus put an arm around Rufinus and the young guardsman nearly pulled away. Such contact was unheard of… forbidden. The emperor smiled at him.

‘Pompeianus tells me as is his wont, for he is a creature of plain speech, that my court is a hotbed of intrigue and that serpents crawl and slither in my palace, hissing falsehoods in my ears. Such has always been the case, of course, even with the best of men in control.’

The golden-haired emperor slouched slightly, as a sparkle returned to his eye that Rufinus had not seen since the bath house of Vindobona’s fortress. ‘I could not in good conscience place myself up with those best of men, of course, and I simply do not have time to devote to the personal management of every aspect of empire. My father was one of the greatest rulers in the history of the world, and even he had to bring Verus to his side to help him rule. It is too big a job for one man, Rufinus.’

Rufinus nodded. He could hardly imagine the power and pressure the position must load upon a man. The image of the tired and pale Aurelius back in the hall at Vindobona sprang to mind.

Commodus smiled as he went on. ‘Perhaps someday a man will rise to the top and take a similar role with me as Verus had with my father. I had offered it to Pompeianus’ son and may yet do so, in time. I would, almost certainly, have considered Saoterus for the honour, but he would have had to have served in the army, the senate and attained a consulship first before I could realistically do so. Until such a time, those very snakes will have to continue to writhe in my chambers.’

He grinned, and all signs of the morose and tearful man had now gone. ‘It warms the heart to see that there is still honour and honesty in Rome, especially in the Praetorian Guard, given recent events.’

They had reached the far door and Commodus led him through it, into a wide garden surrounded by a delicate, beautiful portico. The sky was beginning to slip from cold blue to purple with the onset of night, and slaves scurried around lighting lamps and closing windows.

‘It would appear that I am indebted to you, guardsman Rufinus, to the tune of a life.’

Rufinus shook his head.

‘I know’ the emperor said with a smile, ‘It is the sole purpose of the Praetorian Guard to do that very thing, but it would be remiss of me to treat your actions as simple adherence to duty. Forgive my initial anger. Saoterus was my only true friend and his loss will… I will find it hard.’

He straightened and appeared to brush away another dark thought. ‘As I say: forgive my anger. In truth I have been told by both prefects what you have done and what you have suffered in the name of duty. Know that I am grateful. I will see another phalera medal added to that rather empty harness you own, and shall meet and exceed the financial reward that I plan for your comrades.’

Rufinus lowered his head, colour rising in his cheeks. ‘But more than that…’ the emperor added, as they strode through a side passage, out of a door and came face to face with the huge, imposing rear wall of the temple of Apollo. ‘If there were a boon you would ask of me, ask it now while you may and, if it is within my power, I will see it done.’

Rufinus’ heart jumped. For decades his family had lived in exile in Hispania, keeping clear of the wrath of emperors, knowing that they continued to exist only because Antoninus had died before completing his proscriptions. His father habitually sat late in his study, his face bitter and morose, poring over documents and images from his days of glory, dreaming of a return to Rome. One word to Commodus and Rufinus could do it. The old man could sit once more in the senate. One word…

‘No, majesty. I thank you sincerely, but I’m happy with my lot.’

Commodus pursed his lips and frowned for a moment, before straightening. ‘Come, then. Let us confront at least one of those serpents.’

Where Perennis had gone and how fast he had moved, Rufinus couldn’t imagine, but the prefects stood silent near the altar of the great temple of Apollo as Rufinus and the emperor entered. A priest busied himself at the rear, trying not to catch the eye of the Praetorians.

Rufinus swallowed nervously as he entered. He had nothing to profess but the truth, and no intention of falsity but, regardless, a vow on the altar of Apollo was no small matter. The weight of a God pressed down upon him, making him feel small, crushed beneath the power of this place. Commodus, conversely, seemed taller and all the more impressive here.

Curious.

All doubt and fear evaporated from Rufinus as his eyes fell upon the face of Paternus. Back on the frontier, they had called the prefect ‘The Vulture’ and the epithet had never suited him more than it did now. His drawn, pale features and pointed face were stark against the dark of his cloak and his decorative leather armour. One glance at his face was enough.

Rufinus felt the man’s stare stab into him and rake his soul. The look conveyed distrust, anger, disgust and hate. It was suddenly clear that Paternus had crossed the line so many times that he was nought but a shadow of Aurelius’ Praetorian Prefect and close friend.

Good.

Despite everything that had happened, now that it had come to levelling accusations at the man who had raised him from the rank and file, he had wavered. As he had entered this great temple, he’d begun to wonder if the man deserved a second chance.

But he’d had that second chance.

First Dis, and then Saoterus.

Commodus gestured to the altar. ‘Make your statement.’

Rufinus took a deep breath and strode across to the altar with a steady gait. He ignored the malicious glare of the older prefect and refused to meet his gaze. With a clear and expressive motion, he slapped his hand down on the cold marble of the altar.

‘In the sight of Apollo Palatinus, diviner of truth, lord of the sun, of healing, and of light, I give my word that I reported the presence of master Saoterus at the palace of the lady Lucilla as a side matter, clearly stating my opinion that he was there on official business and not in any way in a conspiratorial manner. I have not at any time listed him among the conspirators I identified in my time there.’