just arrived in Alexandria to gather his forces for the response to the unrest in Judaea. Vespasian blamed the rebellion on the incompetence of the previous commanders, who had embarked on a campaign of brutality and military ineptness which first enraged and then encouraged the citizens of the province.
‘They have a taste for Roman blood now,’ Titus said. ‘Between them Florus, the Judaean procurator, and Gallus, the propraetor, managed to lose the best part of the Third Gallica when they became trapped in the palace at Jerusalem. They should have chopped off the head of the snake then and there, but they waited too long. When they did counter-attack, Gallus was too timid and the Twelfth Fulminata lost their eagle in the retreat. Now my father is preparing to retake the province and I am to be his aide. You were fortunate that I was exercising my Numidians when they came across your young tribune. It is remarkable that he survived so long.’
Valerius smiled. ‘He is a remarkable young man.’
‘I have already dispatched a courier to Alexandria with news that the lady Domitia is safe, and my father will send word direct to Antioch. General Corbulo will be relieved to hear the news. Now I must escort you to my father. He will be very interested to hear your story.’
They rode on in silence and at a sedate pace suitable for Domitia’s camel-borne litter, which was further down the column. Valerius had seen little of the general’s daughter since the rescue, other than an uninterested exchange of glances as they ate with Titus on the evening before their departure from the beach. The night they had shared seemed unreal now, a true moment of madness that could never, should never, be repeated. Yet he still felt himself drawn to her in a way that went beyond the first shock of the physical.
A rider galloped up with a message for Titus. The general’s son thanked the trooper and turned to Valerius. ‘The lady Domitia Longina passes on her thanks for your efforts in keeping her alive and hopes to give them personally once she has recovered from her injuries. She too is remarkable. I have been impressed by her resilience. She seems more upset by the loss of a slave than by anything she has suffered herself. A rare combination of beauty, courage, virtue and devotion, don’t you think?’ Valerius started at the word ‘virtue’, but there didn’t seem to be any hidden meaning in the young soldier’s words. He almost missed what Titus said next. ‘Lucius is a very fortunate man.’
Titus noticed his incomprehension. ‘Her betrothed. Lucius Aelius Lamia. We served together in Germania. She tells me they are to be married when she returns from her visit to her father.’
Valerius felt as though someone had hit him with a hammer. Why hadn’t she told him? He should have been jealous, or angry. But the truth was his only emotions were relief and a sense of release. Would it have made any difference if he had known? Probably not. But now he knew it would never happen again.
‘Yes. He is a very fortunate man.’
XIX
The Elder Titus Flavius Vespasian had set up his headquarters in an annexe of one of the royal palaces close to Alexandria’s harbour. Staff officers and couriers came and went with the flurried regularity of ants from an anthill, beneath giant fans which shifted the overheated air in the great marble hall, but barely cooled it. At the centre of a sweating mass of clerks the red-faced general barked his orders and demanded up to date information.
‘How many ships do we have to transport the two legions and their auxiliaries from Alexandria to Ptolemais?’ The answer patently didn’t please him. ‘Not enough, but it will have to do. We had two thousand transports when Claudius invaded Britain, but we were landing on a hostile shore. Unless the rebels decide to invade Syria this will be different.’
Valerius stood with Titus while an aide interrupted the general to announce their presence.
Vespasian barely paused between sentences and waved Titus towards a nearby doorway. ‘His private apartments,’ the young soldier whispered. Valerius hesitated, but Titus ushered him forward. ‘He will want to hear what you have to say.’
The general’s offices were in a sumptuous corner room with a view of the harbour and they only had to wait a few minutes before Vespasian bustled in. He was in his late fifties, with the substantial belly that came with success and middle age, a fine nose and a grim-set mouth in a face that had long forgotten how to smile. Only in the eyes and the youthful energy was there a hint of the man he had once been, and Titus now was. The two young men saluted, Valerius rapping his wooden fist against the leather breastplate of his borrowed uniform, but the general ignored them as he took his seat behind a desk of pale marble.
‘Wine,’ he shouted. Seconds later the servant who had been hovering behind a nearby screen appeared with a jug and three embossed silver cups. Titus waved him away and poured the wine, which was white and surprisingly cool. Valerius’s lips barely touched the rim of his cup, but the general took a deep draught and sighed with pleasure.
‘Annius has been recalled to Rome, so I want you to take temporary command of the Fifth Macedonica until Corbulo can send us Marcus Bolanus,’ Vespasian told his son.
Valerius saw Titus’s face harden, an unusual reaction for a soldier who had just been given an appointment for which other men might wait a lifetime. ‘That means…’ The young man recognized his father’s warning glance and kept the rest of his thoughts to himself, but Valerius could guess what they were. Annius Vinicianus was not only the legate of the Fifth Macedonica but Domitia’s brother-in-law, the husband of General Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo’s eldest daughter. His recall might have some innocent purpose, but at a time when the Empire’s very foundations were still shaking from the effects of Piso’s conspiracy it could just as easily result in arrest, torture and death.
‘Whatever it means is between Annius and the Emperor,’ Vespasian said firmly. ‘We have a war to prepare for. I can’t ignore politics, but I will not let them divert me from my main purpose. We must be ready to move as soon as possible.’
He paused and stared at his desk. When he looked up it was as if he was seeing Valerius for the first time. ‘And you are the young man who saved Corbulo’s daughter?’
Valerius straightened. ‘Sir!’
‘Then I must commend you, although I’m not certain what her father will make of shipwreck and pirates.’ He shook his head at the thought. ‘His notions of discipline are somewhat different from mine.’ The tone changed and Vespasian’s eyes narrowed. ‘Verrens? You are to be his second in command?’ Valerius nodded.
Vespasian glanced at his son. ‘Leave us.’ Titus hesitated, with a look of puzzlement at Valerius, before he walked from the room. When they were alone, the general rubbed his hand across his forehead and let out a long breath.
‘First, you should be aware that I know of your secondary commission from the Palatium.’ Valerius’s head came up with a snap, but Vespasian raised a hand before he could speak. ‘Do not deny it. Let it be sufficient that I know, and that if I know, General Corbulo also knows. Second, let me say that I need Corbulo. No, let me go further. The Empire needs Corbulo in command of the Armies of the East.’
Vespasian walked to a large table over which was laid a map of the eastern Mare Nostrum from Cappadocia in the north to Egypt and Africa in the south.
‘Here, Judaea.’ He pointed to an area in the centre of the map. ‘Lost to Rome for the moment thanks to those fools Florus and Gallus. Better that the pair of them had fallen on their swords, but they do not have the wit even to do that. A rat’s nest of rebels from Galilee in the north to Jerusalem and Masada in the south. Fortress cities on the coast at Caesarea, Jotapata and Ashkelon, now in Jewish hands, and Roman bones bleaching in the streets of all of them. I will restore Judaea to Rome, with Corbulo’s help, but what Rome will not currently recognize…’ Valerius listened with ice water in his veins. If Vespasian knew of his mission why was he being told this? The general read his expression and the thin lips came as close as Valerius guessed they ever would to a smile. ‘… and what I cannot change is that General Corbulo has problems of his own in Parthia, where he believes King Vologases is ready to take advantage of his brother Tiridates’ absence to return Armenia to Parthian rule. Corbulo knows how much a Parthian’s word is worth. When he was given command in the east it was clear that if Parthia controlled Armenia she would quickly become a threat to both Cappadocia and Syria. Vologases’ ambitions have remained unchanged for ten years. Corbulo recognized that when he crossed the Euphrates and took three legions into the very heart of Armenia, stormed three of Tiridates’ fortresses in a single day and went on to burn his capital at Artaxata. Armenia remained under Roman rule for four years before Parthian treachery obliged him to intervene again. Corbulo forced
