was warn Caligula of Crassus’s treacherous mutterings.
Oh, the gods!
The general’s thinking in recent years had been that sitting tight and keeping his head down — waiting this madness out — was the clever strategic game to play. With his two legions permanently encamped a mere day’s march away from Rome, he was perfectly placed to sweep in and replace that insane fool the moment something happened to him.
And something inevitably would. Caligula was mentally unstable. Increasingly so. Believing himself to be a god, immortal… the crazy fool would end up either killing himself in some reckless chariot race to impress his people, or believing he could actually fly and stepping off a high wall. That or some desperate, starving citizen was going to get lucky with a slingshot or an arrow. Caligula’s insanity seemed to be approaching some sort of a feverish crescendo. As if he expected something truly world-changing to happen to him very soon.
But this news? These rumours…?
Gods help him if that exchange of correspondence between him and Crassus should fall into the emperor’s hands. Not participating in any conspiracy the old senator had been quietly organizing was not going to be enough to save him.
‘Sir?’
Lepidus looked up at his tribune.
‘We have to do something, sir. We could be next…?’
Caligula was going to have new heads on spikes all over the city by the first light of morning. And two of them might just be mine and his.
‘Atellus?’
‘Sir.’
‘I want every officer from both legions assembled in my quarters in half an hour!’
‘Yes, sir. What…?’
‘What do I plan to do?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I have no choice, do I? Crassus has made sure of that.’
He thought he saw a grim smile play across his tribune’s lips. ‘Yes. Atellus, I want the men ready to decamp.’
‘Sir… you are considering marching on Rome?’ Atellus hesitated. ‘Confronting Caligula?’
‘Of course I am!’
‘The men, sir… they may not take well to the idea.’
Atellus was quite right. The legions, officers and men’s allegiance was broadly with the emperor. His was the hand that fed them and fed them very well. Lepidus couldn’t be sure his men were going to be behind him. And should an order for his arrest arrive as well…
‘Might I make a suggestion, sir?’
‘Go on.’
‘Let them believe the Guard is moving against the emperor.’
Lepidus nodded slowly. Yes, of course.
‘Mobilize the men, sir. Let them believe we’re marching on Rome to protect Caligula from a palace coup. Tell them the emperor will reward them for their loyalty… that the Guard will be disgraced, disbanded as a result of this treachery.’
Yes… there’s no love lost there between the legions and the Guard.
‘Atellus… every officer in here in half an hour. Move!’
‘Yes, sir!’ The tribune saluted, turned on his heel and swept out of Lepidus’s private quarters.
By first light he was going to have both the Tenth and the Eleventh assembled and ready to march. However the next few days panned out… whether he was going to need to confront the Guard or not, whether he was going to attempt to move against Caligula or not, it would be better to be ready for it; to have his men in their armour and on their feet.
CHAPTER 54
AD 54, Rome
Crassus heard the banging on the large wooden gates to his courtyard. He topped up his cup with the last of his wine as he watched his slave, Tosca, hurry across the courtyard clutching a flickering oil lamp to answer the insistent knocking.
Here they come. He tipped the wine insistently down his throat. A little crimson courage.
Crassus knew his strengths and his weaknesses. He wasn’t a brave man. If he had an ounce of courage in him, he would have stood shoulder to shoulder with all the other senators who’d tried defying the emperor years ago.
Tonight he was going to try and make up for that.
The gates swung in and he saw the purple cloaks of a dozen Praetorian Guards sweeping in past his slave.
‘Master! Master!’ cried Tosca in a panic.
‘Marcus Cornelius Crassus!’ barked a centurion. ‘I have orders for your arrest!’
Crassus recognized the voice. Fronto.
Cato had given the arrest order to an officer he trusted to handle Crassus humanely, gently.
Thank you, Cato.
‘I am here,’ he said shakily, stepping out of the shadows beneath his portico. ‘Whatever is the matter?’
Fronto approached, flanked by his men. He adopted his best officious voice. ‘Marcus Cornelius Crassus, I have orders to escort you to the emperor’s palace. He wishes to speak to you!’
Crassus smiled calmly at Fronto. ‘At this time of night, Centurion? Is he lonely?’
Fronto worked to keep the flicker of a smile off his face. ‘Best come along immediately, sir.’
The old man nodded. ‘Yes, of course… can’t keep a god waiting, can I?’
Tosca hurried forward with a cloak for him. ‘Master! What is happening?’
Crassus patted his slave on the arm affectionately. ‘Nothing to worry about, Tosca, old friend. I shall be back for breakfast no doubt.’
‘Sir?’ said Fronto insistently.
‘Lock the door, Tosca,’ he said quietly. He turned to Fronto, fastening the cloak round his narrow shoulders with a clasp. ‘Centurion? I’m all yours.’
Caligula looked up from the small battle being fought between wooden figurines on the low table in front of him. He’d heard the clatter and jangle of armour, the slap of sandals on stone, all the way from the entrance hall.
‘Ahh… good evening, Crassus.’ He smiled coolly.
Crassus nodded politely as his escort of Praetorians came to a halt a couple of yards before the emperor. ‘Your divinity.’
‘Well… a curious thing happened earlier this evening. Would you like to know what it was?’
Crassus said nothing.
‘Oh? Not in the slightest bit curious?’
‘I suspect you plan to tell me anyway.’
Caligula grinned then frowned curiously. ‘Hmmm, that’s not like you, Crassus. You’re normally so… so meek.’ He leaned forward over his battlelines of miniature wooden legionaries and sniffed the air in front of the old man. ‘Been drinking, have we? A little anxious perhaps?’
‘I am working my way through the wine I have left. Before Rome falls into complete anarchy and is looted by the mob.’
‘ Tsk-tsk.’ Caligula shook his head. ‘I won’t let Rome fall into anarchy. Soon every citizen will be showered with wealth… with their very own casks of wine.’
