‘Bein’ a proconsul is a sure way to make a mint, lad, but this Vegetius I was talking about was another case altogether. He would steal your eyes then come back for the holes and having a province that was not at peace suited him just fine ’cause he could justify more taxes for defence. Mind, he pocketed that then charged the farmers and mine owners for soldiers to protect them.’
He had charged them for fieldworks and irrigation schemes as well, ending up with a legion that was better trained for labouring than fighting, but Flaccus decided to leave that out too.
‘When the commission arrived it was led by a real soldier’s soldier, Aulus Cornelius Macedonicus, and he was a man who hated corruption. Easy for him mind, he was the richest man in Rome after he conquered Macedonia.’
‘Where’s Macedonia?’
‘Do you know where Greece is, lad?’
‘No.’
‘Then there ain’t much point in trying to tell you where Macedonia is, and that don’t matter anyway. This Aulus made Vegetius shake in his boots, stopped all the little swindles the governor was up to, got the legions out after the rebels and had the whole place at peace in three months.’
‘I really only care how Clodius died.’
‘I’m comin’ to that, boy, but it don’t make sense if’n you don’t know what led up to what happened.’
Flaccus related how, after the news came of a revolt to the south, Aulus had sent him off in command of a cohort to reconnoitre the ground. For the ex-centurion this was a painful segment to recall; not only had they watched Roman soldiers and another proconsul called Publius Trebonius being hacked to death by rebels, that was the night he and Clodius had come close to getting their hands on Publius’s treasury, in a wagon well away from the place where the killing was taking place. Close, but not close enough. They had emptied the strongbox and buried the gold but when they returned the next day, with Aulus Cornelius leading in person, the sacks they had taken and buried, a mint of money, had disappeared. All they found was a heap of hacked-about Roman bodies.
‘Yet Aulus was not content. Said it weren’t right so south and south we went, running if you don’t mind, with the general out in front, though we stopped when we saw what we were going to have to fight. Turned out we was facing an army, not a band of rebels, thousands of the sods, Illyrians and Dacians from over the border, all heading north, so Aulus Cornelius decided to fall back and hold the pass at Thralaxas. Then he sent me back to bring up more soldiers. Trouble was that slimy bastard Vegetius Flaminus wasn’t havin’ any of it and with Aulus Cornelius out ahead with the advanced guard there was no one to give him orders.’
That was an uncomfortable memory for Flaccus, the recollection of his standing before Vegetius, filthy, tired and hungry, while the governor quaffed wine and ate grapes, certain in the knowledge that there was nothing he could say or do to effect any change in the man’s intentions.
‘The men that Aulus had couldn’t hold the place, not enough of ’em, and Vegetius knew that, so he was as good as condemning them to death. So, when no reinforcements appeared, they fought a delaying action then got off as many as could still run. Clodius weren’t one of them, nor was the great Macedonicus and death was the price they paid. Hard to know whether the general was a fool or not, lad.’
Flaccus was sitting up now, while a glum Aquila was slumped by the window, with his back to the damp wall, the spear and Minca by his feet. ‘He relied on another man to do his duty. Vegetius didn’t, and they all died for it.’
‘Will this Vegetius be punished?’
Flaccus laughed softly. ‘Punished. He’s been voted a triumph from what I’ve heard, lad, with the thanks of the Senate. Shouldn’t have been, mind. He didn’t kill enough Dacians to warrant the award, so the bastard slaughtered a few thousand of the Illyrian locals and called them Dacians to make up the numbers. Made himself a lot of money into the bargain. Those he didn’t kill he sold into slavery.’
‘Perhaps I should kill this Vegetius.’
‘I’d wait till you’re a bit older. For now, till your fields and breed youngsters of your own.’
‘I don’t till fields!’ said Aquila sharply.
‘What the hell d’you do then?’
‘I do what I like. It was no part of the bargain that I should work in Dabo’s fields.’
‘That won’t last, then. Your Papa’s dead.’
Aquila’s hand rubbed the leather amulet on his right arm, a constant reminder of the circumstances of his birth. ‘I told you, he’s not my real father.’
‘Makes no difference to me, lad. Now I’m tired, so why don’t you take your dog off to bed and let me get some sleep.’
‘What age can I join the legions?’
Flaccus yawned and stretched, before lying back down on his cot. ‘You’ve got a few years yet. Time to get yourself enough property to qualify. Maybe they’ll call on Dabo again.’
‘I’m not staying here.’
Flaccus yawned. ‘Then go away.’
‘I heard one of your men say you’re going to Sicily.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Will you take me with you?’
‘Not on your life. Now piss off.’
‘I’m not responsible for money Clodius Terentius lost gamblin’,’ Dabo insisted.
Flaccus gave him a wolfish grin. ‘The person I played dice with was listed in the century roll as Piscius Dabo.’
‘So what?’
‘So that’s the fellow who lost and owes me money.’
Dabo stood up and banged his fist on the table, then walked towards the window where he could see Flaccus’s men saddling their horses in the early morning light. ‘I’ve had enough of this. You come barging in here like bandits, helping yourselves to my food, my oats, my water and my wine, without even so much as a copper ass offered in payment. Then you have the damn cheek to ask me to pay that numskull Clodius’s debts.’
‘Someone has to pay ’em and since you have the right handle I reckon it’s you.’
‘Well I’m damned if I know how I’m to do it.’
‘Perhaps if we re-light the fire and strap you to the same spit we roasted that pig on last night you’ll think of a way.’
Dabo saw Aquila emerge from the byre. He stood watching Flaccus’s men, the dog by his side. ‘You got as much chance of getting coin out of me as you have out of Clodius.’
Flaccus had stood up, unseen by Dabo, and walked up behind him. He grabbed the farmer’s shoulders and spun him round, pinning him against the wall by the throat. ‘Is that right?’
‘I’ve got no coin,’ croaked Dabo. ‘Even if I wanted to pay you, I can’t.’
Flaccus banged Dabo’s head painfully against the wall. ‘You shit. You send another man to do your duty then sit here getting fat while the vultures feed off his gizzard. What did you shell out for that, a few vegetables and some corn, with the odd suggestion that a wife with a husband so far away might like another to warm her bed?’
Dabo was looking at him wide-eyed, mostly due to pain, but partly wondering how he knew about the suggestions he had made to Fulmina. ‘The boy told me all about you, Dabo. I don’t think you deserve to live.’
‘The boy. Take the boy,’ Dabo gasped.
‘What do I want with a lad like him?’
‘He’s good at hunting. Put him near a forest and you’ll never be without meat in your pot.’
‘I’ll have as much meat as I like, shit!’
‘Then put him to work in the fields. He’s mine now, as good as my own son. I’ll flog you him in debt bondage. Then you can do with him what you like. Sell him to a Greek brothel for all I care. With that hair he’ll fetch a mint.’
Flaccus rammed Dabo’s head against the wall again and the farmer’s eyes and mouth opened wide with the pain. ‘Killing you would be a pleasure, but I don’t think you’re worth the trouble it would cause me. You’d best thank the Gods I asked a lot of people how to get here. If I’d not provided so many witnesses to who I was after, I’d
