Instead of agreeing, this time I did notreply, mainly because I was not sure what he was talking about.
"Well, man?" He was clearly growingfrustrated, but I was no less so.
"Perhaps if you could expand on what you'retalking about, General?" I asked him mildly.
He did not speak for a moment; justcontinued staring at me, his expression hard. Finally, herelented.
"What I'm talking about," he bit the wordsoff, "is this nonsense that sees you being recalled to Rome becauseof what that fat idiot Primus did."
"Oh, that."
"Yes, that," he snapped. "Frankly, I'msurprised that you didn't come running in here, demanding myhelp."
I was somewhat chagrined that this had neveroccurred to me, but I had long since stopped counting on the helpof the upper classes. Still, I knew I could use every friend Icould find at this point.
"And, how would you be able to help me,exactly?" I asked cautiously, torn between wanting to know but notthinking there was any way to ask the question that could not betaken as an insult.
Fortunately, Norbanus was a better man thanthat.
"That's a good question," he admitted. "I'vebeen giving it some thought."
He reached across his desk to offer me ascroll, which I took and unrolled. It took me a moment to decipherbecause it had been some time since I had last seen hishandwriting, and Norbanus was an old Roman in every sense of theword, disdaining the use of the Caesar's dot to mark the end of asentence. Once I read it, I looked up at him in not a littlesurprise.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" I askedhim.
"Do what?" he said, sounding defensive to myears. "I'm not doing anything but telling the truth."
"That may be. But is it a truth thatAugustus wants to hear?"
The moment the name was out of my mouth,Norbanus' eyes began darting around the room and, despite the roomclearly being empty, I felt a chill before I banished thethought.
"Why wouldn't he want to hear the truth?"Norbanus said this a trifle more loudly than anything that camebefore, making me wonder why. "I'm trusted by the Princeps! Heknows I wouldn't say something that wasn't true. Besides," helowered his voice back to its previous level, "it's what my fatherwants me to do, though I don't have any idea why. As it is, I'vegot a lot to lose."
That, I had to acknowledge, was true, and Ilooked back at the scroll again. In it, Norbanus went into greatdetail about how both he and I had been informed by Marcus Primusthat he was acting under the express orders of Octavian. True asfar as it went, but Norbanus had gone much farther than that; hewent on to say that if I was to be considered culpable in thisunauthorized campaign into Thrace, then he, Norbanus, should bestanding next to me in court. It was an incredibly bold, and somewould say incredibly foolish thing to do. As I read it again, Ifelt a hard lump form in my throat, but I will admit that a part ofme was still very suspicious. I did not know the younger Norbanusthat well, and while his father and I had gotten over our rockystart regarding my relief of Natalis, we had not been especiallyclose either. Still, if this letter was sincere, I realized thatperhaps my situation was not as hopeless as it seemed. After all, Ireasoned, if a man I barely knew saw how unjust my situation was,perhaps there were others with similar influence that could helpme. I suppose that was when the first glimmering of an idea madeits presence known in my conscious mind.
As bleak as my personal situation seemed tobe, there were other developments that at least cheered the men ofMarcus Primus' ill-fated campaign. According to Diocles' sources inthe Praetorium, an acquaintanceship which he immediatelyrenewed on our return with an amphora of Falernian, word had comefrom Rome ordering that some of the money that Primus had extortedfrom the Thracians be used to pay the army bonuses, over and abovewhat they took from Naissus. Not surprisingly, this was widelycelebrated in the Legion streets of the camp, and the wine shopsand whorehouses of Siscia. I wished I could have shared in theirjoy at the news of these extra funds, most of which would stay inpossession of an individual Legionary for the time it took him topick up the purse from the Legion paymasters and walk into Siscia,whereupon it would almost inevitably change hands. I will admit Isometimes wondered if it would not just save a lot of trouble allthe way around if the paymasters just drove the wagons with thebounty straight into whatever town was nearby, and just starthanding the civilians the bags of coin. Conspicuously absent inthose orders, at least as far as I was concerned, was the sharedesignated for the senior officers of the army, although I will saythat I was pleased to see that Flavianus and the Tribunes weretaken care of, quite well, actually. But, I remember thinkingbitterly, those men are all highborn, and if there is one truththat I believe is absolute at this point, it is that the nobilityalways takes care of others of their own class before anythingelse.
Two days after the army of Marcus Primus hadarrived in Siscia, I spent my last night in my own quarters beforesetting out for Rome. Without knowing exactly what to expect, I wasonly bringing Diocles with me. Gaius offered to arrange to takeleave to accompany me, but I absolutely forbade it; I had just madesure that Gaius' claim for a corona murales was goingto be ratified by Norbanus. Although that was still not an absoluteguarantee that it would be accepted, theoretically by the facelessbureaucrats and clerks who had taken over a whole wing of what wasnow Octavian's palace, which we all knew was a fiction, it wouldhave been an enormous slap in the face, not to me, but to Norbanus.Nevertheless, until he wore the crown on his head, made of gold andshaped like a crenellated wall, I was not about to allow him
