"Of all the things, the one we didn't needwas an opportunity for your head to get any bigger," was Diocles'final word on the subject.
We reached Tibur. It was a day short of twoweeks after we had departed Siscia, and while we could have pressedon for the twenty more miles to Rome, we stopped there.
"This must be where the patricians andhighly-ranked plebeians come to get away from Rome," Dioclesmused.
I knew we were gawking like two country boyswith the manure still fresh on our boots, but it is quite a sight.Large estates, with villas even larger than the one in which Miriamand I had stayed during our time in Damascus, each one seemed to besurrounded by stunning well-maintained parks, complete withfountains and statues. It seemed as if the last two or three mileswe rode, we would no sooner pass one such estate, which we weresure was the finest example we had seen, only to be forced torevise our opinions when some new extravagant building appeared.One thing I had noticed; much like the other times, the closer wedrew to Rome the more crowded the roads became. The difference inthe traffic was its composition; there were too many litters tocount, and these conveyances were an impressive enough sight ontheir own. Most of them were borne by eight men, two on each sidefront and back, but we saw more than one that needed twelve men,and in fact looked like small houses moving along. There werenumerous carriages, almost every one of them covered, with clothscreens so the upper classes would not be subjected to theunpleasant sights of normal people doing their daily jobs, orslaves being whipped in a field. Not surprisingly, the price ofaccommodation was correspondingly higher, but the quality of thelodgings reflected that. Neither Diocles nor I were in much mood totalk, but in a crowded dining area of an inn, it is impossible toavoid. Not helping was that the talk was of little else than theupcoming trial of Marcus Primus. Just listening to theconversations, it appeared that the consensus was that Primus wasin real trouble, but what appeared to interest people more was whyhe found himself in the predicament that he did.
"I heard that he got caught diddling LiviaDrusilla," was one of the more memorable ideas we heard.
But it was something a richly attired manwith a look of the kind of prosperity that comes from being wellplaced and in favor with powerful men that stuck with me.
"I suspect that Primus overheard somethingthat he either wasn't supposed to hear or was told not todivulge."
At that point, this seemed to me the mostlikely; my belief was that Primus had somehow learned about thegold at Serdica and ignored Octavian's demand that it remainsecret. After we finished our meal and retired to our room, Dioclesand I discussed what we had heard. I had paid for a room reservedfor those who wanted privacy and could afford to pay for it, so itwas just Diocles and me, sitting on our beds. As usual, my mindtook the more pessimistic turn, naturally assuming that Primus’ andmy fates were intertwined. Diocles did not see it that way.
"I'm actually hopeful," was how he put it."Because how many times did you hear your name mentioned?"
"Not many," I was forced to admit, and itwas true.
The times my name came up, it had beenmerely a piece of information, as one man told another that I hadbeen the second in command. Nothing was said about my role, or thatI was even implicated.
"If Augustus is planning on doing somethingto you, I'm almost positive that he would have let that be known,as an example."
While this made sense, I felt compelled topoint out, "Or, he's afraid of the reaction of the other CampPrefects and Legions and wants to keep it a secret."
Diocles' lips tightened in an expression Iknew from experience meant that I was trying his patience with mypessimism.
"I don't think so," he insisted.
"Well, there's only one way to find out," Ireplied. "And I suppose I'll get an idea tomorrow."
With that, we retired for the evening. I donot know how well Diocles slept, but I know I did not.
When we arrived at Rome for what would turnout to be the last time I ever saw the city, we entered by thePorta Tiburtina, and I was impressed by the new aqueduct that addedto the two already standing.
"I think Agrippa built that." I pointed itout to Diocles as we approached the gate, pulling up behind aheavily loaded wagon, and my eye was caught by something else."What's going on now?" I wondered, as it seemed to take aninordinately long time for the wagon to be waved through.
Another thing that seemed odd was the numberof men arrayed around the gate, and when the wagon was finallywaved through and it was our turn, I had the chance to examine themmore closely. Do not mistake me; there have always been guards atthe gates, but it had always been more haphazard in not just theirappearance but their performance. These men were wearing leathercuirasses and Legionary helmets, but that was where the resemblanceended, at least if eyed by a professional. They also carried theSpanish sword, but I instantly saw that their handles showed verylittle wear. Frankly, while they presented a uniform andprofessional appearance, once one got up close, they were a motleycollection of youngsters and old men.
"State your business, citizen." The manspeaking had not bothered to look up from tallying something in awax tablet, something else that was new from my last visit,although I immediately and easily understood this was somethingthat Octavian had instituted.
When I did not immediately answer, hesnapped, "We don't have all day! Are you blind? Can't you see aline behind you?"
He did not look up from his writing untilthe last words were out of his throat, and he was greeted by thesight of me staring down coldly at him. This day I had chosen toenter the city in full uniform, with all my decorations thatDiocles had polished to dazzling perfection, and
