brought an end to his commendable initiative.'
Valerian sat brooding for some moments.
'Our edict of last year has been widely ignored or flouted. This cannot continue. Our patience is at an end.' The heavy face turned to survey the whole room. 'We have drafted a new edict. It will be imposed across all the imperium, both here in the east, and in the west, where my son Gallienus commands. It will have the full weight of the law and the swords of the army behind it. There are three areas especially where we are led to believe these evil-doers swarm like flies: Africa, Hispania, and the Provincia of Asia.
'That is why I am sending Galerius Maximus' – he pointed at the senator whom Ballista had seen outside, the one who had had the terrible coughing fit, 'to govern Africa Proconsularis.' Again, the imperial finger pointed, 'Aemilianus here will go to Hispania Citerior.
'The case is different in the Provincia of Asia. There, the pro-consular governor, Nicomachus Julianus, already has much on his hands. Any day, the barbarians from the Black Sea – the Goths, the Borani, the Heruli, whatever the Scythians call themselves now – may strike again from the water. I have issued mandata ordering the governor to make it his especial duty to see to the safety of his province, to see to the defences of the coast, the islands, and the cities.' Again the imperial hand pointed. 'Which is why I am appointing you, Marcus Clodius Ballista, his deputy. Your brief is to travel to the provincial capital Ephesus and see to the rigorous – the most rigorous – persecution of the Christians. Of course it is an exceptional honour for an equestrian to act as vicarius to a pro-consular governor, let alone that of the Provincia of Asia.' There was a carefully judged pause, just the right length to give Ballista time to bow his head in thanks.
'Let no one think that this is a matter of anything other than the greatest importance. The rapacious barbarians who surround us – Sassanids to the east, Moors and Blemmyes to the south, Goths, Sarmatians, Alamanni, Vandals, Franks, Saxons in the north – only pose a threat because of these sacrilegious Christians.' The imperial chin lifted, Valerian's voice rang out in fine oratorical style.
'What can a ferocious barbarian do on his own? He can kill and burn along the frontiers. But he can never strike at the heart of the imperium. And what is the heart of our imperium?' Valerian let the question hang. His gaze steadily traversed the chamber.
'Pax Deorum – the peace between gods and man – Pax Deorum. For over a thousand years we have done our duty by the gods. For over a thousand years the gods have held the imperium safe in their hands. All that has gone wrong in the last generation – the plagues, the usurpers, the mutinous troops, the endless inroads of the barbarians, the death of the emperor Decius, cut down by the savage blades of the Goths, above all, the insufferable arrogance of Shapur the Sassanid, who threatens our empire from the east – all of it has been caused by the sacrilege of these Christians. The arrogant fools claim that only their nameless god exists. The blind fools claim either that our gods do not exist or that they are mere evil daemons. No wonder the gods withdraw from us, turn their favour elsewhere, if we allow such things to be said. No more! The Christians will sacrifice or die!'
There was silence. The emperor's words seemed to echo back from the great beams of the roof.
After due time to deliberate the imperial words, Galerius Maximus, the most senior senator in the consilium, rose to his feet. With stately orotundity, he praised the emperor's piety and wisdom: success in war was in the hands of the gods. War loomed with the Sassanids; if the imperium did not end the Christian atheism, Syria, Egypt, Asia – maybe much more – would be lost to oriental despotism.
Ballista composed his face into what he hoped was a look of reverend attention. In his mind were questions, questions. Why had Valerian chosen him to impose the persecution in Ephesus? True, Christians had betrayed Arete, so Ballista might be thought to have more reason than most to hate them. But why choose a military man with next to no experience of civil government? Why choose an equestrian of barbarian birth? A man who had been out of favour for more than a year? And, more disturbingly, why had Macrianus supported his appointment? The Comes Sacrarum Largitionum was said to be ever more influential with the elderly, ever more indecisive Valerian. Had Macrianus even instigated the appointment? Why? One or both of Macrianus' sons had tried to kill Ballista, he was sure of that. But even setting that aside, whether Macrianus was party to that or not, he had always been an opponent of Ballista at court. What dark, devious game was the sinister, lame one playing?
XIV
Lucius Calpurnius Piso Censorinus, Princeps Peregrinorum, commander of the frumentarii and hence one of the most feared men in the imperium, sighed and put down the children's book. He ran a hand over his face. He was tired, and it was not going well. He rose and went over to the window. Outside, the late-afternoon sun was slanting down through the fruit trees. A patrician Censorinus had been close to had once said to him that the true test of a man's humanitas was his appreciation of a garden. Censorinus made a positive effort to appreciate the patterns of light and shade as the zephyr moved through the orchard between the imperial palace and the hippodrome. He had a retentive memory. He had filed away that opinion and been grateful. Of course, it had not stopped him informing against the patrician.
There was a quiet knock at the door. Unhurriedly, Censorinus checked that the concealed door that led down to the cellars of the palace was shut. Then he returned to his desk, put some papers over the book he had been reading, and said, 'Enter.' The frumentarius who came in was wearing dark civilian clothes. He was an unexceptional-looking man – all the best frumentarii were.
'Marcus Clodius Ballista has chosen you to accompany him to Ephesus as a scribe.'
'Yesh, Dominus.'
'This will be the third time that you have served with him.'
'Yesh, Dominus.'
'I have looked at your reports.' Censorinus vaguely indicated the wall of overflowing pigeonholes behind his desk. 'Your reports from Arete were most uncomplimentary. But those from the Circesium campaign contained much praise.'
The frumentarius, who had been slouching in a commendably unmilitary fashion, drew himself up a little straighter. 'I report things as I shee them.' Censorinus noted that the frumentarius had still not been able to completely lose his North African accent, the occasional 's' still being pronounced as 'sh'.
'What more could one ask?' Censorinus ventured a brief smile. 'In the imperial consilium earlier today Ballista said he knew no more of Christians that what one finds in Tacitus and the younger Pliny.' The Princeps Peregrinorum spoke as if he were often in the habit of reading their works. 'A report indicates that he may have been somewhat economical with the truth. Last year, here in Antioch, he was seen listening to a Christian preacher in the street known as the Jawbone. We expect extra vigilance from you, Hannibal.'
'Yesh, Dominus.'
After the man had gone, Censorinus remained at his desk. His eyes unfocused, he let his thoughts probe at the appointment of the new Vicarius to the Proconsul of Asia. Although the young patrician Gaius Acilius Glabrio had taken almost all the credit, Ballista had done well at Circesium. The northerner was not without backers at court: the generals Tacitus and Aurelian were close friends of his; the ab Admissionibus Cledonius seemed well disposed; so, too, the praetorian prefect Successianus. But Ballista had been out of the emperor's favour for over a year. He had never before served in a purely civilian post. It had been a big surprise when Macrianus had strongly championed his appointment. Since the fracas in the courtyard on Ballista's return from Arete, the Comes Largitionum had consistently exerted his considerable influence to the detriment of the northerner. It was quite probable that Macrianus' sons, Quietus and Macrianus the Younger, had been behind the three attempts to assassinate Ballista. So why should Macrianus now want Ballista to persecute Christians in Ephesus?
Censorinus felt a small stab of pleasure as his thoughts scouted the mystery. Ferreting out secrets was something he was good at. It was a talent that had taken him a long way. He allowed himself a few moments of self-satisfaction. He had travelled a long path indeed from the dye works in Bononia where he had been brought up. He had escaped from the great stinking vats of stale urine to enlist as a legionary in Legio II Italica in Noricum, up on the Danube. Promotion had followed swiftly. He had quickly been made a speculator. Only four years in the scouts, and he had been commissioned a centurion in the frumentarii. Five years, and a well-timed act of betrayal had brought him command of the imperial secret service. He had no intention of stopping there. Had not the great Marcus Oclatinius Adventus, Princeps Peregrinorum under the divine Septimius Severus, been offered the throne
