‘About my daughter. Is there any news of her?’
‘Pergilla, wasn’t it? Yes, I’m still trying to persuade the Emperor to grant her freedom. These things take time. You keep your end of the bargain and I’ll do all I can for her.’ Narcissus waved his hand. ‘Now leave us.’
Spurius hurried out and Narcissus waited until the sound of footsteps faded and the door at the far end of the linking room closed behind the innkeeper.
‘He’s a good and faithful servant, but he can be rather demanding at times. Anyway, enough of him!’ Narcissus leant forward and nodded at the jar. ‘Macro, why don’t you pour us all a drink. We should celebrate this reunion of old friends.’
Macro shook his head. ‘The last thing you are is a friend of mine.’
Narcissus stared at him for a moment and then nodded. ‘Very well then, Centurion. I’ll do the honours.’ He leant forward, pulled out the stopper and poured a dark red wine into each of the cups. Then he set the jar down and raised his cup. ‘At least join me in a toast … Death to the enemies of the Emperor.’
Macro had been looking longingly at the wine and with only a brief show of reluctance he picked up the nearest of the cups and repeated the toast. He took a sip and made an appreciative noise. ‘So this is what that tight bastard Spurius has been keeping back from us.’
‘You’ve not been entertained well then, I take it?’ asked Narcissus. ‘Spurius was instructed to make you comfortable.’
‘He did his best,’ said Cato. If the innkeeper was to be believed then he had not been compensated for the imposition of two guests for as many months. Moreover, if Narcissus was using Spurius’s daughter to enforce his will on the innkeeper, Cato was not going to add to the man’s problems. ‘We were given a clean room and fed regularly. Spurius has served you well.’
‘I suppose he has.’ Narcissus glanced at Macro’s surprised expression and then cocked an eyebrow. ‘Though you don’t appear to agree that he has served
‘We’re soldiers,’ Macro replied. ‘We are used to worse.’
‘So you are. And it is time for you to serve Rome once more.’ Narcissus took a small mouthful of wine and licked his lips. ‘Falernian. Spurius is trying to impress!’
‘I imagine you will be in a hurry to return to the palace,’ said Cato. ‘Best that we get straight to business.’
‘How considerate of you, young Cato,’ Narcissus responded in an icy tone. He set his cup down with a sharp rap. ‘Very well. You recall our last meeting?’
‘On Capreae, yes.’
‘I raised the matter of a new threat posed by the Liberators. Those scum will never rest until the Emperor is disposed of. Naturally, they claim to act in the interests of the senate and people of Rome, but in reality they will plunge Rome back into the dark age of tyrants like Sulla and Marius. The senate would be riven by factions fighting for power. We’d have a civil war on our hands within months of the fall of Claudius.’ Narcissus paused for a moment. ‘The senate had its uses in an age before Rome acquired an empire. Now, only a supreme authority can provide the order that is needed. The fact is that the senators cannot be trusted with the safety and security of Rome.’
Cato laughed drily. ‘And you can be, I suppose.’
Narcissus was silent for a moment, his narrow nostrils flared with disdain. Then he nodded. ‘Yes. I, and those who serve me, are all that stand between order and bloody chaos.’
‘That may be true,’ Cato conceded, ‘but the fact is that the order you claim to protect is almost as bloody from time to time.’
‘There is a price to pay for order. Do you really think peace and prosperity can be maintained without the shedding of a modicum of blood? You two soldiers, of all people, must know that. But what you don’t know is that the wars you wage for Rome don’t end when the battles are over. There is another battlefield, far from the frontier, that goes on, never ending, and that is the fight for order. That is the war that I wage. My enemies are not screaming barbarians. They are smooth-talking creatures lurking in the shadows who seek personal power at the expense of the public good. They may dress their base ambitions up in the robes of principle, but believe me there is no evil they would not countenance to achieve their ends. That is why Rome needs me, and why she needs you. Men like us are her only hope for survival.’ Narcissus paused and helped himself to some more wine, and licked his lips.
‘It’s funny,’ said Cato. ‘When other men act out of self-interest you call it evil. When we do it, we’re patriots.’
‘That is because our cause is just. Theirs is not.’
‘A difference of perspective.’
‘Don’t dignify our enemies with your philosophical abstractions, Cato. Just ask yourself whose Rome you would prefer to live in. Ours, or theirs?’
Macro clicked his tongue. ‘He has a point.’
‘There!’ Narcissus beamed. ‘Even Centurion Macro can see the sense of what I say.’
Macro frowned and cocked an eyebrow. ‘
Narcissus gave a light laugh and topped up Macro’s cup. ‘I meant no offence. Just to say that the right and wrong of it is abundantly clear to a man of action, such as yourself.’
While Macro reflected on this the imperial secretary moved on hastily. ‘In any case, Cato, there is really very little choice in the matter. While I respect your right to express an opinion, however poorly thought through, you have to do as I say, if you and Macro want to advance your careers, and especially if you want to marry that rather nice daughter of Senator Sempronius.’
Cato lowered his head and slowly ran his fingers through the dark curls of his unkempt hair. Narcissus had them exactly where he wanted them. More than anything, he and Macro wanted to return to the army. Cato needed a promotion that would carry with it membership of the equestrian class. Only that would make his marriage into the family of a senator acceptable.
‘Well, lad,’ Macro interrupted his chain of thought. ‘What about it? Anything to get us out of this place. Besides, it can’t be too bad a job. Nothing more dangerous then we’ve faced already, surely?’
Narcissus pursed his lips but did not say anything.
With a weary sigh Cato raised his head and looked directly at the imperial secretary. ‘What do you want us to do?’
Narcissus smiled slowly, with the air of a man accustomed to having his way. ‘I’ll begin by explaining something of the background to the situation.’ He leant back and folded his fingers together. ‘As you already know, the regime was nearly brought down by the conspiracies perpetrated by Messalina. That woman was pure poison. There was no debauchery that was beneath her. The only thing that matched her wanton lack of morals was her ambition. She knew exactly how to wrap Claudius round her finger. Not only him, but many others, including one of the Emperor’s other advisers, Polybius.’
‘I know the name,’ said Cato. ‘Didn’t he commit suicide?’
‘That’s what he was ordered to do. In the Emperor’s name. There wasn’t even time to appeal to Claudius before he was visited by some Praetorian guardsmen who rather pressed the issue.’
‘Murdered?’
‘The line between murder, execution and suicide has become a little blurred in recent years. Death, one way or another, resolves a political difficulty, or a desire for revenge, or simply comes on a whim from those with the authority to order it. Which is why Messallina could not be permitted to remain in a position where she could exert more influence over the Emperor than his closest advisers. So when she decided to use the Emperor’s absence from Rome to divorce him, marry her lover and then seize power, we had to act. Claudius was here in Ostia, to inspect the progress of the harbour development. That’s when the news reached me. I could see the imminent danger clearly enough and spoke to those who were closest to the Emperor, Callistus and Pallas. It took all our powers of persuasion to get Claudius to accept the truth about Messallina. Then he denied it all, saying it couldn’t be true.’ Narcissus visibly trembled at the memory. ‘So we encouraged him to drink some wine to soften the blow. That was when we presented him with a warrant for her arrest and execution, among a handful of other warrants issued for the arrest of her allies.’
‘You dog!’ Macro commented admiringly. ‘What did the Emperor do when he came to his senses?’
‘He grieved for a month. While the three of us disposed of the other members of Messallina’s conspiracy.
