EPILOGUE
Two months later Cato climbed the path up to the
imperial villa perched on the cliff on the eastern end of the
island of Caprae. They had taken passage on an imperial courier
packet from Alexandria, and braved the rough autumn seas to cross
the Mediterranean and sail up the west coast of Italy, making for
the port of Ostia on the mouth of the Tiber. When they put in at
the naval base of Puteoli they were told that Emperor Claudius and
the imperial secretary, Narcissus, were wintering on Caprae.
Accordingly, the captain of the packet reversed course and made for
the small rocky island thrusting up from the sea just off the bay
of Naples. Cato had left Macro in one of the inns of the small
fishing village nestling beside the harbour.
As he climbed the
path, passing through checkpoints manned by wary Praetorian Guards,
Cato collected his thoughts so that he could deliver a clear report
to the imperial secretary. The defeat of the Nubians and the death
of Ajax had brought his mission in Egypt to an end. Once the
Twenty-Second Legion had returned to its base in Memphis, Cato and
Macro had quit the legion and returned to Alexandria. They
travelled down the Nile on a barge, Cato resting under an awning as
he recovered from his wound. The Jackals’ surgeon had sewn the
wound up and it had taken many days before the flesh had knitted
together in a jagged scar stretching across his face.
In Alexandria the
governor had listened, grim-faced, as the two officers reported on
the outcome of the campaign, the grievous losses suffered by the
Roman army and the ravaging of the province along the upper Nile.
Petronius had been angry at Cato’s decision to exchange Talmis for
Ajax, especially as there was no body to put on public display. But
he took no action against the acting legate. Petronius announced
that Cato would have to answer for his decisions before officials
back in Rome, and take his punishment there. The governor had
hurriedly written a preliminary report and sent it ahead of Cato
for delivery to Narcissus, the Emperor’s closest
adviser.
Throughout the voyage
home, Cato’s mood had become more and more despondent. He yearned
to return to Julia’s side. She was waiting for him at her father’s
house in Rome and he could picture her, vividly, as he imagined
himself stepping across the threshold and into her arms. Such
thoughts were immediately soured by her reaction to the scar that
now crossed his brow and cheek.
His mind was also
burdened by the grievous error of judgement he had made over
Hamedes. His reasoning had been faulty and an innocent man had
died. Macro had spoken little of the matter and offered rough
reassurance that Cato’s mistake was understandable amid the chaos
and bloodshed of the campaign. Cato was far less forgiving of
himself.
He approached the
main gate of the imperial villa at the top of the track and told
the duty optio his name and rank and explained his request to see
Narcissus and make his report.
‘Wait here, sir,’ the
optio instructed and unhurriedly climbed the stairs into the villa.
A cold wind was blowing over the island and gathering clouds
threatened rain. To the north the hillside tumbled steeply down to
the cliffs overlooking the sea and Cato stared over the bay towards
the distant headland of Puteoli. A hundred or so miles further
along the coast lay Ostia, and a short ride into Rome, and
Julia.
‘Prefect!’
Cato turned and saw
the Praetorian optio beckoning to him from the top of the stairs.
The guards on the gate parted to admit him. Then, at the foot of
the stairs, another guard raised a hand.
‘Excuse me, sir. I
take it you have handed your sword and any other weapons in to the
port guards?’
‘Yes.’
The guardsman nodded.
‘Good. Then there’s one last search before you proceed, sir. Please
raise your arms and stand still.’
Cato did as he was
instructed and the guardsman expertly frisked his cloak, tunic and
ran his fingers around the inside of Cato’s belt before he stood
back. ‘That’s it, sir.’
Cato advanced and
climbed the stairs to the waiting optio, who led him through a
marble portico into the atrium of the villa. The space was
dominated by a large shallow pool with a tessellated image of
Neptune and shoals of fish decorating the bottom. On the far side a
short colonnaded hall led out on to a terrace. Through large doors
to the right, Cato could hear voices, laughing and talking
light-heartedly. There was a smaller opening to the left, leading
down to the quarters of the slaves and lesser
officials.
‘This way, sir.’ The
optio gestured to Cato, who followed him across the atrium and down
the corridor on to the terrace. A wide expanse of pink-hued marble
stretched out before them and ended abruptly fifty paces away.
Potted plants and trellised walkways surrounded the terrace, which
afforded spectacular views across the sea towards the mainland.
Cato could understand why the island had been the favourite
playground of the imperial family for so many years.
There was only one
other man on the terrace and he sat on a bench with his back to
Cato.
‘There you are, sir.’
The optio halted and indicated the seated figure. ‘I’ll see you
back at the gate, sir. To log you out.’ The optio saluted and
turned and marched into the villa. Cato continued across the
terrace. Narcissus’s thin frame was wrapped in a plain red cloak
and his dark hair was threaded with grey. He glanced back as he
heard Cato’s footsteps and offered a smile that lacked any real
warmth.
‘Cato, it is good to
see you again, my boy. Sit down.’ He gestured towards another
bench, set at an angle to the one he was seated on. A small table
stood in front of the benches and a thin wisp of vapour rose from a
goblet of heated wine. There was only one cup, Cato noted. This was
typical of Narcissus, Cato thought, a small trick to remind him of
his subordination, and put him in his place.
Cato eased himself
down on to the seat indicated and Narcissus looked him over for a
moment before he spoke. ‘You’ve been wounded recently. That’s quite
a scar.’
Cato
shrugged.
‘It’s been a while
since we have spoken,’ Narcissus continued.
‘Over two years. When
you sent Macro and me to spy on the governor of
Syria.’
‘And you both made a
good job of that, as well as playing a leading role in saving
Palmyra from the Parthians. Since then, you’ve done sterling work
in Crete, and Sempronius informed me that he had sent you to find
the slave rebel, Ajax.’ Narcissus reached inside his cloak and
pulled out a scroll. ‘And now the governor of Egypt, our good
friend Petronius, reports that you have resolved the matter. Well
done. However, he takes you to task for letting the Nubian Prince
go.’ Narcissus watched Cato closely. ‘Would you care to explain why
you did so?’
‘It was my judgement
that the gladiator presented the greater threat, taking the wider
picture into consideration,’ Cato said firmly.
‘The wider picture.’
Narcissus smiled faintly. ‘It seems I was right about you. You have
the brains to consider the strategic situation in making your
decisions.’ He tossed the report on the table dismissively.
‘Petronius is a fool. Your judgement was sound, young man, though
you have made an enemy of Petronius, and there will be plenty in
Rome who will not appreciate the nuances of your dilemma. Be that
as it may, rest assured I accept what you did as the appropriate
course of action, though I will not say so in public, nor will
there be any official recognition of your achievement in hunting
down that infernal gladiator.’ Narcissus smiled apologetically
before he continued. ‘Then there is the difficult matter of Senator
Sempronius’s decision to appoint you to the rank of prefect. He did
so in the name of the Emperor, I understand. However, he exceeded
his authority. Of course there was something of an emergency to
deal with and both the Emperor and I approve of the actions
Sempronius undertook to put an end to the slave revolt in Crete and
send you and Macro to hunt down the ringleaders.’ Narcissus
gestured towards the report. ‘Now the crisis has passed and the
danger is over. You have my thanks. You and your comrade,
Macro.’
Cato bowed his head
slightly in acknowledgement.
‘However,’ Narcissus
continued, ‘such a rapid progression through the ranks is bound to
raise a few eyebrows and ruffle a few feathers, eh? Emperor
Claudius is always mindful of the need not to upset those in the
military, some of whom are not as loyal as they should be. The
murder of his predecessor is eloquent proof of that. Which means
that you present him with something of a difficulty.’
‘What do you
mean?’
Narcissus stared at
him for a moment, and smiled. ‘You’re an intelligent fellow, Cato.
I know I don’t need to spell it out for you, but since you would
derive some satisfaction from forcing me to be blunt then I will
be.’
‘That would be
appreciated.’
‘It would not be wise
to confirm your promotion at present, particularly since it is your
intention to return to Rome to wed that lovely daughter of
Sempronius. Your presence in the capital would cause jealousy.
There are plenty of other senators with protégés they are seeking
to advance.’
Cato listened with an
increasing sense of bitterness. This was his reward for the
sacrifices made in the service of the Emperor and Rome. An
expression of gratitude and, no doubt, demotion to the rank of
centurion. With that would disappear his automatic elevation to the
equestrian class. He could well imagine how reluctant Sempronius
would be to permit his daughter to marry so far beneath her. It was
true that the senator had offered some encouragement to their
relationship after the siege of Palmyra, but that was a very
different setting to the cut and thrust of Roman social and
political life. Cato’s demotion would be seen as a mark of official
disfavour, even if he had the private gratitude of Narcissus and
Emperor Claudius. All the plans that Cato had made for his future
with Julia began to crumble in his mind. Cato cleared his
throat.
‘Have these protégés
served Rome as well as I?’
‘No, they haven’t,
but then Sempronius is not nearly as influential as the other
senators. You see my difficulty. Trust me, I don’t want to stand in
the way of your promotion, and your future happiness.’ He winked.
‘But there are political realities that need to be addressed. That
is the nature of my job. I would not be serving the Emperor well if
I acted without regard for the wider picture.’
‘So you will not be
confirming my promotion.’
‘Not for the present.
Perhaps when you are a safe distance from Rome, and far from the
public eye.’
‘You mean that I
cannot remain in Rome and take the promotion.’
Narcissus was silent
for a moment, then nodded.
Cato let out a long,
weary sigh. ‘Very well, find me a posting, somewhere I won’t
embarrass you, and not so far from Rome, nor so uncomfortable, that
Julia will not wish to come with me.’
Narcissus had arched
his eyebrows as Cato spoke and now responded in a cold tone. ‘You
do not make demands of me, young man. Be clear about that. Were it
not for your fine record I would punish you for speaking so
bluntly. Now listen. I will confirm your promotion before the year
is out, whether you are in Rome or stationed elsewhere in the
Empire. I give you my word on that. And here is the reason.’
Narcissus paused and looked round, as if to make sure they were not
being overheard. Cato saw through the pretence at once. The
security at the villa was so tight that no spy could possibly
penetrate the ring of steel the Praetorian Guard formed round the
Emperor’s residence.
Even so, Narcissus
lowered his voice.
‘I have need of you
and Macro. Urgent need. You recall the dealings we have had with
that nest of traitors who call themselves the
Liberators?’
Cato remembered them
well. A shadowy conspiracy of aristocrats and their followers who
wanted to do away with the line of emperors and return Rome to the
days of the Republic when the senate exercised supreme power. He
nodded to Narcissus.
‘I
remember.’
‘Then know that they
are active again. My spies have heard rumours of a fresh plot
against the Emperor.’
‘The Liberators
intend to assassinate him?’
‘I don’t know the
details, only that something is afoot. There are few men I dare
trust with the knowledge. That is why I am meeting you out here,
alone. I need men I can trust to investigate this further. To
penetrate the heart of the conspiracy.’
Cato thought it
through and smiled bitterly. ‘So that’s it. Either we do this for
you, or you will deny me my promotion.’
‘Yes.’
‘And what does Macro
gain from this?’
‘His pick of the
legions when you both return to active service. That, or perhaps
the command of an auxiliary cohort.’
‘And what guarantee
do we have that you will keep to your side of the deal if we take
on this task?’
‘You have my
word.’
Cato nearly laughed
out loud but restrained himself in time. There was nothing to be
gained from insulting the imperial secretary. Equally, there was
much to be lost if he failed to accept the task being offered to
him. He looked Narcissus in the eye.
‘I cannot give you my
answer now. I must speak with Macro first.’
‘Where is
he?’
‘Down in the
port.’
‘Very well. Then go
now. I’ll expect to see you back here before the end of the day.
Any later and I will assume that you refuse the task, and I will be
obliged to find a more loyal man to carry it out. A man more worthy
of promotion, if you understand my meaning.’
‘Perfectly.’ Cato
stood up abruptly. ‘I’ll take my leave of you.’
‘For the moment.’
Narcissus nodded. ‘Don’t be too long, Cato. I’ll be here, waiting
for you,’ he added with a ring of certainty that stayed with Cato
all the way across the terrace, out of the villa, and down the long
path back into the port as he went to find Macro.
‘He’s a real low,
shitty, slimy, crooked piece of work, our Narcissus.’ Macro shook
his head. ‘One of these days I’m going to take him for a nice
little walk down a quiet alley and do him in.’
‘Come the day,’ Cato
replied with feeling. He lifted the cup that Macro had poured him
and glanced round the small inn. A handful of off-duty Praetorians
were playing dice on a table on the far side of the room, dimly lit
by the handful of oil lamps hanging from the beams. Cato lowered
his voice. ‘What do you think?’
‘About Narcissus’s
offer?’ Macro shrugged. ‘We accept. What else can we do? The
bastard has us by the balls and he knows it. Besides, if it gets me
back into a legion on a permanent posting then I’m game. You too if
you have any sense. How else are you going to get that promotion to
prefect confirmed? I tell you, Cato, I’d do anything to get back to
regular soldiering. If it takes doing one more job for Narcissus,
then I’ll do it.’
Cato nodded
thoughtfully. His friend was right. There was no choice in the
matter. Not if he wanted to marry Julia. He would have to do the
bidding of the imperial secretary in order to win his promotion and
rise into the ranks of the equestrian class. Only then could he
present himself to Senator Sempronius as a suitable husband for his
daughter. Cato reached up with his spare hand and touched his scar.
He felt a stab of anxiety in his heart as he wondered how she would
react when she saw him again.
Macro noticed the
gesture and could not help a light chuckle.
Cato frowned at him.
‘What?’
‘Trust me, lad.’
Macro smiled as he picked up the wine jug and reached across the
table to refill Cato’s cup to the brim. ‘The ladies love a good
scar. Makes you look more like a real man, not one of the pampered
dandies that strut around the forum in Rome. So, let’s have a
toast. Death to the Emperor’s enemies, and here’s to the rewards
that are long overdue to us both.’
Cato nodded as he
tapped his cup against Macro’s. ‘I’ll drink to that, my
friend.’