Sejanus

8

Next morning I went down to Watch headquarters again to see Lippillus. He'd had a late-night mugging and was taking the morning off, but the squaddie I'd caught him bawling out gave me directions to his new flat. I hoped I'd find it. Lippillus was right; the guy was thick as two short planks. Three short planks. Jupiter knew how he'd made it through puberty, let alone been accepted for the Watch.

On the way I turned over in my mind what I already knew about the Sacrovir revolt in Gaul. It wasn't much; I'd been in Athens at the time, and for Athenians Roman politics is a topic of conversation that ranks on a par with bedbugs and the finer points of sewage disposal. For all the Greeks cared, the Germans could've swum the Rhine, taken out all six of our legions and been giving lieder recitals on the Palatine with the Wart singing bass.

It had happened not long after I left Rome. I wasn't sure of the reasons, but they probably involved complaints about taxes. Revolts usually do, when you come right down to it, although you can substitute tribute or reparations or whatever the appropriate term might be, depending on the status of the areas concerned and what their precise relationship with us is; at least the relationship as we see it. Keeping an empire running doesn't come cheap, and the guys who run it are mostly ordinary human beings with families to feed and expensive tastes to pander to, ready and willing to turn an honest penny when opportunity presents itself. Or even a dishonest penny if they can get away with it. For all Augustus and the Wart's attempted reforms you still get the old Republican spiral: high taxes leading to debt leading to profiteering by private loan sharks leading to deeper poverty and discontent. When that gets bad enough — and it happens more quickly in the poorer provinces where cash-money isn't too plentiful and a tax demand means bad news for the goats — there's always trouble. Usually the local rep keeps it in check by knocking heads together, but sometimes things get out of hand and the governor has to send in the heavies.

Which was what had happened in Gaul. The trouble part, anyway. There'd been two revolts, one in the east towards the German border and one in the centre. The eastern rebellion, led by a local chief named Florus, had been put down pretty smartly. The other, which was Sacrovir's, was a tougher proposition altogether. Sure, we broke them, but it took the German governor Silius and a major slice of both Rhine armies to do it; the same Silius, if you remember, who was later prosecuted for helping the rebels…

Interesting as far as it went, but not a lot to go on as far as nitty-gritty details were concerned. Which was why I needed to talk to Lippillus again.

I was lucky. Maybe the squaddie had concrete filling between his ears but there was nothing wrong with his directions. I found the tenement without much trouble. It was upmarket for a city island; which meant the graffiti on the stair walls was correctly spelled and passing dogs or local residents who couldn't be bothered to make the trip to the public toilet didn't use the entrance lobby as a latrine. Marcina Paullina answered the door. She was wearing a loose red tunic that made a fantastic threesome with her glossy black hair and olive skin

'Corvinus!' she said. 'How lovely to see you! Do come in. Decimus is having breakfast.'

'Hi, Marcina.’ I tried not to look down as I eased past her in the narrow lobby: tenement flats aren't exactly spacious. Jupiter! Stepmothers like that shouldn't be allowed! And if she'd put on weight then she'd done it in all the right places. 'I'm sorry to disturb you this early.'

'Oh, that's all right. Anyway, it's not early. I was just going shopping, in fact.' As I always did, I wondered about Marcina's accent. She was African, sure, but she spoke the kind of pure Roman Latin you don't expect to hear in a city tenement, and I couldn't imagine her haggling for beans in the market.

'Corvinus!' Lippillus was sitting at the small folding table which was one of the few bits of furniture in the room, working his way through a plate of bread and cheese. 'Pull up a stool. You eaten yet?'

'Yeah.' I sat down. 'Some of that cheese would be good, though.'

'Help yourself.'

Marcina brought a flask of wine and two cups. Sensitive as well as beautiful.

'So how was the mugging?' I said.

'The usual.' He pushed the plate of cheese towards me. 'Smartass Esquiline kid with more money than sense slumming it in Cattlemarket Square. Luckily he had a hard skull. He'll be okay in a month or two, if he lives. So. How's your own investigation going?'

Marcina had taken a red headscarf and a cloak down from a hook behind the door and put them on. 'I'll see you later, Decimus,' she said. 'Sprats for dinner?'

'Fine.' Lippillus grinned at her. 'If I'm back in time. Don't wait up.'

'Do I ever?' She gave me a smile and left. Ah, well. Maybe it was for the best. With Marcina around I'd've found it difficult to keep my mind on business. I turned back to Lippillus.

'What do you know about the Gallic revolt?' I said.

Lippillus poured wine into the two cups. 'Florus and Sacrovir? No more than anyone else.' Yeah. I'd expected that, and I ignored it. The guy was a walking encyclopaedia. 'You think there's a connection with your stuff?'

I told him about the treason trials, the Asian scam, and what Torquata had said. When I'd finished, he nodded slowly.

'It sounds possible. Just. But if you think it was meant to pave the way for a Julian coup in Rome then you're fantasising.'

'Is that right?' I took a sip of the wine. Rough country stuff, but it went well with the goat's cheese.

'That's right. Florus and Sacrovir were amateurs. They caused a stir at the time, but nothing really serious, and nothing long term. Certainly not major enough to threaten the security of the empire.'

Yeah. That was true. If Agrippina had expected the west to rise as one man to the Julian cause she'd been disappointed. 'So you think I'm wrong?'

'No. Not necessarily.' Lippillus cut himself a slice of cheese. 'But you are looking at things from the wrong angle.'

'Okay, Aristotle. Tell me.'

He didn't smile. 'It's obvious. Like I said, Florus and Sacrovir were lightweights, in Roman terms at least. Sure, they had a lot of local support but once the legions were called in they didn't have a chance. The revolt never spread much beyond their own two tribes, let alone to Germany or the Spanish provinces. And if like you claim Silius and the Spanish governor were Julian supporters then that's significant, because if they intervened publicly at all it was on the Wart's side.'

True. All of it. Shit.

'So what was going on?' I said.

'You want an educated guess?'

'Yes, I want an educated guess!' Gods! Getting this clever midget to commit himself was like taking a bone from a seriously disgruntled wolverine.

'All right.' He sipped his wine. 'Let's say the purpose of the rebellion wasn't military at all. It was political; at least as far as the Julians were concerned. Wouldn't that make more sense?'

Uh-huh. It rang a few ten-year-old bells, too, and I wondered why I hadn't thought of it before. 'You mean the Julians were going for the Wart personally? For his political street cred?'

Lippillus nodded. 'Tiberius had his back to the wall at the time. He was in trouble financially, the army was stretched and grousing, and as far as his personal prestige was concerned he'd've had trouble running for office as Caretaker of Weights and Measures if he had to, let alone emperor. Whereas Agrippina and her sons were universally popular.'

Yeah, right. The old story, in other words, only for Germanicus read his wife and kids. And the financial aspect tied in nicely. Wars were expensive. The Treasury was already pretty empty after Pannonia and Germany, and the Wart was scraping in the pennies by cutting public spending to the bone. Logical enough, but your average city punter isn't logical over his Games and corn dole, and even emperors ignore the city punter at their peril. As far as Rome's not so silent majority were concerned Tiberius was a stingy bastard, full stop, end of story. More cuts, to pay for yet another war, might just put the lid on things. This was beginning to sound promising.

I took another swig of wine. 'So anything the Julians could do to mess things up even worse for Tiberius would be a definite plus?'

'Right. The aim was destabilisation, coupled with a smear campaign.' Lippillus pulled off a piece of the loaf. 'I doubt if they planned a formal coup. I'd guess the intention was to weaken him enough to force political concessions, and in those terms I'd say the revolt was pretty successful.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah. You weren't in Rome at the time, Corvinus. You didn't hear the rumours that were going around. If you'd believed half what was said — and I'm not just talking about wineshop gossip, either — you'd've thought the whole of the west was up in arms, Sacrovir was heading over the Alps like Hannibal with half Gaul, Germany and Spain at his back, and the Wart couldn't care a tuppeny toss.' He bit into the bread and chewed. 'Those rumours weren't accidental. And they did a lot of damage.'

I sat back. It made sense. Sure it did, and if that was where the Asian cash had gone then it'd been money well spent.

'Okay,' I said. 'There's the general theory. Where's the proof?'

'You want me to do all your work for you?' Lippillus's smooth, too-young face split into a grin. 'You're the big political thinker. I'm only an overworked public servant with a nasty mind. And with a nasty mind you can prove anything.'

'True. But you don't get any extra points for modesty.' I took the last bit of cheese from under his knife. 'You've probably got this all worked out already six ways from nothing. Cut the flannel and give.'

The grin changed to a laugh and he ducked his head.

'Okay. So maybe I do have some thoughts. Just don't quote me, right?' He bent down a finger on his left hand. 'One. You know that the family name of both Florus and Sacrovir was Julius?'

'Is that so, now?' No, I hadn't known that, and it was an interesting point. Provincial families given Roman citizenship take the name of the Roman who got it for them, just as a freed slave adds his ex-master's first names to his own. It's not only a compliment, it has a practical and legal purpose as well: out in the sticks, being able to sign three names to a document means you're someone to be reckoned with. 'You think they had Julian connections? Specific Julian connections?'

'It's possible. Sure, every third Gaul who can trace his citizenship back more than two generations is a Julius, but both Florus and Sacrovir were chiefs. Important men from important families whose citizen rights dated back to the early days of the province. Maybe even before that. One gets you ten they had client links with the Julians going back all the way to Caesar.'

'And loyalty's important to a Gaul. Personal loyalty. Florus and Sacrovir owed.' I nodded. 'Accepted. Two?'

He bent the second finger down. 'Two is the weapons.'

'Weapons?'

'Sacrovir had an army of forty thousand. Four-fifths of them were armed with knives and hunting spears which they could've brought with them from their villages, but at least six thousand had Roman equipment. Top-notch, state-of-the-art legionary stuff. That doesn't come cheap, it doesn't come easy, and it doesn't come quick. So where did Sacrovir get it from?'

Uh huh. I hadn't known that either, and the hairs on the back of my neck were beginning to stir. Six thousand sets is more than enough to equip a full-strength legion, and you don't pick up gear like that in the local fleamarket. 'The money came from Asia. And the equipment was Spanish and German, courtesy of the two Julian governors.'

'Right. Who else would have access? It would explain why Silius and Serenus were accused later of helping the rebels. Or partly explain it.'

I nodded. 'The guys had been fiddling their order sheets. And if the scam had been brewing for years Rome wouldn't necessarily have noticed.'

'The arms wouldn't even have had to come through official channels, Corvinus. No local manufacturer is going to query a governorial order. And if the bill's paid cash it's no skin off his nose. It only means a bigger slice of the profit.'

'Yeah,' I said. 'Yeah, I'd swallow that. Three.'

'Three is Montanus.'

I was going to say, 'Who?', but then I remembered. Votienus Montanus was the guy condemned the year after Serenus for bad-mouthing the emperor. I'd wondered about that myself. Like I said, up to that point slander had run off the Wart like water off a duck's back. So why had he been so keen to put Montanus into an urn?

'You think the guy did more than just shoot his mouth off?' I said.

'I don't just think it. I know he did. You've read the account of the trial. Does the name Aemilius mean anything to you?'

'He was one of the prosecution witnesses.'

'Did the records go into any details?'

'No. Just the name, and the fact that he'd given relevant evidence.' Shit! I should've noticed the omission myself, especially after the business with Silanus and Cordus.

'Aemilius was a soldier, one of the Lyons auxiliaries. Also a Gaul. Does that suggest anything?'

I had him now, and if he was right then Tiberius had had good reason to want Montanus dead and buried. 'That it wasn't just a straight case of personal slander. Montanus was inciting the local troops to mutiny.'

'Bull's-eye.'

I stared at him. 'Lippillus, where the hell did you get all of this?'

'I have my sources. Even in the senate.' He sipped his wine and filled both our cups. 'The reason why there's no exact record of Aemilius's deposition is that he claimed that Montanus had circulated pamphlets among the troops accusing the Wart of every crime from multiple buggery of children to incest with his mother. Plus, incidentally, the murder of every Julian from Gaius and Lucius Caesar to the Divine Augustus himself.'

Oh, Jupiter! Jupiter Best and Greatest! I could imagine what Gauls would make of that little nugget. The Julian family were like gods in Gaul, had been ever since Old Julius divided the place into three parts and wiped their noses for them. And like I'd said loyalty to family was a point of pride west of the Alps. If the local Gallic troops could be convinced that Tiberius had been responsible for snuffing out the Julians they'd be yelling for his head on a pole. I reached for my wine cup and drained it. My hand was shaking.

'They'd need proof,' I said. 'Rabble-rousing's one thing, but the Gauls aren't fools. And they've been settled for three generations.'

'Montanus gave them it. Circumstantial stuff, naturally, but proof nonetheless. And Aemilius insisted on repeating it loudly and at length in open court. Names. Dates. Details that fitted so well with what everyone knew already that Tiberius shut the guy up himself.'

‘“Shut him up"?'

'I'm putting it mildly. My senatorial informant said he was furious. His friends had to hold him down.'

'The Wart? We're talking about the Wart?' Jupiter in a bathrobe! Tiberius never lost control of himself in public! Never!

Lippillus nodded. 'We're talking about the Wart. So where would a hick provincial like Montanus who'd never set foot in Rome get that sort of information from?'

'From the Julians themselves. Where else?' I was still in shock. 'Gods!'

'Right. Like I said, a smear campaign. And a pretty effective one at that. You want my fourth point?'

'You mean there's more?'

'This one's more interesting still.' He filled my cup. 'It concerns the guy who might just be your tie-in with Sejanus. The Spanish governor. Vibius Serenus.'