The Art of War

Chapter 27

Rome, 4 August AD 69

Jocasta

I’m not sure what I expected after I told them about Antonius Primus and his blatant opportunism, but it wasn’t that we’d be up all night talking through strategies to turn him to our best advantage.

By dawn, when we’d run out of words, my eyes felt as if they’d been rubbed with goose grease and sand; each blink was slow and gritty. Thinking was hard.

‘We should leave.’ I stood, slowly, rolling my shoulders. ‘The Guards will come back with the sun and they must find the lady Caenis and lord Domitian here alone. The rest of us must leave while it’s still dark.’

‘I could escort…’ Domitian had been half asleep. His cheek held the scarlet imprint of his fist where he had leaned on it for the past hours. He pushed himself upright now, scrubbing away the memories of dreams with the heel of his hand.

I smiled for him; he was a good boy. Strange, yes, solitary, inward, scarred by a life lived in the shade of his perfect brother, the soldier and seducer of queens, but good all the same. Whatever else happened later, you must believe me when I say that I did not want to see him hurt.

That August morning in Caenis’ atrium, with the early sun shining silver on the flat sheen of the pond, I said simply, ‘Thank you. It would be good to have your company, but you must stay here with the lady Caenis. You must seem to wake if the Guards come. You must be ready to lie for your life and ours. Can you do that?’

You see? I was good to him. His smile was radiant. I squeezed his shoulder as friends do to each other. Trabo glowered, which was ridiculous, but he was as exhausted as the rest of us… one has to make excuses. Caenis, on the other hand, looked as if her heart might break on Domitian’s behalf, which was unfortunate, but there was nothing I could do about it just then. He was the son of the man who might become emperor and I wished to remain on the right side of him, but I had no intention of relieving him of his virginity, which was what he so clearly wanted.

What did Pantera do?

Nothing. That is, I don’t remember him doing anything particular, except that he grasped Caenis in a brotherly embrace and kissed her cheek and it looked to me as if he whispered something. So yes, all right, he did do something, and very probably it had a bearing on what came next.

A last moment’s brisk leave-taking gripped us all and then we three who were leaving stepped out into the remains of the night, each heading in a different direction.

Trabo went along the road to the Inn of the Crossed Spears, Pantera turned uphill and I headed west, towards the Aventine, and home.

I had gone maybe three streets when a low whistle ahead and to the right made me spin away into the shelter of a doorway, reaching for my knife.

‘It’s me.’

‘Pantera? Are you trying to die?’ If I had been less tired, or more tired… but he was hardly fresh himself. The strain of being constantly hunted was taking its toll. He was leaning back against a wall, as if brick and mortar were holding him up as much as willpower.

He said, ‘How much of what happened tonight will you have to tell Lucius?’

‘I’ll tell him I went to visit Caenis. He’ll flog the men for not seeing me, but that’s fine. I’ll tell him she is concerned for Vespasian’s safety but there is remarkably little she can do besides offer succour to such men of his faction as come to Rome.’

‘Trabo?’

‘I won’t tell him about Trabo, no. And I won’t tell him you were there. I won’t tell him what we planned. Particularly, I won’t tell him what I must do to Valens and Caecina.’

This last was the heart and soul of our night’s plan so I may as well tell it to you now.

From the start, it had been clear that it was far too late to turn around the legate Antonius Primus and his five legions. To be honest, I don’t think even a direct order from Vespasian would have got him to stop; he’d just have killed the messenger and then denied the order ever reached him.

I knew him, you see, from his time in Rome. He’s one of those men who is a nightmare in peacetime but you want him on your side when war starts if only to keep him from going over to the enemy. Lucius had made a big mistake in not wooing him, but the man was a legionary legate of a minor legion stationed in Pannonia; if he’d tried to woo every single commander who might have decided to win glory for himself he’d have drained the imperial coffers within days.

So; Antonius Primus was an ambitious idiot who had risked everything in a pre-emptive move, but he was moving, and he had to be supported. If he were beaten, many of the men who would otherwise have sided with Vespasian would turn their backs on him when he needed them most.

Vitellius’ men knew this equally well, so they were bound to send some or all of their legions to try to stop him in his tracks. Pantera thought it would be useful, therefore, if only one of Lucius’ two generals was able to take to the field. Furthermore, it would be doubly useful if the active general was inclined to Vespasian’s cause.

That’s where I came in. I offered to make sure that either Caecina or Valens was incapacitated and the other was inclined to defect. Nobody had asked me how I planned to achieve this but I thought that Pantera, who knew most about me, might have guessed.

In the early dawn light, he was a shadow leaning on a wall, radiating exhaustion.

He said, ‘You don’t have to do this.’

I laughed. ‘You would rather Caenis tried? I’m sure she’d do her best, but do you truly think she knows how to poison a man so that he falls sick three days after the meal, and only him of a table of twenty?’

There was a silence. Presently, Pantera said, ‘There are very few who know how to do that.’

I pressed my advantage. ‘And could she catch Caecina’s eye and hold it, and perhaps talk him into committing treason against the man he has fought so hard to bring to the throne? Caenis spends her afternoon gatherings making loud noises in Vitellius’ favour, but everyone knows she is Vespasian’s to the end. They tolerate her because she used to be a slave and they believe her to be powerless.’

‘And you they think quite safe?’

‘We have to hope so.’

‘It won’t be easy.’

‘That’s what Seneca said. He was right.’

Pantera laughed a little, and looked down at his feet. When he looked up, there was a compassion in him I had not expected. Softly, he said, ‘When you need to stop, send me word. You know how.’

I wanted to say something brave — I won’t stop until we have what we want — but he wouldn’t have believed that and, just then, neither did I.

I said, ‘You’ll hear from the silver-boys when Valens is ill. I’ll do what I can with Caecina. You have enough to worry about if you’re going to bring the Ravenna and Misene fleets to our side, and manage Antonius Primus so he doesn’t do anything else reckless. Go now.’ I found his shoulder in the half-dark, leaned in, and kissed his cheek, drily, as he had kissed Caenis’. ‘Get some sleep.’

He didn’t. Neither did I. Because I’d seen him kiss Caenis, and watched his lips move, and I knew he was going back there.

If you have spoken to Caenis, you know what went on. Nevertheless, I must tell you that I followed him back, and when he went indoors I climbed up on to the roof and lay with my head by the opening to the atrium. I heard every word.