The Art of War

Chapter 39

Rome, October, AD 69

Trabo

October was the month when everything changed. At the start of the month, when Geminus and Lucius thought I was sending reports from Ravenna, I was, in fact, one of three senior cooks in Julius Claudianus’ gladiator school.

I still saw Jocasta sporadically, but not as often as I would have liked. I saw Julius Claudianus far more often; any time he wasn’t actually driving the men through their exercises, he was in the kitchens.

He said he came in to watch over us, to ensure that his men were fed only on the best, but he had picked up the sweating sickness somewhere in his travelling youth and I think he liked being in the heat and the steam. And he held meetings in our presence; we became his second office, a place where he could hold private meetings without the risk of being overheard.

Which was necessary when his visitor was the emperor’s brother Lucius, come to ask if the gladiators of Courage would form a cohort to fight in support of the emperor.

Julius Claudianus was a big, loose-limbed, shambling man, but there and then he drew himself upright and sucked in his stomach and almost wept with the devotion he could promise from himself and his men.

As a former legionary commander, he knew, he said, exactly what qualities were required in a fighting man, which were not always the qualities of a gladiator, and he might not have enough at his own school, but if the emperor’s brother could offer gold then Julius Claudianus could bring together a century or more of the best fighting men in Rome.

Lucius offered an unlimited amount of gold. The deal was struck.

They clapped each other on the shoulder like sworn brothers and Lucius came over to taste the goat’s cream and chicory sauce I was cooking. He deemed it fit for an emperor and ordered some for his brother for that night.

Later, in the tavern, Julius Claudianus bought me a drink, sat me down in a corner, took a pair of dice out of his pocket and asked me for a game. When we finished, one of his dice had become mine. It was about the size of my thumbnail, beautiful, and well weighted.

Julius rose, and patted my arm. ‘Give it to Pantera,’ he said, although neither of us had spoken his name before then. ‘To him and nobody else.’

I did. It took me about eight days to set up a meeting; I had to find Borros and tell him and then we had to take care that it wasn’t just a way to trap both of us in incriminating circumstances.

We met in a tavern on the far side of town with Felix and Borros standing guard. I gave Pantera the die and watched him slide his knife under the six face and lift it free. There was a note inside. Opened, it read, The gladiators will be raised for Lucius.

It wasn’t news, I had already told him that, but what it told me was that Julius Claudianus was Pantera’s man.

I didn’t mention any of this to Jocasta when next I saw her. Pantera told me to put it out of my head and I did. If I’m honest, I thought she knew and it would have seemed like gossiping.