The Art of War

Chapter 65

Rome, 19 December AD 69

Caenis

Inside the temple, relief at the day’s early success had dissolved in the dark. Braziers had been lit, casting everything in a feral, ruddy glow, but they brought no cheer; there was not enough food, few blankets and no wine.

Sabinus was a bent shape, moving amongst the comfortless groups, offering words of encouragement to the fearful, exchanging memories or words of hope with the stalwart.

I saw the best in him that night. The politician who was used to the back-stabbing, double-dealing, word-twisting of the senate became another man here, offering true comfort to those who needed it. He should have been a priest; it would have suited him.

Domitian was more erratic. For a while, he had been elated by his first taste of battle. When the Guards left, he stood on the wall and screamed invective at them. Later, when they were obviously returning in greater numbers, he turned his fury on Antonius Primus, who had not yet come to save him.

‘He leaves us to die so that later he can claim Rome for himself. We should never have come up here. It’s a death trap.’

When he tired of repeating that, he came to find Matthias and me and we retired to join Quinctillius Atticus in the law library, where Domitian passed the time rifling through the bronze tablets, reading old decrees passed centuries before he was born.

A knock rattled the door. Matthias ran to open it. Pantera stood on the threshold, with Sabinus a little behind him, and then Trabo. The brazier’s red light showed them filthy, coated in ash and mud, scratched on arms and hands and face.

‘My lord Domitian, my lady Caenis, Consul Atticus…’ He nodded to each of us in precise succession although nobody made any pretence that any of us was in control of our defences: Pantera ruled us now. ‘The Guards are mounting a diversionary assault on the front gate, but it appears they are also climbing up the Hundred Steps at the north side of the hill which, as we know, give access to the northern gates. We believe they may also be endeavouring to scale the tenements that lie against the temple walls on the forum side. Your lives are in danger. I know I argued that you should stay, but I believed Antonius Primus would be with us before this. If he comes now, he may well be too late. Accordingly, I would urge you to leave. We have found a way out over the wall behind the library, but those who are leaving must go now.’

‘All of us?’ I asked. ‘You can get a thousand people out of here?’

‘Not all. The emperor’s family and immediate servants, and the consul. No more. And there is no time to waste.’

‘I will not leave.’ Sabinus was cloaked in calm. His words fell like the pronouncements of an Oracle. ‘I will not abandon those who have placed their faith in my brother. Consul Atticus and I shall remain together and endeavour to negotiate with the Guard when they enter. If nothing else, it will give you time to get clear.’

‘Sabinus!’ Quinctillius Atticus fell on his knees. He has always been prone to over-dramatization and this was a splendid performance. ‘We have to leave! If we go now, we can save our families. We can-’

‘We are old men, Quinctillius. We will slow down the younger ones.’ Sabinus’ smile was peaceful, generous. ‘Caenis of course must go. My brother would never forgive me if I kept her in danger.’

Pantera looked no happier than the consul. ‘And your brother will never forgive me if I don’t take you away now,’ he said. ‘I was sent to Rome with two tasks: the first was to take Rome bloodlessly, which I have manifestly failed to do. The second, and by far the more important, was to preserve Vespasian’s family from harm.’

He quoted my love from memory, his eyes half shut, remembering. ‘“For if I am emperor and any one of them has come to harm, all the power in the world will not repair their loss.” You are one of the three he holds most dear; you, his son and Caenis. Your safety is my first priority.’

‘And yet if you tell him I ordered you to leave, and that I resisted all attempts to take me, he will understand.’ Sabinus took Pantera by the arm, gently turned him round. ‘We can stand here and argue, losing time, or you can accept what I say: that I will stay here with the consul and will negotiate with the officers of the Guard. If you have discovered — or created — a way out, you must use it now to take Domitian and Caenis to safety. I am the emperor’s brother and I so order you.’

‘They’ll kill you.’

‘They may not. Vitellius is a civilized man and he does still hold some sway with this rabble.’

Pantera’s face was drained of colour, even in that place, where the braziers turned everything red. He might have gone on arguing, but I said, ‘Sabinus, are you sure?’

‘I have never been more certain of anything. Go now. I will hold here. I served in Britain and that did not go altogether badly. We shall not give up without a fight and when we do, we shall demand our rights as civilized Romans.’

His brother had a stubborn streak and there was a painful familiarity in the man I saw before me now; never had he looked so much like Vespasian.

As Sabinus had done, I touched Pantera’s arm. ‘You’ll have to take him by force if you want him to go and I think that may not be possible, if I understand how you plan us to leave?’

‘No, my lady, it would not be possible.’ Pantera swept his hands over his face. When they dropped again, the decision was made.

‘My lord… Your brother will almost certainly crucify me, but I believe you are right. I honour your courage.’

‘My dear.’ Sabinus took my hand, drew me to him. ‘We should have longer for this. Know that you have brought the light to my brother’s life, and to mine, knowing him so happy. I would have liked to see you as his right hand on the throne, but you’ll get there without me.’

‘Sabinus…’ I had known him since I was seventeen; the shy and distant boy of a not-quite-senatorial family who had become slowly, over decades, the big brother I never had.

We were too formal, too public. There should have been words, and there were so few, and all stuck.

‘Brother…’ My fingers cramped over his. ‘He will know of this, and all else you have done for his cause.’

‘I could ask for nothing more.’ He pulled me into a quick, gruff embrace, a brief warmth and scents of smoke and sweat and home. I wanted to weep, but the moment was too great for that; it was not my place to spoil it.

‘Go now,’ he said. ‘They are waiting.’

He gave a half-salute, such as men give on going to battle, and before I could say aught else I was being led at a half-run out of a side door in the library and we — Matthias, Domitian and I — were following Pantera westwards, to the wall that stood atop the precipitous eastern face of the Capitol.

We reached it swiftly, and without anyone seeing us. Trabo was there, and Borros, the big Briton. He stood wide-footed with his back braced against the wall and had made a stirrup of his looped hands.

Pantera said, ‘Let me go up first.’ He did so, and then sat astride with his legs dangling and leaned down.

‘Caenis first. If it please you, my lady, Borros will lift you up until you can reach my hand.’

It didn’t please me, but there was really no choice. The wall was ten feet high, if not more. Borros knotted his fingers into a platform and I took the same step Pantera had done and, stretching, was able to reach his hand. He gripped my wrist and hauled me up as if I were a sack of lamb. Scrambling, I made it up on to the curved top of the wall.

‘If you sit on it, lady, you will be safest.’ His eyes signalled an apology, but he was obviously right. I slid along to where he showed me and sat astraddle, in a way that would have scandalized the widows who were my neighbours and given them food for gossip for months. They were not the ones looking down the eastern face of the hill, at the sheer drop that fell away and away and away into the night. If we had tumbled then…

Domitian came next, and then Matthias and Trabo, who helped Pantera to haul Borros up.

‘How are we to get down again?’ I asked.

‘There’s a rope, lady. If I might climb past you?’

He had lizard feet, Pantera. He stepped lightly past me and went on a dozen paces and then lay on his belly on the wall and leaned down, and on the second or third try found what he sought. He whispered back, ‘Borros!’

The big Briton made himself the anchor once again, and the rope dangled over the edge, down into the everlasting dark.

Domitian went first, stepping lightly down the wall with his legs braced against it. He seemed immune to fear that night. His father would have been proud of him. Trabo followed Matthias and then it was my turn. I couldn’t move. I was frozen to the wall, staring at the height, terrified.

‘My lady?’ Pantera was behind me, standing on the wall’s curved top. ‘We need to lower you down. With your permission?’

He asked for my dignity, knowing I couldn’t climb; of all the things I am grateful for that night, his care for me on that wall ranks amongst the highest.

He wrapped the free end of the rope around my waist and, with my feet braced against the stone, Borros and Pantera lowered me down until I felt Domitian’s hands on my waist, helping me that last step, untying the rope that dug in beneath my ribs and made my breathing tight.

‘Keep your back to the wall. Don’t step forward. There is nowhere to go but down.’

I could feel it, the long drop to the foot of the Capitol. It sucked at me, sang to me siren songs of life swiftly gone, of an end to all care and fear and hope, for what use is hope when all is hopeless?

I thought of Sabinus and wished I hadn’t. We were so close still to the temple; we’d have heard sounds of fighting if it had started, so it hadn’t yet.

‘Excuse me, my lady.’ Shuffling past me on the tiny ledge, Pantera gave me a sickly grin. It felt better, knowing that he hated heights as much as I did.

With him in front, we all edged forward in the dark, testing each step as we went, keeping our right hands on the cold, slick stone of the temple wall and the other hand wrapped tight across our chests that we might not swing it out and pull ourselves over.

We reached a corner. Ahead, to our right, were the Guards who were assaulting the main gate of the temple. We had come round the side and there was a small gap before we reached the row of priests’ houses, now largely burned out.

By the noise, there were Guards there in numbers greater than we had yet seen on the hill. They were not well ordered; I could hear the commands and counter-commands, but there was no doubt they were perfectly capable of killing us if they saw us.

Or they’d take us prisoner, which would be worse. Very badly, I didn’t want to be the reason why Vespasian had to abandon his attempt, but I had no doubt, also, that he’d do exactly that if Domitian or I were to be taken by Lucius and threatened with harm.

They were a stone’s throw away; less. Pantera drew Domitian, Matthias and me close and said, softly, ‘Under the first of the priests’ houses is a cellar room. The trap door has been badly burned but is still in place, and I think nobody will find it who doesn’t know to look. The gap from here to there is ten paces.

‘If I have timed it correctly, there will be a noise from inside the temple very soon. When this happens, you will keep your heads covered with your cloaks, your faces turned away from the light, and you will walk, not run, those ten paces on to the porch and in through the front door of the first priest’s house.

‘It will feel like a lifetime, but it is not. Borros, Trabo and I will protect you with our lives if the Guards see you. In that case, you will have to risk being seen. Run to the fifth house. It has a door in the back wall that leads out to a narrow path behind the row that leads down the hill. The silver-boys will hide you if you can get to the Street of the Lame Dog.’

‘Pantera.’ I caught his arm. ‘If there is any chance of our being captured, I want your word that you will do for us what you did for Amoricus.’

He didn’t know that I knew what he had done. His eyes swam with hurt. ‘Lady, I can’t-’

‘You can. I order it. As your future…’

‘As my empress,’ he said, though we both knew I could never be that.

I said, ‘I will not be used as a weapon against him. I would rather be dead. Is that clear?’

By way of answer, he slid his arm into his sleeve and brought out a small, wicked-looking knife, sharp on both edges of the blade and fining down to a narrow point.

‘Take it.’ He held it out, flat on his palm. ‘For use in the last resort, if Trabo, Borros and I cannot help you.’

If we are already dead.

I had turned one of these down once, and regretted it. I took it. The hilt fitted perfectly into my hand. I prayed, briefly, to the gods whose temple we were leaving, that I would have the courage to use it at the right time.

As if in answer, a shout went up from behind the temple gates. A great ball of flame lobbed out, arcing up and over the wall, to fall down amongst the Guards. It was a barrel of pitch and it exploded as it hit the ground, sending hot tar over the nearest men. The noise, then, of screaming, shouting, weeping and cursing was like a wall of sound, crashing over us.

I barely heard Pantera’s single word, ‘Go’, but I felt his hand in the small of my back and in my mind I repeated over and over, Walk, don’t run. Walk fast, don’t run. Keep looking away. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t -

I was there, up the steps and in through the doorway. The whole walk had been in shadow. The priest’s house was a charred ruin, still smoking, still hot. I stepped in through a doorway that was little more than a pair of leaning doorposts with no lintel. Inside, the light of the blazing pitch barrel cast awkward shadows across the debris.

Domitian reached me, his face pinched and scared. He stared at me, hard, at the knife in my hand. ‘Do you need to carry that?’

‘For now, I do.’ I had nowhere to put it, but even if Pantera had given me his little sleeve scabbard and strapped it on for me, I would have kept the naked blade in my hand. It was my touchstone for safety, my promise to myself.

Matthias came up on my right. His mouth moved in silent prayer. I realized I had no idea to whom he prayed.

Pantera joined us, then Trabo and Borros, together. ‘This way.’

He led through the atrium into a small back room with a window that looked west, out over the cliff and down towards the city below where Saturnalia lights flared and flickered, tiny sulphur perforations in a sheet of night.

‘Here.’ Pantera knelt in the middle of the floor. The charred remains of a trap door stood upright on its hinges and below was a mellow light, as of a dozen wall lamps.

We descended down a ladder that had not been touched by the fire into a small room, half the size of my atrium, painted blood red on walls, floor and ceiling, with a statue on the northern wall of a young man killing a bull.

Two people were there ahead of us.

‘Jocasta!’ Trabo skidded down the last two rungs of the ladder and leapt towards her, his arms wide.

‘Horus! I thought we’d lost you.’ Domitian didn’t run to the painted youth in the lilac gown, or embrace him, but I know that look, have felt it and given it, and his voice… I had never heard him sound mellow; always the opposite. Just then, he was mellow. And he didn’t so much as glance at Jocasta, which in itself spoke more than words could have done.

And so, and so… The trap door closed, softly. I glanced up and caught Pantera’s eye and he gave a strange, quirked shrug that was at once apology and explanation. He knew and he hadn’t told me. Very likely, he hadn’t known what to say.

But he had sent these two ahead with orders to test the route, or on some other pretext, so that we were whole, and our hearts unbroken.

I said, ‘What now?’

‘We wait,’ Pantera said. ‘The force here are a diversion. The main attack is coming across from the tops of the tenements. They’ll either open the gates and call these in, or call them back down the hill. We can hear them well from here. When they leave, we’ll go out and down into the city. There are people there who will hide us.’

He was right, we could hear everything, there in the little Mithraeum.

And then, exploring, Domitian found a niche in the far wall from which arose a chimney that was not for fire, but for light. The priests of this place, perhaps fearing discovery — for what priest of Jupiter wishes it to be known that he secretly follows Mithras of the east? — had created an ingenious system of silvered discs set at angles that allowed us to see at least a measure of what was happening outside. Domitian said that Pythagoras had created such a thing, or perhaps it was Aristotle, he wasn’t certain, but he knew how to angle the lowermost disc so that, by putting our eye to the gap and staring at the disc, we could see the feet and legs of the men who gathered in front of the row of priests’ houses.

The rest of us found limited interest in the naked knees of Guardsmen, but Domitian stayed there, entranced by the mirrors and the ways they worked together, until his hoarse whisper filled the room. ‘Fire! The temple’s on fire!’

We all came to look then, and he was right, the temple was a great blazing beacon, shooting flame and sparks high into the night sky.

‘Sabinus!’ I wanted to go out, to shout at the Guard to let out the people trapped in the temple compound, but Pantera held me tight and would not let me go and after an age of desperate waiting Domitian said, ‘They’re coming out. Uncle Sabinus is with them. And the Guard, Juvens. Sabinus has surrendered to him in order that the people might be saved.’

We were proud of him then, you must understand that, even if it meant we were trapped. For of course we couldn’t go out when a thousand people stood just outside the door, surrounded by the increasingly raucous Guards.