The Art of War

Chapter 81

Rome, 20 December AD 69

Marcus, leader of the silver-boys

The heights of Rome had been ours until this day, when every man and his son decided he owned them too.

Men, women and children were in places only silver-boys had been and so we had to get down to the ground where we were able to move about freely. The soldiers didn’t attack us, and as long as we kept clear of the worst fighting there was profit to be made from doors left ajar and market stalls abandoned.

Early in the day, Pantera had sent me to Drusus, to find out how the emperor was. He didn’t want him harmed, see, although he knew the risk. He said Vespasian wanted Vitellius kept safe and if he — Pantera — couldn’t give him his brother alive, at least he would deliver his enemy still breathing.

So, through the day, whenever I had time, I went back to the palace and Drusus let me in and I knew when the emperor went to hide in his house on the Aventine, thinking at least the enemy soldiers might not look for him there, and then, later, when he returned again to the palace, thinking it better to stay there. He knew they were going to kill him, I think: he didn’t want to die like a rat in a hole.

I took that information myself to Pantera; he was coming out of the House of the Lyre, where another Marcus was working as his runner.

He shook his head when he heard my news. ‘The man is mad. He has absolutely no sense of self-preservation. Geminus should never have left him.’

‘Geminus is near the forum,’ I said. ‘I saw him as I came to you.’

‘Did you? That was well done.’ Pantera’s smile grew wide at that. ‘Could you find him again? Take him a message?’

‘Of course. This is Rome. I can do anything.’