The scowl thawed a little.
I added for good measure, ‘A thousand pardons to your lady, too, for this unwarrantable interruption.’ With Marcus in this mood, I was careful to avoid naming her, for fear of sounding familiar. The widow was called Julia, in fact, but that was such a common name in the Empire — after the famous Emperor — that Marcus always referred to her as ‘Delicta’, or ‘beloved’, to distinguish her from the dozen other Julias that he knew. I hardly felt that I could do the same.
My circumspection seemed to have some effect. Marcus extended a ringed hand. ‘Well?’ He was still sounding stern. ‘There had better be a good explanation.’ He did not invite me to stand.
‘I hope that you will think so, Excellence. Tigidius Perennis Felix is in Glevum, and has sent me in his carriage to fetch you. I am to tell you that there is a banquet for him this evening and he hopes — requests — that you will attend.’
I was expecting an outburst, but there was none. Indeed, there was such a protracted silence that after a while I raised my forehead from the level of his ankle-straps and glanced up at my patron. He was staring into space with a strange expression on his face, as if in the grip of some unaccustomed emotion. I knew what it was, however. I have experienced panic often enough to recognise it when I see it.
‘Master?’ I ventured.
Marcus seemed to come to himself, and he gestured to me impatiently. ‘Oh, do get up, Libertus. I can’t think properly with you grovelling about down there.’ As I obeyed, gratefully (tiled floors are hard on ageing knees), he added, ‘Immortal Jupiter! Felix Perennis. In Glevum! You know who he is, I suppose?’
‘A relative of the former Prefect of Rome?’ I was proud of my earlier deductions. ‘And presumably, since he survived the executions, a particular favourite of the Emperor’s.’
‘Enjoys the imperial favour, certainly. A matter of money, I imagine. I doubt if even Commodus really likes the man.’
‘You know this Felix, Excellence?’ I am inclined to forget that Marcus spent most of his life in the Imperial City.
‘It would be difficult to avoid knowing him. He had a finger in every profitable pie in Rome — forests, vineyards, olive groves, shipping, sheep. No doubt, when his cousin fell, Felix could offer a sufficient sum to persuade Commodus of his own innocence.’
‘A loan?’
Marcus laughed. ‘A bribe. It will be called something else, of course, as these things always are. A donation to some public works, perhaps, but of course Felix won’t expect to have it accounted for. Besides, he has always provided the Emperor with other valuable services as well — women, horses, wine. He also keeps a substantial private guard of the toughest swordsmen that money can buy, and was known to be savagely jealous of his kinsman the Prefect. Altogether, it was obviously enough to save his life.’
‘So now he is enjoying his turn at influence? Travelling the Empire as an imperial envoy?’
Marcus sighed. ‘If only that was all.’
‘There is more?’ I was surprised. What I already knew seemed alarming enough.
Marcus picked up a goblet from the serving tray which had been provided, and held it out absently to be filled. ‘Do you know what happened to Prefect Perennis?’
‘Not entirely. Surrendered to the crowd for justice, as I heard it,’ I said carefully, darting Marcus a warning look. There were slaves present — one was even now filling his goblet — and Zetso was waiting in the servants’ hall. No doubt he was, among other things, a spy, and Felix would have equipped him with adequate bribes. In the circumstances one could hardly be too careful. These were not even Marcus’s own slaves.
Marcus ignored my signals. ‘Thrown to the crowd,’ he said. ‘You know why?’
I did, of course, but I shook my head. ‘It was some time ago.’ I knew how to be cautious, if Marcus did not. I do not enjoy his privileges.
‘Accused of misappropriating funds from the public purse,’ Marcus said, swallowing his wine at a gulp and gesturing for more.
‘Perhaps that was true,’ I ventured. ‘The Emperor in his wisdom. .’ Commodus is a fool and a lecher, but I wasn’t about to question his judgement with the servants listening.
Marcus snorted. ‘Of course it was true. It had been true for years. Commodus knew it, but he didn’t care. He virtually allowed Prefect Perennis to run the Empire — it gave him more time for debauching women, dressing up as a gladiator, flirting with his coachman and generally making a public spectacle of himself.’
‘Excellence!’ I pleaded. This kind of talk could easily get one executed for merely listening to it. ‘The servants.’
He looked surprised. Marcus, like many Romans, is so accustomed to slaves that he thinks of them as animated tools, no more capable of seeing and hearing than chairs or tables. I, on the other hand, was once a slave myself. I could imagine, only too easily, how readily a little gold could loosen household tongues. Every slave dreams of buying his own freedom.
Marcus followed my glance. ‘Ah! The servants. I should dismiss them, do you think?’
I shook my head. ‘With respect, Excellence, I think you should instruct them to wait here. . outside the door.’
He thought about that for a moment, then nodded and gave the order. Then, with the servants safely out of earshot, he turned to me again. ‘Very shrewd, old friend. I should have sent them straight into the arms of Felix’s driver. I was saying. .’
‘You were telling me about Prefect Perennis,’ I said, feeling so weak with relief that I would have welcomed a glass of wine myself. ‘There was a march on Rome by some disaffected lance-bearers, threatening to storm the city because they hadn’t been paid. Commodus was terrified of them, blamed it all on the Prefect, and had him thrown to the mob. That is, as I heard it.’
‘So you did know.’ Marcus sounded aggrieved. ‘Do you also know where those rebellious lance-bearers came from?’
I genuinely didn’t, and I told him so.
‘Well, that is the most significant thing,’ Marcus said, somewhat cheered to have part of the story left to tell. ‘They came from these very islands — part of the Britannic legions. They were in revolt. And when Perennis fell, another man was recalled from disgrace and sent here to restore control. Someone whom Perennis had hated, who was so successful that the troops wanted to make him Emperor. His name was Pertinax. You remember Pertinax?’
I was about to say, ‘Naturally I remember him, Excellence, since he is your patron and my Governor,’ when the implications of this struck me.
‘But surely,’ I burst out, ‘the Governor’s loyalty is not in question? He was almost killed last year putting down that rebellion against Commodus.’
Marcus shook his head. ‘Our revered Emperor distrusts everyone. Perhaps he is right. He had hardly succeeded to the purple before his own sister tried to assassinate him. And the legions did want to acclaim Pertinax as Emperor. Commodus will not forget that.’
‘You think that is why Felix has come? To seek out similar plots?’
Marcus looked at me gloomily. ‘You understand servants, my old friend, but you do not understand imperial politics. The Emperor would not send a conspicuous figure like Felix to discover a plot. He will already have a dozen spies in place.’
Remembering Marcus’s previous indiscretions before the servants, I could only blanch at this revelation. ‘Then why is he here?’
Marcus said gloomily, ‘I imagine he feels that he has scores to settle. It took the rebellion to make Commodus sacrifice his former friend to the mob, but Pertinax had always advised the Emperor against him. And vice versa. It was Perennis who had Pertinax disgraced and exiled in the first place. So when the Prefect fell, Pertinax was recalled to Rome.’
Where, I thought, he would have helped to oversee the aftermath. Felix had seen his kinsmen executed, their estates seized, and their power removed. It had almost certainly cost him a huge sum to escape a similar fate himself. And now here he was in Glevum looking for Pertinax’s closest friend and representative. I could see what Marcus meant. Matters were not looking good.