He put down the rewound scroll, glanced briefly at another document, then began to roll that up as well, as if his life depended on activity. ‘I think he always dreamed of being Emperor one day. He was accused of conspiring against Commodus, once — and I expect he did.’
‘And yet he lived?’ I was astonished. Scores of others down the years had suffered nasty, lingering deaths, simply for being half suspected of that crime.
The commander nodded. ‘He was acquitted and had his accusers executed instead. As I told you, he has powerful friends.’
‘So we can expect him to be ruthless?’ I murmured doubtfully, thinking of Marcus and what his fate might be in Rome.
‘He has a reputation for it, certainly.’ The old soldier laid the second rewound document neatly by the first. ‘But I am not so sure. When he was governor of Beliga he once put down a rebellion with some force — that’s why he was promoted to the consulate. Yet he really did no more than sit in his provincial capital and sign the papers that the army brought to him. It was the officers in the field who quashed the rebel force. But Didius knew how to word the dispatch back to Rome so that he made himself look like a hero and a patriot.’
I was still trying to get a mental picture of the man. ‘Obviously he’s clever and has a way with words.’ That was a serious asset, I could see. Romans greatly value argument and rhetoric and a powerful orator can often sway the crowd.
‘Clever enough, at least, to pay someone to pay somebody who does. I’m almost sure, from what I knew of him, that he didn’t compose those dispatches himself. Any more than I think he prepared his own defence in that treason case.’ He found the storage jars he wanted and laid the rolls inside. ‘He used to keep a secretary in his retinue, a man who was born to noble rank, in fact, but had been obliged to sell himself to slavery and who had the education and skill to frame the words for maximum effect. Didius made no secret of the fact. He boasted of having paid a handsome sum for him. No doubt he still keeps someone of the kind. He’s has never been afraid to use his wealth for his own advancement.’ He stuffed a bung into a storage jar with unnecessary violence. ‘And now he’s bought himself an Empire.’
I heard the crackle of emotion in the voice and felt I must say something comforting. ‘So let us hope he goes on using bribery and he’ll simply try to buy allegiance from people who used to follow Pertinax.’
‘Gold would not tempt Marcus very much, I think,’ the commander said, as if he were considering the matter carefully. ‘But perhaps he could be bought — a position in the new Emperor’s retinue, perhaps.’
I tried to imagine Marcus as a magistrate in Rome. Perhaps that was the fate that I should wish for him. It would mean at least that he was well and safe — for a little while at least. And no doubt he would fulfil the role with skill and dignity. But I realised suddenly how much I’d miss the man. He was thoughtless and high-handed now and then — ‘arrogant and impulsive’ was what Gwellia would have said — but I was oddly fond of him. And how would I manage without his patronage? Any pavement-maker needs some wealthy man to be his advocate and introduce him to affluent prospective clients.
The thought reminded me of the customer I’d missed and — despite the seriousness of events in Rome (or perhaps because of them) — I found myself wondering selfishly how lucrative that Egidius contract would have been. With Marcus gone, I’d probably never get a big commission of that kind again. And now I’d almost certainly lost the opportunity. I sighed. The client was clearly not the type to tolerate delay, and — whatever Junio had said — was unlikely to call on me a second time.
I was brought back to the present by the commander’s voice. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if Didius did begin by trying bribery. After all, it has already got him where he is.’ He got abruptly to his feet. ‘But he won’t be able to sustain it, if he does. There are too many people who supported Pertinax, and not enough in the coffers to pay even what he has already promised to the Guard. And he won’t keep their support if they don’t get the gold. It’s a dilemma, citizen. If he isn’t harsh and ruthless, he will not last very long. It takes a stronger man than Didius to run an Empire.’
I swallowed. ‘So what do you foresee?’
‘I’ll tell you, citizen.’ He walked over and put the storage jars back on the shelf. ‘There will be wars and uprisings all round the Empire — till someone has succeeded in seizing power from him. One of the provincial governors, I expect. Maybe even the governor of Britannia — he has as good a claim to the purple as Didius Julianus has. I’m half expecting to receive a message saying so and urging me to move in his support. Perhaps I ought to think of writing to him first, suggesting it. Though Jove alone knows what the local populace would think.’ He looked wearily at me. ‘Or what they’ll think about any of these events, in fact.’
‘This news from Rome has not been publicly announced here?’ I said, though I knew the answer even as I spoke. There’d been no evidence of public disturbance on my way, as there surely would have been if the death of the Emperor were known.
The commander shook his head.
‘But there’s been an announcement to the garrison,’ I said, suddenly realising why Cerberus had abruptly changed his mind when I talked of dreadful happenings and needing to send an urgent messenger to Rome.
‘I told the senior officers at once,’ he said. ‘We made a placatory sacrifice to Jove, and decided that the news should be passed on to the other ranks.’
‘That was what was happening when I came in, I think.’
‘Exactly. But we haven’t released the information to the town. The soldiers will all be sworn to secrecy meanwhile, as they always are in anything which touches on the safety of the Emperor, and I’m refusing to see anyone from the colonia today, though of course there’ll have to be a public proclamation later on. Exactly when, I couldn’t say. I have left that decision to the curia.’
‘Really? Isn’t it really a matter for yourself?’
He ran a distracted hand through his thinning hair again. ‘It affects the civic powers as much as anyone — and besides, citizen, I am in need of their support.’ He said it simply, but I could see the force of it. ‘I called them here as soon as the message was confirmed,’ he went on, ‘and they went away to discuss exactly what to say, and when — though they want me to put troops out on the street when the announcement’s made. And I agreed. It would be a wise precaution. There were civic riots when Commodus was deposed.’
I nodded. ‘I have vivid memories of that night. I was almost trampled by excited crowds.’ Almost lynched, was nearer to the truth. They had been dragging down a statue of the hated Emperor and setting fire to anything that had his name on it: sign-boards, carvings — even coins — while anyone who didn’t join them in these activities found themselves in danger of being set upon. The frenzy of that violent mob had been terrible to watch — like some sort of new-hatched monster which uncoiled itself and devoured anything which crossed its path.
‘That night was frightening,’ I said. ‘But Commodus was loathed — Pertinax is … was … well-respected, if not exactly loved.’
‘Which makes it very likely to be worse this time, unless we fill the streets with soldiers first — and even then it might be difficult to maintain control. Pertinax was governor of this province once, and gained a name for justice and fair play, so Mars alone knows what disturbances this news is going to cause. And if I don’t handle this with care — if a citizen gets injured or a soldier killed — I’ll give the new authorities the opportunity they need to have me relieved of duty and recalled to Rome.’
I could see his dilemma. ‘So you are in no hurry to have the news proclaimed.’
He had taken up station by the wall again. ‘Frankly, I would prefer to do it as soon as possible — I don’t want to be rebuked for reluctance to acknowledge Didius. But I suspect that the announcement may be made at dusk, when the gates are due to close to travellers and most people are abed. Let’s just pray to all the gods that rumour doesn’t get there first. There must be traders on their way to us by now who have already heard the news elsewhere.’