‘Not to Rome? To the senate and the people? Not to your prefect who plucked you from obscurity and cast you into life in the highest circles of the empire?’
Rufinus swallowed nervously. Was this some sort of trick? Pertinax was a senator, after all. There had been countless secret groups and failed coups in the senate over the past two centuries who had tried to do away with the imperial role entirely and return to a system of republican government.
And yet… Paternus?
Rufinus remembered the relationship between the prefect and the former emperor Marcus Aurelius. They had appeared to be more than fellow commanders: they had been friends. Paternus was no republican conspirator and therefore, by extension, neither were these men.
‘No, senator’ he replied calmly. ‘As a soldier, my life is given over to the protection of Rome, its senate and people, yes. But my first duty and loyalty is always to the emperor and then to the eagle of the Praetorian Guard.’
Pertinax sat back, his face giving nothing away. ‘And if we were to ask you to perform acts of betrayal for the good of the emperor?’
Rufinus, settling into his position, shook his head. ‘If it is for the good of the emperor than it is not betrayal, senator. Such a proposal is clearly contradictory.’
Pertinax laughed and turned to Paternus. ‘He certainly thinks on his feet. He’s bright enough. Do you think he’s subtle enough? Bear in mind the stakes.’
Paternus nodded and leaned forward in turn. ‘Rufinus? Tell me about your nemesis, Scopius.’
Rufinus’ blood suddenly ran cold. He felt like a man standing in a dark room full of traps. Every step could end his life. ‘Sir?’
Paternus rolled his shoulders and leaned back. ‘Rufinus here has been plagued by a guardsman with a grudge for almost a year. I have had at least a dozen reports of incidents caused by a man called Scopius. Theft, beatings, tricks and deceit. The villainous cur was even responsible, we believe, for Rufinus receiving the lash, following that little fracas during the emperor’s triumph. I’m sure you all remember the incident?’
There were nods all around.
‘And a few days ago,’ Paternus continued, ‘this Scopius disappeared entirely. It’s almost as if Jupiter reached down, plucked him from the earth and secreted him among the clouds.’
He smiled. ‘There is not an ounce of evidence against Rufinus. Even the circumstantial evidence is sparse. Perennis took it upon himself to personally lead the investigation into the matter, and you know how much of a wolf Perennis is? Once he gets the scent, he doesn’t let up until he has his prey. Yet even he cannot come up with anything against the man. Scopius disappeared one morning, leaving Rufinus free from trouble.’
He turned the smile on Rufinus. ‘I am regretful that pressing business kept me from your interview this morning, Rufinus. I would have enjoyed watching Perennis seethe as he failed to pin anything to you.’
The senators were nodding appreciatively and Paternus concentrated an intense look on Rufinus. ‘What we are about to discuss never leaves these walls. I want your oath on the Praetorian eagle.’
Rufinus nodded emphatically.
‘I swear… on the eagle, sir.’
Rufinus’ heart began to beat just a little faster. This was not about him and his recent activities and that knowledge had lifted a weight from him. But being sworn to silence on the guard’s own eagle and included in a secret apparently shared only by the most powerful military officer in the empire and three of the most senior senators pointed down an entirely new shady path strewn with dangers and pitfalls. Rufinus held his breath as Paternus straightened again.
‘We have reason to believe there is a plot against our emperor.’
The senator called Gallus gave a short bark of a laugh. ‘One of several, I’m sure. One would think we had returned to the old days of dreadful successions, with generals crawling out of the woodwork from distant provinces, clawing at the purple robe; men with no command of Latin and the mental capacity of a honeyed lark claiming to be ‘Emperor of Rome’.’
Paternus shot him a look and then turned back to Rufinus. ‘We have good reason to suspect an attempt on the emperor’s life will come from within the folds of his own family.’
Rufinus felt his blood chill. The image of Perennis’ clandestine meeting with the emperor’s sister in the tavern swam into focus in his mind.
‘You refer to the lady Lucilla, sir?’
Pertinax nodded again. ‘Perceptive, too. Yes, Rufinus… the emperor’s sister and her conspiratorial companions. It is no secret that she is on poor terms with her brother and that she believes her line to be the natural succession, through Verus and herself to her children. For all my solid loyalty to our emperor, a good rhetorician would find the argument an enticing one. Verus was co-emperor with Aurelius, after all. Therefore, Lucilla’s line descends from both co-emperors, with Commodus from only his father. If Lucilla’s and Verus’ son had lived we would have seen deadly division in the senate, I’m sure.’
There was a moment’s pause as the others pondered on the comment and just for a moment, as Pertinax locked eyes once again with Rufinus, the guardsman saw something deep within them that he would never dare put voice to. Was it hunger? Certainly it had a feral edge to it.
Paternus, nodding, took up the conversation. ‘We’ll not go deeper into reasons now, though, lest we descend into a gaggle of gossiping miscreants. Suffice it to say that we are almost certain that the viper Aurelius unwittingly bore is hatching a plot against her brother. What we are unsure of is how, when and by whom an attempt will be made.’
A sinking feeling overcame Rufinus. He was suddenly aware of the reason behind this meeting and his inclusion in it. Should he tell them about Perennis? Everything about the situation screamed at him of that secret meeting’s importance and yet for some reason he was recalcitrant and could not have explained why. Something deep in his subconscious bid him hold his tongue.
‘Sir…’
‘Yes, Rufinus, we need to know more. If we are to prevent the emperor’s murder, we need to be better informed of the threat. We cannot rely on signs and portents such as foretold Caesar’s end. We must have solid confirmation. As such I am placing you on detached duty. You will take a place in the lady Lucilla’s household and gather the information that we need.’
Rufinus felt the nerves rising. This was hardly a task for the guard. ‘Sir, I’m a soldier, not…’
Paternus had his hand up. ‘You are clearly the best man for it. Lucilla has spent most of her adult life with the Praetorian Guard surrounding her. She knows most of the officers. A Praetorian carries a certain stance that she will recognise. You are new enough that you have not the haughtiness of a veteran guardsman yet and, although she has met you, you were bearded, unkempt and battle worn then. She could not recognisable you now. You’re brave and resourceful and not a little subtle as your recently unprovable endeavour has shown.’
He leaned back. ‘You are clearly the man for the job, Rufinus.’ He cast a questioning look at the senators, who nodded, murmuring their assent.
Rufinus felt he had returned to the dark room of traps. ‘How am I supposed to find my way into her service, sir?’
Pertinax smiled and sat forward. ‘Lucilla is occupying the villa constructed by the emperor Hadrianus at the town of Tibur some fifteen miles east of the city. The villa is extensive and was given to her by her father. It is also remote enough for her to plot and plan away from prying eyes and ears. She is assembling a small army of hired guards to control the estate. You will don the tunic of a standard legionary and present yourself at the market of Tibur where such men are hired. You will there contrive to have yourself hired.’
Rufinus, the whole idea seeming ridiculous, simply nodded blankly.