Rufinus sighed as quietly as he could, trying not to sound unhappy with his lot.
‘It’s a bit of a shame he sent me back when he did, sir, since I’ll miss Saoterus.’
For the third time in a hundred heartbeats, every ounce of motion disappeared from the prefect, save the increasingly active twitch beneath his eye.
‘Would you care to repeat that, soldier?’
Rufinus swallowed, nervously. ‘Saoterus, sir. He’s visiting the villa. Should have arrived today, sometime after I left.’
‘And it did not occur to you to mention this before?’
‘It seemed less important sir. After all, Saoterus is…’
‘A devious snake’ Paternus spat with distaste, ‘wrapping his coils around the emperor. A deviant, with designs on higher power… and a lover of men to boot. A catamite and almost certainly a traitor, given time to demonstrate it. For all Cleander is a twisted man, at least he has the decency to make it obvious without all the fawning and eyelash fluttering Saoterus manages. If I could get my hands on the little weasel I would wring him so tightly he’d be bone dry when he died.’
Rufinus found he had taken a couple of steps back during the tirade, the bile and spite in the words projecting as though Paternus had been poking a finger in his face. Rufinus’ mind whirled. His memories of Saoterus had been of a serious and intelligent young man, quiet and reserved. And Pompeianus, whom Rufinus was only coming to realise may be the most respectable and trustworthy person he had met in this whole nightmare, held the young advisor in high esteem, claiming him as the only thing holding the emperor back from disaster.
‘Sir, Saoterus is simply an advisor and he…’
‘Don’t try to sell me this feeble line of the man being the emperor’s conscience. I’ve heard it before. Take it from me: the only time that little deviant is not plotting is when he’s trying to slide beneath Commodus’ bed-sheets!’
Rufinus had taken another step back. This was not the prefect Paternus he remembered from Vindobona, the quiet and thoughtful, reserved and principled officer. It was hard to credit so much anger residing in such a man.
Carefully, he waited until the twitch faded and the prefect’s lower eyelid stopped leaping around and then took a deep breath and made one last effort to be the voice of reason.
‘Respectfully, sir, I heard the villa’s major domo speaking on the subject. It seems that Lucilla and her people are less than happy with Saoterus’ visit. They were making careful plans to keep their guest separated from everything of import. I cannot say what his motives may be for the visit, but I am convinced they have nothing to do with conspiracy and that he is in no way tied to the lady or her machinations.’
Paternus sneered. ‘And of course, you expect me to defer to your boundless experience in the field of politics. Get out of my sight, Rufinus, but keep your kit packed. There’s no furlough or medicus in your future. Tomorrow morning you’re back to that villa as fast as a horse can take you and you stick to Saoterus like bee-glue until you know every little secret.’
Rufinus squared his shoulders, preparing to argue against the idiocy of the order, but caught the look on the prefect’s face and decided against it, saluting and withdrawing from the office as quickly as possible.
Stepping back into the basilica hall, he closed the door with a click and turned to leave, his startled wits causing him to jump and issue a small squeak of shock as he found himself almost nose to nose with prefect Perennis.
‘Walk with me, guardsman Rufinus.’
Sweating, his heart racing from the shock, Rufinus had to hurry to catch up with the man, who was already striding away toward the door that led into the wide courtyard. ‘You don’t like me, Rufinus.’
It was a flat statement, not open to question. Rufinus simply nodded. ‘With respect, prefect, I would say it was mutual?’
Perennis stopped walking and Rufinus almost fell over him. ‘It is that very insolent attitude that informs my opinion against you. I should, by rights, have you beaten for speaking to me like that. Most senior officers would, and I offer you this warning only once: the next time you do so, I will order that beating in a heartbeat. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Prefect.’
‘Very well. We agree that we share a mutual dislike. I’m aware that you are very much Paternus’ pet and you look up to him like an elderly uncle. In my opinion such a relationship is damaging to both of you. In my experience the best results in a military unit are obtained by a relationship built upon a healthy mixture of fear, respect and distance. As such, I hope that our working relationship will be as fruitful as it is unpleasant.’
Rufinus frowned but said nothing.
‘Good. You learn quickly. You will possibly already be aware, given that I credit you with above average intelligence, that I am now the senior prefect and that Paternus is little more than an empty title with a fistful of memories of command. He has a few die-hard supporters who look upon me as an upstart, but they are rallying around a falling star. Paternus will hand over his reins in due course. Within the year, I would say.’
Rufinus felt a sudden pull of regret at the words, though it came as a shock to realise that he didn’t doubt this for even a moment. The display of invective and bile he had experienced in Paternus’ office had been very out of character and suggested the older prefect might be close to cracking under the strain.
Again, he kept his mouth shut.
‘There are snakes all around us, slithering about the palace and whispering in the ears of those in power. We, as the Praetorian Guard, have a duty, Rufinus, to stay above such things. Our job is to protect the emperor and nothing else. We were founded with that very purpose in mind. Our symbol is that of Tiberius’ birth sign. Our history goes back gloriously to even the days when such units guarded men like the immortal Julius Caesar. We are the emperor’s personal guard. His last line of defence.’
Rufinus nodded his agreement. It was a succinct statement of the guard’s purpose that sat worryingly at odds with the conversation he had just had in Paternus’ office.
‘We do not involve ourselves in palace politics. We are not spies or assassins. The emperor has men to do that job – the Frumentarii among others. As such, I have ears in the Villa Hadriana as I understand you now know, but I draw the line at sending one of our men in there in disguise. That is not the job of a Praetorian. Paternus sees things differently. Like his former master Aurelius, may the great man live among the Gods for a thousand thousand years, Paternus is too often led by his heart and not his head.’
He stopped and held out his vine staff, halting Rufinus in his tracks. ‘I regret the fact that you were placed in such an unseemly position for a guardsman. It was foolish and is beneath you. I further regret that Paternus still has enough authority to send you back. But I will tell you this once: forget your patronage to the old vulture. Work with Pompeianus at the villa and report back to me through his sources and we will draw this affair to a close as fast as possible and reassign you to a duty more befitting a member of the noblest military unit in the empire.’
Rufinus looked across at Perennis and nodded slowly. The man was a martinet and lacked the grace and ease of an officer like Paternus, but it was very hard to deny the man’s point. Despite Rufinus’ dislike of the man, he realised that he didn’t have to like him to respect him.
‘Anything to add, Rufinus?’
‘May I speak my mind, sir?’
‘On this occasion, yes.’
‘I would like to know your opinion of Saoterus, sir, since I am about to return to the subterfuge in his presence.’