‘Why?’ Valerius persisted. ‘You could have kept us in the fort for a week and sent us away without meeting Publius.’
Vitellius took a deep draught of wine, but Valerius knew the legate was only taking time to think. When the answer came it was a surprise for both its frankness and its tone. ‘I could tell you that I feared you would be persistent — they said: “Give him a challenge and he is like a hound with a bone; he won’t stop chewing until he reaches the marrow” — but that would not be entirely true. You have powerful enemies, young man, and the orders from those enemies were quite specific. They wanted you dead.’
Valerius felt cold fingers settle on his neck. ‘I am on a personal mission for the Emperor. Any man who raises a hand against me does so at his peril.’ Even as he said the words, he realized how impotent they sounded five hundred miles from Rome, at the mercy of a man who could have him killed with a single word.
The legate laughed at his innocence. ‘But which Emperor? There is the Emperor who sits upon his gilded throne, but, as I am sure you have noticed, my good friend Nero can be many Emperors. Perhaps the Emperor who sent you and the person who wished you to have an unhappy accident are one and the same? And there are those around him who wield an Emperor’s influence, and who wish, rightly or wrongly, to protect him from what the irritatingly persistent Gaius Valerius Verrens may find. Then there is the additional possibility that someone with access to the Emperor’s power is protecting not Nero, but himself.’
Valerius straightened. Was Vitellius confirming what Publius had said? ‘You must know who issued the order.’
Vitellius reached to his desk and picked up a document with a wax imprint in its bottom right corner. ‘The imperial seal, very similar to the one you carry. One does not question the instructions which accompany it. You will note that I was also instructed to have Publius Sulla killed the moment he returned to Viminacium.’ Valerius looked down at the dark liquid swirling in his cup. The legate smiled at his edginess. ‘Don’t worry, it is not poisoned. That would be a terrible waste of a remarkably good wine.’
‘But you are still under orders to kill us.’ Valerius’s voice had a hard edge to it and his hand hovered beside the dagger he had smuggled past the guards.
Vitellius gave a delighted shiver. ‘Why, you almost frighten me. Young and hard and dangerous. If I had been the type of man you are, Valerius Verrens, I would not be ruling this dusty outpost, I would be ruling the Empire.’
Valerius stared at him. Those were dangerous words. Words that could very easily get a man killed. ‘And now?’
‘And now, I am afraid, indolence is ingrained too deep. If it was offered to me upon a silver platter I would refuse it. I find work of any kind tires me and it is such a large Empire these days.’
‘I meant what now for us?’
He saw Vitellius frown, genuinely disconcerted. ‘What now? Gaius Valerius Verrens, Hero of Rome, has lived up to his warlike reputation and defeated two attempts on the lives of himself and his associates. It would be remiss of me to allow a third attempt. Whoever ordered this can only expect so much cooperation. With Publius Sulla’s death your mission is completed and you should return to Rome to make your report. You may leave at your leisure or you may return with me, as part of my bodyguard.’ He noticed Valerius’s confusion. ‘I too am to return to Rome, but for a rather more pleasant interview. Nero has awarded me governorship of Africa, where the opportunities for a man of talent are suitably wide-ranging.’ The smile grew broader and Valerius understood he was imagining the huge profits to be made from manipulating Africa’s vast grain exports. But his next words came as a surprise. ‘I will be allowed to appoint a military aide of my choosing. It would not be surprising if I were to select a holder of the Corona Aurea; the gold crown would add lustre to any proconsular retinue. The truth is that I value your soldierly talents, and, as a student of Seneca, your conversation. Of course, this cannot happen until the Emperor dispenses with your services, but, as I’m sure you understand, Africa, for all its rustic provinciality, might be more conducive to your long-term health than Rome. In a way, it is a pity. I have had my legion for less than a year and my enemies will say I have not served because I never fought a battle. But still…’
Valerius studied him, searching for the lie, but he suspected that even if it existed he’d be unable to detect it. If the offer wasn’t a trap, it was remarkably generous. As the governor’s military adviser, he would share his power — and his profits — and, when his term was complete, return to Rome a wealthy man. In addition, and despite his double-dealing and readiness to see him killed, Valerius found he liked Vitellius; someone to be wary of certainly, but likeable none the less. He doubted he would ever be bored.
‘I appreciate your kindness,’ he said non-committally. ‘And it would be an honour to serve as your escort, but I would be neglecting my duty if I didn’t return to Rome at the first opportunity.’
‘Well spoken!’ Vitellius rapped his fist on his desk. ‘And you will return by the quickest route, I promise you. We leave by fast galley in three days, and reach Vindobona six days later. At Vindobona, I will release you from your duties and you can ride to the Emperor immediately. In the meantime, you will be able to update me on what is happening in Rome.’
Valerius bowed his agreement. It seemed there was no escape from Vitellius’s relentless pursuit.
Marcus, Serpentius and Heracles were waiting for him outside the headquarters. He could tell from their faces that they expected the news to be bad, but they brightened when he explained the general’s plans. Marcus nodded approval. ‘Better to be rowed halfway home than to be tied to a horse for two weeks.’
‘True,’ Valerius agreed. ‘But we leave Vitellius at the first opportunity. He might be entertaining, but he’s also dangerous to know, even when he isn’t trying to kill you.’
That feeling was reinforced on the long trip upriver, a journey punctuated by the occasional shout of command, the measured swish of the oars and mesmeric rush of the waters beneath the hull. Vitellius had been a member of the Emperor’s inner circle during the early years of his reign and he had an inexhaustible supply of scandalous, and almost certainly treasonable, gossip about Nero.
‘He was a fine young man,’ the general mused one warm afternoon as the oarsmen powered them towards Aquincum on the river’s broad bend. ‘With all the usual young man’s enthusiasms: drink, Syrian strumpets and vicious amusement. It was unfortunate that he came to the throne before he was fully formed. Power changed him, as it does any man. At first, he was happy to be advised by Seneca and Burrus and he surprised us all by his grasp of the complexities of Empire, but not even Seneca could compete with Agrippina’s meddling. She whipped up a whirlwind when she tried to play the palace aides and the senators off against each other. Eventually, it consumed her.’ He shook his head at the woman’s folly. ‘In the meantime, the Emperor’s passion had moved on from chariots to the overpaid, muscle-bound youths who drive them.’
Valerius learned more than he wanted about Nero’s carnal appetites. The boys, girls and women — of course, he had heard whispers, but Vitellius’s attention to detail when he was in his cups could be stomach-churning. ‘Three Sumerian giants, two virgins and his own aunt… you have never heard such a caterwauling. The rape of Rubria, of course; the debauch of a Vestal virgin was beyond even Caligula’s excesses. We tried to keep it quiet, but at the next inspection…’
When he wasn’t captivated by the sound of his own voice, the general had a voracious appetite for tales of the British rebellion and Suetonius’s reaction; the tactics he had used and why he’d used them, the deployment of auxiliaries and cavalry. Valerius, who was no storyteller, found it increasingly hard to satisfy. In the end he had to repeat the epic of the last stand of the Colonia militia and the final hours of the Temple of Claudius five or six times.