Germanicus

'Very well.' He turned to the coachman. 'Giton, sit down, please. We'll trust to the lord's good faith.' The guy wasn't used to this, I could see, and that was another point in his favour. He belonged behind a desk or in a library, not out here in the real world. I began to relax. 'First, you know where these places are? Commagene and the others? It's important.'

'Sure.' Geography may not be my bag but I'm not a total bonehead. 'Commagene and Cappadocia are to the north, between us and Armenia. Amanus straddles the main land route through the Syrian Gates to Asia.

'Good. And the kings?'

Shit. The guy should've been teaching school. 'Archelaus of Cappadocia was hauled off to Rome three years back on a treason charge. The other two are just names to me.'

'Very well. Do you know the details of Archelaus's trial?'

'No. Except that it was held in the senate-house, behind closed doors, and that the guy killed himself before the verdict was given.' Like Piso. I felt the first prickle of interest. 'The Wart annexed Cappadocia and turned it into a province.'

'Correct.'

I was getting tired of this. 'Look, you want to do the talking for a change?’ I said. ‘I'm paying for answers, not questions.'

'Patience. So Archelaus died. The other two kings died too, in their own countries but at roughly the same time. Of, it was said, natural causes. Their kingdoms were also annexed.'

'Obviously what you're implying is that the deaths weren't natural.'

'I'm stating it. Both kings died by poison.'

'So you say.'

'So I say.'

The answer had come straight back. Whether he was right or wrong the guy believed it himself. 'And Archelaus?'

'The Lord Tiberius had a personal dislike for the old man. Perhaps he wanted that death to be more…personal.'

I sat back. Shit. This was high-powered stuff. If what Orosius was telling me was true then a hundred and twenty drachs was a fair price. More than fair. 'You've got proof of all this?'

'No, lord.'

Well, at least the guy was frank. 'So where does your pal Vonones come in?'

'He caused the kings' deaths.'

I hadn't been expecting that. 'You're saying Vonones poisoned them?'

'No.' Orosius smiled. 'Forgive me, lord. I'm being melodramatic. Vonones killed them with money. And unintentionally. The kings died because Vonones had bought them and the emperor found out.'

'Why?'

'He was paving the way for a return to Armenia. Probably more, probably Parthia itself. And an alliance with the northern client-kings would guard his southern flank.'

Oh, yeah. Sure. I was disappointed; seriously disappointed. If all the guy had to offer was unsubstantiated rumours and pie-in-the-sky strategic theory two centuries out of date then I was wasting my time here after all. I could've saved myself the climb.

'There's only one fly in the ointment, friend,' I said. 'Or two flies, rather. Us and the Parthians. Artabanus wouldn't take kindly to Vonones setting his bum back on the Armenian throne, let alone the Parthian one. And a couple of our legions could roll up all four of your client-kingdoms inside of a month without breaking sweat.'

If I'd expected that to faze him I was wrong. He just smiled his oily smile.

'This is the east, lord,' he said, 'and you're thinking like a Roman. Give us Greeks credit for a little subtlety.'

'Okay. So convince me.'

'First of all Parthia. Artabanus is royal only on his mother's side, whereas Vonones's father was a king. That, to Parthians, is important. Vonones was driven out with difficulty after a civil war, and he still had considerable support inside Parthia itself when he died. Second, Armenia. The Armenians themselves invited Vonones to rule. Furthermore to the Parthians Armenia is Parthian. A Roman king would be a standing insult, and any Parthian king who accepted him would be seen as betraying his own people.'

'But that's the point, surely. Vonones was a Roman puppet with a Roman outlook. That was the reason the Parthians threw him out in the first place.'

'Wait, lord, please.' He cleared his throat. 'Third, Rome. To us easterners, Greeks and others, Rome means — forgive me, but I must speak frankly — brute force and taxes. Increasingly so in recent years. You are not…sympathetic. Left to ourselves, we would rather do without you.'

'Gee thanks, pal.' I didn't blame him, mind. He had a valid point. When you get down to it we are a set of rapacious sods. Right, but rapacious.

'You may govern Syria proper directly,' Orosius went on, 'but you control the territories to the north and south through local rulers. They aren't committed to Rome except at the crudest level. And the common people don't like you at all. You understand?'

'Yeah.' The guy was right again, despite the high-flown rhetoric. Between Syria and Egypt Roman civilisation has always lain pretty thin. In Judaea even thinner: the Jews have always been a pack of touchy stiff-necked bastards. And there's a lot of hatred around just below the surface, even in the Romanised coastal cities.

'So.' Orosius smiled again. 'That is the situation. Now a scenario. Vonones returns to Armenia. At the same time, on his instructions, the three northern client-kings break with Rome and Amanus fortifies the pass at the Syrian Gates against help from the west. The result?'

The smug little bastard's lecture style was beginning to get to me. 'I told you. The Syrian legions would march north and wipe the floor with them. And the Parthians would throw Vonones out on his ear.'

'True. Unless the kings were supported by a universal — and popular — revolt of the southern territories also. Coinciding with the murder of Artabanus by Vonones's Parthian supporters and a resulting threat from Parthia. As the orchestrator of the revolt Vonones would certainly no longer be regarded as in any sense a Roman puppet. And despite what you said the client kingdoms' armies are not negligible. Especially when one considers they would be fighting within their own territories.'

Jupiter! My scalp tingled. Sure, with four legions on the spot we might weather something like that, but it would be touch and go; far worse than what had happened a dozen years back in Pannonia, and that had been bad enough. Armies and garrisons were cut to the bone throughout the empire already, and Rome's security was the result of a fine juggling act that left no room for major changes. Man for man the client-kings' troops might not be a match for the legions, but they were well armed and well trained. Far better than the Germans or the Pannonians had been. It was possible, sure it was. And if the revolts were synchronised like Orosius was suggesting, and Parthia piled in on the rebel side, then the whole Roman east could go down the tube inside a month. As a scenario it was a potential nightmare.

'You're saying that's what happened?' I said.

Orosius shook his head. 'No, lord. Of course not. I'm saying that's what almost happened. With the deaths — executions — of the three northern kings the revolt was quietly abandoned. The emperor Tiberius is a clever man. Much too clever for a Roman.' Again the oily smile. 'That of course was Vonones's downfall.'

I sat quiet and thought it through. Sure, there were problems, but the way Orosius had described the plan I could see it working. Especially if Vonones had made his move in winter, when with the Syrian Gates blocked it would've been difficult getting reinforcements in by sea or land. The rebels would've had a good three months to consolidate. Time enough, easy.

'So how do you know all this?' I said at last.

'Vonones talked in his sleep. That gave me the main points. The rest — well, it comes from various sources, including my own poor powers of reasoning.'

'One point. Why didn't the Wart have Vonones killed as well? He was behind the whole scam, after all.'

'You're forgetting. Vonones had a strong claim to the throne of Parthia. So long as he was genuinely powerless within the Roman marches he was a useful bargaining chip with Artabanus; certainly too useful to kill out of hand. And with the three kingdoms now under direct Roman control the plot was dead beyond remedy.'