'The real explanation of this evil is at hand.' The old emperor looked fondly, almost devotedly, at Macrianus. 'Christians! Our orders for persecution have not been implemented with true religious zeal. The gods punish us, Phoebus Apollo unleashes his arrows on us, because still we let many of these atheists live.' Valerian's voice began to fill out with an almost youthful vigour.
'All this will change tomorrow. Through the piety of our devoted friend Macrianus and the diligence of the head of the frumentarii, Censorinus, those disgusting atheists here in Samosata have been apprehended. There are many of them. Men and women. Tomorrow they will burn. Their ashes will be scattered to the four winds.'
A wistful look came into the emperor's eyes. 'All will be well. Long-haired Apollo will turn aside his bow. The kindly gods will hold their hands over us again. Our subjects will behold in the broad plains the crops already ripe with waving ears of corn, the meadows brilliant with plants and flowers, the weather temperate and mild. The strength of our arms will return. The Persian reptiles will flee before us. United we will conquer. Let us rejoice. Through our piety, through our sacrifices and veneration, the natural gods, the most powerful gods, will have been propitiated. The gods will smile on our endeavours. Let us rejoice!'
As the basilica echoed to the acclamations of his piety and wisdom, the silver-haired emperor slumped back on to his throne as if exhausted. After the thirty-fifth 'Valerian, happy are you in your piety, safe are you in the love of the gods, safe are you in our love,' it was quiet. Macrianus came forward to the edge of the dais. He leaned on his walking stick topped with the silver effigy of Alexander the Great. 'Comites Augusti, Companions of the Augustus, our noble emperor desires your advice on how to proceed against the Persians. He commands you to speak freely.'
Several hands shot up. Macrianus indicated that his own amicus, Maeonius Astyanax, should speak. 'There can be no doubt that the sagacity and piety of the emperor will avert the displeasure of the gods and sweep away the plague. But some five thousand fighting men have died, many more are sick. Just as it does with a man, it takes an army time to recover from illness. We are in no condition to campaign. We must stay here in Samosata and convalesce. An embassy must be sent to the Sassanids to negotiate a truce. The envoys should take rich gifts, the sort of luxuries that turn the head of an avaricious barbarian such as Shapur.'
There was a general rumble of approval. As Macrianus gave Pomponius Bassus the right to speak, it occurred to Turpio that the lame courtier had usurped the role of the ab Admissionibus. That functionary stood impotently at the back of the dais. Cledonius appeared to be fuming.
Striking an oratorical pose, Pomponius Bassus began. 'There is a time for war and a time for peace. A time for tears and a time for rejoicing.' Turpio heard Ballista exhale with irritation as the nobleman's sententious phrases rolled out. 'A time for love and a time to hate.'
Four more of the comites had spoken in favour of the proposal when Ballista raised his hand. Turpio was surprised, and even more so when Macrianus gave the northerner permission to speak. Out of the corner of his eye, Turpio thought he saw the sons of Macrianus smirking.
'With all due respect, I do not agree.' There was silence at Ballista's words. 'To open negotiations is to show weakness, never more so than in time of war. It will only serve to encourage the superbia of the eastern barbarians. To initiate diplomacy is not the Roman way. Embassies come to the emperor. He does not send them. Has not emperor after emperor interpreted embassies from the Indies and beyond as tokens of submission?'
A hostile muttering ran through the basilica. Ballista ploughed on. 'We should not remain in Samosata. Plague comes to armies that remain in camp. We should take the field. If we impose strict disciplina on the march to Edessa, issue rigorous orders for hygiene and the digging of latrines, the plague is more likely to abate.' One or two of the comites, led by Quietus, sniggered.
Macrianus gave Piso Frugi permission to have the floor. Another of Macrianus' creatures, thought Turpio. 'While I will bow to Ballista's knowledge of barbarians and latrines' – he paused for laughter – 'I think none of us here need his advice on the ways of the Romans.' There was more laughter. 'The previous speakers were right. We must buy time with glittering trinkets.'
Amid the roar of approval, Macrianus turned and smiled encouragingly at the emperor. The hubbub died as Valerian laboriously got to his feet. 'We have heard your opinions. We thank you for them. Free speech is the heart of libertas. We have made up our mind. An embassy will be sent to Shapur. It will take costly gifts. It will speak soft words. It will make a truce. It is the Roman way to send young men, those not yet of the highest rank, to deal with barbarians. The ambassadors will be the son of our beloved Comes Sacrarum Largitionum Titus Fulvius Iunius Quietus, the fierce young fighter from the Danube Lucius Domitius Aurelian and Marcus Clodius Ballista.' As soon as he had stopped talking, Valerian reached for the arm of Macrianus and left.
Both Ballista and Aurelian looked utterly dumbfounded. Quietus, however, appeared merely pleased.
Outside, Turpio stood waiting for other members of the consilium to finish congratulating Aurelian and Ballista. Fair-weather friends, he thought. From the town stretched out below him came the bells of the libitinarii, accompanying the carrying out of more of the dead.
Turpio really could not believe Ballista's claim that Macrianus was plotting to overthrow Valerian. But, every day, the Comes Sacrarum Largitionum seemed to have more control over the aged emperor. The consilium had been carefully orchestrated. It did seem that the lame one could do whatever he wished. Turpio wondered why Macrianus had chosen to have his son Quietus accompanied on the embassy by Aurelian and Ballista. Certainly the hateful courtier did nothing without a reason. Turpio played some lines of poetry over in his mind. May the earth cover your corpse lightly, loathsome Macrianus, so that the dogs have less trouble digging you up. Across the river from Samosata, the road to Edessa ran over high plains and rolling hills. It was a dry landscape. Already in April the yellow-grey, sometimes reddish, soil was powdered and dusty. Sometimes, away from the road, the hills bunched up into real mountains, bare and closely folded, but Ballista was surprised by the general openness of the terrain. He was not pleased. He had thought the countryside would be more rugged, unsuitable for large numbers of horsemen. He had thought that, when the infantry-based army of the Romans finally marched, it would be reasonably sheltered, at least as far as Edessa, from the cavalry horde of the Sassanids. Now he knew that would not be the case.
The embassy was moving very slowly. Each of the three ambassadors had brought their servants; just a few for Aurelian and Ballista himself, a glittering cavalcade for Quietus. There were six interpreters and thirty packhorses carrying the diplomatic gifts, with half as many men again to look after them. There were twenty Dalmatian troopers to protect them from the nomadic tent-dwellers. But it was none of these that were slowing the pace, it was the garlanded ox that was being driven ponderously along at the front of the caravan. Quietus never missed an opportunity to sneer at its presence. But Ballista had insisted on it. Long ago, he had learned from Bagoas, the Persian slave boy he had owned, that it was a sign the Sassanids used to show they had accepted peace terms. Another was the bags of salt that he had ordered tied to the standards. To be sure, there was a Roman herald, complete with diplomatic wand, up front with the ox. But the symbols of one culture might mean something else or nothing at all in another. First contact with the enemy would be a dangerous moment. He did not want all his men riddled with Persian arrows before they had a chance to explain they were envoys who came in peace.