And beneath his elation, and beneath his sadness, a dark wyrm of hatred seethed for the man who had engineered almost everything that had happened in his life since he left the Tenth legion: Paternus.
The great palace of the emperors of Rome stood on the Palatine hill, brooding over the city it dominated. Successive rulers had added wings, complexes, gardens and more, until it covered a greater area than the forum itself. The glinting silver-and-white forms of Praetorians moved around the area, going about their tasks with efficiency. Others stood rigidly at attention by doors and gateways of the palace.
With no ceremony, nor exchange of words, the three men were admitted to a grand structure that led off the square at the centre of the Palatine hill; the tallest and most magnificent building visible, the structure had a delicate columned portico with a colourful pediment, gold and white columns granting it an almost divine appearance.
Up the steps, past the guardsmen and between the beautiful columns, they went, Rufinus’ sour expression hovering constantly on the verge of open rage. The huge bronze doors of the building opened as they approached, as though by some strange mechanism, revealing a room forty feet square.
The floor was a complex design of multi-coloured marbles from around the empire: a dazzling display of opulence and power mirrored by the columns of the same material lining the side walls. The coffered ceiling was gold and reflected the braziers and lamps that lit the hall more than did the delicate glass windows high up near the roof. Behind the side columns, red and gold designs on the walls picked out the great creatures of myth, and centaurs, gryphons and hydra seemed to move and dance in the shimmering light. Doors to left and right and in the rear corners all had their own Praetorians.
The centrepiece of the room, though, was the throne. Installed by Domitianus in the apse at the rear, the great gilded seat had been eschewed as over-the-top by the Antonine dynasty, though the same apparently did not hold for the new emperor, whose cloak of ermine and Tyrian purple wool lay discarded upon it.
The emperor himself had his back to the door, deep in conversation with Perennis. Rufinus took a deep breath as the three men crossed the room towards the ruler of Rome and came to a halt a respectful distance away, waiting to be noticed.
The low angry exchange between the two men came to an end and Perennis looked up, spotting the new arrivals. ‘Guardsman Rufinus is here, majesty.’
Commodus spun on his heel and Rufinus was unsurprised to see the look of drawn anger on his face. More surprising were the signs that he had recently been crying. It was hard to imagine the great Aurelius greeting visitors with fresh tears in his eyes, though his son seemed more prone to public emotion.
‘Rufinus!’ the great man snapped.
‘Majesty?’
‘Tell me about the conspiracy you unearthed at the villa.’ There was no preamble, no sign of appreciation, just a direct, almost accusatory question.
‘Of course, Majesty. There were regular meetings, usually monthly, between the conspirators. They met in a private triclinium in your noble sister’s palace and…’
‘Cut to the chase. Who were they?’
Rufinus bowed his head, sure already where this was going. ‘With respect, majesty, the conspirators have been detailed and apprehended… along with master Saoterus, I believe.’
The change of tack seemed to throw Commodus and he frowned. ‘So you claim never to have labelled him with the others?’
Rufinus shook his head and then straightened. ‘Majesty, I reported master Saoterus’ visit to the villa but once to prefect Paternus. I attempted to make clear my impression that he was there on state business and not for any clandestine reason, an impression that was borne out when I returned and managed to speak to the man. He informed me of a deal he had come to propose, of which you yourself, majesty, had some part in the planning.’
Commodus nodded. ‘My generous offer. Why then does Paternus tell us that you listed my friend among the conspirators?’
Rufinus swallowed nervously. It was never a good thing to accuse a man in such high position of lies and treachery, but Paternus had crossed the line several times now, and Rufinus was beginning to wonder where the man would stop. If he would… ‘Majesty, I believe that the prefect held a personal grudge against master Saoterus. I fear that he may have deliberately misunderstood, or possibly even ignored, my testimony in order to remove your advisor from his position.’
Perennis, behind the emperor’s shoulder, nodded approvingly at Rufinus. ‘I have to say, majesty,’ the prefect said calmly, ‘that I am inclined to trust young Rufinus’ word on this. I have noted increasingly erratic behaviour on the part of my colleague over the past two years, though it would have been unprofessional for me to have brought such to your attention without good reason.’
Commodus spun back, his eyes narrowing as he glared at his prefect, and then turned once again to Rufinus. ‘Would you swear to the truth of your testimony on the altar of Apollo?’
‘I would, majesty.’
Again, Commodus spun to look at Perennis. ‘Go find your counterpart and have him attend the temple of Apollo. I believe he is in the libraries.’
Perennis saluted and scurried off through the rear left door. As the portal shut behind him with a click, the emperor of Rome turned to Rufinus again, suddenly seeming to become aware of the two other guardsmen standing at his shoulders.
‘Thank you, men. You two have my gratitude for the part you played and your next wage will reflect my appreciation. You may return to your barracks.’
Mercator and Icarion saluted and gave their young friend an uncertain look as Commodus gestured for Rufinus to follow him, making for one of the side doors. As he passed through, the guards by the side saluting him, he waited with Rufinus at the far side until the door closed with a click, and began to saunter slowly through this new and highly decorated room.
They were alone.
Commodus put an arm around Rufinus and the young guardsman nearly pulled away. Such contact was unheard of… forbidden. The emperor smiled at him.
‘Pompeianus tells me as is his wont, for he is a creature of plain speech, that my court is a hotbed of intrigue and that serpents crawl and slither in my palace, hissing falsehoods in my ears. Such has always been the case, of course, even with the best of men in control.’
The golden-haired emperor slouched slightly, as a sparkle returned to his eye that Rufinus had not seen since the bath house of Vindobona’s fortress. ‘I could not in good conscience place myself up with those best of men, of course, and I simply do not have time to devote to the personal management of every aspect of empire. My father was one of the greatest rulers in the history of the world, and even he had to bring Verus to his side to help him rule. It is too big a job for one man, Rufinus.’
Rufinus nodded. He could hardly imagine the power and pressure the position must load upon a man. The image of the tired and pale Aurelius back in the hall at Vindobona sprang to mind.
Commodus smiled as he went on. ‘Perhaps someday a man will rise to the top and take a similar role with me as Verus had with my father. I had offered it to Pompeianus’ son and may yet do so, in time. I would, almost certainly, have considered Saoterus for the honour, but he would have had to have served in the army, the senate and attained a consulship first before I could realistically do so. Until such a time, those very snakes will have to continue to writhe in my chambers.’
He grinned, and all signs of the morose and tearful man had now gone. ‘It warms the heart to see that there is still honour and honesty in Rome, especially in the Praetorian Guard, given recent events.’
They had reached the far door and Commodus led him through it, into a wide garden surrounded by a delicate, beautiful portico. The sky was beginning to slip from cold blue to purple with the onset of night, and slaves scurried around lighting lamps and closing windows.