Coronus said a few words to a couple of guards who bowed and went off to do his bidding.
‘Just over a month ago,’ he continued, ‘the priest came with four Romans and an escort of Greek cavalry. They brought me a chest, and told me that I could keep the contents if I did as Rome asked. As you know I did, and it cost me many men, including a son. It was a high price to pay, too high, but it would have been higher if I had refused. The Romans made that perfectly clear.’
‘Who was this priest?’ Vespasian asked, feeling sure that he wouldn’t be surprised by the answer.
‘His name is Rhoteces, a slippery little shit, but he has the favour of the gods and the respect of the tribes. He was with my men at the river.’
‘So this priest is also Rome’s agent?’ Corbulo asked, unable to believe that such an outlandish-looking creature could be working for Rome.
‘He’s a priest, he can go anywhere in Thracia, no one will harm him or his companions. Who better to carry messages and gifts?’
‘Who sent him?’ Vespasian asked.
‘Rome.’
‘Yes, but who in Rome?’
‘Does it matter? The Romans with him bore the imperial seal; that is authority enough for me.’
‘What did these Romans look like?’ Vespasian asked.
‘Three of them were wearing fine uniforms, very ornate, the fourth was a civilian, a big man with darker skin and long black hair and a small beard; he did the talking.’
Vespasian exchanged a glance with Magnus.
The tent flaps opened and four slaves came in carrying a very heavy-looking chest. They put it down and left.
‘See for yourselves, my friends; look at what Rome paid me to take your lives.’
Corbulo walked over to the chest. It was not locked; he opened it and drew his breath. Vespasian joined him and looked in. His eyes widened. It was full of silver denarii, more than he had ever seen. He dipped his hand in and brought out a handful, letting them clatter back down on to the pile. Each coin had Tiberius’ head on it; each one was as clean and unmarked as the day that it had left the mint.
CHAPTER XXIV
For five days they followed the course of the Hebrus River northwest, stopping only to eat or sleep, pushing their horses as much as they dared. Coronus had given them an escort through his lands, but they had turned back once they’d reached the territory of the Odrysae. Although not in revolt, there was still a bitter resentment of Rome after its violent quelling of that tribe’s rebellion four years previously. Vespasian and his three comrades kept well away from settlements, relying instead on the ample supplies that they had been given by the Caenii and water from the murky but drinkable Hebrus.
His companions took it in turns to quiz Vespasian about how he had come to be in possession of an amulet that guaranteed the protection and friendship of the Caenii, despite the fact that they had been in part responsible for the deaths of hundreds of their warriors and the chief’s youngest son. But Vespasian was unable to tell them any more than he had told Coronus, forcing each man to come up with his own theory.
‘Luck,’ Magnus said, ‘pure and simple luck.’
‘The will of the gods,’ Corbulo opined. ‘It shows us that they have a destiny for every man and enjoy teasing us until it is fulfilled.’
‘Caenis must have the power of foresight,’ Faustus theorised. ‘She saw where you would come into danger and gave you the amulet because she knew it would save you.’
‘And by luck she just happened to have it on her.’ Magnus felt that his case rested.
Vespasian smiled to himself. Each of these theories was in part correct, but there was one thing that overrode all of them: love. Whether it was the will of the gods, luck or foresight, without her love for him Caenis would never have given up her only memento of her mother.
Vespasian, however, had his own concerns. He had no doubts that the chest of denarii had come from Sejanus, using the imperial seal. And that Asinius and Antonia were right: Sejanus was financing the rebellion for his own ends. In destroying the relief column he would be able to go to the Senate, in the Emperor’s name, and demand a more robust approach in Thracia, more legions to punish the Caenii, and no doubt to slyly retrieve his chest of money. This would in turn create more resentment and incite more tribes to revolt, thus escalating the problem and giving him more time and space to seize the purple while the army was looking the other way.
Corbulo would be duty bound to report the chest of denarii, where it had come from and what it had paid for, to Poppaeus. The conversation would be recorded by a secretary, and then copied by others. It would not be long before news of the discovery spread and reached the ears of Sejanus’ agent, who would undoubtedly send a message to his master warning him that the conspiracy risked being uncovered. The agent would then, in all probability, lie low until he received further instructions, which could be two or three months, months in which he, Vespasian, would be unable to get any closer to discovering the his identity.
Feeling sure that Corbulo wouldn’t have been party to a plan that involved his own death at the hands of the Caenii, he decided to partially confide in him one evening, whilst Magnus and Faustus were away watering the horses.
‘Have you given any thought as to who might have paid to see us and our men dead, Corbulo?’
Corbulo looked at him over his long thin nose, his angular face illuminated on one side by the small fire that they had set.
‘Nothing troubles me more, not even how you came to have that amulet in the right place at the right time.’
‘What conclusions have you come to?’
Corbulo looked around to make sure that they were still alone.
‘I cannot believe that it was the Emperor, even though the messengers bore the imperial seal. What would he have to gain by killing two of his own cohorts?’
‘My thoughts entirely. But if it was not the Emperor, who else has access to the imperial seal, and to that amount of newly minted money?’
Corbulo looked down and shook his head.
Vespasian decided to change tack. ‘What do you propose to do once we get to Poppaeus?’
‘I shall report all that we saw, of course.’
‘Would that be in our best interests? After all, whoever paid the Caenii to kill us may well have someone close to Poppaeus, and then he would find out that his conspiracy has been uncovered and, more to the point, who uncovered it.’
Corbulo stared at Vespasian in the firelight as if reappraising him.
‘You’re right,’ he said slowly. ‘And I had you down as a snotty-nosed little thin-stripe tribune; I can see that there is more to you than I thought, Vespasian. So if we’re to avoid the attention of…’ He paused and looked Vespasian in the eye. ‘Sejanus?’
Vespasian nodded.
‘Then I should make my report to Poppaeus in private, no records and no witnesses,’ Corbulo concluded.
‘I think that that is a good idea of yours, Corbulo.’
Corbulo continued staring at Vespasian. He had the odd feeling that it hadn’t been his idea at all.
When Magnus returned later, he sat down next to Vespasian. ‘Did you have a nice little chat with the arsehole, sir?’ he whispered.
‘What do you mean? And he’s not so much of an arsehole as I thought he was. His actions saved a lot of men back at the crossing.’
‘Point taken. I mean what did you persuade the not-so-much-of-an-arsehole to do about that chest of denarii?’
‘How did you know that I was going to talk to him about that?’
‘Stands to reason, don’t it? The more people who know that we know about it, the worse it may go for us. I hope you told him to report in discreetly, if you take my meaning?’
‘I did, as a matter of fact; I got him to agree to report in private to Poppaeus.’
‘Well done, sir. That was a good idea.’
Vespasian peered at Magnus through the darkness and couldn’t help wondering just whose idea it really had been.