‘Fucking Thracians,’ Magnus grunted. ‘That seems to be their favourite charge. The death sentence and no defence against it, I suppose.’
‘In our law there can be no defence against that charge.’
‘Don’t we know it?’
‘Check him for any concealed weapons, then let’s get this sack of shit to Asinius,’ Vespasian said, aiming another kick at the still gasping priest, cracking a couple of ribs. ‘You’d better come with us,’ he added, nodding at Rhoemetalces.
Asinius had washed away the dust of travel, and was having his purple-bordered toga arranged by his body slave by the time Vespasian and his companions arrived in his tent. They threw the now terrified Rhoteces at his feet. The priest lay there moaning, holding his fractured ribcage.
‘Well done, gentlemen,’ Asinius said, dismissing the slave, who withdrew into the private sleeping area to the rear of the tent. ‘I trust that none of you were hurt?’
‘No, but we got him just in time,’ Vespasian replied. ‘He was about to assassinate his King.’
‘Rhoemetalces, thank the gods that you’re safe. I wouldn’t have recognised you.’ Asinius offered his arm to the young Thracian. ‘I have not seen you since you were a boy, in the Lady Antonia’s house. How is your mother?’
‘She is well, senator, thank you.’
‘I am pleased to hear it. I intend to pay my respects to her on my return journey; I was in too much of a hurry to do so on my way here.’
A loud moan from the floor drew his attention back to the priest.
‘Centurion, have your men stretch this creature out on his back.’
‘Yes, sir!’ Faustus snapped a salute and issued the orders.
Asinius drew his dagger and forced it into Rhoteces’ mouth. The priest struggled fiercely, but was no match for Faustus’ two lads who had him securely by his ankles and wrists.
‘You have two choices, priest, either use your tongue to answer my questions or lose it.’
Rhoteces’ eyes filled with terror; he had never been on the receiving end of administered pain. He nodded his head gingerly in acquiescence.
Asinius withdrew the dagger. ‘Who supplied the money that you used to encourage the tribes into rebellion against your King and Rome?’
The priest answered immediately, speaking slowly. His fractured ribs were clearly making breathing difficult. ‘A Roman of high standing, I don’t know his name. It was done last year through intermediaries.’
‘Not good enough.’ Asinius forced the dagger back into the priest’s mouth and slit the corner of it a thumb’s width. Blood flowed freely from the wound down Rhoteces cheek. ‘Try again.’
‘The intermediaries said they were acting for the Consul, Marcus Asinius Agrippa.’
Asinius hesitated, unable to believe what he’d heard.
‘That’s-’ Vespasian started, but Asinius cut him off.
‘Who were these intermediaries?’ Asinius continued, regaining his composure.
‘Three were Praetorian Guardsmen, but their leader was a civilian, a big man with dark skin and long hair.’ Tears were now flowing down Rhoteces’ cheeks, intermingling with the blood.
‘Did they tell you why Asinius wanted a rebellion here?’
‘They said something about destabilising the Emperor. There were going to be rebellions all over the Empire, and while the legions were busy dealing with them the Republic would be restored.’ Rhoteces’ words were slurred; the wound to his mouth made control of his lips erratic.
‘And they assured you that your rebellion would be successful?’
‘Yes, they said that there would be an uprising in Moesia, and that the two legions there would be pinned down and unable to come to Rhoemetalces’ aid. We would have a free hand.’
‘And you believed them?’
‘Yes. Recruiting officers had come from Moesia demanding that our men serve in the Roman army there. It sounded as if the legions were already under pressure. I saw it as an opportunity to rid ourselves of the oppressive monarchy and return to the old ways, of independent tribes united under our gods.’
‘And you as their chief priest would be the King, in all but name?’
‘I wanted what was best for Thracia and its gods,’ Rhoteces almost shouted, despite his pain.
‘So when the legions arrived, and the rebellion started to falter, you came and offered your services to Poppaeus – why?’
‘After the Caenii failed to stop Poppaeus’ reinforcements from getting through I realised that we could not win, so I came here to try to negotiate a surrender, before things went too far.’
‘Very noble. Why did Poppaeus trust you?’
‘I told him about Asinius’ money. I agreed to come to Rome with him to testify in the Senate against Asinius, in return for my life.’
Asinius shook his head. ‘Perfect,’ he whispered, smiling, before returning his attention to the priest. ‘So Poppaeus is only too pleased to have you, his new friend, negotiate with the rebels for him?’
‘He makes things difficult, too many demands and conditions; I don’t think he wants a surrender, he wants a victory.’
‘And you still want your King dead?’
‘If anything good can come out of this it would be Rhoemetalces’ death,’ Rhoteces hissed, glaring at the King, his bloodied weasel face contorted with the hatred of a fanatic.
Asinius stepped back and looked at Magnus and the two legionaries.
‘Knock him cold, then tie him up in my sleeping quarters and stay with him.’
They did as they were asked with relish.
‘It would seem that Sejanus and Poppaeus have been too subtle even for me,’ Asinius said to Vespasian. ‘To have set me up as the instigator of all this is a masterstroke that I did not foresee. It’s obvious now why they used coinage; it’s much easier to link to me than silver bullion.’
Vespasian stared at him, unable to decide what to think.
‘Oh, come now, you don’t believe him, do you?’ Asinius demanded.
‘No, I suppose not,’ Vespasian replied, remembering that Coronus had said that Rhoteces had been accompanied by Hasdro and some Praetorians on his visit to the Caenii.
‘Good,’ Asinius huffed, ‘because I don’t have the time to defend myself against spurious charges to lowly tribunes.’
‘What about to kings, Asinius?’ Rhoemetalces asked.
‘Or kings. I shall defend myself in the Senate, but if you want some proof, ask yourself why I didn’t have Magnus kill that little shit, eh? He’s going to testify against me if he gets a chance, and what’s more, as far as he’s concerned his testimony will be the truth, so if he’s tortured, as I expect he will be, it will be the same story. So what do I gain by keeping him alive?’
Rhoemetalces looked at Asinius and shrugged.
Asinius gave a look of despair and slumped down on the couch. ‘In order to back up the priest’s story Sejanus will have forged documents, proving that I authorised money to be taken from the treasury. If the priest is dead those documents could still be enough to convict me. If I take him before the Senate they will see that I am not afraid of his accusations. I will be in control of the situation, and will be able to get him to identify the intermediaries as Praetorians and Sejanus’ freedman Hasdro, people over whom I have no control, as every senator well knows. Sejanus’ star witness will be turned against him. So I need to take him to Rome, alive.’
Rhoemetalces looked chastened. ‘I will accompany you and speak on your behalf.’
‘That won’t be necessary; a letter will suffice. You should return to Philippopolis and start to heal-’ Asinius stopped abruptly. There was a commotion outside the tent, and then the flaps flew open. In walked Poppaeus, brushing off the lictors’ attempts to stop him.
‘Good evening, Asinius,’ Poppaeus crooned. ‘This is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company here?’
‘Poppaeus,’ Asinius replied, rising to his feet and signalling to the lictors to return outside. ‘I am here at the request of the Senate and the Emperor.’
‘Messages for the King and this young tribune, no doubt?’