Seagulls wheeled overhead as Aelius Burrus and Cornelius made their way along the crowded waterfront in Rome's seaport town of Ostia. Docks lined the shore on one side of a major street, row upon row of insulae stood along smaller alleys on the other side. Hawkers shouted their wares, drivers and bearers cursed pedestrians, and ragged children were everywhere. Older teenage boys stood on corners looking for trouble. This was where Rome's working poor spent their lives.
"Now you see why I was so willing to join up to get out of here," Cornelius said.
Burrus looked around. Centurions, such as the men of his family had been for three generations, could make three times the pay of an enlisted man. Careful management and business sense could provide a decent life. He had grown up in the vicus, but lacked for nothing, and his family was comfortable.
"I've seen some rough places back home but this is poverty," he said.
"Talk to me," Cornelius said.
His family were technically patrician, of the gens Cornelii, with ties to the Scipios and Gracchi. In reality, the last real Scipios died about two hundred years ago and the only wealthy person he had ever known was a great-uncle who owned several insulae and took shares in the shops on the street level. Cornelius' father, who had been discharged from the army after an accident crippled his leg, served as a property manager for the uncle. He had been married twice. Cornelius and three sisters were born of the first union. A second marriage produced two more daughters. When Cornelius' father died, his stepmother married again. Her new husband adopted the two younger girls. Relatives took the other three. Cornelius, about twelve at the time, went to work as a runner for his uncle, but otherwise lived in the streets or with friends' families, till he enlisted.
"My uncle wanted me to go into shopkeeping but I just didn't have the head for it," Cornelius said. "He wanted me to be a clerk or a notary, but I'm not a desk man. I went to the army and he got pissed, cut me loose."
"Then why come back to it?" Burrus asked. "If they didn't want you, screw 'em."
"My youngest sister is the only one I care to find," Cornelius said.
He led the way to an apartment building and climbed to the third floor. He knocked on a door at the end of a dingy hallway. An old woman opened it, saw two soldiers standing there, and paled.
"I grew up here," Cornelius explained. "My family lived in your apartment at the time. I'm trying to find my sister, a younger woman, who went by the name Tertia Cornelia. She had a dark brown birthmark on the side of her face."
"She doesn't live here," the old woman snapped.
"Well, I didn't mean any bother," Cornelius said.
The woman shut the door as Cornelius pondered.
"I'm trying to remember where my mother's cousin lived," he said as they went downstairs.
"Let's get something to eat," Burrus said.
They went to a taberna and joined the line to the counter. A woman came up behind them. As Cornelius scanned the buildings around them for landmarks, Burrus caught sight of her face. A dark smudge went across her left cheek.
"You wouldn't go by the name Tertia Cornelia, by any chance?" he asked and nudged Cornelius.
"Yes," she said.
Cornelius turned to her.
"I'm Publius Cornelius Scipio," he said. "My father was Gaius Cornelius Scipio. My mother was Solpia. I had three younger sisters."
She looked at him as though she was seeing a ghost.
"My brother would be your age and he did go into the army," she said. "If you are my brother, you had two habits that drove us crazy."
Cornelius began cracking his knuckles, then rolled his tongue and made a sound like an owl. Tears spurted to Cornelia's eyes.
"It is you!" she cried out.
They embraced, ignoring the stares of the people around them. Burrus bought food at the counter and led them to a table.
"So are you in a legion?" she asked.
"Second Cohort of the Italian Band," he said. "We're in Antioch now."
"Where's that?" she asked.
When he explained, she gasped.
"Were you part of the army that beat Parthia?"
"Yes," Cornelius said.
"Why'd they crucify that boy?" she asked. "What was his story?"
"You would have to know Bolt," he said.
"You know Mark Antony's grandson?" she said.
"He's a very nice young man," Cornelius said. "Married, though, but nice."
She chuckled.
"Publius, I'm on number three. He's the best one yet, but no Mark Antony."
...
Junia sat alone in her father's townhouse, listening to Epona squeal and run around in the nursery upstairs. At three, she was putting words together and had a mind of her own.
"Where's Father?" she asked. "Where's Brother?"
"I don't know," her nursemaid responded.
Junia got up, poured some water in a basin and splashed her tearstained face. Gaius and Sejana had taken Lucillus that morning. Junia tried again to apologize to Sejana, who wanted none of it.
"Where are they sending Lucius?"
"To Gaul. What's it to you?" Sejana asked.
"I didn't mean to get Bolt and Juba in trouble," Junia said.
"You're either incredibly vicious or completely stupid," Sejana said. "You know our family is watched."
"Which is why it scared me when Juba said what he said and Bolt kept badmouthing that damn wreath. I could always talk to my father when I was upset and I did and it bit me in the ass."
"And then some," Sejana said. "But Juba and my Marcus will be posted in Egypt and Fortuna and I will take care of your son."
"Please let me know how he's doing," Junia said.
"I will," Sejana said.
Thinking over the conversation, Junia put her head in her hands and wept.
...
Julius looked at yet another batch of court documents as his head spun.
"This damn day needs to stop," he snapped.
Claudius took the documents and read them. The morning after Juba received his orders, the Praetorian escort that had arrested him and Juba in Brundisium left them both with Julius. Not sure he should venture home, Claudius decided to stay there until the Antioch contingent went on their way and, maybe, Tiberius forgot about the Antonys. What he read in the paperwork let him know that he would be staying with Julius for quite some time.
"Did you know any of this was going on?" Julius asked.
"Some of it," Claudius muttered.
Uganilla had several lovers, one of whom was Plautius Silvanus, a Praetor or civil magistrate. Silvanus and his wife Apronia were a popular society couple, seen at all the banquets and performances. A few days before the wedding of Nero and Aemilia Lepida, though, Apronia had been found dead in her garden below her second-story bedroom window, with her neck broken.
Tiberius followed the case as closely as he tracked the personal lives of much of Roman society. Silvanus was charged with the murder of his wife and tongues began to wag about his many affairs, including with Uganilla, which tied in Claudius. No one suspected him of murder but the fact that his wife misbehaved pointed up his inability to be a real man and keep her in line, which pissed Tiberius off even more. He was demanding a Senate investigation of the murder, and the arrest of Uganilla and her sister-in-law on charges of witchcraft. He was also demanding copies of the documents relating to Claudius' divorce.
"I'm divorcing her," Claudius said. "What else does he need to know? What else do I have to do?"
"Do what we always do. Keep our mouths shut and play along. Give him the documents and keep him pacified."
....
Antonia opened a message from Tiberius, and as she scanned the lines, it was clear he was not happy with anyone in his extended family.
...Young Marcus is a spoiled brat, apparently, as moody and mouthy as Juba at his worst. But at least both he and Juba know, as did Germanicus, that they are brood stock first, then soldiers, and damn good ones. Drusus has neither produced an heir, nor made any indication he wants the army, and I hold no hopes that Nero will prove any better. Claudius has a son, but cannot keep his wife at home and picked a damn fine time to divorce. That on top of Lucius' mess is drawing the wrong kind of attention...
Antonia dropped the tablet on her desk.
"And what am I supposed to do about any of it?" She said aloud.
She was already looking for a new wife for Claudius. She could not make either of Germanicus' sons reproduce, let alone guarantee another Young Marcus. She had hosted the Ovation festivities, or what was left of them after most allied delegations backed out. Tiberius himself had also chosen to stay away, spending more time on Capri building his villa than anything else. He was creating his own mess by not being visible. What could anyone do about that?
....
Lucius paced his room in the family quarters of the castrum, trying to think of every angle for a possible defense to his divorce. He was willing to let Junia go, but the idea of parting with his daughter made him sick. He had hoped that she would be another Victoria, a crack rider, a keen shot, a hard worker and talented. But General Marcus and Gaius had decided to save a young Antony stud, Lucillus, and let the filly go with her mother. In the end, like Charon, he and his son, and Bolt, were breeding stock and little more.
An orderly brought supper. General Marcus allowed Lucius and Bolt to use the dining table rather than eat in their rooms. Bolt sat down opposite him at the table, ladled puls into a bowl and found a piece of bread. He had dropped weight and looked older than his eighteen years. Still a provisional Tribune, he was facing a death sentence while in his teens.
"I should have gone to Rome," he said. "I did disobey a summons from the Emperor, and I did it because I was scared of going to Capri. I guess I'm a coward. I guess I'm guilty."
"No, you're not," Lucius said.
"And I have to testify against you, so that makes me a snitch on top of it. I will be no better than Junia."
"Marcus, stop overthinking this and upsetting yourself," Lucius said. "You can also testify for me, as well as against me, as I will you."
"How?" Bolt asked.
"None of this is a secret. I am Jewish. I do practice it. I shouldn't have pushed the circumcision. You've attended some meetings."
"And I can drag Eli and Flavius and Julius and Young Aulus down," Bolt said.
"They aren't on trial and at the end of the day this has nothing to do with my divorce or my beliefs or even that wreath. It's to do with that damn letter. Tiberius has to know that the way he lives is common knowledge, and it's scaring the shit out of him."
"And he's kicking us again because we're Antonys and it's convenient " Bolt said. "So we beat it how?"
"We only say what we need to do get through the process," Lucius said.
"Well and good, but you have a civil offense. I have to die!"
"No, you don't," Lucius said. "Punishment is discretionary with the commander. Why do you think Marcus is keeping it here?"
Life flickered in Bolt's eyes as he connected the dots.
"The Julii prey on their young," Lucius said. "We safeguard and train ours. Kill you and who becomes the next Antony Proconsul or Legatus?"
Bolt nodded as the big picture formed in his mind.
"Just play the process along," Lucius said. "We are guilty in some aspects, innocent in others."
"We plead and throw ourselves on Uncle Marcus' mercy, which I trust," Bolt said. "But I still don't like it that we get dragged in the mud. I'd like to see anyone bear up what you went through, or Juba or I."
...
Junia woke in the middle of the night with her stomach in knots. She tried to remember what she had eaten for supper, roast pork, peas and beans, nothing unusual. As waves of muscle spasms and nausea washed over her, she rolled out of bed and crawled toward the pot. The world went blank as her face hit the tile floor.
....
Julius barged into Antonia's atrium, calling for Gaius.
"We need to get to Macro's now," he said. "Junia was found dead this morning. We have to get Epona."
Gaius collected his thoughts as servants brought a litter around for him. Arriving at the Macro family's townhouse, he confronted Junius and Quintus Macro.
"The divorce wasn't final so the marriage contract still controls. In the event of Lady Junia's death, my brother retains custody of both of his children. So I will be taking my niece."
"Not while there's a pending inquest," Quintus snapped.
Gaius got in his face.
"Do we honestly not know what happened here, or why? An inquest can whitewash this, but we know. And it has nothing to do with Epona."
Junius turned to a servant.
"Fetch the child," he said.
"Keep the damn dowry, as we discussed," Gaius said to him. "I will care for your grandchildren, like I promised."
Junius swallowed and nodded, fighting tears and the urge to pop Gaius Antonius. The nursemaid brought Epona. She saw Gaius and squealed.
"Go see Father," she said.
Gaius took her into the litter as servants loaded her belongings. He saw Junius and his wife Apica standing in their doorway and called them over, turning Epona so they could see her and offer a kiss goodbye.
"She will be taken care of," he said. "We will remind her of Junia."
Apica broke down entirely and Quintus Macro led her away. Junius stepped aside so the litters could proceed.
"Grandmother sad," Epona said.
"I know, Baby," Gaius said and held her close, smudging away his own tears.
....
Sejanus came to his atrium and greeted Juba, who wore a light-duty garrison uniform of a white tunic, tooled leather overtunic and a short riding cloak. His jackal's head dagger was on a studded service belt. A turban with a prince's gold circlet and a bedouin's neck scarf, along with a gold arm band with a lion's head and the grapes of Bacchus, completed the outfit. Sejanus understood the message he was putting across and led him into a private sitting room, indicating a chair. Juba helped himself to a cup of wine and sat down, taking a tablet and stylus out of his satchel.
"First, some updated reports," Sejanus said. "III and IV both lost their Aquilae. XVI is an amalgam of what was left of Antony's legions after Actium and has never had an Aquila or functioned properly. I intend to scrap all three if you and Bolt can't bring them in line. And, like the August One, I do believe Bolt carries Antony's spirit and could be a powerful force if he ever gets his head out of his ass."
"He's afraid of Grandfather's hubris," Juba said. "As are all of us. Bolt is moody, up and down, but he knows it. He can be overboard and annoying. He's becoming more aware of that and how to back it off. But he and Victoria are two of the hardest workers I've ever seen. And, I believe she also carries Grandfather in her. They are central to my plans, and I could use Lucius."
"He's for Gaul," Sejanus said.
"I would ask you to reconsider," Juba said. "The Nubians, like the Parthians, are cavalry and archers. If I am overall commander, I need a solid cavalry leader and one good infantry line commander. I intend to do more of what General Marcus has shown me, unorthodox approaches, and I need men willing to go along with it."
"I'll give you Lucius," Sejanus said.
"This will need to be staged," Juba said. "Egypt is nowhere near as ready as Syria. We may lose more towns and have to retake them."
"I understand, and I will work with the August One as best anyone can."
The audience over, Sejanus saw Juba out and returned to his study. He set the Egypt reports aside and turned to his pet project. The Praetorian Guard sprang from units organized by various generals to guard their praetoria or headquarters. The best examples of this were the guard units established by Julius Caesar and, later, Antony and Octavian. On becoming Emperor, Augustus amalgamated and enhanced the existing guard units with the official designation of the Praetorian Guard. Based in castra throughout Italy, only some units could be mobilized quickly. Sejanus had authorized work on a central, large castrum similar to those designed by Herod in Jerusalem and Antony in Antioch and Alexandria. The Castra Praetoria was the next step in his own plan, to become Emperor of Rome.
....
Gaius dropped his pen into the holder and wiped the ink from his fingers. The Antonys also held assets in Italy, Spain, and Gaul. Most of these belonged to Julius and Antonia, but the Antioch branch held stakes in some of them. The last time he and Julius had reconciled accounts was at Lucius' wedding in Rome seven years ago. Gaius leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, but became aware of someone. He looked up at Cornelius, standing in the doorway.
"Centurion, come in."
"Am I intruding, Sir? It's a personal matter."
"Not at all," Gaius said. "Fill a cup and have a seat. I trust you found your family."
"I found them and then they found me," Cornelius said. "My two eldest sisters are dead, so it's just Tertia and her two boys. But apparently my cousin has passed and his lawyers have been looking for heirs. Someone came by yesterday with a summons of some kind. They want to revert the property to the August One if no heirs are found."
"It's that significant of an estate?" Gaius asked.
Cornelius pulled some documents out of a satchel and passed them over to Gaius. He recognized an asset list and began ticking off the holdings.
"I think this will more than set you up for life," he said.
"There's one problem," Cornelius said. "I have no idea what I'm doing. I have no lawyers or contacts here. My brother-in-law is dying and my sister can't read or write. I need a good person here, and to get her and her boys back to Syria once he's gone."
"Centurion, you could retire on this," Gaius said.
"I'm not a desk man, Sir. There's a reason I joined the army. My intent is to find a person here, and go back to Syria. Then, when my brother-in-law passes, bring Tertia and the boys over, let them grow up and enlist there or find a trade, as they wish. But I need someone who knows what they're doing, and someone to watch my ass here. Old Verus can talk me through some of it, but we can't work this end."
Gaius called Julius and Claudius and explained the problem. They sat down with Cornelius and began outlining a plan.
....
Bolt pulled a white officer's tunic over his head and chose a simple leather overtunic and short cloak. He could wear a service belt, but no weapons. He found a basic balteus and buckled it in place. He also could not wear decorations, which was fine by him. He was beginning to doubt he deserved any of them, anyway. He picked up a tablet with notes he had made and sat at the dining table, waiting for his escort to the large assembly room of the castrum, where the trials would be held. Marcus had explained the process to him, as had Lucius and Tertullus, but he was still confused, never having seen a court martial before. Someone knocked on the door and a younger Centurion whom he recognized opened it. One of Marcus' Lictors stood with him.
"Tribune, come with me," Young Aulus Rufio said.
Bolt followed him, aware that the men around him, led by the Lictor, were a quaternion that functioned as an execution squad. Were he found guilty, he would be taken to a cell, and tomorrow morning, be led to the parade ground to be stripped of his decorations and uniform, beaten to the point of death, and then executed one or more of several ways.
Rufio led him to the assembly room and pointed to a stool placed before a tablinium at the front of the room. Since his were the most serious charges, his case would be heard first. Another squad escorted Lucius in and pointed him to a seat on a bench behind Bolt.
The room began filling up. Bolt was not allowed a lawyer, advisor or advocate of any kind. An older Tribune from X Fretensis had been picked to prosecute the case. He sat on the other side of the tablinum, studying his notes. Behind Bolt, the room filled with spectators. Aeneas Burrus and his son, Eli, Tertullus Festus, Julius and Aulus Verus, with Young Aulus, Gnaeus Florus, Rufio's father and uncle, Flavius Messala, and several others sat in the audience. Bolt could not bring himself to look back at them. Gabinius, Curio, and Polcher were in the audience, as was a young prospect, Junius Poplicola. Marcus came into the room as everyone stood to attention.
"Be seated," he said. "Tribune, you will come forward."
Bolt stood before the table. He was looking gaunt again and appeared to be in pain. Marcus read the usual mixture of overwrought emotions, terror, confusion, and despair in his eyes. For all his talent and ability, he was only eighten and a very young eighteen at that.
"I've been authorized to drop the most serious charges, including crimes against the August One's majesty, sacrilege, dereliction of duty, cowardice, and conduct unbecoming. We will proceed on disobedience of a direct order and practicing a foreign superstition. Tribune, these are not death eligible charges for a first offense, but will appear on your record and I can authorize fines, reductions in pay, a caning, confinement, and dishonorable discharge. You have the option to plead."
Bolt took a breath.
"I am guilty of both of those, Excellency," he said, hearing gasps behind him. "I was ordered to attend the Ovation by the August One and I did not do so. Whatever my reasons, it was an order. Also, I do in fact practice several foreign religions in addition to the one I was raised in. I have accompanied my uncle to Jewish meetings on special occasions and I do possess and read copies of their sacred writings. My wife worships the Black Stone of Emessa and Elegabalus. As a member of her royal family, so do I, when required to do so. I also offer to Osiris and Anubis as did Great-Grandfather, Epona of Gaul, and a Numidian war deity, Gerzil, favored by my commander, Prince Juba."
Marcus' eyes flew open. The prosecutor fumbled with his notes.
"Are you sure you wish to plead to these," Marcus asked.
"I am, Sir," Bolt said.
"Given the serious and blatant nature of these charges, I am still recommending caning, indefinite close confinement, and complete dishonorable discharge along with a public stripping of all medals and honors," the prosecutor said.
"What do you say for yourself, Tribune?" Marcus asked.
"I wish to apologize to the August One for my conduct and request the opportunity to mend my ways in future. I will continue to revere our gods and respect those of my family and comrades. I am prepared to accept discipline," Bolt said to more gasps.
Marcus looked him over. He was a lamb to slaughter, trying his best to be a lion, to be Mark Antony.
"You are no coward," Marcus said. "You already have a service record with several entries. You have ability and you are a hard worker. In your youth and immaturity, you made a mistake, and Prince Juba and I let you do it. It is a first offense. I will reprimand you, and fine you a month's pay. As to the second charge, many of us do come in contact with a variety of cultures. I commend your broad-minded approach and the respect and dignity you always accord others. I will dismiss that charge with a warning. But you aren't out of the woods. I am also in possession of orders for you that will make Armenia look like child's play. You are hereby promoted to full Tribune and transferred to duty with XVI Aegyptus based in Alexandria, and posted to the staff of Prince Juba. You survived the Parthians. Now let's see what you do with the Nubians. Your case is concluded. You are released from arrest. Change places with Prefect Antonius."
Lucius came forward and heard his charges.
"I likewise am guilty," he said.
Marcus leaned forward and let out a slow breath.
"Before we proceed with punishment, something else has come up. I deliberately did not tell either of you the worst news. Junia died in her sleep the night after Lucillus was removed from her."
Lucius shuddered as muttering broke out among the audience. He stepped aside to collect himself and paled. He looked as though he could faint.
"Uncle!" Bolt cried out and stood to go to his side.
"As you were, Tribune," Lucius and Marcus said as one. Bolt sat down and Lucius returned to attention. "We can continue."
Tears spurted to Bolt's eyes as he remembered his pretty and timid young Aunt, brought from Rome when he and Victoria were twelve. She was so lost, so frightened of everyone and everything, and he and Victoria rallied around her as they had Lucius. He was aware she had thrown him to the wolves in her letter, but wondered if she was just scared. Now she was dead and he was curious if the shock of losing her son had killed her or if she was murdered. Flavius cuffed his shoulder and he realized Marcus was speaking to him.
"Prefect Antonius has called you as a character witness," Marcus said.
Trembling, Bolt stood, opened the tablet with his notes and lost hold of it, picked it up, and dropped it again.
"Take a moment," Marcus said.
Bolt put the tablet aside on the stool, collected his thoughts, and faced his uncles. He twisted his wedding band and officer's ring as he spoke.
"When I was five, my cousins and I met my Uncle Lucius for the first time. He was back from his posting in Hispania. From that time on, he and I, with Victoria and Fortuna, became inseparable. People wonder how I, so young, can accomplish what I have. The short answer is Uncle Lucius. True, he taught me to ride and fish, and hunt, shoot, sling stones, and work with swords. But he also taught me duty, discipline and hard work. And it was from knowing his background that I developed a profound respect for his mother's people.
"When I got back from Parthia, I started having dreams and I would see things in my mind, like it was happening again. I would just get angry or frightened for no reason. My uncle suggested that I talk with older veterans and he also gave me a codex of the Psalms. Reading the words of David of Israel, a King who was also a soldier and poet, are a comfort. I've memorized some poems and I can recite these when the feelings become too much.
"What people don't know about my uncle, is that he gives more than anyone I know to charity. After Armenia, he joined the other officers of this garrison in contributing for relief for the families of the fallen. He also contributed personal funds for earthquake relief. In Antioch, three synagogues, a temple to Divine Augustus, four shelters, two food distribution centers, a music room and assembly room, all come from him and Aunt Junia, too. May her memory be a blessing.
"While I was recovering after Armenia, I wanted to test a theory. I asked to see the old discipline records and I tracked two hundred cases handled by Prefectus Antonius. In less than fifty did he uphold or order canings. That means, men coming before him had a three out of four chance of not being caned, but receiving other punishment. The idea that he randomly orders canings on the drop of a pin is a lie. I hope it stops being repeated as fact."
"Thank you," Marcus and Lucius said.
Instead of returning to his seat, Bolt stood beside his uncle.
"Hearing of Junia's death this morning, I was pissed enough to come in here and bust your ass," Marcus said. "I believe this whole sorry chain of events was preventable. But I don't believe that this is the forum to address a family matter. I am imposing a fine of six months' pay and closing this matter with a reprimand. You were to be sent to Gaul, but are also being posted to Egypt in command of the cavalry taking on Nubia. We are dismissed. Prefect Lucius, Tribune Antonius, and Tribune Gabinius, in my office."
Gabinus followed Bolt out of the assembly room to Marcus' office and the three men lined up in front of his desk. Marcus came in and laid several documents out for them to see.
"I would ask you to explain these, Gabinius, but I know what the explanation is. Pure jealousy of my nephew. Between you and Junia, you damn nearly cost Marcus his life and both my brother and nephew their careers. I could ask your resignation, but per orders, you are to remain here. And, I'll tell you this. If you even try to resign, I'll make damn sure you aren't picked up anywhere else. So, now that both Lucius and Marcus are being sent elsewhere, you're stuck with me and Gaius. And, I hope you're ready. Vengeance is a dish best cooked and served by an Antony, which you aren't. Dismissed!"
Bolt and Lucius headed to the family quarters to pack. Alone there, Lucius faced his nephew.
"Thank you," he said.
"I meant what I said about you, and Aunt Junia," Bolt said.
Lucius rubbed his eyes, drew a ragged breath, and burst into tears. Bolt sat with him at the dining table. Lucius put his head in his arms and sobbed. Victoria and Fortuna came in and sat down across from him. Fortuna reached over to him and took his hand.