Fire and Sword. Harry Sidebottom
realities. No one regrets the passing of the free Republic more keenly than me. The busts of Cato, Brutus and Cassius have pride of place in my house. But the free Republic is nothing more than a pleasant memory. If we could not see that for ourselves, long ago the historian Tacitus taught us that the rule of an Emperor and the continuance of our empire are inextricably linked.’
Still locked in an embrace, Gallicanus and Maecenas glowered at the speaker.
‘Only a handful of men, beguiled by the high-sounding words of philosophy, want the return of the long dead Republic. The majority of all orders desire the status quo. The provincials can appeal to the Emperor against unjust decisions of their governors. The plebs urbana look to the Emperor to give them the sustenance of life, and the spectacles that make it worth living. The soldiers receive their pay from the Emperor, and give him their oath. What of the Praetorians? Their sole reason for existence is to guard the Emperor. And what of us, Conscript Fathers? With no Emperor to restrain them, the ambitions of certain Senators would again tear the Republic apart. A welter of civil strife would consume our armies. The barbarians would pour over the frontiers, sack our cities, drown our dominion in blood.’
‘Not if we return to the ways of our ancestors,’ Gallicanus shouted.
Pius smiled, as if patiently correcting a schoolboy. ‘The mos maiorum was no defence against Caesar or Augustus. We do not live in Plato’s Republic. Let us face facts as statesmen. We must have an Emperor to lead our defence. The fate of the Gordiani shows that the man elected must command legions. As the armies in the North are with Maximinus, let us send the purple to a governor of one of the great provinces in the East, begging him to march with all haste to save Rome.’
Gallicanus bellowed defiance. ‘Cowardice! The gods may never grant us another opportunity for libertas!’
Amidst an outcry of disapproval – Sit down! Leave the floor! – Maecenas pulled his friend back to his seat.
‘Conscript Fathers.’ Licinius struggled to be heard over the clamour. ‘Senators of Rome!’
Eventually the house heeded the Consul.
‘Conscript Fathers, the distinguished Consular Fulvius Pius has given us good advice. In all but one respect. The very practicalities he urges mitigate against the election of an eastern governor. Their allegiance is unknown. Indeed the governor of Cappadocia, Catius Clemens, was one of the men who put Maximinus on the throne.’
Pupienus was not alone in looking at Clemens’ younger brother. Catius Celer sat modestly a few rows back, among the ex-Praetors and other Senators who had not yet been Consul. His face betrayed nothing. He had been quick to acknowledge the Gordiani. Many great houses had the foresight to survive times of troubles by having relatives on both sides.
‘That aside, there are factors of distance and time. With favourable winds, a despatch might reach Syria in days, but by land or sea an army could not return for months. Maximinus will be upon us long before. We must acclaim one of our own. The Senate already has elected the Board of Twenty to defend the Res Publica. The choice should be made from among their number.’
A low murmur of speculation filled the temple.
Licinius continued. ‘A decision of this importance is not to be taken on a whim. I propose to adjourn the house, to allow time for careful consideration, to seek to discern the will of the gods, and to allow us to mourn the Gordiani with due piety. The Senate will reconvene on a propitious day, when the auguries are good. Conscript Fathers, we detain you no longer.’
The doors of the temple were opened. Light filled the cella, banishing the dark to rafters, corners, and seldom-frequented spaces behind the statuary.
Pupienus wholeheartedly believed in the traditions of the Senate, but he needed to be alone. He told his sons to accompany the presiding Consul home as his representatives, and requested his close friends to join him later for dinner.
It took time for the near four hundred Senators in attendance to make their way out into the sunshine. Some lingered, talking in little groups, covertly eyeing the members of high standing and influence. Intrigue and ambition, two things at the heart of their order, had, at least for the moment, driven out fear. Many looked at Pupienus as he sat unmoving and alone.
Pupienus regarded Marsyas: naked, racked, ribs lifted high, skin stretched, taut and vulnerable. No escape from the knife. Marsyas had challenged Apollo. It had been his downfall, brought him to his hideous end. Marsyas was not the only one destroyed by ambition. Some philosophers castigated ambitio as a vice, others held it a virtue. Perhaps it was composed of both qualities. Pupienus was ambitious. He had risen high. Yet was the ultimate ambition – the throne itself – too dangerous for a man whose life was predicated on a lie? Pupienus knew that if the secret that he had guarded all his life were revealed his many achievements would be as nothing, and he would be ruined and broken.
The temple was almost empty, just a few attendants clearing away the paraphernalia of the meeting. Pupienus’ secretary, Fortunatianus, was waiting on the threshold. Pupienus beckoned him.
Fortunatianus knew his master. Without words, he handed Pupienus the writing block and stylus.
Pupienus opened the hinged wooden blocks, regarded the smooth wax. His mind worked best with something on which to focus, some visual mnemonic. There were only nine of the Board of Twenty in Rome. On receipt of the news would ambition drive others to desert their posts and rush to the city? What of Menophilus at Aquileia, or Rufinianus in the Apennines? Best leave them aside, deal with such circumstances if they arose. For now there were only nine men eligible for election in Rome, only nine men in this strange situation thought capable of empire. He ordered them, and wrote a list, annotated only in his thoughts.
Capax imperii
Allies
Pupienus – Prefect of the City, experienced and resourceful, accustomed to command, yet a novus homo, standing on the edge of a precipice
Tineius Sacerdos – a respectable nobleman, father of the wife of Pupienus’ elder son, loyal, but lacking dynamism
Praetextatus – another nobilis, ill-favoured father of the ill-favoured new bride of Pupienus’ younger son, a more recent friend of unproven fidelity, apparently without competence
Opponents
Gallicanus – a violent, hirsute, yapping Cynic
Maecenas – his intimate, somewhat better groomed, yet still rendered intransigent by philosophic pretentions to virtue
Others
Licinius – a Greek novus homo, once an imperial secretary, intelligent and enterprising
Fulvius Pius – another nobilis, formerly of little account, now growing in stature
Valerian – confidant of the dead Gordiani, not altogether without merit, a follower not a leader
Balbinus – repellent mixture of complacency and cupidity, like the majority of the patricians
Three, including himself, who could be expected to favour the candidature of Pupienus. It could be assumed that Gallicanus and Maecenas, beguiled by dreams of a dead Republic, would oppose any aspirant to sole power. Pupienus needed to win over two of the remaining four. Yet it was not just the men themselves. Everything depended on the votes they could bring. The issue would be decided by decree of the whole Senate.
Which two must he attempt to bring over?
Much would tell against Licinius among traditional Senators: his Hellenic origins – Greeks were naturally untrustworthy – his early employment – a secretary at another’s beck and call – even his intelligence – Greeks were far too clever for their own good, and always, always talking.
Fulvius Pius had a long career behind him, and was distantly related to the Emperor Septimius