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Authors: Douglas Jackson
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Caesar.’
Nero waved a hand theatrically towards the balcony. ‘Look out and tell me what you see?’
Valerius hesitated. There were so many answers. ‘I see Rome and its people.’
The Emperor shook his head, flinging the ringlets left and right. ‘No,’ he snapped. ‘You see a nest of traitors. Rome’s laws are flouted. Rome’s gods are mocked. A disease is already within our midst. It is spreading with every hour. You will discover the source of the disease so that we may eradicate it. You have heard of a man called Christus?’
Valerius shook his head at the unfamiliar name. ‘No, Caesar.’
‘A Judaean troublemaker, from the province of Galilee and put to death almost thirty years ago, but he makes trouble still. Before he died he promised the Jews eternal life. A small number accepted the lie. A carpenter came close to setting the province afire. Those who survived continue to plot in his name. They travel the Empire holding secret meetings and preaching that he is a god. It is said they drink the blood of children, and if that is true I will not leave one of them alive. But Seneca taught me to be just and I will not believe it without proof. You will supply that proof. We have evidence that they are already in the city. You will find the followers of Christus and pass their names to my servant Torquatus. You are our Hero of Rome. Now I name you Rome’s defender against this evil and appoint you honorary tribune of the guard. If you succeed, you will be for ever in our favour. Here.’ He reached inside the folds of the dress and retrieved a ring on a gold chain, similar to the one the courier had shown Valerius, who walked up the stairs and took it, brushing his lips against the back of Nero’s hand. ‘The imperial seal. Use it well, and when you are done return it to us and receive your reward. Torquatus!’ A tall, handsome man appeared from the far side of the screen, his unlined face set in a mocking smile. Valerius wondered how long he had been listening. ‘Torquatus will furnish you with the details.’
The two men bowed and backed away, but the Emperor wasn’t finished.
‘And Verrens?’ Valerius looked back at the greatest actor in the world on his lonely stage. ‘Fail us at your peril.’
‘You are very fortunate,’ Torquatus said as they left the room.
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s not every man who receives a personal performance from the Emperor. You played your part quite well.’
Valerius bit back his anger. ‘I would rather not have had a part.’
‘You are a man who finds it difficult to hide his emotions. You wanted to kill him, and he knew it. But it only made him desire you more.’
‘If I had wanted to kill him he would be dead.’ The sentence was out before his brain had the chance to consider how potentially lethal the words were.
Torquatus stared at him. Coming from another man that declaration would have warranted imprisonment and execution, but perhaps not this man; not for the moment. He pointed back towards the balcony. ‘You have never been closer to death than you were in that room. Four of the finest archers in the Empire stood behind those windows with their arrows aimed at your back. He would have required only to raise a single finger.’
A chill settled on the centre of Valerius’s spine. ‘Why me? Surely there are others better qualified to carry out this task.’
Torquatus stopped at the junction of two corridors. ‘Because you are available. Because you have proved yourself brave and resourceful.’ Somehow the words ‘brave’ and ‘resourceful’ emerged as deliberate insults. ‘The Emperor commissioned a private report from Julius Classicanus, our new procurator, on the causes and conduct of the British war. Governor Paulinus naturally attempted to blame everyone but himself, but he was forced to admit that if he had acted upon the information you provided about the Iceni the conflict might have been avoided.’ He smiled coldly.
Nero waved a hand theatrically towards the balcony. ‘Look out and tell me what you see?’
Valerius hesitated. There were so many answers. ‘I see Rome and its people.’
The Emperor shook his head, flinging the ringlets left and right. ‘No,’ he snapped. ‘You see a nest of traitors. Rome’s laws are flouted. Rome’s gods are mocked. A disease is already within our midst. It is spreading with every hour. You will discover the source of the disease so that we may eradicate it. You have heard of a man called Christus?’
Valerius shook his head at the unfamiliar name. ‘No, Caesar.’
‘A Judaean troublemaker, from the province of Galilee and put to death almost thirty years ago, but he makes trouble still. Before he died he promised the Jews eternal life. A small number accepted the lie. A carpenter came close to setting the province afire. Those who survived continue to plot in his name. They travel the Empire holding secret meetings and preaching that he is a god. It is said they drink the blood of children, and if that is true I will not leave one of them alive. But Seneca taught me to be just and I will not believe it without proof. You will supply that proof. We have evidence that they are already in the city. You will find the followers of Christus and pass their names to my servant Torquatus. You are our Hero of Rome. Now I name you Rome’s defender against this evil and appoint you honorary tribune of the guard. If you succeed, you will be for ever in our favour. Here.’ He reached inside the folds of the dress and retrieved a ring on a gold chain, similar to the one the courier had shown Valerius, who walked up the stairs and took it, brushing his lips against the back of Nero’s hand. ‘The imperial seal. Use it well, and when you are done return it to us and receive your reward. Torquatus!’ A tall, handsome man appeared from the far side of the screen, his unlined face set in a mocking smile. Valerius wondered how long he had been listening. ‘Torquatus will furnish you with the details.’
The two men bowed and backed away, but the Emperor wasn’t finished.
‘And Verrens?’ Valerius looked back at the greatest actor in the world on his lonely stage. ‘Fail us at your peril.’
‘You are very fortunate,’ Torquatus said as they left the room.
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s not every man who receives a personal performance from the Emperor. You played your part quite well.’
Valerius bit back his anger. ‘I would rather not have had a part.’
‘You are a man who finds it difficult to hide his emotions. You wanted to kill him, and he knew it. But it only made him desire you more.’
‘If I had wanted to kill him he would be dead.’ The sentence was out before his brain had the chance to consider how potentially lethal the words were.
Torquatus stared at him. Coming from another man that declaration would have warranted imprisonment and execution, but perhaps not this man; not for the moment. He pointed back towards the balcony. ‘You have never been closer to death than you were in that room. Four of the finest archers in the Empire stood behind those windows with their arrows aimed at your back. He would have required only to raise a single finger.’
A chill settled on the centre of Valerius’s spine. ‘Why me? Surely there are others better qualified to carry out this task.’
Torquatus stopped at the junction of two corridors. ‘Because you are available. Because you have proved yourself brave and resourceful.’ Somehow the words ‘brave’ and ‘resourceful’ emerged as deliberate insults. ‘The Emperor commissioned a private report from Julius Classicanus, our new procurator, on the causes and conduct of the British war. Governor Paulinus naturally attempted to blame everyone but himself, but he was forced to admit that if he had acted upon the information you provided about the Iceni the conflict might have been avoided.’ He smiled coldly.
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