Caput XXXV
***CDV***
"This is treason," muttered the young Tribunus Angusticlavius. "The legions swear to him, and not the senate or Rome."
"Have you been swearing to them? We've sworn to a Caesar of some sort my entire career." The Primus Pilus of the Eighteenth looked to one of the young officers, an idealist, it seemed. It was refreshing in some way, he supposed. One needed idealists so that the realists were not just pessimists by another name.
"Our duty is to the Senate and the People of Rome. We must dispatch this mongrel Greek before any more damage can be done."
"When I first met him, I was shitting my pants in Illyria and him, a pilus prior of the Thirteenth. By the end of the campaign, I had made optio and he stood as pilus primus. Now, I am primus pilus of the 18th legion and look what he fucking is. Eighteen years I have listened to his voice and believed I would have victories and live to see tomorrow. Eighteen years I have said I would follow that man to the Gates of Pluto. I doubt the Rubicon will be so hard to pass." The centurion, Licinus Calpurnius, looked at Gnaeus Cornelius Cinna, grandson of Pompeius Magnus. "Tribune, I do not mean to threaten you nor scare you, I merely offer you the advice of many years in service of the legion. If any other man, immature in judgement and violent in loyalty, heard you utter such words, you would already be dead. For I doubt even Julius Caesar held loyalty the way this man does."
"You would follow him against Rome itself?"
"If he ordered me thus. If I may tribunus, I believe if you were to converse with him, I think you would find more of Rome in him than most. We claim Rome is a land of merit and manly virtue. He is our proof."
***CDVI***
A level of solemnity not seen since the fall of Julius Caesar hung over the assembled senators of Rome. Their princeps, Caesar's glorious great-nephew, sat brooding. He studied the assembled faces as he sat before them on a dais. At his side stood the messenger dispatched by Publius Varus from Britannia. The young decurion, a son-in-law of Agrippa and therefore brother-in-law of Varus appeared travel weary. What little murmuring that filled the chamber ceased as Imperator Augustus Caesar now stood to address them.
"My dear colleagues, Senators and the exalted of Rome, I bring you grave tidings." He paused dramatically. "From far to our north, in the wilds of Britannia, foul news reaches us. My own son-in-law, husband of my dearest daughter, father of my grandchildren, and a man I have called friend – now stands named imperator by his legions. Not since the dark days of Antonius, have we faced such a threat as this. Our imperium is divided. This glorious body has nobly granted imperium to I, your humble servant, while in the north the very men which protect our dominion have granted imperium of the sword upon another. A divided Rome cannot stand strong. Yet, fellow senators, one of our own now stands at the head of army dividing us as we speak." A chorus of cheers and shouts of anger filled the chamber. He allowed them to speak over each other, even as the voice of Octavian Varus, rose above them due to the highness of its pitch.
"If such a man exists, Augustus, why would he receive such a command?"
"Because, dear senator, you were my first choice, but your record shows he would have received command eventually anyway." Despite the severity of their situation, several of the assembly laughed. Again Octavian spoke, now presenting himself as a great strategist.
"We should send another army north to put an end to this." Augustus' response was harsher than any of his words thus far.
"Yes, and with what commander? Drusus, who he trained to be a man and a warrior? Jason, who is his cousin and now governor of Syria due to his influences? And even if the order goes out despite the commander's hesitation, does the Twenty-first legion follow it? Does the Thirteenth? For they, with the Second and the Tenth – razed Greece with him. Pluto's balls, do our own fucking Praetorians allow it to happen or do they end the threat to their man? As he has been their commander for how many years? Without trying, the bastard has outplayed us all, you sniveling cunt." The severity of the situation now fully struck the Senate. Their leader, regardless of their personal opinions on the reign of Caesar, had never lost control of his emotions in such a public way.
"What of Agrippa?"
"I have summoned him, forcing him to abandon his army in Pannonia."
"Your opinion?" Augustus felt their beady eyes studying him. The breach of his normally stoic presentation already provided them a breach they would desire to exploit.
"That he sees him as a brother, the way I once did." The choice of words was not lost on them.
***CDVII***
Despite its closer location, word traveled more slowly to the campaigning legions of the Rhine. There at temporary camp fifty miles past the great and into the German forests, Nero Claudius Drusus exited his command tent to the great cheers of his men. These were mostly the men of Legio XXI Rapax and they loved him, for he was the brother of Tiberius and, in their eyes, a notional son of their illustrious leader at the sack of Athens. He noted their legionary banners, not their aquila, being thrust into the air. A rider with a sheepish grin upon his face was forced through the raucous crowd toward him. Drusus recognized the man as a praetorian cavalryman, one of the Germans recruited by Perseus outside the Batavian bodyguard of Augustus. His helmet and apparel marked him as a decurion.
"Well, get on with it," Drusus ordered. The man thumped his chest plate and thrust out his hand in salute.
"Legatus Augusti pro praetore, I bring word from the temporary praetorian prefect of my command." Drusus nodded, knowing that Praefectus Temporalis Quintus Ostorius Scapula commanded in Percy's absence in Rome. Drusus did not know the man well enough to know if his appointment was Percy's doing or his stepfather's.
"Carry on."
"Sir, Praefectus Praetoria Publius Ventidius Bassus Perseanus has been raised as Imperator by his legions in the north." Again raucous cheers filled the German evening. Drusus surveyed the proceedings and turned to the decurion.
"Come, we will speak in my tent."
***CDVIII***
"I would not count upon the legions on the Rhine. The Thirteenth is liable to refuse orders against him. The eastern legions, at least those in Asia, Syria, and Judaea, would be his. Four legions in Britannia, plus the legions of Gaul and Hispania. At least nineteen legions that would answer his call, if this noble body were to ask for my opinion." Agrippa paused, looking about the small group of senators studying him. "That is not including the auxiliaries or the Praetorians, all of whom have followed him for years."
"You speak as if the situation is hopeless, Marcus Agrippa." He turned to a veteran of the Cantabrian Wars and those against Parthia.
"Titus, not once have I declared the situation hopeless. Nor has any action been taken, as has been stated. But at the end of the day, I would stake my life that more of the legions would answer his call than ours."
"Why?" asked a man who's only military service was the barest of minimums.
"My noble colleague, many of us in this body have ordered men to their deaths. How many of us have ever been charged with executing such an order? If you question why the men, the rank and file, would follow such a man instead of our orders, cease. The question is not why they follow him more loyally than us, but what makes him different than us? That answer is far simpler and answers more. He has been one of them. In him they see a commander that understands what his orders mean, because he carried them out once."
"How true is this threat?" Agrippa looked fist to Augustus, who merely nodded.
"He is perhaps the most gifted commander Rome has seen since Julius Caesar." Augustus winced at that. "He landed over sixty thousand soldiers in Britannia. His friends and acolytes command large formations in the East and Germania. Many of the legions in Gaul and Hispania have fought beside him. And let us not forget, how many legions of Antonius have been cached and retired? How many of those veterans would consider our man in the north a preferable commander? He was Antonius' man for how long? What then, my fellow senators, do we consider the best choice to avoid this conflict?" Not that all of them would want to avoid it, he knew. A civil war to remove Augustus from power would make many of them extremely happy.
"Election to consul, it would show the men that his abilities are recognized. It could be enough to dissuade them from following his chaos." Agrippa nearly snorted in laughter. Did none of these fools listen to the reports? His own men started the chant, not him. No actual reports claimed Percy wanted anything to do with a civil war, which made matters worse in Agrippa's eyes. Had ambition driven this, Percy would follow through to protect his men. If his men started this, Percy would protect them all the more violently.
"Such an election may have the power to adjust the mindset of those on the other side. Or it may empower them."
"Balance his election with that of Drusus. Force the younger man to choose between duty and personal loyalty."
"Absolutely not," this from Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus, a current consul. The campaign currently under Drusus' command had been originally intended for him. Agrippa did not wish to antagonize the man. He would be going to Africa at the end of his consulship.
"Lucius Calpurnius Piso," stated Augustus from the corner. "He is my wife's half-brother and loyal. He is also a friend of Perseus. Between duty and the knowledge that his friend is the other consul, he may be convinced to avoid this conflict."
***CDIX***
"You fucking fool," muttered Jason. He stared at a dispatch from Drusus in Germania. Such word from Rome would never arrive. The power brokers there cannot admit to such things. He continued to look at the dispatch. The missive informed him that the legions of Britannia cried out their intent for his friend to be imperator. Jason could not blame him, the man's ability to attract loyalty was damnably well developed, and he never had to try. People became loyal because they wanted to be loyal to him, not because he demanded it of them. Yet he demanded of himself to return it, so if the legions were threatened, he would respond. Regardless, due to that ability four legions in Britannia would follow him to Rome if he asked it of them. Based off of the letter in his hand, it appeared that if Rome turned away Perseus, Drusus and his five legions would turn to him. Drusus asked him the specific question that Rome did not ask a week earlier. "Should an interior threat come before Rome, can we rely upon your command?"
The governorship of Syria was no small post. The Senate had bestowed upon him Scythianicus for his conquests of the Scythians and his political acumen which placed the Queen of the Amazons in control of their territories. The Armenians attempted to support the cannibals and with the Parthians' permission, the Parthians' readiness for war being nonexistent. Jason had in turn subjugated them as well. The east expanded even as the northern boundaries of Rome's imperium stretched ever further. That post led to the questions of his loyalty. Augustus named him governor, but everyone knew who pulled the strings to make it happen. Augustus' distrust of him due to his father was legendary throughout the social structures of Rome. Augustus feared that a Son of Jupiter, if tempted with power, would attempt to claim it all for himself. His cousin's experiment placed Jason in charge of the East, far from Rome, yet with enough power prove his loyalty. The very loyalty everyone now questioned.
What no one seemed to be asking, however, was if Percy would march upon Rome at all. It seemed all of Rome forgot what Imperator actually meant. And it all could not happen to a worse person, he thought. Percy was a pillar of the virtues highly regarded by Rome, however, Jason doubted that he could even tell himself what his thoughts were. If a hair of his beard threatened to reveal his thoughts, he would cut it off. Percy, due to his mind's inability to view himself as anything but an outsider, planned and executed everything he could in complete secrecy. Jason supposed Percy's natural tendency toward privacy had only increased based off proximity to the nest of vipers that was Rome.
He took a cup of wine from a slave and looked out into the Syrian desert. "What the fuck are you going to do, brother?"
***CDX***
"Fellow Senators, I am afraid the offer of consulship has failed to deter the armies in the north. Yes…" Agrippa paused. "I have stated armies, for it is fully believed the legions of Gaul and Germania will answer to his call should it become necessary."
"Just send some praetorians or bloody fucking assassins and get rid of the fucker that way."
"Yes, that sounds like quite the plan. Assassinate the bastard who has thirteen fucking legions to his name. I understand that for some of you," his eyes cast judgmentally over the grays and the fat, "war is bygone age. But for any of you that paid any bit of attention to what he did in Greece, when he goes to war, he fucking destroys everything!"
"What in Pluto's name does he even fucking want?" one of the fat Senators asked.
Agrippa turned with a wry smile, "If I knew that, speaking to you would be even more a waste of breath."
***CDXI***
It amazed Gnaeus Cornelius Cinna how little human life mattered. In Rome, Lucius Annaeus Seneca debated with Patrius Latro on the nature of man and his place in the world. Gnaeus remembered sitting just feet from the likes of Agustus, Maecenas, Asinius Pollio, and Gaius Plinius Secundo during declamations. There, man's limitation seemed only limited by his power of speech. There, conflict extended only as far rhetoric carried it. Here, in the wilds of Caledonia, Gnaeus initiated battle with a mere wave of his hand. At a spoken order, hundreds of men committed to the death of thousands.
Perseus had given him a combined cohort of infantry and cavalry with a gruff "You've proven yourself, boy." Gnaeus would not discount the fact that such a promotion swiftly followed the conversation with his centurion where he doubted the man leading them and his threat to Rome. Therefore, as much as he wished for the glories of command, he could not thrust from his mind the idea that his "honor" was merely a bribe. He shook his head as a lewder thought entered it, I would have rather been gifted a night with the whore who warms your bed. He looked across his camp. Snow swirled along the ground and shivering in it were the six hundred slaves taken by his men following a battle with the Caledonians.
After the battle along the Sabrina, the army marched west subduing the remaining tribes of the western hills. In the north, first the Ordavices and then the Deceangli fell to Perseus himself. Soon after, he sent his son south with twenty thousand soldiers. A forest of crosses sprouted from Publius Varus' destruction of the Silures and Demetae. In the north, Perseus destroyed the Brigantes and negotiated with the Selgovae to build a client kingdom by helping them subjugate their neighbors, the Novantii and the Damnonii. Together with that coalition, the Greek general razed the villages and homes of the Otadini. North of the Damnonii, the remnants of the Caledonian Confederation assembled. The army had been reassembled and in the foothills of the great northern mountains, sixty-five thousand of them died to the last man. Their wives surrendered to him rather than burying their children.
"And all because of that, I am on this piece of shit mountain with eight hundred Gallic warriors." His legion was further south, building a great legionary city. The Eighteenth was the farthest north, the Ninth below it upon the narrowest portion of the island. Both of those legions were positioned to respond to any uppity behaviors from the Selgovae. The Second and the Tenth built similar camps further south. Auxiliary cohorts such as his built smaller bases throughout the new Roman dominion. Gnaeus did not understand who they were to protect against, for he had seen more death than he ever knew possible. Sixty-five thousand Caledonians in the Highlands, another nearly thirty thousand at the Sabrina, the gods only knew how many in the smaller battle, I think we have killed or enslaved every man in Britannia.
***CDXII***
A fever gripped Rome. Rumors claimed that Consul Perseus approached the banks of the Rubicon. That news from other commanders prompted the question, what glory has he returned to us? The question with Perseus was different, Julia noted. With him they asked, have his legions come with him? She cared little for their debate, for her only care was if the babe currently suckling on her breast would ever meet his father.
She looked down on the boy, already thirteen months old and without a name. Her father insisted he be named after him. She acidly responded that the honor of his name lay with the man responsible for victory over Sextus Pompey and Markus Antonius. The glare in her eyes made it clear she did not attribute said acts to her father. She merely hoped her husband would live long enough to exercise his honor.
She knew not why the legions lifted him to such honors as Imperator. She knew him well enough to know that he would not have requested such a position. Yet here he was. her father apparently feared that he would sweep south with his men and the next day the Senate would hold a session to discuss their answer to the "Greek threat." It shocked her how quickly the "Greek threat" from a decade before seemed forgotten and distrust and suspicion now fell to the one man she trusted most to stand up for Rome. In less than a year her husband seemed to have transitioned from the greatest of Rome to the monster in the dark. Is this how those Greek slaves saw him? She thought, after a friend had spoken of him in whispers normally reserved for discussion of Mors and Pluto. Only now, removed from the glory of Rome's preeminent conqueror, did Julia truly see the effect of her husband upon the populace.
Once, many years before, she feared him. She feared the broad shoulders and bulging muscles. The warrior face and the violence his eyes held only deepened the fear. When he spoke, the earth and stone seemed to tremble. The power he held, both political and physical, seemed to hold her ruin. To cross him would be disastrous, to treat him as Reyna Messalina Varus treated Octavian, deadly. Early in their marriage, she had even feared personal injury, not purposeful she knew, but as they had sex, he seemed determined to fuck away every horror seen on the battlefield. But as fucking became love making, she found the tenderness hidden under layers of armor not of iron and leather, but of distrust and paranoia. He allowed her to tear them away and now Julia feared him too exposed for what was sure to follow.
***CDXIII***
"Daughter, the time has come." Annabeth looked up from a letter sent to her by the magistrate of Corinth.
"Yes, it is time for more wine."
"A civil war is brewing in Rome. The man who defeated you is rising against Augustus."
"Defeated me? As I recall you lost on the Acropolis too."
"I did not lose a country," Athena snapped. Just months before her time as a mortal ended and she again ascended to the ranks of the gods. This was the first time Annabeth had spoken to her since her return to Olympus.
"There was no country to lose, mother. Greece did not exist."
"They are weak! Rise up and lead Greece toward its independence."
"No. I will not bring destruction upon this land again."
"Your gods will…"
"No, one goddess wills. The last I listened to that will, Greece suffered."
"The gods cannot be denied!"
"Is that what you told the Greeks dying on the shores of Troy because Aphrodite wanted to have some fun?"
"You are a traitor."
"Mother, where once 4,000 demigods roamed Greece, now we number barely 300. Greece does not welcome us. We are strangers in our own land. Enemies of our own people. We live in shadows and whatever magic of Hecate this fog cast over mortals is. As a people we are not whole," she raised her arm with its missing portion, "As a person I am not. We have peace here with the additional protections of Hecate and Artemis. I will not risk them, again. To do so would be the greatest treachery." Fury shown on her mother's face.
"Then I pray for the day I have a child brave enough to complete the task you will not."
"Then I pray I am long dead, so that I do not have to bury another sibling."
***CDXIV***
"My dear Senators," Augustus paused, seemingly in deep thought. "To our north, a column under direct command of Publius Ventidius Bassus Perseanus marches south." He, of course, knew more specifics than "a column," but such details did not serve his purpose. "We find ourselves upon the brink. For fifteen years, with this noble body's support, I have kept Rome at peace." Agrippa smiled in the shadows, for Augustus both praised and tore down with a single line.
"You're a tricky fucking bastard," he muttered, not for the first time.
"Alas, our efforts have been for nought. Perseus men continue his control of Britania despite the news of his consulship," news which he knew did not actually reach the north. "It is for this reason I propose a radical solution. It is with great reservation, given the terrible history under our former heridtary rulers, that I prose this body allow my naming of Perseus as heir to all my titles and authorities." Uproar commenced. Agrippa allowed it to rule for five minutes before speaking.
"Hear me out, members of this distinguished body. We have guided Rome since the end of the dark days of the kings. Our noble Princeps is not proposing a return to that darkness, and should I say weakness, when man relied upon another for mastery of his fate. We of Rome need no man to stand upon us." He motioned to Augustus, "This man was never ordained to rule over us, but we have raised him to serve as a father to Rome. Who but a father would sacrifice his own standing in order to protect his children? Perseus has long served Rome, in his men's claims, they see him as continuing that service." More uproar. "Easy dear friends, put your minds to this. What manner of man marches in legion?" A plethora of answers came, mostly negative, until, as planned, the mortal father of Lucius Cornelius Jason spoke.
"A citizen!" Lucius Cornelius Balbus' old voice cut through the crowd.
"Aye!" cried Agrippa. "A citizen and a man of Rome. While he is more brutish than the esteemed men in this chamber, he is a man of Rome. Those men of Rome elevate a man of our status in the way we civilized men of the Seven Hills elevate Augustus. They elevate a man just a few years younger than Caesar as name his as heir, these men of iron and blood gain the honors they believe Perseus deserves. Meanwhile, the man follows his army because he protects them. We Senators need to fear little from his inheritance, for as Augustus and I speed toward our mausoleums, he is swift behind us. If his insistence on fighting battles himself does not propel him ahead of us."
"Gentlemen," Augustus spoke slowly. "I seek not a dynasty, but to maintain peace in our time. To placate the men of his legions is to remove his need to protect them. To remove his need to the Romans he believes at risk, you remove the need for other legions to commit to his defense." Augustus paused; his emotions laid bare. "This man is dear to me; I have no desire to fight against him. But dearer still to me, is my desire to avoid blood upon the hallowed streets of Rome."
***CDXV***
"Are we to have war?" Augustus looked across the running water of the Rubicon. The spring thaws, in the month dedicated to Mars, fed the river. It was the Thirty-first year in the measure of Julius Caesar, the seven hundred and thirty-ninth since the founding of Rome. Its gurgles and rushing seemed to dim as the column of cavalry came to a halt behind the Son of Poseidon. He looked across the water and remembered the moment which he asked Publius Varus to initiate a civil war.
"You summoned me, Augustus."
"Yes, I hear your relationship has soured of late with your father."
"Both of them, sir."
"Well, unfortunately, I care little for Cuntavion. But I have a proposal to remedy the situation with Perseus."
"Sir?"
"Agrippa believes a taste of true conquest, like the invasion of Britannia, would sweeten things between you."
"I know your father is a taskmaster, boy. But he will need someone he trusts to manage conquests while he pushes the army. Serve him well, and I believe the bonds will be reforged."
"Do you truly believe so?"
"Yes," said Agrippa.
"Then I will take it," Publius said, recognizing, but ignoring, the way they played to his desire to please his father.
"If you are going north, perhaps there is another situation you could assist me with. A personal matter, yes, but for the good of Rome." If there was one man in Rome that Publius considered it to be more prudent to curry favor with than his father, it was Augustus.
"How may I be of service, Augustus?" The pale eyed man smiled.
"I want you to ensure your father is raised as Imperator in Britania."
"Augustus, why…"
"Because I need an heir and the cocksuckers in the Senate will never allow a repeat of my uncle's failures in inheritance. Therefore, we will create a crisis where they cannot deny the legitimacy of my declaration. Your father will be my heir."
"What?"
"I need you to ensure the legions declare him Imperator, I will manage the rest."
"Are we to have war?" Percy called again. No, Augustus thought. I should think not. Young Publius spent too much of his time ensuring you were named Imperator and then keeping the missives from Rome from you. So easy to manipulate Senators into believing you want a war when you never know there could be peace. Augustus motioned and Julia was brought forward. He knew the swaddled child in her arms would be visible from across the waters. As he watched the physical reaction of the general facing him and the way the nearly thousand cavalry behind him reacted to his movement, he feared he had miscalculated. I need an heir, not an enemy.
"I name you my heir! Does that avoid civil war?"
"I never wanted a war." I know you did not, since I initiated it.
"Neither does your son!" Julia cried out from beside Augustus. Augustus watched as the Greek guided his horse into the river. The cavalry did not move. The voice that carried across the river was far softer than its previous iteration.
"My son?" Julia guided her horse forward.
"Your son." Julia said more softly as she approached the bank. As Percy looked at the babe, Augustus moved forward.
"I welcome you on your return to Rome, Publius Ventidius Bassus Perseanus, co-princeps and heir to all that is mine."
****END PARS III****
A/N: Part 3 ends in March, 15 BC.