Rome's Executioner by Robert Fabbri Page B

obvious the horse-fuckers were going nowhere without a fight, he turns up with four cohorts of the Fifth Macedonica aboard two squadrons of the Danuvius fleet, takes overall command and orders me straight back here to sit and wait whilst, again, he grabs all the glory. He even had the temerity to accuse me of failing in my duty to Rome for not stopping the Getae’s raids, as if it were that easy against an enemy that can move thirty or forty miles a day as opposed to our fifteen, if we’re lucky. Pluto’s balls, we need more cavalry in this province.’ Pomponius slumped back in his chair and wiped the beads of sweat from his brow that, despite the cool temperature in the room, had accumulated there.
    Vespasian shifted uneasily in his seat, wondering how he was going to find out whether Rhoteces was with the besieged raiding party and, if he was, how they were going to get through the Roman lines, into the castle, apprehend him and then get him back out without it coming to the attention of Poppaeus.‘Why have the Getae started raiding the province so often?’ he asked. ‘It’s not as if there’s a lot to plunder here and if they carry on it will surely just provoke the Emperor into extending the Empire over the river.’
    Pomponius looked up from the self-pitying reverie into which he had sunk. ‘What? Oh, I know; strategically it’s pure madness on their part. But it seems that their king, Cotiso, who’s the grandson of the king of the same name that we defeated over fifty years ago, has been encouraged to exact revenge for that humiliation to his people.’
    ‘By whom?’
    ‘That disgusting priest that had the ear of Poppaeus; you might have seen him when he led Dinas’ people down to surrender – you were there, weren’t you?’
    ‘Yes, I was,’ Vespasian replied, trying to keep his voice neutral. ‘So he’s been with the Getae ever since the revolt was put down?’
    ‘I don’t know if he went to them immediately but he’s certainly been with them for the last year or so; he’s been seen with them during some of their raids.’
    ‘Was he spotted on this one?’ Vespasian asked innocently.
    Pomponius was about to answer, but then stopped himself and peered at his young tribune with his piggy eyes. ‘Ah, I see,’ he said slowly. ‘Your brother’s with you, isn’t he?’
    Vespasian’s pulse quickened. ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘Yet he doesn’t hold a military commission at the moment, does he?’
    ‘No, he’s a civilian.’
    ‘Has he recently arrived from Rome?’
    Vespasian knew that it was pointless denying it. ‘Yes, sir, at the end of March.’
    Pomponius nodded thoughtfully and raised himself to his feet. Vespasian stood immediately.
    ‘I have other business to attend to now, tribune,’ Pomponius said, indicating that the interview was over, ‘but I would be pleased if you and your brother would dine with me this evening.’
    ‘I think you’ll find this dish to be particularly fine,’ Pomponius enthused as a huge platter of river perch, topped with a thick brown sauce, was placed upon the table. ‘This is my cook’s speciality, his honeyed-wine and plum sauce is second to none and he understands exactly how to poach a fish so that the flesh peels perfectly off the bones. He’s a marvel; I bought him twelve years ago and, like a good wine, he gets even better as the years pass.’ To emphasise the point he took long draught of the excellent wine, belched, and then set his cup down whilst greedily eyeing the beautifully presented dish.
    Vespasian glanced across the table to Sabinus, who was showing no sign of fatigue, and then smiled politely at his host. ‘It does look most appetising, Pomponius,’ he managed to say, half-truthfully.
    It would indeed have looked most appetising if it had been the second or third course; however, it was the eighth. Vespasian had assumed, judging by the girth of his host, that the dinner would be an arduous affair, and not for the faint-hearted, so he