Soldier of Rome: Heir to Rebellion (The Artorian Chronicles) by James Mace

Tiberius said. “You have been my right hand when all others have failed me. Therefore I feel it is only right that we elevate your position further. How would feel about being awarded the Praetorship?”
    “I would be honored, Caesar. However, there isn’t much precedent for one of my birth to hold such a lofty position.”
    “That is true,” Tiberius conceded. “And no doubt there will be grumblings within the senate. But when I make it clear to them that my wish is for the partner of my labors to be elevated to this position, no doubt they will fold.”
    As the two men continued to walk around the amphitheater, Sejanus could not believe his good fortune. In the time of the Republic the Praetor was a man of enormous responsibility; tasked with relieving the judicial burden on the Consuls, as well as given the authority to field an army in dire emergencies when both Consuls were already in the field. After the rise of the Emperors, Augustus had changed the duties to those of an imperial administrator and advisor, rather than a magistrate. His power was still immense, with much focus placed on judicial matters. Twelve Praetors had served under Augustus, with Tiberius increasing the number to fifteen. Sejanus would become the sixteenth and most powerful, even though he would be the only non-senator in its ranks.
     

     
    At length the estate came into view. Farm fields dotted the region around the manner house. At the bottom of the gradual slope Artorius rode up to a grove of trees running perpendicular to the road. He guided his horse over to an apple tree and dismounted. He then plucked a pair of ripe red apples, giving one to the horse before remounting. He finished his own as he rode through the gates of the manor house. A twenty foot wall surrounded it, with all vegetation cut back from the outside of the wall. The only exception was a massive oak with several branches that hung over the wall on the west side. He speculated that some of the branches might support the weight of a man, if he was sure of balance.
    H e dismounted and handed the reins to a servant. He then removed the parcel and letters and walked slowly towards the door, taking in the sights of the estate grounds the whole time. Much had been renovated since Proculus had taken over. The manor had belonged to a wealthy Gaul, and while elaborate, Proculus sought to wipe the Gallic influence away and “Romanize” the estate. Indigenous religious shrines and relics were replaced with statues of the Roman pantheon. On either side of the large double-doors were life-size statues of Mars and Diana. Artorius grinned at the coincidence of Diana Procula having a statue of her namesake outside her front door. As if he was expected, the doors were opened from the inside, a small and balding servant pushing his way through.
    “How may we be of service, noble Decanus?” he asked with a short bow.
    “I bring parcels and letters from Centurion Proculus to the Lady Diana,” Artorius replied.
    “Of course, Sir,” the servant said with a nod of his head. Artorius followed him in into a well-lit entrance hall. An elaborate set of marble stairs rose off to the left; indeed everything inside seemed to be made of marble. Artorius knew that were the estate not confiscated from a Gallic rebel Proculus could never have afforded such luxury. Statues and vases adorned every niche and pedestal. They came to a side entrance with no door that led into an enclosed garden. Inside was a raised dais that was as yet undecorated with either statues or foliage. Instead there was a platter with a pitcher of wine and two brass goblets.
    A large, elaborate trough for small plants ran along the wall to the left. It was here that Artorius first laid eyes on Lady Diana since that day in the Lugdunum market. Her back was to him, but still he gasped. Instead of the more feminine stola she wore a short tunic top that was open partway down the back. Though she looked soft to the touch, her