It is 54 years old. Claudius is dead. Nero takes over, but his stepbrother Britan also aspires to the throne. A bloody battle for the title of emperor begins.
It started, as always in such situations, from a few deeper ones. Not that brawls in a neighborhood like Subura were unusual, much less the Romulus and the Wolf Inn, well known for cheap wine, playful harlots and delinquents who sold insider information on chariot racing.
It was one of the largest dives in these slums, occupying the entire ground floor of a corner building in a small square. A long counter ran along the back wall, behind which Tribonius, the bar's owner, had set up a line of heavily made-up bartenders serving drinks, meals from a modest menu, and other services for those hungry for more bodily sensations. A lad stood at each of the two entrances, checking that customers were not bringing in weapons. Other innkeepers did not follow such security measures for fear that they would scare off the takers, but not Tribonius. He had worked in the business for over twenty years and had built up a steady clientele who tolerated the restrictions because she had a soft spot for what it offered.
Game of Thrones
That evening, only a month after the death of Emperor Claudius, rain fell, drumming steadily on the pavement, and the streets of Rome glistened with damp. The people of the capital embraced Claudius' poor end with distrust and anxiety , and this had an impact on the business in "Romulus and Wilk". Many clients shunned public places for fear that they would be torn in the clashes of the factions of Nero's and Britain's, sons of the Emperor, fighting each other against each other. .
Claudius may have been a bit off-handed, but he fed his subjects and kept them entertained. More importantly, his rule was stable, free from mindless atrocities the two previous emperors. But now that the most powerful empire of the known world had two heirs, some tensions, to say the least, were inevitable.
Claudius may have been a bit off-handed, but he fed his subjects and kept them entertained.
Sixteen-year-old Nero he was three years older than his brother. He was not the biological son of Claudius, but the child of Empress Agrippina - daughter of brother Claudius. Marrying my niece required a change in law, but the senators were eager to turned a blind eye to a trifle like incest just to win the emperor's favor. And so Nero formally became the son of Claudius.
The Briton, the emperor's son, did not accept his adopted brother, the more so as he soon began to be favored by his mother, who took over the mind and bodily desires of the emperor. Thus Claudius in the last years of his reign unknowingly provoked competition which now threatened a civil war in Rome. Although the empress hastily announced that her son would be heir to the throne, everyone knew well that the Briton and his supporters were not going to come to terms with it. Ordinary citizens had reason to watch anxiously from the sidelines and wait to see what would come of this confrontation.
Praetorians - Favorites of Emperors
A group of heavy-cloaked Praetorian Guard soldiers entered the square and walked briskly towards the inn, talking and laughing aloud. They were not embarrassed. Praetorians were the favorites of the emperors who rewarded them handsomely in return for their loyalty. The new emperor was no exception. When Nero's accession to the throne was announced, every praetorian in Rome received a small fortune which is why now their pouches were bursting at the seams with silver.
Tribonius greeted them with a broad smile as they entered the premises, pulling the hoods off their heads and taking off their soaked coats they had hung on pegs on the side wall before going over to the bar to order the first round. The freshly minted coins rang against the sticky, furrowed wood of the counter, on which the mugs and pitchers of wine brought from the back room immediately appeared, handed to the impatient soldiers.
The text is an excerpt from the latest book by Simon Scarrow, 'Caesars Day. Eagles of the Empire ", 16th volume of the best-selling Roman series, published by the Książnica publishing house.
They were not the first Praetorians to be hosted by the Tribonius inn that evening. Shortly before that, a smaller group of soldiers had arrived, seated in the corner on benches on either side of the table. Their mood was much less cheerful, though they too were the beneficiaries of the emperor's generosity . The group leader turned to look at the newcomers, wincing at the sight of them.
"Bloody fools," he growled. - What are they so happy about?
"First, an extra year's pay," replied the soldier next to him with a faint smile. Then he raised his cup. - For our new emperor
The others at the table reacted to his gesture with a somber silence.
Crazy Nero
Undeterred by this, he continued in an ironic tone.
- What about you gentlemen? Nobody will drink with me for the health and well-being of our beloved Nero? Not? You're all sour like you Priscus
Mentioned looked away from the praetorians at the bar.
- Well, yes, with such a sludge on the throne, it's hard not to be sour. You've been on duty at the palace as long as I have been. You've seen a lot. You know what Nero is like. He eats up delicacies and clowns with his poets and actors. In addition, can be crazy . Remember when we had to escort him on one of his secret forays into the city? He got into an argument with some grandfather and told us to crush him against the wall and stabbed him to death himself.
Piso shook his head at the mere mention.
- It was not, admittedly, our day of glory.
"He wasn't," Priscus said through gritted teeth. - He was fucking not. And Nero will show what he can do only now, after he has become emperor. You will remember my words again.
Briton from an early age was prepared to rule the empire
- At least he gave us a nice coat.
"Some of us," he replied. "What about those fighting in Hispania?" They will not be happy when they return to Rome and find out how much silver has passed their nose.
- You are probably right ... Anyway, do you really think that Nero's younger brother would be a better emperor?
Briton set aside
Priscus thought for a moment, then shrugged.
- Maybe not. But Brit is not stupid. From an early age he was prepared to rule the empire . Besides, he is the natural son of Claudius. He has the right to be emperor, and he was sidelined by that sneaky bitch Agrippina and that slimy reptile Pallas.
At the mention of the Emperor's closest adviser, Piso looked around anxiously. The inn was the kind of place that imperial spies eagerly visited to listen to conversations and report to their principals in the palace who the troublemaker was. Pallas was known to be intolerant of those who criticized him, as well as of those who had criticized him. they dared to criticize the emperor. It seemed, however, that no one was eavesdropping this time. Piso took a sip of wine and shot his friend a warning look.
"You'd better keep your mouth shut, Priscus, or you'll end up getting yourself and us in trouble. I would prefer as much as you if the Briton was our new emperor, but we have no influence on it.
Treason
- Come on, who do I see here? Our friend Priscus and his miserable gang!
Priscus recognized the voice immediately, but didn't even turn around. He put his cup on the table and said aloud:
- Biblius, why don't you just piss off and give me a drink in peace?
- He pissed off? The newcomer stood at the head of the table, where he surveyed Priscus and his companions. - It is not right to greet an old friend who, in addition, did not come empty-handed. The Biblius yanked the cork from the wine under his arm and filled Priscus's cup to the brim before he could react. Then he looked at those seated at the table and lifted his cup.
Praetorians were the favorites of the emperors
- Well, gentlemen ... For our common benefactor. In Emperor Nero, may the gods bless him! He emptied his pot in one gulp, threw it on the floor, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "That's pretty good wine," he said.
Seeing that none of the men at the table had joined his toast, he looked at them and raised an eloquent eyebrow.
- What's that supposed to mean? Will you not drink for our emperor? This makes me feel disloyal. He glanced back at his companions. - What do you guys think? This company does not seem to like Nero very much. Some would say it's more than just a lack of loyalty. Maybe even high treason . You were hoping that little Briton would wear a scarlet? None of this. Our boy won. Yours has lost. The choice has already taken place, and you have to accept it and stop whining (...).
Fratricidal fight
Priscus smashed a clay cup against Biblius' face with one blow, breaking his nose. As his victim stumbled back, splashing in blood, he shouted to his companions:
- What are you waiting for? Get on with them!
The others sprang up, knocking over the table and benches, then screaming, raising their fists like hammers, pounced on the second group of praetorians . Priscus kept his eye on Biblius. He had always thought of him as a stupid gargoyle, and now is the time to teach him a lesson. He lunged forward and a hook slammed the other man on the chin, throwing his head back. Then he put his gut on him and straightened his jaw with the other hand. The biblius staggered, but then regained its balance. He looked wildly at Priscus.
- You're dead! He roared. - You're already fucking dead!
Before he could fulfill his threat, however, Priscus caught up with him and swung him. The Biblius tilted his head back to avoid the blow, but did so too slowly and the blow hit him right in the throat. Priscus felt his fist crush his opponent's larynx with a crunch. The Biblius grunted and brought both hands to his neck, trying to catch his breath. Priscus, standing on slightly bent legs and keeping his guard high, waited for his counter. Biblius took a few more steps back, squeezing his throat and jerking his lower jaw violently. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Suddenly he tripped over a stool and fell backward, hitting his head against the paving stone floor. Lying on his back with his eyes fixed on the ceiling, he blinked a few times, shuddered, and froze.
The chase
Priscus approached, but the main brawl was taking place at the bar and no one paid any attention to him. He prodded the Biblius with the toe of his shoe.
- Get up!
There was no reaction, so he kicked the man lying down. (…) The kicked man didn't even move and Priscus felt the first drops of cold sweat on his neck (…). The Biblius lay dead at his feet. It was as certain as sunrise and sunset. And for those who killed their comrade-in-arms, there was only one punishment. Priscus got up and began to back away toward the exit. (...) [O] turned on his heel and threw himself to run away. He ran out into the street, without his coat, straight into the cold rain. Instinctively, he moved in the opposite direction of the praetorian barracks. He raced down the street, pursued by screams from the inn.
After Nero took power, Rome plunged into chaos
Don't go far when he heard a cry behind him:
- There he is!
He sped up. He ran as fast as he could until he saw the opening of a dark side street in front of him, into which he jumped. He turned right then left without slowing down for a moment. The sounds of the pursuit slowly faded away in the distance. Even so, he kept running, trying to leave the pursuers as far behind him as possible. Finally he stopped in the street next to the Forum. He pressed his back against the wall, hidden in the arcades of the building, breathing heavily.
Crime and Punishment
He killed a man. It was an accident, an ordinary accident. However, such a translation could not justify him in the face of the rigors of military discipline. He knew that if he was captured, he would be after him. Especially when his antipathy towards Nero is taken into account . A split among the Praetorian Guard made senior officers nervous already. Surely would be punished by an example , both to show what awaits those who stand against the emperor and for killing a comrade-in-arms.
There was only one place he could hide now. A place where he will find other thinkers like him. People who would shelter him until his case dried up; who are waiting for the right moment to overthrow the usurper Nero and kill all his henchmen . They won't be thrilled with what Priscus has done, but they needed some of his specific skills and couldn't afford to refuse to help him.
Meanwhile, the rain had stopped and he steadied his breath and decided what to do next. He stepped out of the arcades, straightened, and strode forward, trying to look like someone who had nothing on his conscience. He knew exactly where to go and what the future awaited him.
Source:
The text is an excerpt from the latest book by Simon Scarrow, 'Caesars Day. Eagles of the Empire ", 16th volume of the best-selling Roman series, published by the Książnica publishing house.