Issue Number 32

August 2012

ANOTHER FROM WILLIE (aka SEAMUS/WILLIAM KEAYS)??

Dear all,

Here's the first tentative chapter of the new blockbuster 'Drago & The Christians'. Read it through to the last lines. Toodlepip! Seamus.

It was December. The seven hills of The City lay under a darkening sky with towering black clouds here and there infused with flashes of lightning. The battlements of Nimbus, having steadily drifted in from the Tyrrhenian Sea, appeared reluctant to move on. The rain began, dashing itself in sheets against temples, arches, porticos, palaces and statues of Gods and great men. Water poured along the streets, passageways and gulleys, disappearing into the drains and sewers built, with considerable foresight, by the Tarquin kings. The Tiber, receiving the tribute from the Pluvius the Rain God via the Cloaca Maxima, rose steadily into spate foaming and chaffing at her shores and returning his offering to the sea.

The citizens of Rome, although fearful of Jupiter's own thunder and lightning that crashed and flashed around the his Temple on the Capitoline sporadically illuminating its marble columns, welcomed the arrival of the storm with no little relief. The bands of armed soldiers that had been terrorising the streets were driven into cover. There was now a chance to get through the city without being robbed, beaten up or summarily executed by growling pseudo-Praetorian Guards of Emperor Vitellius at only the cost of becoming drenched to the skin. Breniannus Drago took this God-sent opportunity to finally reach the house of the City Prefect, Flavius Sabinus, on the Palatine. The doorkeeper, who was protected by a dozen sentinels of the Night-watch lounging in the vestibule, went to announce his arrival.

'Welcome back to Rome, young Drago.' Sabinus gripped both his forearms and shook them with undisguised affection. 'Let's get you warm and dry.' He beckoned to two slaves. 'Take Commander Drago to our bathhouse and see that he is well looked after....' he turned to his visitor. '....then we'll talk, at dinner.'

The Prefect and his seven other guests, all important men, arranged themselves around the dining table in the triclinium. Introductions had been made where necessary. Those who knew of Drago's exploits against the Parthians and the Jews, under Sabinus's nephew Titus, were hearty in their congratulations.

'I received a letter from my brother that told me of your mission to Britain,' said the Prefect to Drago 'may I assume it was successful?' He raised his eyebrows and inclined his head whilst reaching for a finger bowl.

Drago scanned Sabinus's demeanour then glanced around at the other guests.

'Don't worry, Commander,' murmured the Prefect 'they all support my brother being declared Emperor Flavius Caesar Vespanianus Augustus. We all look forward to the arrival of our loyal legions. They won an overwhelming victory over the Vitellians at Cremona in October.' The others nodded their support to this sentiment.

'That's reassuring, Prefect. The city still seems to be strongly for Vitellius, especially those who now call themselves Praetorian Guards. They're a real bunch of ruffians.'

After a thoughtful pause Drago answered the Prefect's question. 'Yes, my mission was successful. We now know the source of the Druids' gold. It will be a source of wealth for our new Emperor, your brother Vespasian.' There was a buzz of appreciation around the table.

Slaves attended to each diner's needs. Flashes of lightning with almost simultaneous crashes of thunder occasionally interrupted the conversation.

'I'm not surprised Jupiter is angry,' said Sabinus to Drago who was reclining next to him on middle bench to the left of the Prefect 'Rome has never had such a bloody civil war as this one. Cremona has been razed to the ground by our legions thanks to the impetuosity of Antonius Primus, commander of the Army of the Danube; not what dear brother Vespasian wanted.'

There was just a hint of envy in Sabinus's voice. On his voyage from Forum Juli to Ostia the week before, Drago had heard that leading citizens in the city thought that Sabinus would make a better Emperor than his younger brother.

'Have you had any contact with Vitellius?' asked Drago.

'In the past few days I have been trying to get him to abdicate. If he did so, the civil war would end...but he's shilly-shallying.' The Prefect continued, 'Mucianus, Commander-in-Chief of our forces in Europe, who I believe supported your mission to Britain, has offered Vitellius safe conduct and comfortable retirement if he packs up and goes.'

'Why doesn't he?' asked Drago.

Quintius Atticus, Consul, interjected, 'He's certainly attracted to the idea. He prattles on about how many servants and willing slave girls he can have in the best seaside villa in Campania, but he is scared to take up our offers.'

'Scared of what?' asked Drago.

'His so-called Praetorian Guards. You've seen them.... murdering savages from Germany.'

'Surely they aren't actually German?' asked Drago with surprise.

'No,' replied Sabinus 'they are mainly legionnaires, Roman citizens, of the Army of the Rhine....but they seem to have picked up some nasty combat habits and weaponry from the native tribes there....and a propensity for merciless rape and pillage.' he added.

'Vitellius bought their support by disbanding the real Praetorians, and replacing them with these soldiers of the Rhine legions. They not only get double pay but there's twice as many Guards as before.'

'He's led them to expect even more rewards,' said Atticus, 'so they want him to stay as Emperor.'

'They cannot believe that Vespasian will not eventually reward Vitellius and his pseudo-Guards with the benefit of death, so they obstruct any overtures we make to the other side.' Sabinus concluded the conversation by calling for the entertainment to begin. The storm outside continued its flashing tumult.

After the entertainment Drago managed to get Sabinus on his own. 'Is there somewhere we can talk, Prefect?' he asked.

Sabinus led the way to his study. 'Take a seat, Drago. What's on your mind?'

Drago dreaded this moment, conscious that he was about to show un-stoic weakness. 'I have a companion, a refugee from the Druids of Britain,' he ventured.

'A citizen?'

Drago paused for some time, then 'No, a young woman....from Judea.'

'A Jewess?' Sabinus raised his eyebrows and leant forward in his chair, elbows on the table.

"Yes. She's Jewish. She's also a member of a Jewish sect that call themselves Christians."

Moments passed, slowly. Sabinus shook his head from side to side. 'Drago, you certainly know how to pick trouble.' The Prefect sat back in his chair, 'You were in Parthia with Titus when Rome burned. Nero blamed it on Eastern sects, the Jews and the followers of Isis, and any other foreigners readily available for merciless persecution.'

Drago was troubled but tried not to show it. 'I had no choice but to follow Nero's orders.'

Sabinus had sensed Drago's discomfort, he paused, 'But I've not heard the term Christian.' He thoughtfully put his fingertips together. "'As Prefect of this city I command the Urban Cohort, as it was until recently, and the Night-watch. Not much escapes my attention. The word Christ is Greek is it not?' He didn't wait for an answer, not that Drago felt inclined to comment. 'It means "The Anointed One".' He thought some more. 'I think you mean the followers of a rabble-rouser, a Jewish prophet crucified by the Prefect of Judea, Pontius Pilate, at the request of the Jewish hierarchy itself some thirty-five years ago.'

Drago nodded.

'We executed two of the leaders of this sect only last year. One called Peter, a non-citizen, asked to be crucified upside down. He, like all the rest, refused to worship the Divine Julius and any other of our deified leaders. His body was brought to be the Gemonian Steps to be exposed to the dogs and rats. My spies tell me his bones, the ones that we left that is, were buried outside the city on the Vatican Hill.' Sabinus continued, 'The other leader, Paul of Tarsus, a citizen, was a more difficult problem. He was a great letter writer, stirring up trouble throughout our Mediterranean provinces." He paused again, the trace of a smirk on his face. 'We cut his head off; swift and painless justice.'

Drago sat, silent and more troubled. How could he save Naomi from such prejudice?

'Where is this girl now?' Sabinus asked, the softness of the question giving Drago some hope.

'She's in the villa of a friend, on the road from Ostia.'

'How have you, shall we say, become attached to her.' Another softly-asked question.

'Have you got a Kindle?'

'Yes,' replied Sabinus, 'I use it to download the works of Homer. There's no copyright problems there!'

'Then read "Drago and the Druids' Gold", that'll answer your question.':-D

(I read through to the last lines, realised what Willie was on about and bought it for the princely sum of 77p. Geddit? Brian.)