The Wall

THE WALL ALSO BY ADRIAN GOLDSWORTHY The Vindolanda Series Vindolanda The Encircling Sea Brigantia The City of Victory Series The Fort The City Non-Fiction Hadrian’s Wall Philip and Alexander The Eagle and the Lion THE WALL CITY OF VICTORY, BOOK 3 ADRIAN GOLDSWORTHY www.headofzeus.com First published in the UK in 2023 by Head of Zeus, part of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc Copyright © Adrian Goldsworthy, 2023 The moral right of Adrian Goldsworthy to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. ISBN (HB): 9781789545821 ISBN (XTPB): 9781789545838 ISBN (E): 9781789545814 Cover design: Matt Bray Map design: Jeff Edwards Head of Zeus First Floor East 5–8 Hardwick Street London EC1R 4RG WWW.HEADOFZEUS.COM For all the Hadrian’s Wall scholars past, present and future. May they continue to fascinate, enlighten and confuse us as they seek to understand that unique monument. Contents Also by Adrian Goldsworthy Title Page Copyright Dedication Map ACT I Prologue Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII ACT II Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII Chapter XVIII Chapter XIX Chapter XX Chapter XXI Chapter XXII Chapter XXIII Chapter XXIV ACT III Chapter XXV Chapter XXVI Chapter XXVII Chapter XXVIII Chapter XXIX Chapter XXX Chapter XXXI Chapter XXXII Chapter XXXIII Chapter XXXIV Epilogue Historical Note Glossary About the Author An Invitation from the Publisher Map ACT I PROLOGUE The house of the legatus Augusti of Syria, Antioch on the Orontes, seventeenth day before the Kalends of September, in the consulship of Q. Aquilius Niger and M. Rebilius Apronianus1 HADRIAN SIGHED AS he turned back to the intercepted letter. The writer was a decent enough fellow and good at his job, but so naïve. A lot of former slaves were shrewd, but Phaedimus the imperial chamberlain wrote with an indiscretion out of character for a man so punctilious in his duties. It was as if he believed no one could ever eavesdrop to words on a page as they might to a spoken conversation. I worry for the health of the princeps, our Lord Trajan, the best of masters, who has treated me so fairly and who gave me my freedom all those years ago. His rules are strict and precise, his standards high, as we who serve in his familia know all too well. Yet if you are diligent and follow those same rules, he has always been kind. Few households have been as happy, whether we were in Rome, in the country, or off to the wars. The princeps is no longer young, it is true, but those of us who have seen him in these last years in the mountains of Armenia and the deserts of Assyria could not but marvel at the vigour of a man in his sixty-second year, who marched as hard and rode as far as any soldier in the army. That was true. The older Trajan had become, the more he had felt the need to prove his vigour to everyone – most of all himself. The Lord Trajan is always happiest when he is with his army in the field, heavy with sweat, his grey hair and face plastered with dust or drenched with rain. The body slaves shake their heads when they tell of how much work has to be done to make him decent again, but by dinner he is immaculate once more in tunic and cloak, or sometimes even toga, and spotless shoes, and the next morning he will be ready before dawn, armour gleaming, boots and leathers polished. Trajan would have enjoyed all that, always wanting to be the gruff military man. The lure of fighting and victory drew him even more than wine, and he had always been a heavy drinker. Only lately has his appetite declined, as I should know, for it is my task to supervise every meal. He and his officers and comites used to eat heartily, always plenty of meat, and everything served and chosen with some style and discernment, though I say it myself. It was all in the finest of taste, for I cannot resist the pun— No, you couldn’t, could you, Hadrian thought. —without ever descending into the vulgarity of too many rich men, senators included, who believe that something has merit simply because it is rare, expensive or indulgent. These were good, decent meals for the best and most decent of emperors, and that is exactly what the Lord Trajan demanded and received. He ate well, although often the dishes were cold because he loved to talk and laugh. I am forbidden to prepare copies of each one, starting at different times, so that as the conversation began to fade, I could have the slaves smoothly substitute the cold platters with ones that were just ready. Hadrian could hear his cousin’s voice, as if Trajan was actually in the room. ‘Leave that sort of thing to the likes of Mark Antony and his tart.’ He skimmed through the next lines, as Phaedimus extended himself to discuss meals and their preparation, and what was proper for a princeps and his guests. Slaves and freedmen often had very fixed views on such things, for most men naturally came to believe that the concerns of their day were genuinely of the gravest importance to the wider world. After more than a page of