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IN ROME
Pupienus: Prefect of the City
Pupienus Maximus: His elder son
Pupienus Africanus: His younger son
Balbinus: A patrician of dissolute ways
Gallicanus: A Senator of Cynic views
Maecenas: His intimate friend
Tranquillina: Ambitious wife of Timesitheus
Maecia Faustina: Daughter of the late Emperor Gordian the Elder, and sister of the late Emperor Gordian the Younger
Marcus Junius Balbus: Her young son
Caenis: A prostitute in the Subura
The Die-cutter: Her neighbour and client, a workman in the Mint
IN AQUILEIA
Menophilus: A Senator of Stoic persuasion, co-commander of the defence
Crispinus: Another Senator with a philosophical demeanour, the other commander of the town
IN THE NORTH
Maximinus Thrax: The Emperor
Caecilia Paulina: His deceased wife
Verus Maximus: His son and heir
Apsines of Gadara: Secretary to Maximinus
Flavius Vopiscus: A general
Anullinus: Praetorian Prefect
Volo: Commander of the frumentarii
Julius Capitolinus: Equestrian commander of the 2nd Legion Parthica
Dernhelm: A young barbarian hostage, beginning to be called Ballista
Timesitheus: Equestrian official, a prisoner on his way to Maximinus
Honoratus: Senatorial governor of Moesia Inferior on the Danube
Iunia Fadilla: Wife of Verus Maximus, on the run
IN THE EAST
Priscus: Equestrian governor of Mesopotamia
Philip: His brother
Catius Clemens: Governor of Cappadocia, long-term supporter of Maximinus
Ardashir: Sassanid King of Kings
Africa
The City of Carthage, Eight Days before the Kalends of April, AD238
‘Lay down your arms!’
As he spoke, Capelianus turned in the saddle, took in the enemy. On both flanks their levies were running, back under the aqueduct, pelting through the tombs towards the illusory safety of the walls of Carthage. His own auxiliaries, all discipline gone, were chasing them, hacking at their defenceless backs. Here in the centre, half of their regulars had put down their standards and weapons, and stretched out empty hands in supplication. Only a thousand still stood against him; the Urban Cohort, and the young men formed into the sham Praetorian Guard of the two usurpers. Win them over, disarm them, and victory was complete. Africa would be won back for Maximinus, the revolt of the Gordiani crushed. Not a battle, but a massacre.
‘Lay down your arms, fellow-soldiers. Your fight is done and over.’
Frightened eyes stared at him over the wall of shields a few paces ahead. They were outnumbered two to one. These locally raised Praetorians were not real soldiers. There was no sign of the younger Gordian.
‘Your pretend Emperor has fled. Those who led you astray have fled. No mounted officers remain under your standards.’
Still the enemy did not move.
‘Return to your military oath. You were misled. The clemency of your true Emperor Maximinus is boundless. I am merciful. There will be no retribution.’
A stirring in the ranks opposite. A tall, heavy man, pushing his way to the front. He was bareheaded.
Capelianus realized his mistake. His opponent had not fled.
Gordian the Younger stepped forth, like some terrible, martial epiphany.
The din of the killing was distant. Into the unnerving silence, here in the eye of the storm, Gordian shouted.
‘We will stand together to the end!’
Gordian drew his sword, levelled the blade at the man who had come to kill him.
‘The coward Capelianus has put himself at our mercy.’
Gordian was just a dozen paces away; big, powerful, clad in armour, exuding menace.
‘Some god has blinded him. Kill the cuckold, and
