Diocles had always hated the kind of opulence that surrounded him there in Sirmium. He had always been a simple man of simple means, but how could he not? Coming from nothing had that effect on him.
He gazed up noticing every detail in the purple, gold-trimmed banners that draped the walls of the grand banquet hall, adorned with the imperial eagle. The air was thick with the scent of exotic spices and roasted meats, a testament to the wealth and power on display. The buzz of conversation around him interested him very little. They were politicians and career military men with their wives bantering and laughing, their togas and stolas reflecting the flickering light of oil lamps.
Although the magnificence of this event made Diocles uncomfortable, he couldn’t help but accept that this was indeed deserved. He’d been invited to this banquet by none other than the Emperor Aurelian himself. Aurelian had just spent the last five years reuniting the Roman Empire that had split into three parts. In a campaign of unprecedented success, Aurelian had marched his legions west and then east to make the Empire one whole unit again. If anyone deserved such grand celebration, it was Emperor Aurelian.
Slight pressure on his arm made Diocles snap out of his thoughts. His wife Prisca was standing beside him, and was alerting him to someone approaching the two of them.
“It’s been too long, brother.” said Lucius Aper as he stretched out his arm to Diocles. Diocles reached out as well, and they grasped each other's forearms and gave a sturdy Roman handshake.
“Too long indeed, Lucius.” Diocles replied as Aper gave a respectful how to Prisca, who gave her usual warm, beautiful smile in return. Diocles took a moment to look at Aper’s toga, draped by a smooth, blue silk and trimmed with a gold that seemed to glow. “A member of the Senate now?”
Aper smiled wide with pride. “I’ve finally made it!”
“Have you been doing anything of note?”
“Not with the Emperor around. There’s little he consults us about now.”
Diocles took a moment to glance at the table sitting at the front of the room, where a chair that could almost be described as a throne sat empty. Behind it loomed a towering statue of Jupiter, King of the Gods, standing slightly hunched with an outstretched hand as if offering a fallen child a means to stand. “He saved our Empire. Maybe he has the right to make some unilateral decisions.”
“I trust the Emperor. I love the Emperor. He’s favored by the Gods, of this there can be no doubt. Who gets to wield that power when Aurelian is gone?”
“The Gods will decide if we trust in them.”
“Right, of course.” Aper also took a glance at the empty chair. “Of course.” Aper spotted someone else in the crowd and raised a finger to get their attention. “If you and your lovely wife would excuse me.” He smiled as he shook Diocles’ hand once more, nodded at Prisca, and strode his way over to and elderly man. The man he approached wore similar robes to Aper, silky blue and gold-trimmed.
Diocles watched the two of them talk for a moment. They weren’t talking openly as Aper and Diocles had just done. They were pressed against a wall with their voices low and occasionally taking paranoid glances around the room.
“I wonder what his business with Tacitus might be.” Prisca wondered out loud.
Diocles turned to face his wife, partly because he didn’t want to be caught staring at clandestine conversations. “You know that Senator?”
“My grandfather does. They’ve voted in the Senate Hall together for years. I actually received interesting news about him from my grandfather.”
“News?”
“When Aurelian arranged this banquet, he sent a request to the Senate for members to represent the voice of the Senate here. Tacitus practically begged to be one of the Senators sent here, and for Aper to join him.”
“I would expect anyone in the Empire to beg for the privilege of Aurelian’s company.”
“If you knew Tacitus, you’d certainly find it strange. He has no particular love for the Emperor, and he’s been no friend of us Illyrians.”
Diocles scoffed. “What’d we do to Tacitus?”
“Aurelian has filled his court with Illyrians, and continues to do so. I can see the problem a Senator has with moving the power base away from the Eternal City.”
“And yet, he begged to be here in Aurelian’s presence, amongst us dirty Illyrians.” Diocles was beginning to understand, and Prisca nodded in acknowledgement as she reached for a goblet of wine nearby.
Ill feelings towards the Illyrians from the Senatorial class of Rome hadn’t been anything new. Illyrians were a group of people born along the Adriatic Coast and not on the Roman peninsula itself, so those born on the peninsula often considered them barely better than Barbarians if at all. Being so close to the northern border of the Empire along the Danube River made the Illyrians battle worn over the few decades previous of almost constant warfare. When Aurelian, an Illyrian himself, secured ultimate power on the Emperor’s throne, he promoted a lot of his Illyrian countrymen around him knowing that they were competent fighters loyal to him. Most Senators approached this issue by avoiding the Illyrians entirely pretending as if they didn’t exist. Some Senators, like Tacitus, were vocal in their disdain of Aurelian’s brother countrymen. Aurelian didn’t have much time to do anything about this, as he was busy accomplishing the impossible in reuniting a shattered Empire.
“May I borrow your husband for a moment, Prisca?” A familiar voice said from behind the couple. Both turned to see the Praetorian Prefect, Probus already close by them. He had always had a knack for maneuvering unseen which served him well in his position as the head of the Emperor’s elite personal guard unit, the Praetorians. He was flanked by two of his subordinates as in those tumultuous times in the Empire even the guards needed guards. Prisca accepted a polite bow from Probus, shot a supportive smile at Diocles, and was quickly off to mingle with another group.
“How did a barbarian like yourself ever land such a goddess as that?” Probus said with a sly grin and Diocles chuckled.
“If only I knew, sir. I just thank the Gods every day for the gift.” Diocles waited expectantly for whatever it was his old general wanted. Diocles had served under him long enough to know when something was concerning him, even through his attempts at remaining jovial on the surface.
“The Emperor would like to speak with you privately after dinner and the council meeting about an issue of some concern to him. A taxation issue.”
“He wants to know if I’m the one pilfering from the Empire’s coffers with the money I should be paying my men?” Diocles always enjoyed this moment, the subtle expressions of surprise when someone realized he knew more than he should. Prisca always warned him to be wary of letting on just how much he knew in this world, but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself. Besides, Probus could be trusted, and had always made sure to get Diocles promoted at every opportunity he could. “I have no involvement, and I don’t know who does. I’ve been investigating as much as I can myself, and I couldn’t present the question to you or the Emperor without the answer.”
Probus accepted this news with a slight nod while glancing around the room. He was a good Praetorian Prefect, always keeping an eye on potential threats. “Either way, Emperor Aurelian would like to speak with you about it. Praise be to the Emperor, he’s a phenomenal man, but he’s certainly not kind to those plagued by corruption. Don’t give him a reason to think you may be involved.”
“Will he be joining us soon? I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
“You will tonight.” Probus patted Diocles on the shoulder and left him standing by himself in the sea of Roman elites. That sea seemed to part to make way for the trio of guards as they exited the room.
Diocles scanned the room and found his wife again, laughing and enjoying herself amongst friends she likely hadn’t seen in years. Her grandfather being a Senator meant she spent most of her childhood visiting the Eternal City and growing up with these very people Diocles couldn’t stand being around. He’d never thought he could miss the hardships of protecting the Danube until now. He figured it would benefit both him and her if he let her be social and reunite with old friends. Sometimes he just enjoyed watching her be her smiling, talkative self from a distance.
After a few moments Diocles felt the mood in the room shift suddenly. Boisterous voices became whispers and all faces began turning towards the grand double door entrance to the banquet hall. Diocles joined them in turning his attention in that direction to finally lay eyes on Emperor Aurelian.
He wasn’t at all what Diocles had pictured in reading the reports of his heroic and exotic military exploits. His face wasn’t sharp and imposing as Diocles had imagined, but soft, kind, and inviting. In other ways he remained exactly as imagined. He stood with his chest puffed out, ready to take on any dumb enough to challenge him. This made the already rather tall man appear to tower even higher above all else in the room. Diocles was shocked to feel as if Aurelian somehow even glowed a bit. Perhaps it was just the magnificent gold trim on his Imperial purple toga. The full suit of armor wouldn’t have made sense at a banquet amongst politicians Diocles realized. He’d somehow never imagined the legendary Aurelian this way, a politician and not a general.
The gathered audience began to clap and cheer to show their approval for their Emperor. Diocles shot a quick glance over at Aper, behind who stood Tacitus. Aper actually appeared to be enthusiastic about the arrival of Auerlian while Tacitus clapped slowly and with a still face, as if obligated to do so.
Aurelian sat in his seat at the head of the largest table, directly under the statue of Jupiter in the throne-like chair befitting a man with such status. Everyone in the room began finding their seats and sitting down as well. Diocles again found Prisca, who was now seated, and took the empty chair beside her. Most eyes remained on the Emperor at the front of the room, who raised a hand to signal that he was about to speak. Instantly the tiny amounts of sound that remained in the room evaporated. A ring falling to the ground would have sounded like the strike of a warhammer.
“Tonight we celebrate a united Rome again!” Aurelian’s powerfully deep and rich voice echoed through the hall. “Let’s feast!” Cheers erupted once more from the crowd, and died down again as everyone began filling their plates and digging in. Diocles took a moment to look at the statue of Jupiter, and quietly murmured a prayer of thanks for the abundance before he too helped himself to some food.
—
Diocles had known where to go after dinner for the meeting this had all been about. It was a room much smaller than the banquet hall at the center of which stood a circular stone table with some hand drawn maps decorating the top of it.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
From his understanding, Aurelian had wanted a few key representatives from each power base within the Empire to hear his plans for the future. Aper and Tacitus came as representatives of the Senate. Diocles was invited to represent the military along with two other generals, Carus and Carausius. Diocles worked closely with Carausius, as they were both generals protecting the borderlands of the province Dalmatia. Diocles knew little of Carus however, so he needed to learn what he could of the man.
The last person in the room was a man approaching an elderly age hunched over in the corner of the room at a candle lit desk scribbling notes of some kind. Diocles had never met him and knew nothing of him. As they all waited around the table Diocles decided to approach him and introduce himself.
“Hello, my name is Diocles.” Diocles politely stretched an arm out to shake with the man, who slowly looked up from his paper. His eyes flicked back and forth between Diocles’ own before the man broke eye contact to respond.
“Eros.” Eros tentatively reached out his hand and shook Diocles’. Diocles took this moment of distraction to scan the paper that lay on the desk. Reading quickly he realized they were notes taken on times of meetings with room for notes on what took place. He could see the time the banquet had been at and the time this meeting was supposed to have started. The last thing he could discern was a private meeting with Carausius before an opening door grabbed his attention. He broke the shake with Eros to see Aurelian entering the room confidently trailed by Probus and some Praetorians.
Aurelian marched to the front of the room where the maps were and leaned forward against the table supported by his arms. Probus stood immediately to his right and the two other Praetorians stood a bit further back at attention. Aper, Tacitus, Carausius, Diocles, and Carus all took places standing around the table waiting.
“It’s time for us to discuss my future for the Roman Empire, now that it’s finally the Roman Empire again.” Aurelian said and immediately raised a hand as Carus and Carausius were about to applaud again. “No need for that here.”
“What comes next, Emperor?” Carus inquired.
“I’ve brought the vengeance of Sol Invictus down upon those that attempted to split Rome.” Diocles internally winced at this. Sol Invictus was a God of Aurelian’s creation, a singular God that according to him ruled all others. He loved Aurelian but became increasingly uncomfortable with the movement growing behind Gods that didn’t align with the traditional Roman customs. Aurelian didn’t notice Diocles’ discomfort, and therefore continued unabated. “One of those enemies remains at large and only ever gets stronger with time.”
Tacitus spoke up. “What enemy?”
Aurelian paused briefly. Was he giving the revelation dramatic effect or was he struggling to get the revelation out? “The Sassanids.” Nobody else in the room dared to speak, and they awaited more from their Emperor. “Fifteen years ago the Emperor Valerian rode out to defend our borders from the Sassanid Persians never to return. I’ve heard rumor that when they captured him alive they took him to Ctesiphon and imprisoned him there for the Shahanshah to keep as some sort of entertainment. He may even still be alive today, tortured for the amusement of those savages.”
Carus turned and spit on the floor angrily. They all knew about what had happened to Valerian, but it had been some time ago and the Empire couldn’t deal with it at the time without collapsing.
“It’s time we repay the Sassanids for their crimes against us, and I intend to collect the debt myself. We march east in the morning.” Carus put his hand on Carausius’ shoulder and shook him a bit playfully. Both men were eager to show their support, but remained quiet to honor the Emperor’s wishes.
Tacitus glanced angrily at Carus and Carausius and spoke up. “This campaign is impossible, I don’t think the Senate will allow for invasion of the Sassanids.”
Aurelian faced Tacitus and spoke in a matter of fact tone. “This isn’t a request for permission. You are here so you can inform the Senate of my plans.” Tacitus, seeming to know what was good for him, showed no further protest. Aurelian turned his attention back to the rest of the room. “Get some rest. The future of Rome starts today.” Aurelian then made a quick line for the door followed by his guards and was gone. Eros scribbled a few more lines, then grabbed his supplies and was quickly out the door as well.
As soon as they were gone, Tacitus spoke up once more. “This is madness. An invasion of Sassanid Persia? Has he gone insane?”
Diocles calmly stepped closer to Tacitus. “Be mindful of your tone.”
Aper spoke for the first time since he’d entered the room “We apologize. He is our Emperor after all. But Diocles, please. Rome doesn’t survive such an impossible invasion. You must know this.”
“Impossible?” Carausius said. “This is Aurelian we are talking about. Is anything impossible for armies at his command?”
Diocles did not want to admit it in front of those who despised the Illyrians, but even for a figure of Aurelian’s size, there had to be a limit. He actually found himself secretly agreeing with Tacitus and Aper. He didn’t think Rome, in its crippled and beaten state, could survive an invasion of an Empire as powerful as the Sassanids had built.
“Possible or impossible, that rotten pig scum must pay for what they’ve done to our people and Valerian.” Carus sneered and spat on the floor once more.
Diocles began to make his way to the exit, as he had a meeting to prepare for. “Whether we agree or not, it’s time to support the decision of the Emperor.”
“The Illyrians speak, and the Romans must obey.” Tacitus grumbled.
Diocles paused halfway through the door. “And it’s best not to forget that, Tacitus.” He couldn’t believe he’d let that out, but Tacitus’ insolence needed an answer.
—
“What could that meeting with Carausius be about?” Diocles asked Prisca as they both awaited his own private meeting with Aurelian.
“It has to be about the Governor’s chair.” Prisca responded. “That’s the only thing possible.”
Diocles knew Prisca was right. Shortly before invites for that celebration went out, the Governor of Dalmatia, Diocles’ home province, had been vacated. Diocles realized now it was to promote that Governor to command armies to march on the Sassanids, but ever since then he’d wondered who the replacement might be. Carausius, although only thirty-five making him ten years Diocles’ junior, had made no secret of his desire for the post. He wasn’t Illyrian. As far as Diocles knew, Carausius had been born in northern Gaul.
“Aurelian couldn’t possibly make a move as short sighted as that. Carausius is a talented general, but he cannot be allowed to govern.”
Prisca stepped closer to the seated Diocles and put a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Are you upset that he may be considering Carausius for the post, or that he may not be considering you?” The question took Diocles by surprise. Prisca had always had a gift for seeing the truth through convolution. She often kept Diocles honest with himself, even if he’d rather not be.
A knock could then be heard coming from the door. “Sir?” said a young man’s voice from the other side.
“Enter.” Diocles said.
A boy looking to still be in his late teenage years clad in a bronze colored chestplate and wearing the cingulum with its leather, metal studded straps hanging down to his knees entered the room. He stood at attention with his arms to his sides and chest puffed out to give a message. “Sir, the Emperor will see you now.”
Diocles glanced at his wife. His heart started to beat a bit faster and he could feel his stomach beginning to turn over. Sensing his unease, Prisca beamed at him a beautiful smile and the unease temporarily subsided. Diocles then stood up and left the room with the young soldier, who kept pace just in front of him.
As he was being led, Diocles took a moment to look at the boy’s armor. The leather was extremely worn in some areas and some of the studs on his cingulum had fallen out. By the state of what Diocles could see of his boots, he couldn’t have made a sure bet they still had a sole. Diocles then also noticed his light olive complexion and the way he wore his curly, dark brown hair.
“You’re Illyrian?” Diocles asked
“Yes, sir. I’m from Dalmatia.”
“Best province in the Empire, I hear.” The boy smiled at the joke, but it was possible he was just doing so out of courtesy to a superior. “How old are you, son?”
“I’m 19, approaching 20 soon, sir.” The boy rounded a corner and Diocles continued to follow.
“You’ve joined the legions recently?”
“I had to, sir. I want to make the best life possible for my family.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, I’ve just had a son. I want to give my family everything. For me, that meant joining the legions. Here we are, sir.” They had arrived at a large wooden door of such simplicity one would never guess the Emperor of Rome worked behind it.
“What’s your name, son?”
“Constantius, sir.” Constantius gave the Roman salute, to which Diocles gave a small smile and waved his hand to let the boy know he was dismissed. He then opened the door to enter the room.
Although the door was simple, the desk Emperor Aurelian sat behind was grand. It was made of a fine oak, sanded and polished to perfection. Several maps and charts lay strewn in front of Aurelian, who looked when Diocles entered. Probus stood behind Aurelian as always, and he motioned at the chair directly in front of the Emperor. Diocles took his seat and noticed the man named Eros again sitting in the corner at a candle-lit desk scribbling away.
“Who has been stealing from my Empire, Diocles?” Aurelian wasted absolutely no time with niceties. This was probably another reason the Senators despised him. Eros peered up from his scribbling to watch the drama unfold.
“I don’t know.” The reassurance Diocles had felt with the warm look from Prisca was quickly evaporating under the stern gaze of Emperor Aurelian. Eros looked at Aurelian, back to Diocles, back to Aurelian, and then went back to his notes. Aurelian considered Diocles for a moment before speaking again.
“I wasn’t pleased to hear your knowledge of the missing funds had gone unreported.” Diocles involuntarily made a slight movement as he was about to protest, but Aurelian immediately quieted him with a quick raise of the palm. “But, Probus holds you in enormously high regard, and assures me of your trustworthiness. I’ll need you to investigate, and report to me all your findings. The men stealing from our Empire will meet their end at my blade.”
“Yes, sir.” Diocles felt relief and he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t involved in the thievery and Aurelian was a good leader. Why had he been worried about a confrontation on the matter?
“Why do you oppose my plan to march east on the Sassanids?” Again, Aurelian wasted no time getting to the point, even if it did throw Diocles off a bit. Aurelian saw the slight hesitation for exactly what it was. “You were the only one that didn’t say anything when I revealed my intentions. From what I’ve been told by Probus you’re a deceptively intelligent man. Had you wanted to curry favor with me you could have shown full-throated support from the plan. If you disagreed you knew better than that sniveling shit Tacitus to say anything about it publicly. So I ask again, why do you oppose my plans?”
Diocles felt transparent in that moment. It seemed Aurelian could see through everything, and so Diocles felt there was nothing to offer but the full truth. “Sir. You’ve just come out of battles victorious that would have destroyed us under any other Emperor. The military is weak, tired, and dwindled in numbers. Our defenses are shaken, and merchants across the Empire have taken advantage of decades of chaos to increase prices of their goods to a citizenry that is powerless to stop it. The Empire is limping along. We must take the victories the Gods have given us and rebuild. If we overextend we could lose it all.”
Aurelian leaned back in his chair and finally took his piercing eyes off of Diocles to look down at his desk pondering. The relief was short lived, as after a few seconds they shot back up to Diocles. This time, however, he had a hint of a smile on his face. “Your words are powerful, and they’ve given me much to consider. The weaknesses you’ve discussed have not gone unnoticed by the Sassanids. The plan will still move forward as we need to strike them while we retain the ability to catch them off guard.” Diocles nodded in acceptance, but Aurelian had more to say. “You are to head back to Dalmatia as soon as time permits. I’m glad to say that when Dalmatia needed a defense-minded and thoughtful leader, you were ready to lead her forward.”
Diocles couldn’t help but voice his confusion. “Sir?”
“Word has already been sent to those stationed in Dalmatia. You are her new Governor.” These words still did not fully resonate with Diocles, even as he and Aurelian stood up to shake on it, signifying the conclusion of the meeting.
—
Diocles was still a bit stunned, even sitting back on the bed in his room next to Prisca. He couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or not. Now that the news was sinking in he realized how badly he had wanted the position, but fear of failure had kept him in denial. He’d felt he was in a dream-like state the whole time he prepared to go to sleep.
As his head hit the pillow, plans for reform were already making their way around his head. Every annoyance he had with the bureaucracy of Dalmatia was now at his fingertips to control. As he drifted off imagining himself in the Governor’s chair, a startled yell from outside yanked him from his sleep.
He rushed outside to find a soldier calling for help until he saw what had made the soldier cry out. They called this man “Restitutor Orbis” or “Restorer of the World” after he’d saved the entire Empire, or the world as the Romans knew it. He also went by Sol Invictus, the Unconquered Sun. Entire Empires had risen and fallen in an attempt to accomplish what lay before Diocles in this moment. Draped in the Imperial gold-trimmed purple, laying face down in a pool of his own blood, laid the Emperor Aurelian in the spot where he had breathed his last breath.