And I Repeat

I tried to pull Caracalla, swinging his sword in all directions, away from the now-former general Acacius and Lucilla, who was standing behind her husband. It was difficult for me, but still, physical superiority prevailed.   "Hang his guts on the gates! And crucify her!" shouted my brother, his voice breaking. I noted with bitterness that lately I had heard his shouts too often.   "Take them away!" I called to the servants. The guards led the conspirators out of the hall, and I managed to seat Caracalla in a nearby chair.   Acacius' betrayal went too far. I was furious and bewildered. He had served my father for so long, I trusted him as the closest of my subjects. How could he do this to me? Of course, I had an answer to this question – the grain sale. I hadn't considered how much others might dislike such a decision, but I was completely unprepared for a conspiracy and an assassination attempt. The old senators were harmless, unlike the generals and soldiers. How did I manage to miscalculate?   The world was crumbling beneath my feet. First Macrinus, then Caracalla, struck by illness, and now my own general. There should be no mercy for such treachery. I thirsted for revenge.   Suddenly, Macrinus addressed me. He said something about the fate of the conspirators being decided by the gods in the arena of the Colosseum, if my brother and I didn't want to cause discontent among the people by improperly executing a hero of Rome. There was some truth in this, but I was in no state to listen to the advice of a slave owner. Speaking of him. Why did he need all this? Why did he uncover the conspiracy, why is he now offering execution options? I felt a familiar sensation: something was wrong again, and I couldn't understand what it was.   But I had to play my part. In the past few days, I had managed to get closer to his daughter. Now it was time to thank Macrinus, to say something worthy. But what?   "Lately, Macrinus, I have begun to treat you not as a subject, but as a friend," I hoped I sounded convincing, looking the slave owner straight in the eyes and extending my hand to him. It was disgusting from the very feeling that I had to be so careful, but I knew that this was a long game, where one mistake could cost me my life. "Thank you."   Macrinus kissed my fingers.   "I am glad to be of service to you, Emperor," he replied and bowed.   I had no desire to talk to him, I had to think everything over. Acacius' men were watching Macrinus; now his army was left headless, and I had lost a loyal assistant. The Praetorians obeyed Caracalla to the same extent as they obeyed me, so I couldn't use their capabilities in secret from my brother. I urgently needed to appoint a new general. I had one in mind.   Macrinus was still standing nearby.   "I want your Numidian to fight Acacius in a week," I ordered, brooking no objections." Until then, let the traitor sit in prison. You may go."   "Of course, master," I heard the submissive reply, after which Macrinus departed.   Caracalla sat in a chair, breathing heavily. His face was still sleepy, but by his flushed cheeks, I could tell he was at the peak of indignation.   "Why didn't you let me kill them?" His voice sounded almost offended.   "Did you hear what Macrinus offered?" I turned to Caracalla.   "Gods, the arena of the Colosseum and blah-blah-blah... Boring," my brother said thoughtfully, throwing his sword aside."Maybe torture is better after all?" He cheered up at this phrase.   I remained silent, absorbed in my thoughts. No, torture definitely wouldn't do.   "But, brother," Caracalla continued, breaking the silence,"despite all your suspicions, Macrinus turned out to be useful. See, he's on our side. And you didn't want to believe me."   He laughed. I didn't see anything funny about it. My brother's undeniable favorite was weaving some dangerous intrigue, again leaving me in the dark and confused. Today he discredited the general, my father's favorite. And what will happen when Macrinus feels his power? A former slave was able to eliminate the commander of an entire empire in one night... It would be nothing for him to strike at the emperor.   "Don't flatter yourself, Caracalla," I said casually, heading to my chambers."I'm tired, and I don't have the strength to argue with you. Good night. And please don't get involved in this matter. I'll take care of everything."   "Good night, brother," I heard a cheerful voice, but I didn't turn around. I already knew what I would do — only some details remained.   We'll see who laughs last.   ***   Even though the showdown with the traitors had exhausted me, I couldn't sleep again. I was overwhelmed by a hot wave of panic because of my own helplessness. Macrinus was aiming for the emperor's throne — of this, I had no doubt. But the slave owner was unpredictable; like the sea, he would calm down and then knock me off my feet. I couldn't even roughly calculate his next move in this game.   The easiest way to deal with him was to accuse Caracalla of treason before the entire Senate. The next day, he would be thrown down from the Tarpeian Rock along with Macrinus, and I would remain the sole ruler of Rome. This thought warmed my heart and calmed my mind, but I knew for sure that I couldn't do that.   I loved my brother, loved him more than anything in the world. And whatever he did, I realized that I wouldn't stop him. Of course, I didn't want to die. I only wanted us to be left alone. Just me, him, and absolute power over the empire, as we dreamed. But my brother's ailment was making itself known, and Macrinus was taking advantage of this, assigning me the role of an observer who must fall at the right moment. Thinking about this, I came to the conclusion again and again that all my decisions rested on the willingness to sacrifice Caracalla. I wasn't ready. Never. I had only one advantage — Alfrea.   It wasn't difficult to lure her to live permanently in the palace: gifts and notes passed by servants did the trick. She had been living in separate quarters for concubines for two days now, and I was waiting for Caracalla to lose his vigilance to call Macrinus's daughter to me. She was my hostage, and I think her father understood that one mistake on his part would lead to tragedy. I wasn't in love with the girl, although, without a doubt, I demonstrated the opposite quite successfully. I needed to bind her to me, to win her over. She had to believe that the great Emperor Geta had fallen under her spell. And when she forgets herself in love, I will just press on the right spot — and Macrinus's plans will be in my hands. The main thing is that Caracalla doesn't find out anything and execute my new mistress in a fit of jealousy.   I decided to appoint Quintus, a scout who previously reported directly to my father, as the general. He had no authority over the army of Acacius, but he was loyal to me. And since I was left alone in this dangerous game, it was worth giving preference to someone who was on my side. Most of the former general's men were now in Ostia, but Quintus should stay closer to the palace. The legions would wait, but I had to keep in mind that they could start a riot when they learned about the fate of their respected commander.   My thoughts returned to Caracalla. I always considered our father a clueless, stupid, led, and weak ruler. I always knew that I didn't want to be like him. His opinion had no value to me, but lately, I've been increasingly asking myself a simple question—what would my father do? Maybe he was right when he told me that I couldn't love Caracalla? Not because we are brothers, but because I am not capable of such a feeling. My father saw me as a leader, and Caracalla believed that I always thought only of myself. Was I thinking of myself when I drove away thoughts of throwing my brother off a cliff, accusing him of treason? Everything I've done in the last month, I've done for him. But according to others, I was still evil and greedy, despite my attempts to please Caracalla. Am I a hero? Or am I still the villain that Acacius rightly wanted to overthrow? If Caracalla were gone, would I agree to the Rome that my brother dreamed of?   I wasn't cut out to be a hero. Love for my brother is the only good and bright thing in me. Let it make me weak, but I wasn't going to get rid of it; I didn't want to let Macrinus destroy everything. I didn't need a world without Caracalla — I would never accept such a reality.   I called the servants. The next move is mine.   *** (author's note: from here on out, the scenes with Macrinus' daughter are written to the song "Sails" by Ambray. I recommend turning it on in the background before reading)   Alfrea was lying in my bed, and I was standing by the window, meeting the dawn. The girl should have been sent back to her chambers before my jealous brother woke up, but I was in no hurry to do so. After a turbulent night, I had to show my personal interest if I wanted the plan to work.   "Lord, are you always so thoughtful?" Alfrea asked with a hint of irony.   "You can just call me Geta," I replied without turning around. I already remembered what she looked like: a face covered in freckles, small, slightly squinted eyes, sparse eyebrows, and a sharp chin. The girl seldom put her hair up and usually wore it loose, which made her look much cheaper, but she seemed to even like it.   "Are many concubines given such liberty?" Without looking, I could tell she smiled. She smiled often.   "Only those who are especially dear to me," I muttered, looking into the distance, deciding not to specify that I had never allowed this to any lover.   "It turns out I succeeded in this," the girl stated. I heard her get out of bed.   She came up behind me, putting her hands on my shoulders. I turned around and saw her naked for the first time in the sunlight. Without clothes, Alfrea was even thinner than when she wore a tunic and toga, hiding her boyish figure. Perhaps the only thing I liked about the girl was her pleasant voice. Therefore, I involuntarily turned away from her, preferring to listen to her speech.   "This happens rarely," I chuckled, making an effort and looking into her gray, as if transparent, eyes."Be careful if you decide to go outside."   "Are your Praetorians on duty at the palace and not letting the concubines out?" This question was followed by another smile.   "Rumors spread very quickly. And girls close to emperors don't always know how to keep their mouths shut," I warned, coming closer. Now there was almost no space left between us.   "I'm not afraid of rumors. The only thing that really scares me…" she paused. I nodded.   "Your brother," Alfrea said seriously. "With his unpredictable behavior, he keeps everyone who knows him in fear… At least, that's what they say about him," the girl added hastily.   Did she voice what Macrinus wanted, or was she sincere?   "Caracalla is harmless," I replied,"as long as everything goes the way he wants it to. For example, as long as I don't bring women into the palace without his knowledge, as happened with you."   "And what follows from this?" she asked anxiously.   "Nothing good. But don't worry, this doesn't threaten you," I lied. In fact, Alfrea was in danger: Caracalla could execute her on a whim, or I could execute her if Macrinus gained too much power. But the girl had to think that she was under my protection; only in this way could I gain her trust.   "Protector Geta," she laughed. "Well, I readily believe it."   Alfrea pressed herself against me, running her thin fingers through my hair. I liked this morning more and more.