Earlier that morning before the funeral procession...
Piso lingered at the entrance of his elevated domus.
His tunic hung loose, bunched at the waist, revealing the sinewed lines of his bare chest and back—marked with the wear of age and ambition.
Long strands of white hair flowed down his shoulders, stirred by the cold breath of morning wind.
He gazed out over the city of Rome—rain-soaked and shrouded in darkness.
His domus, perched atop the Palatine Hill—at the heart of Caput Mundi Roma—stood as a proud testament to his success as a general, and to his influence as the governor of Syria.
A fact he took great pride in.
From the outside, the residence appeared plain and unassuming.
Bare white walls. A wide, simple entrance.
Just like any other noble's domus.
But inside, it told a different story.
Intricate, colorful frescoes adorned the inside walls—commissioned from a well-known artist and paid for handsomely in gold.
The polished white marble floors felt smooth and cold beneath his feet.
Also paid in gold.
But it was dark and it was raining, so he couldn't appreciate the beauty of his riches inside right now.
Instead, he was looking at the view outside.
Admiring where he stands.
Above it all.
Overlooking the peasants below.
SHWAAAAA
The rain continued its relentless descent, a cold, wintry curtain draping over the city.
But he still stood there, not caring about the small goosebumps gracing his skin.
Behind him was the open roof of his domus's central courtyard—called the atrium.
The atrium served as a bridge—linking the surrounding rooms—the tablinium (reception area), triclinium (dining room), and cubiculi (multiple rooms).
At its center stood a grand fountain, the water within mingling with the falling rain.
It was surrounded by statues of orichalcum.
Reddish-gold surfaces. Reflecting the dim light.
It was an invaluable metal. Rare.
And only the wealthiest could afford it.
'One of the perks if you know how to trade.'
SHWAAAAA
His shadow seemed to move with the flickering of the lucerna—the small oil lamp in his hand.
The only sounds were the patter of raindrops on the roof and the gentle "tsss!" of the flame.
It may have been an hour before dawn or more, but sleep has long since abandoned Piso.
His restless mind was consumed by the same questions that had haunted him for days like the relentless weather.
'How in Jupiter's name did Germanicus really die?'
Then, bitterly:
"I haven't even done anything yet," Piso muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the mixing sounds of rain and flame.
TSSSSSS! SHWAAAAA
"I had planned to strike, hiring assassins to kill him and his family while they traveled...," he continued to mumble to himself as if what he was saying was just something about the weather and not a plan for murder.
"...a perfect moment when Tiberius summons him back to Rome."
CRACKLE! SHWAAAAAAAA
In the shadowy corridors of the Roman Empire, Emperor Tiberius ruled with caution, suspicions, and paranoia—his eyes ever-watchful for potential threats to his throne.
Piso had known Tiberius's nature even before he became the second emperor—a man consumed by ambition and fear.
Had the former emperor not died of natural illness, he might have not chosen Tiberius as the emperor, add the fact that Germanicus wasn't there in Rome when he died.
"Well, Emperor Augustus made an arrangement though, that no matter what happens, Germanicus will be the one next in line to Tiberius.." he said in a quiet voice, then he looked around as if to see if there was anyone who may have heard it.
Tiberius made sure not to let anyone know about that fact, only the selected few when Augustus was on his deathbed.
And Piso is one of those people who knew.
TSSSSSS! SHWAAAAA
The new emperor's gaze had long been fixed on Germanicus—his own charismatic adoptive nephew and Rome's most beloved general—even before he took the throne.
He was wary about Germanicus' increasing popularity.
Especially after the triumphal procession.
Which ended with Tiberius as an unwilling wallflower.
'An unwilling wallflower, overshadowed despite being emperor...'
If Tiberius didn't send him away soon on another campaign, he feared Germanicus would grow even more influential.
A hindrance to his rule.
But there was no more campaign. And it seemed that Germanicus was ready to retire.
So instead, Tiberius ordered him to travel to the Eastern provinces, to resolve conflicts and secure the region's loyalty to Rome after his victorious campaign in Germania years ago.
But that was only superficial—a lure for the famous general.
It was a trap—designed by Tiberius. And Piso knows of it.
Germanicus, devoted to Rome and duty-bound, set out on the long journey with his family, unaware of the treacherous environment awaiting him.
'Yet, he caused controversy in Egypt, opening the imperial granary and acting as he pleased.'
A few days after that, he received another secret missive from Tiberius asking him to hasten Germanicus's death.
'He's getting old. Too impatient,' Piso thought with a smirk.
'He should be more concerned about his growing reclusive nature. Then again, if you're shamed during your own triumphal procession... well, I suppose I can understand where he's coming from.'
"Pft."
This spurred Piso to return to Rome.
SHWAAAAA
As the last remnants of twilight succumbed to the darkness, the rain-soaked streets of Rome glistened like polished stone.
TSSSSSS!
The soft, golden glow of the lucerna that he held, cast a warm, intimate light amid the dark, foreboding gloom, creating an oasis of tranquility.
And he stared at the scenery, although his mind was elsewhere.
Piso recalled Tiberius's other secret instructions: to prevent Germanicus from gaining too much influence or popularity and to eliminate him in Syria if necessary.
"But I won't do that... Acting alone? That's just asking to be the fall guy—the emperor's scapegoat.." he sneered at Tiberius. "Does he think that I'm easily duped?"
"He thought he was so clever.."
He had arrived in Rome a month earlier, intending to report to Tiberius and request that Germanicus be recalled to Rome while he was sick in Syria, and set the plan in motion.
At least in this way, if Germanicus died while Piso was in Rome, he'd be here to clear his name the moment any rumors started.
If those rumors began while he was still in Syria... it would be too late.
'It will take months before I can receive any news.'
But fate had intervened; Germanicus had already died, thwarting Piso's planned assassination.
'From an unknown illness?' he can't believe it.
'A fever, they said?' Piso's lip curled in disdain.
'How convenient.'
A death so convenient for a man like Germanicus.
He allowed himself a bitter chuckle, his thoughts turning dark.
"Pfft."
What a great way to die for someone like him.
He doesn't feel empathy for the dead general.
"That is his karma."
The seeds of rivalry had long been sown between Piso and Germanicus before he even became a governor of Syria.
Their rivalry had festered for years, fueled by old grievances and ambition.
The memory was vivid, as if it had occurred only yesterday...
TSSSSSS! CRACKLE!
They just both became general at the time.
Although Piso was a bit older.
And Germanicus had long been seen as the golden child of the imperial family.
Being born in both two prominent patrician families set him apart as a member of Rome's elite.
A true golden spoon to the bone.
Which contrasted with Piso's family.
The Calpurniis.
His family had humble plebeian origins but rose to prominence through notable figures, including consuls and governors.
And ultimately earning patrician status. 'But still not enough to gain a seat in the ten gentes families.' he thought dryly.
The difference between them was stark, like night and day, making Germanicus seem incomparable.
Still, Piso doesn't feel any resentment toward the person involved.
Germanicus was indifferent to it. So why would Piso?
And Germanicus always shows that he is competent and that he does not rely on his family's influence.
It made Piso hold Germanicus in high esteem, drawn to his exceptional character and impressed by his self-reliant qualities..
And then comes Agrippina, the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on.
She had become the object of his desire.
Yes, he was older, but he was still unmarried, and he was hard working.
He thought it was enough.
So he decided to take a shot.
Then he found out that she was set to marry Germanicus.
It broke his heart.
'Well, I married Plancina, one of Germanicus's many ex-lovers.'
He married Plancina to at least get something out of Germanicus, just one reaction even just a frown would do!
'But there is none! As if Agrippina, his wife is the only one in his eyes!'
SHWAAAAAAAA
Suddenly, the patter of raindrops on the roof and pavement intensified, growing louder and more insistent.
The rain began to drive against Piso's face, stinging his skin with icy droplets that soaked through his clothes, chilling him to the bone.
He paid it no mind.
SHWAAA
Piso channeled his emotions into his work, using the demands of serving Rome as a distraction from the pain of his unrequited love and the simmering resentment he felt towards Germanicus.
In the end, he was promoted and later appointed to become the governor of Eastern provinces in Asia.
But Germinacus saw his rise to ranks as too early, he cited his concerns about Piso's suitability for the role.
'Too early? He said it's too early for me? Me? Did his eyes start to blur? Didn't he see I'm already old?'
Germanicus also dismissed Piso's ambitions as petty and misguided, and making all his hard work feel like horseshit.
Piso has been livid. But he still did not say anything.
While the golden boy had scorned him for still taking the vast Eastern provinces and becoming its governor, Piso only watched as Germanicus's criticism only fed his now—raving ambitions.
Piso worked harder than ever. Determine to show Germanicus that he was wrong.
But Piso later realized that governing the Eastern provinces was a thankless task.
A never-ending headache of petty squabbles and border disputes!
It made him tired.
He thought that being the governor of Eastern provinces was a just reward for his back breaking work.
They say governing it would be a great honor, but now he knows better!
He was its governor for years!
And as if its by fate design—Piso saw an opportunity to finally break free from Germanicus's shackling family background.
It's an accident really.. or maybe it's a divine providence?
One night, he was drinking—he was upset about something Germanicus had said, he couldn't even remember what exactly.
But it stung.
The map was on the table.
Rolled open
His silver cup tipped. Wine everywhere.
And then—he noticed something.
One spot, perfectly dry.
He stared at it for hours.
And realized something.
Eyes widening.
He immediately spun to action.
Finding information about it.
The Silk Road! The vae Silk Road!
An important trade route connecting East Asia and the Mediterranean region.
A major channel for exchanging goods between East and West.
'Goods, gold, spices, and silk!'
The prospect of amassing wealth and power, unbothered by the burdens of governing a vast and unruly region like Eastern provinces, is intoxicating.
It will make him equal to Germanicus!
If not, more!
And the Silk Road belongs to Syria!
A smaller scope, a more manageable domain, and most importantly, control of the lucrative Silk Road.
It was a prize worth claiming.
He'll take it from the man who didn't deserve it. Who did not see its potential!
A governor in Syria was more than just a bureaucrat.
He was the gatekeeper of riches!
The link between East and West—the one who could bend the empire's vast trade routes to his will!
TSSSSSS!
The flame in the lucerna he was holding started to fade.
But he let it be, his mind too consumed with his own thoughts.
'I'm the master of my own destiny, wielding power with precision, and reaping the rewards of the Silk Road's treasures!'
Piso had fought for Syria tooth and nail.
And in the end, Syria became his, even though Germanicus objected again, and criticized him again for taking it.
It made Piso's pride take another hit, making him really furious with Germanicus who had everything down to a golden platter from birth!
Fed up to Germanicus' interference, he learned to talk back.
And that was the start of the animosity between them.
From then on, Piso will always give snide remarks to Germanicus.
And Germanicus would always counter smartly, making him lose face in the end.
Yes, his criticism still stung, but it only served as a spark to his grudge that had festered deep within
'Well, maybe deep inside he found out what I'm really after,' he thought.
'That's why he was like that to me. So was he a clairvoyant that did not see his own death?'
"Pft!"
Maybe to Germanicus, Piso's unconscious hunger for power had been obvious.
And he saw Piso's future of growing influence in Syria as a threat to Rome's stability and, perhaps more personally, to his legacy.
'Well, he was right about that. I won't let him sit on the throne if I can't help it.'
'Yes,' Piso's heart started to throb. 'The future throne.'
And to do that—for Piso's own future to be secured—Germanicus' path must be obstructed.
'He doesnt fit in the throne.'
Germanicus' view is more aligned with the needs of the empire.
'Too soft. And too honest.'
Too consumed with his own righteousness and the empire's so-called ideals to ever see the bigger picture.
'If you are the emperor, then you are the most powerful, the richest!'
Piso, however, saw it as his rightful place.
The fruit of all his labor.
And, perhaps, that was the moment when Piso truly realized the depth of his ambition.
It was no longer just about proving himself worthy to Rome! To Germanicus!
'What a fool Germanicus was.' he mused bitterly.
"And that's why I'm going to seize it from you."
He never knew how to play the game the way it was meant to be played.
'How unsophisticated,' he thought. 'Unbefitting of his status.'
Piso can already imagine himself as the Emperor of this Empire.
A small smile peeked at his lips.
And when Germanicus made his departure to Germania, Piso's resolve solidified.
'It's time to remove him.'
Because the prospect of Germanicus coming back as a hero will be Piso's greatest obstacle if he wants to claim the throne.
It was no longer about amassing wealth as a governor in Syria—it was about shaping the future of Rome, about ensuring that He, and not Germanicus, would be the one to rise.
Now, with Tiberius's blessing, Piso had seen an opportunity to ascend even further—by removing Germanicus altogether.
But it doesn't matter now...
He grips his dying lamp tighter, watching the wick blacken, symbolizing Germanicus' fate.
TSSSSSS!
The sun has already risen.
Today, the ashes of Germanicus would return to Rome, and he wondered if he should attend the funeral.
It has been months since he left Syria, Germanicus was still alive then, albeit already sick.
He involuntarily touched his jaw that was now already healed. He can still feel Germanicus fist on it. Making him clench it.
CLANK CLANK CLANG
His thoughts were disrupted by the slaves starting their early routine—the banging and clanging of pots indicated they were already cooking.
The rain still poured heavily, as if trying to prevent people from attending Germanicus's funeral.
'It might even cause delays,' Piso thought. His mind then wandered to Agrippina.
Piso couldn't suppress the smirk that tugged at his lips.
'Well, she's free now,' he thought, allowing a hint of lust to creep into his mind.
She was still beautiful, still alluring.
Unlike his wife, Plancina, who had long ceased to captivate him.
'Maybe this is the moment I take my shot with her.'
SPLORCH-SPLORCH-SPLORCH
As he turned his back, he heard the sound of horses sprinting nearby.
His eyes narrowed as the sound of approaching horses grew nearer.
He's not sure if it was just a passerby.
It wasn't just one or two horses; there were many.
The thunderous galloping was unmistakable despite the rain, a sure sign that something urgent was happening.
FWIP
Piso's curiosity was piqued, he wondered what was happening. Returning to where he was standing before.
The cantering grew louder and louder.
Were they coming for him?
Just then, a line of praetorian guards riding their horses appeared in his vision, looking like they were being chased.
Piso's thoughts turned to the emperor.
He waited, and soon a drenched praetorian guard, clad in armor, arrived at his footsteps.
He did not even pause. He just went straight to Piso.
And Piso recognized him—Sejanus—Tiberius's most trusted man.
'Tch.'
'I don't like him.' he thought as his eyes trailed the mud trail Sejanus made.
The other guards followed suit, their heavy boots leaving muddy imprints on his precious floors.
Piso wasn't sure what to make of Sejanus. The man was a snake, coiled in the halls of power, watching, waiting.
He can sense it. He is ambitious. Like Piso.
'But that's all the similarity between us.' he looked down on Sejanus.
'A plebeian daring to dream of power?' he scoffed inwardly.
"What is it?" Piso asked Sejanus.
Standing face-to-face with him and the surrounding praetorian guards.
His domus was now surrounded. Sejanus stared at him, his expression unreadable.
Piso's anger grew.
"What do you want?" he yelled.
Slaves and even Plancina emerged from their cubiculum, drawn by the commotion.
Sejanus finally spoke, "Decree of the Senate concerning the Elder Gnaeus Calpurnius Piso."
Piso's eyes narrowed. His heart was thundering.
"You are to be imprisoned for suspicions of colluding and poisoning Nero Claudius Drusus also known as Germanicus Julius Caesar!"
The words are loud and clear.
"Guards! Seize the criminal!" Sejanus ordered.
The praetorian guards closed in. Their eyes were cold, laced with a palpable disgust.
As if they are looking at someone unworthy.
With a swift motion, the guards shackled Piso's wrists and ankles, rendering him immobile.
CLICK CLICK
They have easily captured him.
His face twisted in a snarl, he tried to break free from the cold shackles but it was futile.
THUD
They made him kneel down on the cold wet muddy floor.
A sharp, involuntary gasp escaped Plancina's lips.
Germanicus was dead. And he was alive. The power, the prestige, the future—it was all his for the taking...
'But what???'
!!!!!!
'What is happening?'
Piso's face turned ashen, his eyes wide with terror.
"What? What are you doing?" he stammered, his voice shaking.
"No! I didn't... I couldn't..." he struggled against his restraints, his voice rising to a frantic crescendo.
"Call the emperor! Now!"
**
INDEX:
Caput Mundi Roma - Rome capital of the world