Ammianous, Villainous Agent

Ammianus Dio Verus is the supervisor of Gaius’ supervisor at the Hippodrome, who pays Gaius a visit to tell him he is the agent for a powerful client needing – demanding – Gaius’ skills at directing a mob in a riot toward or away from specific targets. Ammianus is Gaius’ antagonist, and a fairly slimy, villainous person who enjoys threatening and coercing Gaius. Ammianus reminds Gaius that he is not immune from the force of patronage, where everyone must serve their patrons just as they must get their clients to serve them.

 

Throughout the story, Ammianus both rewards and punishes Gaius as required according to Gaius’ compliance and resistance to his client’s orders. Following is an excerpt from Chapter 5, Brother Zazo Recruits Jacob the Jew, when Gaius stands up to Ammianus and refuses to serve the anonymous client …

 

I didn’t get much sleep, my mind keeping me up trying to determine if I could be dangerous again – and whether it was more stupid for me to try that or to turn down Ammianus. One of his servants came not long after sunrise to tell me when and where Ammianus would meet me.

 

It was midday when I arrived for the meeting at a tattered building that looked one gust of wind away from tumbling into a pile of rotten timbers. His man Phocas was stationed outside and nodded to me to enter. Inside was a luxurious dining establishment, a secret place where imperial elites could relax in comfort. Ammianus was in a private room, wearing a masculine gold necklace that hung wide on his shoulders and across his chest. He snapped and a servant soon entered to pour wine for me. A plate of cheese, smoked meats and bread was on the table.

 

“Thank you for seeing me with such short notice,” I said.

 

He frowned a little and rolled a finger around for me to get on with it. For an instant I thought to deviate from my plan and tell him the truth – that I was happy with my new life, liked being responsible and even respected for my work, and just as importantly that though I truly had grown past the joy I used to find in the violence of the crowd, I feared that once I was pulled back into it, the addictive thrill would grip me again. But I resisted and stuck with my plan.

 

“I am flattered that you think I am the man to help your client in this endeavor of his, and I wanted to talk to you about two important things,” I said. Ammianus cast his frog-eyed glance to the ceiling impatiently. “First, it is not possible to time this kind of thing, to prepare for it as if it will fall on such and such a day, week or even month. Since Emperor Anastasius’ time, the disorders of the factions have grown more frequent, with flare ups routine in Justin’s reign and even more so now in Justinian’s. But you can’t count on it and time it.”

 

“You can, in fact, count on some part of the city being rampaged at least once every few months,” he said, plopping a slice of meat into his mouth. “And when the next riots erupt, you will be ready, and do what I say. Just as you did three years ago on your own. There is no difference, and you know this. You were prepared before, and you can be now as well.”

 

“You don’t understand the difficult details of how this works and –”

 

“– I don’t need to, that’s why I have you,” Ammianus cut in.

 

“You assume too much.”

 

“And you too little. Make your point; I have important things to do,” he said. I could tell my approach wasn’t going to work. But I continued.

 

“I’m going to be honest with you. I was, once, able to re-direct parts of a mob,” I admitted. “In truth, we were incredibly lucky. In our first effort we successfully protected a wine merchant, but we quickly learned that deflecting a mob from destruction was much harder than directing one to it. Before the next riot opportunity, I had found several clients eager for us to destroy their competitor, be it commercial, political or just someone they hated. Over the course of five days of off-and-on rioting, we successfully destroyed most of the targeted properties. But of the properties I proposed to protect as the crowd approached, we saved only half. Not very good results.”

 

Ammianus looked down at his folded hands on the table and nodded for a moment. “That’s good enough for me – and my client,” he said. “And you might be pleased to know that we are interested more in striking than defending – though if I told you to protect a beggars’ camp you would do it. Gaius Galen, I am surprised that it has taken only two days for you to come to me, purporting to be no good at what I need. Humility doesn’t come easy for you, does it?” He couldn’t help sneering at me.

 

“You are right about my humility but wrong about my involvement. I decline your offer, and will not intercede in any troubles that may inflict the city in the future.”

 

Ammianus was impassive for a long moment, then startled me by standing quickly with an angry little shove to get the table out of the way of his rising gut.

 

“Here is a gift for you,” he said, “a second chance – we don’t get them often in life. Stop this rebellion against me, stick to your task. I won’t ask you again.”

 

“You won’t even tell me who I might be working for,” I said. “Rebelling against you might just save my life – you could be leading me into treason!”

 

“Then it would be your only path to live.” A thought seemed to grab him. “You don’t think you’re capable any longer, do you Wilder? Not the fearless idiot you used to be. I see it on your face. And so will the mob, and you fear that it will devour you for your weakness.”

 

“My weakness? I miss the mob, the mayhem, the danger. Clearly, you don’t understand me,” I said, suppressing the desire to stab the cheese knife into his neck.

 

“I don’t need to. I need to please my patron, and you need to please yours – me in this instance. We know it is how the world works, how we all get what we want.”

 

This simple admission unexpectedly deflated the tension in the roles we were playing. There were no self-made men, only dreamers believed such. We all lived in webs of patronage, and I considered how he himself must be entangled.

 

“You are right, Ammianus,” and I smiled to him. “We each must choose our patrons – and in turn our clients who depend on us – carefully. I have given you my choice.”

 

He calmly nodded, saying, “It is not a wise one, my friend.”

 

Peril was in the way he said friend. And he said nothing more. He could have threatened to oust me from my Green position at the Hippodrome, or threatened to go to my father, or to have me killed. These were not necessary to say, though. He only shrugged when I waved a two fingered salute to him and turned to leave – almost bumping into Phocas, who was standing a few feet behind me with his sword drawn.