In spite of all the beauty around him, the peaceful and almost bucolic life of Salonae held no lure to an active and ambitious man like Constantine, who saw himself banished there for the life span of the old Emperor. Diocletian, paradoxically, seemed to grow younger every day as he puttered about among his gardens. Nor did the fact that Fausta was much nearer to him now at her father’s palace outside Milan improve Constantine’s feelings about the present. With no future, it seemed, except as a military nursemaid, he could hardly hope for a better reception at the hands of Maximian than had been given him in Rome. And he knew Galerius would
never approve a marriage uniting any closer the Praetorian Guard of Rome for centuries emperormakers themselves commanded by Maxentius, with the powerful armies controlled by Constantius as Augustus of the West.
Then suddenly Constantine’s whole situation changed abruptly with the arrival of an Imperial Courier bearing an official order, returning both him and Dacius to Nicomedia for reassignment with the legions. It was signed by Caius Flavius Valerius Licinianus Licinius, General of the Armies.
“You’ve been pining for a change,” Dacius told Constantine. “Now you shall have it.”
“Unless Diocletian refuses to let me go.”
“You and I are needed around here about as much as a worm in one of his cabbages, but Galerius should be happy to have you buried here.”
Nicomedia has suddenly realized
“Unless someone in Nicomedia has suddenly realized how much closer I am to my father here at Salonae than I was in Nicomedia.” “It took them long enough to see it, but I suspect that’s why they suddenly decided to move us eastward. Anyway I’m glad to see Licinius coming up in the world. He’s a good man; knows how to obey orders and keep his mouth shut.”
“Which should make him valuable to Galerius.”
Dacius shrugged. “Severus is Caesar now for the same reason. And if perchance Daia gets drunk enough one night to fall off a pier at Caesarea or Alexandria, Licinius could become Caesar.” “Are you saying I’ll get no help from him?”
“Or from Severus. But you can at least be sure neither of them will strike a dagger into your back some dark night, which is more than I can say for Galerius. When are you going to tell Diocletian?” “Tonight, at dinner. After all, Galerius is his soninlaw and if he insists that we stay here, even the Augustus of the East will hardly refuse.”
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