‘But you don’t have to pare her toenails or pluck her eyebrows.’
‘True, but then you don’t have to drag unpleasant priests back from Moesia and then take them to the Emperor on Capreae.’
‘Yes,’ Caenis said, giving him a worried look. ‘My mistress is very concerned about that at the moment.’
‘Why? She didn’t mention any worries yesterday evening.’
‘That’s because she’s not sure whether they have any substance.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘My love, you must swear that if she talks to you about them you’ll feign ignorance. I’m trusted by her and I wouldn’t want her to think that I’ve betrayed her trust, which I do only for my love for you, because if her suspicions are correct, you could be in danger.’
‘You don’t need me to swear, you must know that I’d never do or say anything that would in any way compromise you with Antonia.’
Caenis leant up and kissed Vespasian on the lips. ‘I know,’ she whispered softly. She laid her head back on his chest. ‘When my mistress wishes to communicate with Macro she sends Clemens and when Macro wants to relay something to her he uses another of his men, Satrius Secundus, who’s based with him in the Praetorian camp. They’re always verbal messages, for obvious reasons, but I know the content because she dictates them to me after, along with the replies, for her records. Now, Secundus’ wife, Albucilla, is a notorious slut, something that he actively encourages in the hopes of advancing his position – provided her affairs are with men, or sometimes women, of influence. My mistress found out a few days ago, from a spy that she recently managed to place in her daughter Livilla’s household, that last month Albucilla began an affair with not only Livilla but also Sejanus; when he’s in Rome the three of them share a bed.’
‘And so Antonia suspects that Secundus has encouraged this in order to gain favour with Sejanus; in which case she must be worried that he’s probably betrayed all her correspondence with Macro and therefore Macro’s involvement with her. Has Antonia told Macro of her suspicions?’
‘Yes, she sent Clemens to him as soon as she found out; Macro replied that he would stop using Secundus as his messenger. He’s also threatened Secundus and Albucilla with a very unpleasant death if he suspects that he’s been betrayed. Secundus has sworn that he hasn’t said anything to Sejanus and to show his good faith has started providing Macro with any interesting bits of pillow-talk that his wife picks up in that crowded bed. So Macro is now happy with the arrangement.’
‘Well then, what’s the problem?’
‘Yesterday Clemens saw two of Sejanus’ men at Ostia taking a great interest in your arrival; and two more watched you arrive here.’
‘Yes, I saw the last two. So Secundus may have double-crossed Macro after all?’
‘That’s the strange thing; if Secundus has betrayed Macro then surely Sejanus would have done something about him by now, but he’s done nothing. Macro is still in command of the Guard in Rome and Sejanus continues to go between Tiberius and the Senate.’
‘Perhaps he’s just waiting for the right excuse.’
Caenis kissed him and slipped out of the bed. ‘What more of an excuse does he need?’ she asked dipping her hands into a bowl of water set out on the chest and splashing her face. ‘He knows that my mistress is trying to bring him down, that’s no secret. So if he’s found out that Macro is communicating regularly with her then he would assume that he’s part of her plot and would surely want to remove him as quickly as possible.’
‘Could he know about the priest?’ he asked as Caenis rubbed herself dry with a linen towel.
‘She’s sure Sejanus doesn’t know the details of the plot or the time scale because we checked the records and Secundus never carried any message that mentioned the priest or getting him to Capreae. The most recent one he carried was just after Queen Tryphaena’s letter arrived saying that you’d be arriving soon. Secundus came with the news from Macro that Caligula was to be called to Capreae and my mistress told him to tell Macro that what they were waiting for was arriving any day now.’
‘No mention of Ostia?’ Vespasian asked, regretfully watching Caenis slip on her tunic.
‘No; yet his men were there.’
‘He probably always has men watching the docks.’
Caenis sat down on the bed and started to strap on her sandals. ‘Yes, but according to Clemens these men were very high up in Sejanus’ staff and based at Capreae, not the normal sort of people he would use for hanging around the port watching who gets off what ship. This is what’s puzzling my mistress; how did Sejanus know of your arrival in time to send two of his most trusted allies to Ostia if Secundus hasn’t betrayed her and Macro to him?’
‘It’s possible that Secundus told Sejanus Antonia’s message without mentioning that it was meant for Macro. He could have said that he got the information from one of Clemens’ men. That way he thinks that he can claim loyalty to whoever wins the struggle between Macro and Sejanus.’
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Caenis said, leaning over and kissing him. ‘But however Sejanus found out it doesn’t change the fact that his spies have seen you and Sabinus get off a ship with a prisoner and bring him here. They then would have seen Senator Pollo arrive, so it won’t be long before Sejanus knows your name. I must go, my love; I’ll mention your theory to my mistress, pretending that it’s mine, of course.’ She smiled and stroked his cheek, then lifted the amulet hanging around his neck that she had given him as a parting gift over four years ago.
‘You’ve kept it safe.’
‘It kept me safe; it saved my life.’
‘I knew it would.’
Vespasian stared at her incredulously. ‘How?’
‘I don’t know, but I knew that I should give it to you.’
He told Caenis the story of how the amulet had saved him from the Caenii tribe in Thracia and how their chief, Coronus, believed that she was the granddaughter of his enslaved sister.
When he had finished she took the amulet in her hand and gazed at it. ‘After my mother died I used to lie awake at night holding this; it used to make me feel close to her, almost a part of her. I also felt as if it connected me with a larger family in a way that I couldn’t understand but it was a comforting feeling. Now I know why. It’s a powerful thing; it saved your life and found my family.’
‘Take it back, my love,’ Vespasian said, lifting the leather thong over his head, ‘I’ve no further need for it. It’s given me life; what more can it do?’
She took it from him. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. She kissed him and then padded softly out of the room.
Antonia called for Vespasian, Sabinus and their uncle at the second hour of the day. Pallas ushered them into the lavishly furnished formal reception room where she sat on a plump divan in front of a low, pink-marble table. At a right angle to her left, a corpulent, fair-skinned Greek with oiled black hair and beard perched uncomfortably on a wooden chair. He wore a citizens’ toga over a pale-blue linen tunic. Despite the inequality of seating arrangements the Greek managed to keep an air of dignity about his posture as if it were beneath him to notice such an obvious slight.
As he crossed the mosaic floor Vespasian glanced at the curtain behind which he and his brother had hidden with Caligula four years ago and wondered if his young friend was eavesdropping there even now. Antonia caught his look and smiled. ‘I’ve had a lock put on the door to that room now, so little Gaius has to find other places hide in.’
Disconcerted by Antonia’s ability to read his thoughts, however trivial, Vespasian took the seat that Pallas proffered to Antonia’s right. Sabinus and Gaius sat opposite her.
‘Gentlemen, this is the freedman Narcissus, my son’s secretary,’ Antonia said by way of introduction.
Regardless of his lower status Narcissus made no attempt to get up but waved a stubby hand, heavy with bejewelled rings, imperiously at each of the brothers and Gaius as Antonia named them, without meeting their eye
s, as if he was welcoming them to his court. His strongly scented pomade hung heavily in the air. Vespasian and Sabinus nodded briefly in reply.
There was a brief interruption as cups of pomegranate juice were served to each of them by a couple of young, male slaves. As they left Caenis appeared with writing materials and settled at a table just behind Antonia. Pallas stood next to her.
‘Would you mind if my secretary minutes this conversation?’ Antonia asked Narcissus in a casual tone. Narcissus half closed his eyes, held out both hands and slowly shrugged his shoulders, as if graciously giving his consent in a matter of little or no importance to him, before picking up his cup and taking a delicate sip.
A flash of anger passed briefly over Antonia’s face. Vespasian was amazed by the lack of deference the Greek showed the most powerful woman in Rome. What sort of household did Claudius run if his secretary was free to act like some eastern potentate?
‘Thank you for coming at such short notice, my good Narcissus,’ Antonia said, her face now a mask of politeness.
‘My pleasure, dear lady,’ Narcissus replied in a surprisingly high voice whilst dabbing his lips with a silken handkerchief. ‘Your note suggested that you wished to consult me on a matter concerning my patron, your son, the noble Claudius. Being his loyal servant and ever mindful of his wellbeing I felt obliged to drop everything and answer your summons.’
‘I’ll come straight to the point then, as you seem to be such a busy man.’ Antonia was evidently anxious to puncture as soon as possible the Greek’s air of self-satisfied smugness. ‘These gentlemen found a letter written in code by your colleague Boter on behalf of my son and using his seal. Pallas, be so good as to read it for us.’
Vespasian watched Narcissus’ face carefully as the letter was read out. He kept his eyes closed; a couple of twitches at the corner of his mouth were the only outward signs of worry as he listened. When he opened his eyes after Pallas had finished there was an unmistakable look of panic in them as he glanced quickly around the table.
‘This has been written without my knowledge, domina,’ Narcissus asserted, his voice slightly higher than before.
‘Pallas guessed as much; he said that you were far too sensible to advise my son to take such a foolish course of action as to intrigue with Sejanus. That’s why I thought that I’d speak to you before deciding how to proceed.’
Narcissus gave Pallas a grateful look. ‘What do you intend doing with this, domina?’ he enquired.
‘What do you think I should do?’
Narcissus looked at Antonia hopefully. ‘Perhaps you could give it to me?’
‘My dear Narcissus, that wouldn’t solve the problem as there is already a copy. Since you so kindly agreed to my secretary minuting our meeting she has just written down the contents of the letter word for word. I’ll be happy to give you a copy of the minutes but, as I’m sure you’ll understand, I must keep the original for my records.’
Vespasian suppressed a smile as Antonia’s elegant trap closed around the oily Greek and his shoulders sagged.
‘Most noble lady, who else knows of this?’
‘Just the people in this room; you were fortunate that Vespasian and Sabinus brought it to me and not to Sejanus or the Emperor, both of whom would have rewarded them handsomely.’
‘Indeed, domina, I owe them a debt of gratitude which I can assure you will be repaid if ever I am able,’ Narcissus agreed with a genuine note of sincerity. ‘However, until that time what would you have me do?’
Antonia smiled, knowing that she now had the Greek in her power. ‘Now that, my dear Narcissus, is a very good question. As you are no doubt aware I am working to counter Sejanus’ power and this letter would be all I need to show Tiberius to finally convince him that Sejanus is plotting to become Emperor. However, it also implicates my son and although it doesn’t mention whether they are planning to wait for Tiberius to die naturally or to hasten the matter along by murder, Tiberius may well choose to believe the latter. In which case Claudius would either be executed and his property seized, and you would become destitute; or Claudius, along with his entire household, would be banished to some rocky island in the middle of nowhere, and you would become irrelevant.’
Narcissus swallowed hard; the options were hardly appealing. ‘Illustrious lady, you wouldn’t risk the life of your own son to destroy Sejanus, would you?’
Antonia’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t tell me what I would or wouldn’t do, freedman. To tell you the truth, I’m so angered by Claudius’ stupidity that I’m almost minded to throw him to Tiberius’ mercy, or lack of it.’
‘Please accept my humblest apologies, domina,’ Narcissus spluttered, hastily rising to his feet and bowing low.
‘Sit down and stop fawning!’ Antonia barked.
Narcissus sat back down on his uncomfortable chair as quickly as he had got up; all traces of his imperious dignity had vanished.
‘Now, listen well to what I want you to do,’ Antonia said in a calmer voice. ‘I will not show the letter to the Emperor, even though it would get me what I want at the cost of no more than a useless son. In return for this I require you to go to your patron and persuade him to come to me with the names of all the other “people of calibre” that he wrote to and what their replies were. He should do it today before I change my mind; and make sure that he understands well that if he doesn’t I will forget that he’s my son.’
‘He will be here in a couple of hours, I promise you, domina.’
‘Good. The other thing I require you to do is kill Boter; I will not have him leading Claudius on any more ill-conceived attempts to make him Emperor and it is high time that he paid for the shame that he caused my family by cuckolding him.’
‘It will be done today, domina,’ Narcissus said with a malicious grin. ‘He has endangered me and my patron, whom I work hard to protect and keep safe.’
‘Not hard enough evidently,’ Antonia observed. ‘As to your personal plans for Claudius, if you still harbour any thoughts of him becoming Emperor, forget them. I intend to make sure that my grandson Gaius succeeds Tiberius. Unlike his uncle Claudius, he is young and sensible; the people love him because he is Germanicus’ son, and he will reign for far longer than Claudius has left to live.’
‘I assure you, my noble lady, that my plans for Claudius are only to keep him alive; as to what happens in the future, that is in the hands of the gods.’
‘Wrong, it is in my hands; and if I so much as suspect that you’re trying to alter my arrangements I’ll have you chained up with your testicles stuffed into your empty eye sockets and left to starve to death.’
‘That won’t be necessary, domina,’ Narcissus said, blanching at the image.
‘I hope not. You may go.’
‘Thank you, domina,’ Narcissus said, standing and bowing. He looked over to Vespasian and Sabinus. ‘Thank you again, gentlemen, for your discretion in this matter. If there is ever a service I can render you then please don’t hesitate to ask. Senator Pollo, goodday.’
Trying to muster as much dignity as possible, he left the room with Pallas in attendance. Caenis followed them out, giving Vespasian a sweet smile as she left.
‘I thoroughly enjoyed that, domina,’ Gaius boomed once the Greek was out of earshot. ‘I don’t think that I’ve ever seen such an odious man so satisfyingly dealt with.’
‘Yes, it was enjoyable,’ Antonia agreed. ‘Well, I only hope that he has the sense to keep Claudius under control; not that he will be in any doubt about the precariousness of his position after I’ve talked to him later.’
‘What’ll you do with the names that he gives you, domina?’ Vespasian asked.
‘They’ll be my sport once I’ve got rid of Sejanus. I’ll feed them to Tiberius one by one and enjoy watching him tear them apart.’
With the interview over Antonia dismissed them and a short while later, having retrieved Artebudz and a tired-looking Magnus, they stepped out into the heat of a July morning to walk back to Ga
ius’ house on the Quirinal. Vespasian planned to spend the night there before travelling to Aquae Cutillae to see his parents and spend the time, whilst waiting for Caligula and Clemens to be transferred to Capreae, working on the estate. He was also keen to visit his grandmother Tertulla’s estate at Cosa, which, true to her word, she had left solely to him in her will, much to Sabinus’ chagrin.
‘So, dear boy, you’re planning a farming holiday,’ Gaius said, having been acquainted with Vespasian’s plans as they walked down to the Via Sacra. ‘How quaint!’
‘A mule-humping holiday more like,’ Sabinus chipped in, unable to resist any opportunity to goad his brother.
‘You could come too, Sabinus,’ Vespasian said with a grin. ‘It always helps to have someone holding the head end, and just think of all that kissing you could get whilst you’re at it.’
‘A very kind offer, brother, but I’m staying in Rome. I’ve got a lot to do if I’m to be elected as one of the quaestors for next year; there’re a lot of senators’ arses to lick. And besides, I’ll soon have something much prettier to kiss than even your most favoured mule.’
They turned left on to the Via Sacra heading towards the Forum Romanum. The crowds thickened as they drew nearer to the heart of the city but Magnus cleared a way for them whilst all the time giving Artebudz a guided tour. The mountain-dweller was in awe at the sheer scale of the buildings and the amount of people surrounding them and he gazed around with wide eyes and his mouth open unable to take in anything that Magnus was saying. His only experience of a city had been Philippopolis, which, while it was far older than Rome, was tiny by comparison.
Although Vespasian had been in Rome only briefly, four years earlier, he had become accustomed to its magnitude; he felt very comfortable compared to the ex-slave from Noricum. As they crossed the Forum Romanum with its open-air law courts and bustling street traders selling their goods to the crowds of spectators he felt very much a part of it. The awe that he had felt when he had first seen the scale of Rome from a hill on the Via Salaria, and the excitement that he had experienced as he had entered her for the first time through the Porta Collina, had relaxed into an easy habitude; he had the perception, now he was back, that this was his city. He knew that he would always consider his parents’ estate at Aquae Cutillae and Tertulla’s estate at Cosa his true homes, but they would be places that he would visit to relax; Rome would be where he would live.
Rome's Executioner (Vespasian) Page 22