Vespasian stared at the key; with a shock he realised that giving it to Pallas was an admission by Antonia that she could not trust her maternal instincts not to overrule her sense of duty. ‘She doesn’t want to do this, does she?’
‘Of course not, would you?’
‘And there is no other way?’
‘Not unless she took the knife to her daughter’s throat. But she couldn’t do that — who could? So she must bear her daughter’s screams as she slowly dies. She will see it as her punishment for infanticide, but she is willing to take that punishment in order to fulfil her obligation to Rome.’
Vespasian looked back towards the screaming. ‘Yes, I think I can see that… and I must applaud her for it. She’s paying a high price indeed, but a necessary one, I suppose, to fulfil her duty.’
Pallas shrugged. ‘She has the strength and, in the end, it’s no more than she can afford.’
‘For that I suppose she must be grateful.’ Vespasian looked back at Caenis and sighed. ‘Now I should find the strength to go and do my duty.’
Caenis reached up and stroked his cheek. ‘You’ll find the strength to do it, my love; one way or another.’ She smiled.
He stood back and gazed at her. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep within her and cleanse himself of the cares and horrors of the day, but he knew that it was not yet over. ‘Pallas,’ he said quietly, ‘would you be so good as to have Caenis escorted to my uncle’s house — I don’t think your mistress will have any use for her services over the next few days.’
‘I shall see to it personally, master.’
‘I’ll see you later, my love,’ Vespasian said, raising her chin and kissing her gently on the mouth.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To the Senate House to do what my uncle thinks may be a very unpleasant duty. I don’t know what it is but it will seem as nothing compared to what Antonia is doing.’
He kissed her once more with passion and then, with Livilla’s screams still resounding in his ears and the image of his benefactress sitting, waiting placidly for her daughter’s death in his mind, he walked away, steeled by Antonia’s unselfish resolve.
The Senate was in uproar as Vespasian looked through the open doors. Standing in front of the two Consuls at the far end, and flanked by rows of baying senators sitting on their folding stools on the stepped levels that ran down either side of the house, were two children: a boy of about fourteen and a small girl of no more than seven.
‘And I ask you, Conscript Fathers,’ Consul Trio was bellowing at the top of his voice, ‘how can we be seen to pass such a sentence on two children, so obviously innocent of any crime.’
He sat back on his curule chair and Aulus Plautius rose to his feet from within the disorderly ranks of senators.
‘Conscript Fathers, I would have your attention,’ he shouted and then paused whilst the furore died down. ‘Innocent of crimes they may be,’ he said, looking down his nose at the two frightened children, ‘but innocent of name they are not. When we voted for Sejanus’ death we also voted for damnatio memoriae, wiping his name from history as if he had never existed. What is the Senate, Conscript Fathers, if it refuses to act on its own will? It is our will that the name of Sejanus be eradicated and they’ — he pointed a damning finger at the two children — ‘they carry his name. So do your duty and condemn them.’ He sat down with a dramatic flurry of his toga to absolute silence as the senators tried to mentally refute the logic of his argument. None could.
After a brief pause it became obvious that no one else wished to speak. Regulus got slowly to his feet.
‘The motion before the house is: that the children of Sejanus, Capito and Junilla, be executed in the same manner as their father in accordance with the previous decree of damnatio memoriae. The house will divide.’
Vespasian’s heart sank as the vast majority of senators passed to the right of Regulus.
‘So be it,’ Regulus said wearily. ‘I declare the motion carried. Summon a triumvir capitalis.’
Vespasian walked with leaden feet into the House and stopped just behind the two children.
‘You heard the sentence?’ Regulus asked him.
‘Yes, Consul.’
‘Then do your duty.’
Vespasian steeled himself. Rome, it seemed, was asking much from everyone today. He put a hand on the shoulder of each child; the boy looked up at him with cold, dead eyes and brushed the hand away.
‘Where are we going, Capito?’ Junilla asked her brother.
‘To Father,’ Capito replied, taking her hand.
‘But he’s dead.’
Capito nodded.
‘What does execution mean?’
Capito squeezed her hand and led her calmly, with his head held high, towards the open doors.
Vespasian followed. The senate was silent as they passed.
As they descended the steps into the Forum Gaius caught up with Vespasian.
‘I’m sorry that it has to be you, dear boy,’ he mumbled.
‘Why did Aulus Plautius do that? Hasn’t it gone far enough already?’
‘It wasn’t Plautius, I afraid.’
‘Then who proposed the motion, Uncle?’
‘I did.’
‘You? Why?’
‘On Antonia’s orders,’ Gaius replied, obviously distressed. ‘She had the children seized in vengeance for Apicata writing to Tiberius; she knew that Livilla would have to die, Tiberius expected no less, and although she hated her she couldn’t in honour let it pass without retribution. So she demanded that I asked the Senate for Apicata’s children’s deaths. I tried to refuse her but she threatened me.’
‘What with?’ Vespasian asked wondering what Antonia could have on Gaius that would make him do such a thing.
Gaius looked his nephew straight in the eye. ‘My life,’ he said simply and walked away.
He slowly shook his head as he watched his uncle go, wondering whether Antonia really would have taken Gaius’ life if he had not done her bidding. Then he remembered her sitting resolutely waiting for her daughter to die. He knew the answer and he understood why: what was Gaius’ life to her compared to what she was forced to do for honour and duty?
Vespasian turned and followed the two children as they walked hand in hand, escorted by the Urban Cohort centurion and his men, the short distance across the Forum towards their deaths in the Tullianum.
As he walked he again remembered his grandmother sipping her wine from her treasured cup and saying: ‘I advise you to keep out of politics that you don’t understand, and to keep away from the powerful, because in general they only have one goal and that is more power. They tend to use people of our class as dispensable tools.’ He had seen the reality of that warning: Gaius was as dispensable as he, Vespasian, could one day be.
The centurion rapped on the Tullianum door; Spurius opened it after a brief pause.
‘Well, well, what do we have here?’ he drawled, surveying Capito and Junilla and licking his lips.
‘You will do your duty with dignity and remain silent, Spurius,’ Vespasian hissed, ‘or by all the gods I will see to it that you will be the next victim of this purge.’
Spurius looked at him, taken aback by the venom in his voice, and seeing the steel will in Vespasian’s eyes slowly nodded his acquiescence. He stepped back from the door and allowed Capito to lead his young sister in.
‘What place is this?’ she asked her brother, looking around the chill, shadow-ridden room.
‘This is the place where it ends, Junilla,’ Capito replied softly. ‘Be brave.’
‘Cut or twist?’ Spurius asked in Vespasian’s ear.
‘Twist,’ he replied, although the word stuck in his throat. ‘Make it swift.’
One of Spurius’ mates quickly procured two garrottes whilst Spurius made the children kneel. The nooses were placed around their necks; Junilla started to cry softly as she realised what was happening.
‘Wait,’ Spurius sai
d suddenly, ‘we can’t do this to the girl.’
‘Why not?’ Vespasian snapped. He was shaking with tension. ‘It’s the will of the Senate.’
‘She’s a… you know… ’ Spurius spluttered, trying to be discreet, ‘and we can’t… it’s against the gods.’
Vespasian closed his eyes and put his hands over his face.
‘Do the boy then,’ he ordered swiftly.
Junilla watched in frozen horror as the wooden rod was inserted in the noose behind her brother’s neck and twisted until the slack was taken out. Spurius looked back at Vespasian who nodded reluctantly.
A silent scream was written over the young girl’s face as the noose squeezed the life out of her brother and his face and body contorted in agony. She buried her face in her hands and shuddered uncontrollably.
Capito’s lifeless body fell forward with a splash into the pool of urine that surrounded it and Junilla threw herself, heaving with sobs, on to it.
‘What shall we do with her then?’ Spurius asked.
Vespasian felt weak and sick. He thought of Caenis and wanted only to lie in her arms.
He turned and walked to the door. ‘The Senate has decreed that she must die,’ he said, opening it. ‘If you can’t execute a virgin then make sure that she isn’t one.’
He walked out into the sun, slamming shut the Tullianum door, as Junilla let out a long, terrified shriek.
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Rome's executioner v-2 Page 38