‘W-w-what’s your name, citizen?’
‘Sextus Niger, Princeps.’
‘So, Niger, you allege that you buggered Decimus Valerius Asiaticus in return for favours.’
‘He forced me to, Princeps; I would never do—’
‘Never mind your p-p-personal habits, man; is that what you allege?’
Niger closed his eyes. ‘Yes, Princeps.’
‘Then describe him.’
‘He’s bald, Princeps.’
‘B-b-b-bald? Is that all?’
Niger looked in panic at Suillius.
‘Look at me, N-N-Niger; is that all that you can remember about the man you buggered: he was bald?’
‘It was dark, Princeps.’
Crispinus stifled a guffaw and Claudius shot him a warning look. ‘But he was your commanding officer; you must know what he looks like.’
Niger was momentarily flummoxed. ‘I had just transferred in, Princeps.’
‘If you’re lying, N-N-Niger, I’ll have you stripped of your citizenship and given a starring role in the games this afternoon. Now identify h-h-him.’
Terrified, the man turned and looked around the room to see three men who could be described as bald: two sitting together opposite the Emperor, and a third sitting with two other men. Without a pause he made his choice, knowing that hesitation would be an admission of dishonesty. ‘It’s him.’
Claudius roared with laughter as he looked at Callistus gazing back at the false witness’s finger. Vespasian was sure he detected both Narcissus and Pallas trying to cover amusement under their neutral masks.
Asiaticus joined in with his Emperor’s mirth, looking across at a deflated Suillius. ‘The irony is, Suillius, that at the time this buggery was alleged to have taken place, I wasn’t bald.’
‘Take him away,’ Claudius ordered through his laughter. ‘I look forward to seeing more of you later, Niger; a lot more.’ He took Messalina’s hand. ‘You were so right, dearest one; none of these charges will prove to be true. I think that your friend Suillius has been misled; but nevertheless we should press on so that Asiaticus can prove his innocence.’
As the hapless Niger was dragged off, screaming, Asiaticus got to his feet. ‘I am no taker, Suillius. Just ask your sons, they will confirm that I’m a man. We’ll take up the issue of how and why you got someone to lie about me to the Emperor later, once he’s thrown the rest of your charges out.’
‘He came to me,’ Suillius protested. ‘I don’t trawl the gutter for false witnesses.’
‘Don’t you? Let’s see what your next witness is like; I hope that he’s better coached. What’s he going to accuse me of? Ah yes, adultery with Poppaea Sabina, daughter of the late Gaius Poppaeus Sabinus. So tell me, Suillius, does her husband, Publius Cornelius Lentulus Scipio, a distinguished man in his own right and descended from so many great men, also accuse his wife of adultery? And, if so, does he accuse me of being her lover?’
Suillius spread his arms. ‘Does a husband always know of his wife’s …’ He trailed off as he felt Messalina’s cold stare pierce him; everyone in the room shifted uneasily, including Claudius, and Vespasian wondered just how aware of Messalina’s extramarital activities he really was.
Asiaticus seized on the moment and spoke directly to Claudius. ‘What husband cannot be aware of being cuckolded, Princeps, even if he refuses to acknowledge the signs?’
Claudius answered with a series of uncontrolled head twitches spraying saliva in an arc about him. Messalina stared at Asiaticus, her face rigid.
‘I’ll ask you again, Suillius: does Scipio accuse his wife of adultery?’
‘No.’
‘Then who does?’
‘One of his freedmen.’
‘A freedman? And did he take this accusation first to his patron, the man to whom he owes complete loyalty?’
‘He came to me first.’
Asiaticus met Messalina’s eyes and held them for a couple of heartbeats before addressing Claudius. ‘Princeps, what would you make of a freedman casting such aspersions on the character of his patron’s wife to strangers?’
‘I-i-in-int-t-t-tolerab-b-ble.’
‘And yet here we have it: a freedman going about saying such things. Imagine, Princeps, the gods forbid, should your freedmen go making such accusations in public instead of coming to you? Would that be acceptable?’
Claudius made a sound akin to a man being slowly garrotted as he tried to form his answer and Vespasian realised that Asiaticus had hit the mark: Claudius must give some credence to certain of the rumours about his wife.
Messalina sat rigid whilst Narcissus observed Asiaticus through half-closed eyes, revolving a ruby ring on his little finger; Pallas and Callistus both looked as if they had not taken a breath for a long while. A droplet of sweat dripped down Suillius’ forehead whilst Vitellius and Crispinus both gaped at Asiaticus in unconcealed horror as he stood patiently awaiting the Emperor’s protracted efforts to give his reply.
‘No!’ Claudius finally exploded, his face puce and his chin slimed with drool. ‘No one will accuse my Messalina of such a thing in public; in public she is beyond reproach.’ He jerked his shaking head towards his freedmen and continued his tirade. ‘But if one of my freedmen thought that there was the slightest stain on her character it would be his duty to bring his proof to me, the h-h-husband, and no one else; a man’s wife’s conduct is for him alone to deal with and not for public consumption! It’s the way of the ancestors!’
There was complete silence in the room apart from Claudius’ panting and snuffling as he fought to regain his composure. Messalina’s eyes, black as beads and cold as the Styx, fixed on Asiaticus as he waited patiently, seemingly unruffled by the outburst that he had goaded his Emperor into, staring at Narcissus who gazed back with the faintest of cold smiles.
‘He’s just forced Narcissus’ hand,’ Gaius whispered to the brothers. ‘If Claudius were to get proof of Messalina’s infidelity from any source other than his freedmen he would never trust them again. Asiaticus knows Messalina will ensure that he’s found guilty today and has just guaranteed his quick vengeance.’
A loud sob broke over Claudius’ laboured breathing and Vespasian looked up to see Messalina with tears running free down her cheeks.
‘My d-dearest!’ Claudius cried. ‘I wasn’t suggesting for one moment that you are anything other than a model wife.’
‘I know, my darling,’ Messalina croaked, dabbing at her face with her palla and looking at Claudius with wet, pleading eyes. ‘But it’s the injustice of a woman’s lot in society that grieves me; aspersions are cast upon our characters by jealous people, and despite our innocence some of the slander sticks. Poor Poppaea’s reputation is being sullied by a freedman and she can’t even defend herself. Promise me, my darling, that should such lies about me ever reach your ears that you will give me the chance to put your mind at rest, and once I’ve done that you will punish the scandal-monger as you will this freedman who has behaved so dishonourably.’
‘Of course I will, sweet girl; I would never b-b-believe anything b-bad of you until I have seen your eyes.’ He leant over and kissed her cheek, adding to its moistness, before turning to Suillius. ‘I have no wish to see this freedman witness of yours, other than in the arena with N-N-Niger this afternoon. That charge is thrown out. Now, what of the next, Suillius, have you been misled on this one too?’
‘No, Princeps, on my honour; and you know the witness to be of the highest integrity having entrusted the education of your son to him. This is the most serious charge: that Asiaticus was heard boasting that he was the unidentified man who took part in Caligula’s murder.’
‘T-time is running on so b-b-bring Sosibius in.’
Pallas stood. ‘Before we hear from Sosibius, Princeps, I feel obliged to make one admission.’
‘Well?’
‘It’s just that this morning I heard my dear colleague, Callistus, saying that he thinks that he has proof as to exactly who this ma
n was and that Narcissus and I have covered up the evidence. I thought that I’d mention it so that he could have the chance to enlighten us all and stop this charade.’
Vespasian’s heart leapt and he glanced at Sabinus; the colour had drained from his face.
Callistus swallowed and then got to his feet, casting a quick sidelong glance at Pallas that Vespasian assumed was one of hatred, despite his expressionless face. ‘Princeps, I’m afraid that Pallas is mistaken; I said no such thing.’
Pallas insisted. ‘But I heard you say, my dear Callistus, that you had evidence that Asiaticus was not the man and that we knew all along.’
‘I said nothing of the sort, I assure you, Princeps.’
Claudius twitched impatiently. ‘Well? D-d-did he or didn’t he, Pallas?’
Pallas bowed in apology. ‘I must insist that he did and I’m bringing it to your attention, in an open hearing, because I wouldn’t want him to come to you in private, should you find Asiaticus guilty, and cloud the issue and, at the same time, cause you to question Narcissus’ and my loyalty to you. I believe that it’s best to get this out into the open, Princeps, for all our sakes.’
‘Yes, yes; to whom did he say this?’
Pallas cleared his throat as Callistus wrung his hands aware of Messalina’s distrusting gaze. ‘To Titus Flavius Vespasianus.’
Vespasian swallowed a bile retch.
‘Vespasian? Is he back in Rome?’
‘He arrived yesterday and I have him here ready to confirm the conversation.’
‘Bring him in.’
Vespasian stood before the Emperor and Empress knowing that he had to answer Claudius’ question quickly and fluently. ‘Yes, Princeps; I spoke to Callistus this morning in the palace. I was on my way down from my family’s apartment. The Praetorians guarding Britannicus, who had spent the night there with Titus, will confirm that.’
‘Ahh, they are such good friends those two,’ Claudius said, his concentration shifting, ‘aren’t they, my dear? It was such a fine idea of your brother’s to move young T-T-Titus into the palace.’
‘Yes, dearest,’ Messalina replied without the same enthusiasm. ‘But we should listen to what Vespasian has to say. Please continue.’
‘I met him in one of the corridors …’
‘W-where were you going?’
Where had he been going? For an instant he felt panic well up and then came the moment of clarity in which he saw exactly what Pallas had done: he had defied Narcissus whilst at the same time compromising Callistus with both the Emperor and Empress and he, Vespasian, was expected to lie to condemn an innocent man, a man who had showed him hospitality only the evening before. ‘I was coming here, Princeps.’
‘What for?’
‘Because Narcissus asked me to be present to corroborate my brother’s evidence.’
‘What evidence?’
‘That Asiaticus had also boasted to him, whilst they had been in Britannia together, that he took part in Caligula’s assassination.’ He was acutely aware of Asiaticus’ eyes boring into his back as he blatantly bore false witness against a guiltless man, but he knew that he had been dragged in so deep and so quickly that there was no way of extracting himself without condemning his brother and putting his own life in danger. There was nothing he could do; it was just how Rome worked. ‘Sabinus told me of it later. Naturally I was shocked and told him that he should speak to Narcissus about it as soon as he got back to Rome; which he did and that’s why he’s here today to back up Sosibius’ evidence.’
‘So why did Callistus talk to you in the corridor?’
Vespasian did his best nervous glance in Callistus’ direction – although no acting was required as he felt the genuine emotion. ‘Callistus said that he had evidence that Asiaticus was innocent and he accused me of being in collusion with Narcissus and Pallas; he said that they knew that Asiaticus was being framed and that the culprit was actually my brother and he was testifying against Asiaticus to keep himself in the clear. It’s nonsense of course because everybody knows that at the time of the assassination Sabinus was a thousand miles away serving as legate of the Ninth Hispana; it’s a matter of record.’
‘So why did Callistus say this?’
Vespasian lowered his head. ‘I don’t know, Princeps; you’ll have to ask him.’
‘It’s all lies!’ Callistus shouted. ‘I haven’t seen this man since he was in Narcissus’ office, with his brother, helping him beg for his life two days after Caligula’s murder.’
Claudius frowned and held onto the arms of his chair to prevent his body twitching in his excitement. ‘Is this true, V-Vespasian?’
‘Yes and no, Princeps; before this morning that was the last time I saw Callistus. But it was a month after the assassination and no one was begging for their lives; your freedmen had recalled my brother from Pannonia in order that he and I should retrieve the Eagle of the Seventeenth for you, which, I’m ashamed to admit, we failed to do.’
‘Yes, Gabinius got that for me but you loyal Flavians found the Nineteenth’s Capricorn and I will always be grateful to you for that. Narcissus, what do you have to say?’
Narcissus got to his feet looking as if the whole thing was a matter of such little significance that he could not quite believe that anyone was taking the trouble to discuss it. ‘It is all exactly as Vespasian says, Princeps; I’m afraid that Callistus has just been mistaken and it would seem that Asiaticus’ guilt is beyond doubt. I also have reason to believe that Asiaticus has transferred a great deal of his wealth back to his home province in Narbonese Gaul; it would seem that he is planning on leaving Rome, although for what purpose I couldn’t say. However, I would remark that a man who evidently has so little respect for the imperial family could well be a threat back in his homeland surrounded by members of his tribe whose loyalty to Rome is, to say the least, unenthusiastic.’
Vespasian did not turn around to look at Asiaticus but he could well imagine his face and that image added to the sickness that he felt at his own actions; but then, he reflected, he had been forced into lying, although that was no balm for his conscience.
‘D-d-do you have any defence to this charge, Asiaticus?’
Asiaticus did not bother getting to his feet. ‘What can I say, Princeps, apart from denying everything and calling Vespasian a liar?’
‘But it all fits. Lucius, will you speak for him?’
As Vitellius got to his feet, Messalina let forth another stream of tears. ‘I’m sorry, beloved husband, but the proof of this dear man’s guilt has unsettled me, I must leave before I swoon.’ She rose from her chair. ‘I hope that Lucius’ eloquence in defence will persuade you to mercy, but whatever you decide I know it will be just.’ Descending from the dais she paused in front of Vitellius as he took the floor, and on the pretext of kissing him on the cheek she whispered in his ear before leaving the room with her retinue.
Vitellius cleared his throat, evidently aroused by close proximity to Messalina’s tempting mouth, and took an orator’s pose with his chin in the air. ‘Princeps, it grieves me more than I can say that you believe Asiaticus to be guilty as we all know him to be a loyal man. When he spoke to me this morning to ask if he might be allowed to choose the manner of his death I said—’
‘He d-d-did what?’
‘He asked to choose the manner of his death, Princeps.’
‘Well, that proves it beyond question! Any man asking to be able to choose the manner of his own death before he is found guilty must be guilty. I’ll waste no more time on this, I have the beast hunt to open.’ Claudius rose unsteadily to his feet. ‘Asiaticus, I will show mercy owing to our long friendship and the service you have done Rome in Britannia and elsewhere; you may take your own life and your family may inherit your property. I expect you to be dead by morning.’
Without waiting for a reaction, the Emperor lurched down the steps and then paused in front of Vespasian. ‘You and your family shall join us in the imperial box, V-V-Vespasian. N-n-naturally I
shall be taking Britannicus to the games and I’m sure that he’d love to have Titus for company and my Messalina always enjoys Flavia’s conversation. We shall see you later.’
Unable to refuse the invitation, Vespasian bowed his head. As Claudius turned and lurched out of the room, he glanced at Pallas who acknowledged him with an inclination of the head as if to say that he had played his dishonourable part well. As he made to leave he felt a hand on his shoulder; he turned to see Asiaticus looking at him with a wry smile. ‘I would have done exactly the same in your place, Vespasian; I bear you no malice. I shall spend my last evening dining with friends in the Gardens of Lucullus. I would be grateful if you would join me at my table.’
CHAPTER XV
‘OF COURSE I would love to go, Father,’ Titus affirmed, earnestly looking Vespasian directly in the eyes, ‘especially if it’s with you. I’ve seen gladiators fight but I’ve never been to a wild-beast hunt.’
Vespasian smiled at his son and ruffled his hair. ‘This will be very different from watching two armed men fight one another honourably according to rules.’
‘I know, Father; criminals get ripped apart by wild animals and then bestiarii fight the animals afterwards. Britannicus told me, he’s been to quite a few and he says that they’re good fun to watch.’
‘I wouldn’t describe them as good fun, Titus; I’d describe them as a very bloody way of re-enacting man’s struggle against beasts.’
Titus’ earnest expression changed to that of a child in deep thought, processing a new piece of information gathered from an unimpeachable source. ‘But the games are always bloody; especially when the bad people get their heads or limbs chopped off between the fights.’
Vespasian sighed and accepted that there was little he could do to shield his son from the things that he had not witnessed until he had been in his early teens. It was not that he disapproved of the blood-sports of the arena; on the contrary, he enjoyed the spectacle and the skill of gladiatorial competition, the heated excitement of a close finish in a chariot race – even though he still could not bring himself to bet on the outcome – and the sheer nerve it took for a bestiarius to face down a rampant bear or charging lion. However, he considered these to be pleasures for adults and youths, not prepubescent children. The average citizen did not take his seven-year-old boy to the gruesome spectacles in the arena but Claudius did, anxious to keep his son and heir in the public eye. And as the son and heir’s companion, Titus was therefore subject to the rather questionable parenting of his friend’s imperial father, who, it was well known, enjoyed the spilling of blood with an intensity that many considered vulgar.
Masters of Rome: VESPASIAN V (Vespasian 5) Page 28