‘It will be my pleasure, Clemens,’ Gaius replied.
Clemens took his future brother-in-law by the forearm. ‘I shall be delighted to have you for a brother, Sabinus.’ Sabinus mumbled something positive, unable to take his eyes off his future wife.
‘Domina, thank you for the evening,’ Clemens said, bowing his head to Antonia. ‘Gentlemen, I wish you all goodnight.’
With that he led his sister from the room; Pallas followed, to see them to the litter. Sabinus stood motionless, staring at the closed door. Gaius and Antonia shared a smile as Caligula and Vespasian looked at each other incredulously.
Caligula was the first to recover. ‘Jupiter’s balls, why haven’t I had—’
‘Gaius, my dear,’ Antonia cut in sharply, ruffling his hair again, ‘none of your smut.’
Caligula excused himself from the table soon after, muttering something about a headache. Judging by the speed with which he left the room Vespasian had no doubt that the ache was in another part of his anatomy and he was off to ease it with one, or maybe a few, of his grandmother’s many house slaves.
Since Clemens’ departure with his sister, the talk had been of Sabinus’ good fortune in having such a beautiful young bride. Sabinus himself was drinking deeply at each toast and had started to slur his words. Vespasian knew that he should bring up the subject of the scroll found on the dead Geta before his brother passed into oblivion brought on by a surfeit of anticipated matrimonial bliss. He had an instinct that as few people as possible should know its contents; with Caligula now otherwise engaged the time seemed right.
‘Domina,’ he said as they lowered their cups from yet another toast to the newly engaged couple, ‘there’s a matter that I think I should bring to your attention, sooner rather than later.’
‘By all means,’ Antonia replied, her voice steady, having drunk very little and then only of well-watered wine.
He turned to Pallas, who had returned to his position by the door. ‘Pallas, would you call for Magnus to bring the scroll? He’ll know what you mean.’
‘Yes, master.’ Pallas slipped out briefly to send the message and then resumed his place.
Whilst they awaited Magnus’ arrival Vespasian recounted the circumstances in which they had found the scroll and what it contained; then Sabinus, who seemed to have sobered up slightly, explained his theory as to how Claudius might be using Boter as an expendable shield.
When they had finished Antonia shook her head. ‘That sounds far too subtle for my son; he’s never been anything other than an idiot.’
Vespasian cast a sidelong glance at Pallas who, despite what he had said on the subject earlier that day, showed no sign of disagreeing with his mistress. He did think, however, that he saw the faintest flicker of interest in the steward’s eyes.
‘With respect, domina,’ Gaius said, ‘you look down on Claudius because compared with his late elder brother, the great Germanicus, he is physically such a disappointment to you; but it may be that underneath that crude exterior some of your brains and subtlety may still exist.’
Antonia scowled. ‘Brains and subtlety in that runt? Never! He’s probably just writing to Poppaeus to ask him if he can borrow some obscure books from his library and it amuses his childish sense of intrigue to have it written in code.’
‘But a code needs the recipient to have the key,’ Vespasian pointed out. ‘It would seem a bit extreme to go to all that effort just to talk about books, however obscure.’
‘Well, we’ll find out soon enough,’ Antonia said as a scratching came from the other side of the door.
Pallas let in a rather florid-looking Magnus. He had evidently been partaking rather too liberally of Antonia’s wine after his exertions earlier on that evening, Vespasian mused with a slight grin.
‘Good evening, domina, gentlemen,’ Magnus mumbled from the doorway, unable to meet anyone’s eye.
‘Thank you, Magnus,’ Antonia said. ‘Leave the scroll with Pallas. Your party will be staying here for the night; Pallas will send someone to show you to a room later. That’ll be all – for now.’
Magnus nodded wearily and left.
Antonia looked at Pallas. ‘Do you think that you could break this code?’
‘I would hope so, domina,’ Pallas replied, perusing the scroll. ‘I’m well acquainted with another of your son’s freedmen, his secretary, Narcissus, a man of far greater intelligence than this Boter; we’ve had numerous conversations about codes and ciphers and have shared ideas on how best to construct them. I’m sure that if the code was written by Boter then it would be one that he got from Narcissus. Give me a little time and I’ll be able to find the key. I need something to write with – please excuse me, I won’t be long.’ He slipped quietly out of the room.
As they waited for Pallas, making small talk, Vespasian felt a thrill of excitement as he contemplated the possibility of a whole night with Caenis. It was more than he had expected and he felt sure that Antonia had done it purposefully, even if it did appear that she had an ulterior motive; but then a woman in her position could always get what she wanted without having to worry about the happiness of the likes of him, let alone one of her slaves. She must indeed be very fond of Caenis.
A couple of cups of wine later Pallas returned brandishing a wax tablet. ‘It’s done, domina,’ he announced. ‘It’s a substitution cipher such as Caesar used, but with a rolling shift, based on the number twelve. So the first letter you shift by one, so A becomes B; then the second by two, so A becomes C; the third by three and so on up to twelve. Then you start again but this time you shift the next letter by two, the next by four, then six, eight, ten, twelve. Then you continue with the next letter shifted by three, then six, nine, twelve. Then you do fours, then sixes and then twelve itself, after which you start again with one and so on. Very simple really.’
‘Very good, Pallas.’ Antonia looked as baffled as everyone else around the table. ‘So what does it say?’
Pallas cleared his throat and began to read aloud.
‘“I send my greetings” etc., etc.; then:
‘As you are aware, my master has an agreement with your mutual friend that he will support my master as and when the time comes. However, my master now feels that once he has achieved his aim that friend will move to eliminate him and take his place through a familial right. In order to counter this, my master proposes to free himself immediately he has gained his rightful position and thereby cut the tie to the friend and therefore any legitimate rights he may have. In place of what he loses my master would take what is dearest to you, bonding himself with you, in order to still be able to expect your support, with its full force, at the appropriate time. He realises that certain arrangements would need to be made in advance and suggests that you make them sooner rather than later. He would have you know that he has made similar, though not, of course, the same arrangements with other people of your calibre and would hope that you would see the sense in joining his cause, rather than opposing it, as he would value your and your family’s support highly in the endeavour that he feels is nearing fruition. He awaits your reply.’
There was a stunned silence in the room; all the men turned towards Antonia. The expected explosion did not come; instead she just nodded her head slowly as she digested the barely veiled meaning of the letter.
‘It seems that you may be right after all, Gaius,’ she said eventually. ‘Claudius the booby isn’t quite as stupid as I thought; he’s hidden it well.’
‘That’s why he’s still here, domina,’ Gaius replied quietly, knowing all too well the fragility of Antonia’s temper when it came to discussing her two surviving children. ‘We need to work out what this means for us. I assume the mutual friend is Sejanus; so it seems that he has already got his support to succeed Tiberius.’
‘What a fool I’ve been,’ Antonia whispered, gazing into the middle distance. ‘When Tiberius suggested that Claudius marry Aelia Paetina I jumped at it, thinking that he was using Claudius to give
something to Sejanus that he had always wanted: a connection to the imperial house, without giving him anything of value because his sister was marrying someone who could not possibly aspire to anything. How wrong I was. Sejanus is going to make Claudius Emperor, then depose him and take over as his legitimate brother-in-law; he’ll then secure his position by marrying my daughter Livilla. Claudius recognises this threat and is preparing very sensible precautions: divorcing Aelia Paetina once her brother, Sejanus, has made him Emperor and she is of no more use, thereby taking away Sejanus’ claim to legitimacy. Then he’s going to marry Poppaeus’ daughter Poppaea Sabina, thus ensuring her father’s support for her new husband with his full force of the Moesian legions and all his auxiliary cohorts. She’ll have to divorce her husband, Titus Ollius, with whom she’s just had a daughter, another Poppaea Sabina; that must be the arrangement Claudius wants Poppaeus to make. Well, that’s no great hardship, he’s nobody, and Poppaeus won’t be able to resist the chance of his daughter becoming Empress. The other people of influence he’s approached must be the Governors of provinces with legions close to Rome: Pannonia, Africa and on the Rhine. He’ll try to make himself unassailable and one of his first victims will be my little Gaius. I will not let this happen.’
‘It won’t happen, domina,’ Vespasian said with some confidence, ‘because you’re ensuring that Sejanus will fall. Without Sejanus surely Claudius is impotent?’
‘Not necessarily; if he has ambitions to be Emperor, however ludicrous that may seem, then he won’t let a setback like losing an untrustworthy ally stop him. He’ll resort to another strategy, the only possible alternative in the absence of anyone willing to aid him: murder. If he really is as ruthless and cunning as that letter indicates then his obvious course of action would be to clear the way to the Purple by removing all potential rivals; and again my Gaius will be one of his victims. Claudius has to be stopped but, short of killing my own son, I can’t as yet see how.’
Pallas cleared his throat quietly in the corner.
Antonia smiled. ‘You no doubt have a suggestion, Pallas.’
‘Never, domina; but perhaps I may be permitted to make some observations?’
‘I never tire of your observations.’
‘You are most gracious, domina,’ the steward said smoothly, stepping forward into the room. ‘There’re a few things that occur to me. Firstly: the letter states that Poppaeus is aware of the arrangement between Claudius and Sejanus; therefore, at least the three of them, but probably more, must have met to discuss the deal whilst Poppaeus was recently in Rome.’
‘So who else was there?’ Gaius asked.
‘The people of “calibre”, as my mistress suggested, the other Governors or their representatives. At that meeting they would have pledged the support of their legions; you’ll notice that it says: “still be able to expect your support”.’
‘So what has he offered them to keep them on his side?’ Vespasian mused.
‘That brings me on to my second point: Claudius must assume that Poppaeus has just as much interest in his becoming Emperor as he has in Sejanus deposing him – he is close to both of them and would gain by whoever wore the Purple – otherwise he wouldn’t have made as big an offer as to make Poppaea Empress. He must believe that this will tip the balance in his favour otherwise he would not be making him party to his thwarting of Sejanus’ ambitions.’
Vespasian smiled as he saw the major flaw in the plan. ‘But he can’t offer as high an incentive to the others, so one or two of them are bound to be disappointed and may decide to throw in their lot with Sejanus, in which case Claudius’ scheme is bound to be revealed.’
‘Exactly; so Claudius seeks to counter that by a threat, which he must have made in various forms in the other letters he wrote; he gives Poppaeus a clear choice: with him or against him, no middle ground. He then, in the same sentence, goes on to mention his family; in other words: Poppaea is either Empress or dead.’
‘And if, by some chance, he was to become Emperor,’ Sabinus said slowly, ‘and he went through with that threat against Poppaeus or any of the other Governors who stood against him, they would be obliged to take revenge, for the sake of their dignitas, and—’
Antonia cut in and finished his sentence: ‘We would be plunged back into civil wars as destructive as those in my father’s time.’
‘But I don’t believe it would get that far,’ Pallas continued, ‘because, as Vespasian has pointed out, Sejanus is bound to hear of Claudius’ plan from one of the Governors who’s not been offered enough; in fact he probably already knows about it, as this letter was found four months ago and it’s reasonable to assume from the wording that the other letters were sent at the same time.’
‘And because Poppaeus never received this letter he won’t have had the opportunity to betray Claudius to Sejanus,’ Gaius said with a grin, ‘which will leave Sejanus thinking that Poppaeus is now working against him.’
‘So Sejanus must now think that his plan to gain the Purple through my son won’t work because he’ll have at least the Moesian legions against him and probably a lot more,’ Antonia concluded with genuine concern in her voice. ‘So Claudius is now a liability that needs to be got rid of. In trying to be too clever my son has set himself up to be murdered. The idiot almost deserves it but I couldn’t bear to lose another son, however stupid or badly advised.’
‘Which brings me to my final point, domina: this letter was not written by his secretary, my good acquaintance Narcissus, which, in the normal course of events it would have been; which leads me to believe that Narcissus doesn’t know about the deal with Sejanus or, if he does, has sensibly advised against it and Claudius is now going behind his back.’
‘Why would he worry about his freedman’s opinion?’ Sabinus asked. ‘Surely a freedman’s duty is to do what his patron tells him?’
‘Claudius’ household is run by his freedmen, all of whom hate each other and vie with each other for influence over their patron. Because Claudius is weak he tends to take the advice of whoever is the most forceful, which means he often finds himself vacillating between two contrary courses of action. However, as Claudius’ secretary, Narcissus has control of all his finances; Claudius is in awe of him and can do nothing without him, so he tends to keep his more scurrilous plans from him for fear of being cut off from his money.’
‘That’s outrageous!’ Antonia exploded. ‘How dare some jumped-up freed clerk hold such power over a member of my family, however stupid he may be?’
‘May I speak frankly, domina?’ Pallas asked, bowing his head and looking his most subservient.
‘If you’re going to tell me more things about my idiotic son that I’ve overlooked, I think that you had better.’
‘Yes, domina. Your son, in many ways, appears to be an idiot: he drools and stutters, he cannot organise his own affairs and is very easily influenced as he’s unable to tell the difference between good advice and bad. However, he has an over-inflated opinion of himself, is ruthlessly ambitious and harbours a deep resentment towards his family for all the slights that he believes that he has suffered at their hands. He has never held any offices or priesthoods nor is he even a member of the senate and consequently feels overlooked and undervalued and is determined to redress that. Narcissus has always tried to keep Claudius’ desire for revenge in check; he knows that his patron could never become Emperor at present because there far more suitable candidates within the imperial family.’
‘You say “at present”?’
‘Narcissus is not without his ambitions for his patron and therefore himself, domina, but if he were to find out that Claudius is making a bid for the Purple now I’m sure that he would put a stop to it – especially as it seems that the advice Claudius is following is Boter’s, who has been out of favour since that unfortunate incident a few years back.’
‘Unfortunate? Pah! He cuckolded my son and made him more of a laughing stock than he normally is and my son did nothing about it.’
‘Well, perhaps he is now; your son didn’t sign the letter, so he can deny it if Boter’s advice fails, which I think we’re all agreed that it will. He’ll make Boter the scapegoat, an eventuality that Narcissus would be very keen to see come about, leaving him free to then carry on with whatever plans he has for his patron.’
‘You mean following the strategy that I explained earlier and trying to whittle down the suitable candidates that stand in his patron’s way?’
‘I don’t think that he feels that he needs to do that, domina, as, at the moment, Sejanus seems to be doing it for him. Narcissus takes the long view; for the present his strategy is to keep his Claudius unnoticed and therefore safe.’
Antonia gave a half-smile and nodded in agreement. ‘As ever, your observations have been most enlightening, Pallas, thank you. Send this Narcissus a message; I think that we should talk to him first thing in the morning, and then afterwards I’ll deal with my son.’
CHAPTER XI
VESPASIAN WOKE THE following morning as a trail of soft kisses worked their way down his chest towards his belly. He opened his eyes; the room was still dark and a gentle breeze blew through the open window beyond which the sky heralded the coming day with a faint, pre-dawn glow. The kisses worked their way across his belly; with a sigh, Vespasian closed his eyes again and lay back in bliss.
‘That’s my master attended to,’ Caenis whispered a while later as she lay her head back on his shoulder, ‘now I have to go and attend to my mistress.’
‘I hope that she doesn’t require you to be so considerate,’ Vespasian murmured, gently kissing her soft, sweet-smelling hair.
Caenis giggled. ‘I have to do anything and everything that she asks,’ she teased, her smiling features now visible as the first rays of dawn light flooded through the window.
Vespasian felt his heart flutter and smiled down at her. ‘So do I, it seems; in a way we’re both her slaves.’
Rome's Executioner (Vespasian) Page 21
