Rome's Executioner (Vespasian)
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Vespasian’s eyes lit up; he had not been expecting to be able to further his career until Antonia had won her struggle with Sejanus. But now, if she thought that it was safe for him to return to Rome and take another step up the cursus honorum he would grab the chance. He would be closer to Caenis and would not have to have his brother’s happiness shoved down his throat all the time.
‘That’s excellent news.’
‘Well, yes and no, sir.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s the least popular position.’
‘Not working for the aedile in charge of roads?’
‘No, I’m afraid not. You’re going to be one of the triumviri capitales.’
Vespasian groaned; he knew what that entailed.
‘I’m afraid so, sir,’ Magnus said sympathetically, ‘one of the three men in charge of book-burnings and executions.’
CHAPTER XV
‘MY DEAR BOY, you’re as white as your toga,’ Gaius boomed in alarm as an attractive new doorkeeper let Vespasian in through the front door of his house.
‘That’s because again today my service to Rome amounted to nothing more than cold-blooded murder,’ Vespasian replied, irritably brushing off the attentions of one of Gaius’ many new young German slave boys.
‘Aenor, bring some wine,’ Gaius ordered the young lad, who immediately scuttled off to do his master’s bidding. ‘Come and sit down, Vespasian.’
‘The irony of it all is that for the last three months I’ve been doing the dirty work for someone whom I’m meant to be helping Antonia try to destroy,’ Vespasian said, taking a seat next to the impluvium in Gaius’ spacious atrium. The fountain’s continuous tinkling helped to calm Vespasian as Gaius sat down opposite him and Aenor served them their wine.
‘So whom did Sejanus get today?’ Gaius asked once the boy had been dismissed with a hearty slap on the arse.
‘I forget his name,’ Vespasian replied, taking a long slug of wine and savouring its delicate taste with his eyes shut and shaking his head slowly. ‘He was an equestrian who had business connections in Egypt; apparently he had defrauded Sejanus’ father, Strabo, shortly before he died, whilst he was the prefect of that province.’
‘And sixteen years later Sejanus gets his family’s revenge.’
‘Exactly. On a trumped-up charge of treason. The man wasn’t even allowed the citizens’ right of decapitation. I’ve just had to watch the public executioner strangle an innocent Roman citizen. Then, to cap it all, his family weren’t allowed to take the body for burial and it’s now lying on the Gemonian Stairs for anybody to dishonour as they see fit. It’s an absolute disgrace.’
‘Calm, my dear boy, there’s nothing you can do about it at the moment. Just be thankful that Sejanus is concentrating his energies on the long list of people who’ve upset his family in the past; although not a day goes by when I don’t worry that some snotty-nosed little urban quaestor is going to appear at my door with a summons.’
‘I wouldn’t call Paetus “snotty-nosed”.’
‘Well, he’s younger than me. Anyway, what was the actual charge?’
‘That he’d entered Egypt without the Emperor’s permission with the express purpose of defrauding the Emperor’s personal representative in that province.’
‘Very neat. Had he obtained permission?’
‘He swore in court that he had and then the prosecution brought out the list, supplied by guess who, of every equestrian who had applied for permission to visit Egypt in the last twenty years and, would you believe it, his name turned up missing.’
‘And that was that?’
‘Yes, Uncle, that was that. I had to take him away for immediate execution, no right of appeal, and all his property was forfeited to be split between the crony of Sejanus who’d accused him and the emperor, leaving his family destitute.’
‘Try to remember his name, will you, because when the situation changes here it may be possible to redress some of Sejanus’ wrongs.’
‘How? Sejanus has evidently removed his name from the list.’
‘Ah, but that isn’t the only list, there’s a duplicate in Alexandria – there has to be otherwise the prefect wouldn’t know whom to allow in. When Sejanus is no more I’ll ask Antonia to write to her friend the alabarch to see—’
‘Alabarch?’ Vespasian interrupted. ‘That’s the second time that I’ve heard that word recently. What is an alabarch?’
‘The alabarch of Alexandria is the secular leader of the Jews of that city. He’s used by the Emperor to collect taxes, like import duties and such, from the Jewish population. They resent paying them to Rome but don’t seem to mind paying them to a fellow Jew, even though the money ends up in the same place.’
‘What’s Antonia’s relationship with him?’
‘Not surprisingly she has a massive amount of land in Egypt. The alabarch looks after her interests there and has done since before he was appointed. He’s the first alabarch to be a Roman citizen; his grandfather was granted citizenship by Caesar.’
‘Gaius Julius Alexander,’ Vespasian said slowly, dragging the name from his memory.
‘You know him then?’
‘No, but Sabinus and I need to find him,’ Vespasian replied. He then told his uncle about Ataphanes’ last request and the box that lay buried for safekeeping on his estate at Cosa.
‘Well, it sounds to me as if one of you boys is going to have to get permission to visit Egypt and take that box to the alabarch.’
‘Do you think that Antonia would be able to use her influence with the Emperor and write to him in order to get us that permission?’
‘I’m sure that when her mind is free to worry about more mundane things she would be only too pleased to write to him. Talking of letters, I had one from my sister this afternoon. It seems that your father is moving into banking; he’s bought Pomponius’ banking concession in the lands of the Helvetii off him at a decent price.’
Vespasian raised his eyebrows at the news. ‘So it sounds like he means to stay up there then. A Helvetian banker! Who’d have thought that he’d end up doing that?’
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the front door. The attractive new doorkeeper jumped up off his stool and peered through the viewing slot. A moment later he pulled the door open and in walked Pallas.
‘Good afternoon, masters,’ he said, bowing deferentially. He handed his cloak to Aenor who had padded across the room to be of service.
‘And greetings to you, Pallas.’ Gaius did not get up. However much he liked and respected Antonia’s steward, he was still a slave. ‘What brings you here?’
‘Two things, master: firstly the timing is finally right to take all the evidence that my mistress has collected to the Emperor. Messages have been sent to Sabinus and Corbulo to come to the Lady Antonia’s house immediately; she requests Vespasian to join them. Magnus is already there as she seems to like to keep him handy at the moment.’ He dipped his hand into a leather documents satchel slung around his neck, pulled out a thick scroll and handed it to Gaius. ‘My mistress sent this for your safe-keeping, senator. It’s a copy of the letter that she has written Tiberius detailing the conspiracy of Sejanus. She requests that should we be unsuccessful in our mission, and she herself is compromised, that you read it aloud in the Senate, even if it costs you your life.’
Gaius swallowed hard. ‘It will be an honour to serve the good lady in such an important way,’ he said, taking the scroll and then adding quickly, ‘should it become necessary.’
‘Master Vespasian, we should go at once. My mistress has made a quiet arrangement with one of your two colleagues to perform your duties whilst you are away; your absence won’t be noted.’
‘Thank you, Pallas,’ Vespasian replied, getting to his feet. ‘I’ll just lose my toga and get into some travel clothes. I won’t be long.’
‘But be sure to pack your toga, dear boy,’ Gaius called after him.
‘Whatever for, Uncle?’
‘He still looks like a pompous arsehole to me,’ Magnus commented to Vespasian as Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo, wearing his senatorial toga, entered Antonia’s formal reception room. It was early evening and the house slaves had just finished lighting a myriad of lamps around the ornate and elegantly furnished high-ceilinged room.
‘And I expect that you still look like an uncouth, illiterate oik to him,’ Vespasian replied out of the corner of his mouth, whilst smiling at the approaching Corbulo.
‘That’s because he’s a pompous arsehole.’
‘Vespasian, how good to see you,’ Corbulo said, grasping Vespasian’s forearm. ‘You’ve been back from Thracia for the last eight months, I hear – why haven’t you come to visit me?’
‘Good to see you too, Corbulo.’ Vespasian was surprised to find that he genuinely meant it. ‘I’m sorry but I’ve been kept very busy.’
‘Yes, I heard. Sejanus is keeping the triumviri capitales hard at work at the moment.’
‘I’m afraid so, but luckily he’s not a literary type so we haven’t had to burn any books.’
‘Quite so, quite so,’ Corbulo agreed vaguely; humour was generally wasted on him. He turned to Magnus and looked down his long nose at him. Despite the dangers that they had shared, Corbulo could not overcome the innate prejudices of his class and found it offensive that he should have to acknowledge someone so far beneath him. ‘Magnus,’ he said with a frown, as if only just being able to recall the name.
‘Corbulo?’ Magnus queried, staring back at him with nonchalant insubordination.
Sabinus’ arrival brought their warm words of greeting to an end. The fact that his brother lived the closest to Antonia, in a newly rented house on the Aventine, but arrived last, led Vespasian to believe that he had been taking a long farewell of his wife. He suppressed a jealous pang at his brother’s freedom and thought instead of Caenis and the likelihood of his seeing her that afternoon. Since he had been back in Rome Antonia had not summoned him and so, consequently, he had not seen Caenis. Neither had he been able to find out anything about Caligula’s plan; Pallas had, of course, been a model of discretion on the walk from Gaius’ house.
As he watched Sabinus’ almost sycophantic greeting of Corbulo he was rewarded with the sight of his lover entering the room behind her mistress and Pallas. His heart jumped and he returned her radiant smile with equal measure.
‘Sit down please, gentlemen,’ Antonia said, seating herself on a well-upholstered couch and placing a scroll beside her. She arranged her crimson palla so that it fell gracefully from her head into neat folds on her lap. Caenis sat at a table behind her and arranged her writing things ready to take the minutes.
‘We’re still missing one person but I’ll begin anyway as I don’t want him to hear the first part of what I have to say.
‘Over the last few months my grandson, Gaius, has managed to ingratiate himself with the Emperor on Capreae; he is now very much in his favour. This has been greatly helped recently by Sejanus staying in Rome. He has been in the city constantly since becoming Consul jointly with Tiberius. With Sejanus away from Capreae, Gaius has had the opportunity to get closer to Tiberius to the extent that he is now, Gaius leads me to believe, thinking of making him his heir. Sejanus knows very little of this as he is busy in Rome.
‘This started me thinking. When Tiberius first announced that Sejanus would be his consular colleague, my first reaction was to think that he was just piling more undeserved glory upon him. However, I then thought about the timing. Tiberius didn’t need to be Consul again this year, he could have made someone else Sejanus’ colleague, leaving Sejanus free to come and go from Capreae as much as he liked whilst leaving his colleague always in Rome so that the business of government could carry on. But no, Tiberius, who hasn’t been seen in Rome for five years, decides to be Sejanus’ colleague, thus ensuring his absence from Capreae for the year. So, two months after Gaius arrives Tiberius effectively sends Sejanus away, with the double honour of a consulship and being the colleague of the Emperor himself to sweeten or perhaps disguise the fact. Now, why would he do that?’
Vespasian saw the logic of Antonia’s argument and joined in her audience’s mutterings of admiration about her mastery of the subtleties of imperial politics.
‘Being unable to see into the mind of my brother-in-law,’ she continued, ‘I can only make an educated guess: Tiberius does want a member of his family to succeed him but has started to run out of options. I learnt recently that my eldest grandson, Nero Germanicus, has died of starvation in prison and that Drusus is unlikely to be released and will probably suffer the same fate. Tiberius Gemellus, the grandson shared by Tiberius and me, is too young and Claudius is too stupid, or so Tiberius still believes. That leaves Gaius as the obvious candidate. However, Tiberius has belatedly come to suspect that Sejanus has got his eyes on the Purple and has finally come to see him as a threat but is unsure how to counter him. If he tries to remove him quickly he risks a coup; he’s now well aware that he is guarded by men as loyal to Sejanus as to himself, if not more so. So whilst he contemplates his problem he has put as much distance between himself and Sejanus as possible but without upsetting him because he’s given him the highest honour: a joint consulship with the Emperor. Very elegant, I would say.’
There was a general murmur of agreement, as much for Antonia’s reasoning as for Tiberius’ handling of the problem.
‘If I am right, then I believe that Tiberius will be very susceptible to what I have for him. With solid proof that Sejanus is conspiring against him he will be forced to act, and with the knowledge that elements within the Guard are loyal to Macro, he’ll feel free to act.
‘So, now that I’ve put a stop to my son Claudius’ ridiculous intriguing with Sejanus and decided not to sacrifice him, what is the solid proof?’ Antonia paused and looked around the gathering.
Vespasian enjoyed this insight into high politics by someone he knew to be a master of the art, in fact, almost as much as he enjoyed the stolen glances he shared with Caenis. ‘The priest?’ he ventured.
‘Perhaps – but he had been fed the story that Asinius was behind the financing of the Thracian revolt.’
‘Surely under torture he would be able to describe Sejanus’ freedman Hasdro well enough for Tiberius to believe that Asinius had nothing to do with it and it was, in all likelihood, a scheme of Sejanus’.’
‘That is not conclusive; I asked for Rhoteces to be brought here when I was still compiling a range of evidence that, seen altogether, would be compelling. However, seeing as we have him in our possession it would still be worthwhile to take him to Capreae in the unlikely event Tiberius wants confirmation of Sejanus’ strategy of destabilisation in the provinces in order to draw attention away from his plotting in Rome.’ She picked up the scroll beside her and held it up for all to see. ‘The content of this letter, which I will entrust to Pallas to deliver to him, will convince him of Sejanus’ real and unimagined treachery. In it is a detailed description of Sejanus’ plans as supplied to me by Satrius Secundus. He had not been quite as honest with you gentlemen as he’d led you to believe. Although he was trying to keep in both Macro’s and Sejanus’ favour, he was, from his own admission, doing a little more for Sejanus than he was for Macro, short of betraying him completely.
‘One of the services he had recently been performing for Sejanus was administering small amounts of poison, not enough to kill but enough to make the victim seem ill and frail, to my grandson Tiberius Gemellus, the son of my vicious daughter, Livilla, and Tiberius’ late son, Drusus. Now that I’ve blocked his route to power through Claudius, Sejanus’ new plan is to murder Tiberius, make the under-age and sickly Gemellus Emperor and act as his regent; he would then marry Gemellus’ mother, Livilla, before finally upping the dose to a fatal level. The sickly Gemellus w
ould die, to no one’s great surprise, and Sejanus would claim the Purple as the stepfather of the deceased Emperor.
‘What would follow would be a bloodbath in which most of my family would be murdered. How do I know this?’
She paused again for effect. ‘Enclosed in this letter is a list, procured, with a little coercing, by Secundus’ wife, Albucilla. It comes from Livilla’s study and is written in Sejanus’ own hand; it contains the names of the sixteen people who would die. At the top of the list is Tiberius; I am next. Noticeably missing from the list is my daughter, Livilla, which, along with the place from which the list was taken, leads me to conclude that she is fully aware of the whole plot and, in order to become Sejanus’ Empress, has sanctioned the murder of not only most of her family, including her mother, but also of her own child.’
Antonia paused again; there was a stunned silence in the room. Vespasian found it hard enough to believe that anyone could kill a member of their own family, but knew enough of imperial politics to realise that it was becoming commonplace; but to kill your own child to secure your position was unfathomable. What could possibly justify a system of succession in a civilised state that involved infanticide? His thoughts on the subject were interrupted by the clatter of hobnailed sandals walking quickly down the corridor. Vespasian looked towards the door; in walked a huge bull of a man. Vespasian started; he recognised him immediately.
‘Ah,’ Antonia said, ‘Tribune Macro, I’m so pleased that you could make it; I hope that you weren’t followed.’
‘Briefly, but it was dealt with,’ Macro said brusquely, sitting down without waiting to be asked. As he adjusted his toga his eyes flicked around the assembled company and Vespasian detected a hint of recognition as they rested on him and then moved on to Magnus.
‘You know Titus Flavius Sabinus, tribune,’ Antonia affirmed, gesturing to Sabinus. ‘This is his brother Titus Flavius Vespasianus.’
Macro gave a mirthless half-smile and nodded, whilst peering at Vespasian with dead eyes.