Vespasian watched him go with that uncertain phrase echoing in his head.
Regulus had won the race to be the first Consul to arrive and he mounted the steps with all the dignity befitting his rank, followed, a few paces behind, by a sour-faced Fulcinius Trio. As they disappeared into the temple Gaius returned, having left Caenis between the first two of the Luna marble columns of the portico, just to the right of the main door.
‘I’d better be going in, my dear boy,’ he said, sounding more than a little nervous. He indicated Caenis’ position. ‘You’d best go and join her. Good luck.’
Vespasian did not need a second invitation to vacate the entrance; as his uncle turned to leave, a mighty cheer broke out from the crowd and it parted to reveal Sejanus walking, in amongst a large group of his supporters, directly towards him.
Vespasian skipped behind the column to find Caenis ready with a wax tablet and bronze stylus in hand, but looking worried.
‘Are you all right, Caenis?’
‘I can’t see the slave that I’m meant to hand the first list to,’ she replied, scanning the crowd.
‘Keep looking, I’m sure he’ll turn up,’ Vespasian assured her as Sejanus’ party mounted the steps; when they reached the top Sejanus stopped.
‘Friends,’ he said, addressing the senators around him, ‘go on in and reserve a place of honour for me; I’ll stay out here a while until everyone is in and then I shall enter last, for maximum effect.’
His supporters cheered him and then began to make their way inside.
Vespasian peered out from behind the column and caught a glimpse of Sejanus; he did not look like a man confident of high honour. His square-jawed face seemed strained and he wore a heavy frown; his hands were fidgeting. He turned suddenly, feeling that someone close by was watching him, and caught sight of Vespasian as he ducked back behind the column.
‘You there, what are you doing?’ he shouted, moving towards Vespasian’s and Caenis’ position.
‘Prefect!’ A voice called from the bottom of the steps, stopping Sejanus in his tracks.
‘Macro, thank the gods,’ Sejanus exclaimed with relief in his voice. ‘Has there been a message from the Emperor? I’ve heard nothing from him for eight days now; I don’t want to go into the meeting unless I’m absolutely sure that he is favouring me and this isn’t a trap.’
‘There has been, sir,’ Macro replied, taking the steps two by two, and taking a sealed scroll from the fold in his toga.
‘Give it to me,’ Sejanus ordered.
‘It’s for the Senate,’ Macro stated, ‘the seal is only to be broken by the senior Consul at the Emperor’s express orders.’
‘Who delivered it?’
‘I did.’
‘You’ve been with the Emperor,’ Sejanus exclaimed incredulously. ‘By whose authority?’
‘The Emperor himself summoned me to Capreae two days ago. I saw him yesterday morning and travelled back overnight using our horse-relay service.’
‘What? Why you and not me?’ Sejanus asked with low menace in his voice.
‘Because, sir,’ Macro replied calmly, ‘the Emperor felt that it would be inappropriate for you to carry this message to the Senate.’
‘Do you know the contents, Macro?’
‘I do, sir; let me be the first to congratulate you.’ Macro clapped Sejanus on the arm. ‘It’s what we have hoped for: Tiberius is asking the Senate to vote you what you deserve for the services that you’ve rendered both to him and to Rome.’
‘Tribunician power! Has he made me his heir?’
‘The Emperor said to tell you that this letter contains almost everything that you deserve.’
‘Almost everything?’
‘Almost.’
‘Then I shall be content with that for the present,’ Sejanus said with relief in his voice. ‘Come, my friend, let us enter together.’
‘I’ll only deliver the letter to the Senior Consul; then I’ll go back to the Praetorian Camp to prepare the men for your welcome.’
‘Do that, my friend,’ Sejanus said as they entered the temple, ‘you will not find me ungrateful.’
Applause burst out as they stepped through the doors.
Vespasian looked at Caenis with concern. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think that we have to wait to know for sure one—’
‘Way or another?’ he cut in, smiling at her.
‘Yes, my love,’ she said, squeezing his hand.
‘Vespasian, sir, sir!’ a familiar voice shouted from the crowd.
Vespasian looked round and saw Magnus with two of his crossroads brothers, Sextus and Marius, at the bottom of the steps. He quickly went down to them and, as one of the Vigintiviri, authorised them through the Praetorians.
‘Antonia sent us, sir,’ Magnus puffed as they went up the steps, ‘something about a message to take to her.’
‘You’re just in time,’ Vespasian said, seeing Gaius slipping out of the temple.
‘The Consuls have just taken the auspices and pronounced the day as good for the business of Rome,’ Gaius said as he approached Vespasian. ‘It’s quite an eye-opener in there; six new faces sitting with Sejanus including three ex-praetors and two ex-Consuls, Aulus Plautius and Silius Nervus. I’ll call you in when it starts to get really interesting.’
He bustled off to give the names to Caenis.
‘So why did Antonia send you?’ Vespasian asked Magnus.
‘She said that she was worried a slave would be intercepted and she thought that a bit of muscle was called for. Why, I don’t know, but she’s anxious about something – I can tell.’
‘Getting to know her moods now, you old goat?’
Magnus frowned. ‘Very funny, I’m sure,’ he said as Caenis handed him the wax tablet with the names written on it. ‘We’d best be going, sir. I’ll see you in the Forum later.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know; I just do what I’m told and that’s what Antonia told me to do: go to the Forum with all my brothers and wait for you.’
‘Well, it’s always best to obey the last order. I’ll see you there, I suppose.’
Vespasian watched Magnus and his brothers going back down the steps, with the growing feeling that he was a very small piece in a large and intricate game that he had little understanding of, and that he could just as easily be sacrificed as be used to make the winning move.
The sound of footsteps behind him made him turn; he came face to face with Macro.
‘What are you doing here?’ Macro snarled with barely concealed contempt.
‘I’m here in my capacity of triumvir capitalis, awaiting the Senate’s orders,’ Vespasian replied. He was determined not to be intimidated.
Macro laughed. ‘Pray to the gods then that it’s not your execution that you’ll be overseeing.’ He pushed past Vespasian and stood at the top of the steps, withdrew a further scroll from his toga fold and waved it in the air. ‘Men of the Praetorian Guard, you know me, I am Tribune Naevius Sutorius Macro; I have here a warrant from your Emperor.’ He unrolled the scroll with a flourish. ‘He requires you to go back to your camp where I will read a personal message from him to all the members of the Guard concerning the events of this day; I can, however, tell you that it contains a promise of a largesse to every man.’
The Guards cheered and waved the loose ends of their togas in the air. Macro signalled to someone at the back of the evergrowing mob of spectators.
‘The Senate will remain guarded,’ he continued as a group of men started to push their way forward through the crowd, ‘have no fear of that. Now follow me.’ He walked down the steps and led the century away.
As the last Praetorian left the front of the temple a new body of men took their place: the Vigiles were now guarding the Senate.
Half an hour had gone by and the sun was now well above the hills to the east, casting a soft light over the rooftops of the city. The crowd was getting restless as no news of what was happening inside the t
emple had filtered out; a few late-arriving senators had gone in but no one as yet had left and the doors remained half-closed.
Vespasian sat with Caenis on a bench in the shade of the portico; he could hear the voice of the Senior Consul, Regulus, reading aloud, but his words were indistinct. Vespasian had started to become concerned about the outcome of the letter; if Tiberius was going to damn Sejanus after praising him, as Pallas had said he would, then he was taking his time over it. He was on the verge of sharing his worries with Caenis when one of the public slaves, used by the senators to run messages, stepped out of the door and approached him with a bow.
‘The senator Gaius Pollo has requested that you attend him immediately,’ he said with a thick Gallic accent.
Vespasian’s pulse quickened as he stood up and, with a squeeze of Caenis’ shoulder, followed the slave into the temple.
It was packed with senators all sitting on their low folding stools; at the far end, below a statue of Apollo, stood Regulus reading from a scroll. As Vespasian made his way behind the rear line of senators he heard the Consul declaiming in a highpitched, clear voice:
‘. . . and furthermore, Conscript Fathers, I consider his allowing of sacrifices to be made to him in public in front of the many statues of himself that now litter the city an affront to my position as your Emperor. I have made it clear on many occasions that I do not wish to be worshipped and have only allowed very few temples to be dedicated to me, and then only to bestow a mark of favour on the municipality that requested the honour if I considered them deserving of it; yet he would have the whole Empire worship him if he could.’
The slave led him to Gaius’ place at the rear of the left-hand side.
‘It’s started to happen, dear boy, look,’ Gaius whispered, pointing to the other side of the room.
Vespasian craned his neck to see over the massed heads of the senators in front of him. Over to Regulus’ right-hand side sat Sejanus with an impassive look on his face; as he was watching, two senators near Sejanus stood up and, picking up their stools, crossed over to Gaius’ side. The others surrounding him were whispering to one another, with countenances full of confusion or fear.
‘Tell Caenis: Aulus Plautius and Sextus Vistilius at “but what of his lesser qualities”; and those two, Silius Nerva and Livius Gallus at “have the whole Empire worship him”. Go, and take the slave with you so that you can come straight back in.’
Caenis was waiting for him outside and he quickly relayed the names to her. ‘It seems to be happening, Caenis,’ he said excitedly as she finished writing. ‘His supporters have certainly lost their triumphant demeanour.’
‘If it is, then we’ve got a lot to thank Caligula for,’ she replied seriously as he turned to follow the slave back in.
‘“As to his divorcing his loyal wife Apicata five years ago…”’ As Vespasian made his way back to Gaius to receive seven more names, Regulus read:
‘. . . on the assumption that I would let him marry my beloved son Drusus’ widow, I considered that to be an arrogant move at the time, and still do. Whether it was because he genuinely desired her or whether it was because he felt that in marrying her he would further ingratiate himself with me I will leave to you, Conscript Fathers, to decide.’
Having just managed to recall all the seven names and give them to Caenis, Vespasian returned for a third time. Regulus was still holding forth:
‘. . . and through a weakness brought on by my recurring bouts of sickness, consented to the union last year. That, Conscript Fathers, was an error which I will now undo. I now formally dissolve the betrothal of Lucius Aelius Sejanus to my daughter-in-law, Livilla.’
At that point there was a mass migration away from Sejanus; the noise of stools folding and senators walking across the floor forced Regulus to pause as Vespasian once again reached Gaius.
‘Well, that makes it easy, dear boy,’ Gaius whispered to him, ‘everyone else at “formally dissolve the betrothal”. You might as well stay and watch what happens; no one will notice you in this atmosphere.’
Sejanus was left completed isolated with his head in his hands as Regulus continued reading the Emperor’s words:
‘I hope that you will agree with me, Conscript Fathers – whose opinion I have always valued – that these and the numerous other offences that he has committed, including the bearing of false witness against many of your number, cannot go unpunished. I would therefore ask you, Conscript Fathers, to vote on whether or not he should be . . .’
At this point Regulus was forced to pause again as his voice was drowned by an eruption of howls of anger directed at Sejanus from all present. Even those senators who had until very recently been sitting close by him joined in, either through fear or because they believed that if they denounced him vehemently now their earlier support of the doomed man would somehow be forgotten.
Praetors, tribunes and quaestors, including Paetus, surrounded Sejanus but he made no move to flee to appeal to the crowd outside; he just sat in thought.
The noise died down and Regulus finished: ‘“. . . whether or not he should be imprisoned.”’
There was a stunned silence. Vespasian glanced around at the senators, all as visibly shocked as himself – Macro had not lied to Sejanus, the letter did ask for almost everything that he deserved.
Regulus rolled up the scroll. ‘Conscript Fathers, I believe that we are as one in wishing to grant our Emperor’s request.’
There was a general chorus of agreement; even the Junior Consul Fulcinius Trio was nodding his head slightly as he stepped forward. ‘Seeing that you seem to be all agreed,’ he said carefully, ‘I believe that the Senior Consul need only ask one of you for your opinion because it will be the opinion of all of you.’
‘So be it,’ Regulus concurred as the suggestion met with approval. ‘Lucius Aelius Sejanus, come here and stand before me.’
Sejanus continued sitting in thought as if he had not heard.
Regulus repeated the command; still nothing.
The third time he shouted Sejanus suddenly looked up. ‘Me?’ he questioned in the tone of a man surprised to be given an order after so many years of only delivering them. ‘Are you ordering me?’
‘I, in the name of the whole house, am ordering you.’
Sejanus looked around and with a dismissive sneer went and stood before Regulus.
‘Senator Pollo,’ Regulus called out, causing Gaius to almost fall off his stool, ‘do you think that this man should be imprisoned?’
Gaius winced and then, with some trepidation, got to his feet. ‘I do think that he should be imprisoned, Consul,’ he said slowly and clearly.
‘Then that is the will of the house. Take him to the Tullianum.’
‘And just who is going to escort me there,’ Sejanus drawled, ‘through my Praetorians? Do you think that they’ll let this happen? They’ll slaughter you all first, like the sheep that you are.’
‘Graecinius Laco, are your Vigiles all in position?’ Regulus asked.
A tall man with a few days of thick black stubble on his face stepped forward from the far end of the temple. ‘They are, Consul, and Tribune Macro has taken the Guard back to their camp.’
‘What!’ Sejanus roared, jumping forward and being restrained by at least four men. ‘Macro! The filthy whore’s whelp, I’ll have him for this when the Emperor sees sense and releases me; just as I’ll have every one you, you Convict Blatherers.’
‘Take him away, Laco,’ Regulus ordered. ‘Consul Trio, you and I will now address the people together.’
Vespasian watched as Sejanus was led, head held high and shrugging off the restraining hands of his surrounding escort, from the Temple of Apollo.
Vespasian and Gaius squeezed out of the door through the crush of senators and gave the last and easy part of the list to Caenis.
‘I should get back to my mistress now, my love,’ she said as Regulus and Trio took up position at the top of the temple steps, ready to address the confused cro
wd, who had just watched the man who had held sway over them for the best part of the last decade taken away in disgrace.
‘I’ll come with you, seeing as my services don’t seem to be required here now,’ Vespasian said with genuine regret; it had been the first execution that he had been almost looking forward to.
‘I’m going to listen to Regulus and then I’ll follow you, I think.’ Gaius looked less than pleased. ‘I’m anxious to see what Antonia will do now. Go around the back of the temple – there’s another set of steps there; you’ll never get through this mob.’
As Vespasian and Caenis made their way around the temple they heard Regulus begin his address.
‘People of Rome,’ he declaimed, ‘today your Emperor and the Senate have seen fit to protect you from a man who has sought to dominate you for too long.’ A scattering of cheers rang out. ‘A man who has grown too large for our city.’ More substantial cheers greeted this remark. ‘A man who, like Icarus, has flown too high and has now been burned by the sun. Is it not right, since our Emperor is like the sun to us, guiding us through this life, that this man, Sejanus, should have been brought down in the temple of the sun god himself: Apollo?’
Thunderous cheers drowned Regulus out as Vespasian and Caenis made their way down the back steps of the temple.
‘He’s certainly getting them going,’ Vespasian observed as they headed towards Antonia’s house, just two hundred paces away.
‘He needs to,’ Caenis replied, struggling to keep up with him. ‘Sejanus has been very generous in sponsoring games. He’s not unloved by all the people, by any means; if Regulus doesn’t get them on his side they could well riot and try to free him.’
Vespasian shuddered at the thought but realised that Caenis’ assessment was absolutely right.
They arrived at Antonia’s door and knocked; a brief glance through the viewing slot was enough for the doorkeeper to let them in.
Antonia was waiting in the atrium with the first list in her hand. ‘Vespasian,’ she said disappointedly, ‘so the Emperor didn’t demand Sejanus’ death.’
Rome's Executioner (Vespasian) Page 34
