But it was the memory of Messalina’s dark eyes staring at him with such cold desire and then warming as they beheld Flavia that Vespasian found hard to forget as he walked up the fragrant path, curving through each beautifully designed and manicured section of the gardens. He knew that he had to avoid being drawn into her entourage, as Flavia had quite evidently already been; but how intimate the relationship was he did not know, nor did he want to guess. Instead, he allowed the tranquillity of this hillside retreat to soothe away the cares and troubles of his first two days back in Rome.
Putting Flavia’s profligacy and suspect morality to the back of his mind, as well as Messalina’s lasciviousness, Claudius’ gambling, Titus’ friendship with Britannicus and the fact that he still had not properly seen Caenis, Vespasian walked through the apricot orchard enjoying the soft cooing of doves and the dappled sun playing on his cheeks.
‘It needs to be moved at least ten paces further back,’ a voice ordered from beyond the trees.
Vespasian turned a final corner and came out in front of the villa to see Asiaticus standing in front of his funeral pyre with a well-dressed slave whom Vespasian presumed was his steward. Beyond them guests mingled on the terrace.
‘Yes, rebuild it in front of the steps up to the terrace; if it burns here it’ll damage the apricots.’
‘Yes, master,’ the steward replied. There were tears clearly visible in his eyes.
‘And stop crying, Philologos, you’ll make all my guests feel gloomy; this is going to be a happy occasion.’
‘Yes, master.’
‘You of all people should be celebrating as I’ve freed you in my will.’
‘I’m deeply grateful, master,’ Philologos said, bowing and backing away.
‘Good evening, Asiaticus,’ Vespasian ventured. He was slightly nervous as to how he would be received.
‘Ah! My false-accuser, welcome!’ Asiaticus clasped Vespasian’s arm with surprising affability. ‘There is someone here that I want you to talk to.’
‘Of course, Asiaticus. But first I want to assure you that when I enjoyed your hospitality last night I had no idea of what I was going to be pushed into this morning.’
‘I believe you, my friend; and I do not blame Pallas for doing what he did. My fate was sealed the moment that I refused to sell these gardens to Messalina; as she left the room she primed Vitellius to lie about me asking if I could choose the manner of my death as if I had recognised my guilt. Pallas knew she would get me and was just trying to make something positive out of it. I assume that your brother was the real culprit?’
‘He was.’
‘Some honesty at last. So my death will clear him.’
‘You can accept being condemned for a crime that you didn’t commit without rancour?’ Vespasian took a cup of wine from a passing slave and put it to his lips.
‘Yes, because my revenge is assured.’
Vespasian paused, mid-sip.
Asiaticus’ face creased in amusement; he took the cup, downed half its contents and then handed it back. ‘It’s not poisoned; I would consider it the height of bad manners to poison a guest at a dinner party. And anyway, you have nothing to fear from me because you will be an instrument of my revenge.’
Vespasian drained the rest of the wine and looked at his host uneasily as Philologos arrived with half a dozen slaves to begin dismantling the pyre. ‘I suppose that would be the least that I could do after this morning.’
‘This morning has nothing to do with why I’ve chosen you.’ Asiaticus put an arm around Vespasian’s shoulders and led him off towards a man leaning against an apricot tree with his back towards them, looking out over the Campus Martius to the Seven Hills of Rome awash with soft, evening light. ‘These gardens are about everything that is good in Rome,’ Asiaticus said, gesticulating with his free hand. ‘Here there is peace, cultivation – both literal and metaphorical – beauty and a remarkably fine view of the world. However, because they represent all that, they are also a mighty lure to the other forces that prevail in Rome: greed, ambition and a lust for power. Claudius told me this morning that I may keep them to hand on to my heirs; but I’m not stupid, I know that Messalina will persuade him to confiscate them and give them to her, because someone who possesses those last three qualities in such abundance will never be able to resist such beauty.’
‘She already has, Asiaticus, this afternoon at the games.’
‘She was quick,’ Asiaticus commented dryly as they drew close to the figure next to the tree.
‘She has always been good at getting what she wants,’ the man said, keeping his back to them. ‘But this time her greed will be her downfall.’
The man turned and Vespasian failed to hide his surprise as he saw the hated, familiar face with its haughty patrician sneer. ‘Corvinus!’
‘Hello, bumpkin; it seems that we’re to be friends – for a while.’
The guests applauded as the main dish was brought out on six silver platters held high by slaves. Six roast fowl, each with their small heads still attached and propped up so as to give the impression that the birds were roosting; three of them had their magnificent tail plumage reinstated behind them in a resplendent fan, whilst the other three, the duller females, looked less magnificent but equally delicious.
‘The only way that I can take my peacocks with me is to have them in my stomach when I’m cremated,’ Asiaticus announced to the good-humoured reaction of the two dozen senators reclining around three separate tables. ‘Because I’m certainly not leaving them here to be enjoyed by the next owner; whoever she may be.’ This raised a nervous laugh and Vespasian was aware of more than a few eyes glancing at Corvinus, next to him, as a pair of peacocks was placed on each table.
The presence of Marcus Valerius Messalla Corvinus had been a source of confusion all evening, which neither Corvinus nor Asiaticus had done anything to alleviate. Vespasian had had to assume that only he and his host were party to Corvinus’ treachery towards his sister. However, why his old enemy had had a change of heart remained unclear.
Vespasian reached over and carved a slice off the breast of the male bird; it was perfectly roasted, remaining moist and with a texture that did not strain the jaw. ‘My uncle said that they would taste far better than they sounded,’ he observed to Corvinus, who surprised him with a smile that could not quite be classified as a sneer.
‘That is hardly difficult.’ Corvinus leant closer to Vespasian as the conversation around the tables grew louder with the guests commenting on the rare delicacy. ‘I’ll answer your unspoken question, bumpkin: it’s because I don’t wish to go down with her. She has become so arrogant that she’s getting careless. She believes that Claudius will always swallow her version of events. Even you will have the gumption to realise that in that state of mind she’s about to make a major mistake.’
‘Insulting me is not going to help enlist my aid; I assume that’s what you want.’
‘Force of habit, sorry; and yes, that is what I want although it makes me sick to the core that Fate has chosen you, bumpkin.’
‘My name is Vespasian.’
‘Indeed. Well, Vespasian, despite you leaving me to the slavers out in Cyrenaica—’
‘From whom I rescued you; an act for which I still haven’t received any gratitude.’
Corvinus waved the comment away and placed another morsel of the succulent flesh into his mouth. ‘And despite your and the cuckold’s insolent—’
‘My brother’s name is Sabinus.’
‘Indeed.’ Corvinus chewed as if the taste of the meat was not at all to his liking. ‘Well, despite your and your brother’s insolent interruption of my attempt to steal Claudius’ glory in the invasion of Britannia—’
‘Oh, so you admit that, do you?’
‘Vespasian, it would serve no purpose to deny it to you; I’m trying to be candid.’
‘Candid? If you want to be candid then explain to me why you seized Sabinus’ wife and gave her to Caligula for him to
fuck repeatedly!’
The conversation around the table died; Corvinus raised an apologetic hand to his fellow diners. ‘Excuse us, gentlemen, I made a jest in bad taste.’
‘A jest?’ Vespasian hissed as the chatter resumed, fuelled by four slaves bringing a bronze bath out onto the terrace. ‘That was far from being a jest, that was—’
‘Business! As I told you at the time. Although, I do remember it being tinged with a hint of pleasure that she was your sister-in-law; as far as I was concerned that made up for the slavers and we were all square. But giving Clementina to Caligula was a smart move on my part.’
Vespasian grudgingly accepted this statement with a slow nod of his head as he carved another portion of peacock. ‘It forced her brother, Clemens, to assassinate him and paved the way for your sister to become empress. And now you regret that?’
‘It’s not been as advantageous to me as I’d hoped. In a few days’ time Geta and your brother become consuls and yet here I am, overlooked and with no prospect of a lucrative province to govern. One word from her to Claudius would have got me the consulship at any time she liked but no, nothing. In fact, quite the opposite: she’s purposely holding my career back, out of jealousy, I would assume. Claudius has always favoured me so she must have persuaded him not to grant me a consulship.’
‘That’s more likely to be Narcissus’ doing.’
‘No, it’s Messalina’s without a doubt; Narcissus doesn’t have that much influence over Claudius when it comes to family matters. And now she seems determined to pursue her lifestyle to the point of self-destruction; well, her demise won’t herald mine.’ He paused as a group of slaves came out with pitchers and poured their steaming contents into the bath. ‘It would seem that our host is planning to say goodnight soon.’
‘I suppose that it’s the appropriate time seeing that he’s served the most delicious course of the evening.’
Corvinus smothered a smile by gnawing on a thigh bone. ‘So to carry on in this candid spirit; I have not repaid you for what you did in Britannia even though I’ve had ample opportunity to do so with your wife and children living in the palace. That, of course, was what I originally intended when I persuaded Claudius to insist that they move in.’
‘So what made you change your mind?’
‘The pointlessness of it. What would it have got me? A small amount of pleasure but nothing tangible. However, your wife’s growing friendship with Messalina – I wonder, does fawning constitute friendship? Well, that was of far more use to me over the last couple of years as my relationship with my sister cooled. She’s told me some very interesting things about a few of Messalina’s new little habits.’
‘You talk to her?’
‘Occasionally; you know what Flavia’s like: being anxious to impress people of higher status can make a person very garrulous.’
‘What else does she do?’
‘With me? Nothing.’
‘With other people?’
‘Gentlemen,’ Asiaticus called, rising from his couch, ‘I hope that you are enjoying the meal as much as I am.’ A chorus of approval greeted this remark. ‘There will be another three courses, which, although not as exotic as peacock, will nevertheless be delicious. I will watch you enjoy them from the comfort of my bath as my life slips away.’ He raised his arms in the air and his steward pulled his tunic over his head. Removing his loincloth, Asiaticus stepped into the bathtub and lay back with his head on the raised end. He took a cup of wine from a waiting slave and raised it to the assembled company. ‘My one regret is that my death would have been more honourable had it resulted from Tiberius’ cunning or Caligula’s fury rather than from a woman’s treachery and Vitellius’ poison tongue. However, at least I’ve been allowed to choose the manner of my passing. I drink to Rome and better times for you all.’
Everyone present echoed the first part of the toast but ignored the second sentiment, much to Asiaticus’ obvious amusement as he drained his cup. He handed the cup to Philologos who gave him a short dagger in return. Without any pause Asiaticus put the blade to his left wrist and slowly slit it lengthways.
With a gush of blood the artery opened and Asiaticus looked up at his guests and smiled. ‘So my life comes towards its end, my friends. Come and greet me one by one and we’ll say our farewells. Philologos, order the next course to be brought to the tables.’
The steward gave the order with tears streaming down his cheeks as the first of the guests moved forward in the now sombre atmosphere. Vespasian and Corvinus joined the queue and waited in respectful silence as plates of poached perch in a cumin sauce were brought out from the villa.
With his time now at a premium, Asiaticus did not waste it on long goodbyes and as Vespasian bent to kiss him the fading ex-Consul looked at him in earnest and clasped his arm. ‘Do as Corvinus asks, Vespasian; with Messalina’s death mine will be avenged and you will have repaid your debt to me.’
‘I will, Asiaticus, you have my word.’ Vespasian placed a kiss on Asiaticus’ cheek as his arm fell back into the blood-red water. With a final nod to the dying man he joined Corvinus waiting for him to walk back to the table together. ‘I gave him my word, so tell me what you want of me.’
‘I need you to speak to Narcissus for me and organise a meeting. I can’t go directly to him because Messalina’s bound to find out. She has spies everywhere – even here, I expect – so the meeting has to be as if by accident, in a crowd. I would suggest that it take place at Plautius’ Ovation in six days’ time; tell him to look out for me on the steps of the Temple of Jupiter.’
‘Why would my asking him make a difference?’
‘He knows how much we hate each other. That’s why, distasteful as it may be to me, Asiaticus advised me to choose you as my messenger; Narcissus will believe it if it’s you who tells him that I won’t stand in his way nor demand revenge if he gets rid of my sister. In fact, I will help him in any way that I can.’ Corvinus grabbed Vespasian’s shoulder and lowered his voice, looking at him intently. ‘Tell him that I know her future plans for the Empire over the next year and they don’t involve Claudius.’
‘And they involve you?’
‘They do but not in the way that I would have wanted them to and certainly not in a way that makes me feel secure. Therefore I’m prepared to divulge them to Narcissus in return for my life when she falls. But in order to ensure her fall you have to do another thing.’
Vespasian removed Corvinus’ hand as the grip became more intense. ‘Go on.’
‘You must talk to Flavia and get her to confide in you everything that she sees and hears whilst she is with Messalina. With a spy that close to my sister we’ll be able to monitor her plans.’
‘Surely you could do that.’
‘I’m not that close to Messalina any more; she only confides in me when she wants me to do something for her. Flavia, however, is very close to her; closer than is natural, and shares more than I ever did or could.’
Vespasian’s eyes narrowed. ‘What are you implying, Corvinus?’
Corvinus shook his head and wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘Let’s just say that a good time to probe a person’s secrets is whilst lying face to face on the same pillow.’
Vespasian’s fist lashed towards Corvinus’ face, crashing into his jaw with a hollow thump. ‘I don’t believe you!’
Taking a step back to soak up the impact, Corvinus shook his head and exhaled with a couple of long puffs before resuming his haughty sneer and looking down his nose at Vespasian. ‘You really do have rustic manners: upsetting a dying man’s last dinner, bumpkin, is vulgar.’ He raised his hands to indicate to the company that the altercation was at an end and then nodded at Asiaticus who managed to give a thin smile. ‘Believe what you like but the fact is that your wife is in the best position in all of Rome to know Messalina’s mind because, as opposed to the rest of her lovers, who are transient whims, Flavia is a regular in her bed. The only other person who shares that honour is Gaius Silius, but I d
oubt that he’d be a party to Messalina’s plans – he’s merely an insignificant nobody who just happens to be extremely good-looking and well built. So you have to tell your wife to carry on being unfaithful to you; you never know, you might find the thought of it rather titillating once you get used to it. Now, you gave your word to the man whose death you’re partly responsible for – are you going to keep it?’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘Then you have even less honour than the little I credited you with before and I’ll have to resort to threatening the wellbeing of your wife and children.’
Vespasian glanced over to the dying Asiaticus and felt himself deflate; he could not go back on his word and Corvinus knew it. He could tell by the expression on his old enemy’s face that Corvinus was enjoying using him to save himself but there was nothing he could do to resist him. ‘I’ll speak to Narcissus and he’ll see you at the Temple of Jupiter.’
‘And you’ll have spoken to Flavia by then?’
Vespasian took a deep breath. ‘Yes.’
Corvinus nodded with grim satisfaction. ‘You’ve made a wise decision, bumpkin; once Messalina’s gone, Flavia and your children will be free to leave the palace and we’ll be square once and for all.’
‘No, Corvinus, we won’t.’
‘You’d be a foolish man not to accept those terms.’
‘And you’d be a foolish man to think that I would.’
‘Have it your own way. Now, out of politeness to Asiaticus, we should recline and finish the meal.’
But eating was the last thing on Vespasian’s mind.
CHAPTER XVI
Masters of Rome: VESPASIAN V (Vespasian 5) Page 30
