Vespasian: Tribune of Rome (Vespasian 1)

by Robert Fabbri

  ‘Unfortunate? Pah!’ Antonia spat, and Vespasian blinked in shock. All afternoon she had been the perfect hostess: mild, calm and attentive, but in that moment he saw the fire in her that made her the most formidable woman of her generation and not to be crossed. ‘My son Germanicus was poisoned in Syria by the Governor Calpurnius Piso, on Sejanus’ orders and possibly with the connivance of Tiberius himself, although that part I cannot prove. However, Piso’s suicide before his defence had started proves to me his guilt. As for Drusus, his wife Livilla, that treacherous harpy of a daughter that I nursed at my own breast, poisoned him, I’m sure of it, though again I have no proof. She and Sejanus are lovers; he asked the Emperor’s permission to marry her this year. Tiberius refused and forbade them to see each other. However, she is still Sejanus’ mistress but they are too clever to let that come to Tiberius’ attention.’

  ‘That is news indeed, domina,’ Gaius said, digesting the implications of the revelation. ‘That would mean that he wouldn’t be afraid to make an attempt on the Emperor’s life.’

  ‘No, he’s too subtle for that,’ Antonia replied. ‘He knows that should he do so and try to take the purple for himself the Senate and half the legions would rise against him and we would be back into years of civil war.’

  ‘He’s been far more clever,’ Asinius said, smiling. ‘He’s managed to get rid of Tiberius without killing him.’

  ‘But he was at the Circus Maximus just yesterday,’ Vespasian blurted out, completely forgetting his place.

  ‘So he was, young man, so he was, but for the last time ever.’ Asinius took another sip of wine. ‘We have over the last couple of years seen a resurgence of treason trials, mostly on trumped-up charges, but nevertheless getting convictions. This has enabled Sejanus to persuade our Emperor to see conspiracies around every corner. He knows that he has never been popular; he’s been nervous ever since the legions along the Rhine rose up against him on his accession. He tried to ingratiate himself with the Senate, deferring to them in foreign and domestic policy decisions, accepting votes against his wishes and even giving way to the Consuls when he met them in the street. But he now feels that this policy has backfired and that the Senate saw his conciliatory behaviour as weakness and is now trying to remove him.’

  ‘And for Tiberius,’ Antonia added, ‘the proof of all this is in the successful treason trials.’

  ‘Set up by Sejanus?’ Gaius ventured, admiring the beauty of the strategy.

  ‘Indeed, and with the two obvious heirs gone Sejanus has managed to persuade him that the Senate will try to restore the Republic – something for which Tiberius denounced his own brother, Lady Antonia’s husband, to Augustus when he suggested it in a private letter many years ago. Sejanus has played him beautifully, he provided Tiberius with proof of his greatest fear whilst concealing the true source of the threat against him. He has persuaded him, for his own safety, to withdraw from Rome in the New Year, after the next Consuls are sworn in, and take up permanent residence on Capreae.’

  ‘But with the Emperor, the one person that protects him, gone, surely Sejanus will be left vulnerable to attack from the Senate?’ Gaius observed, thinking he’d seen a flaw in the plan.

  ‘In normal circumstances yes,’ Antonia said, her calm returned, ‘but somehow Sejanus has managed to persuade Tiberius to appoint Gnaeus Cornelius Gaetulicus and Gaius Calvisius Sabinus to the Consulship.’

  ‘Yes, I know. Neither of them is remarkable: Gaetulicus writes dirty poems and is popular with the army and Calvisius Sabinus is bit on the slow side.’

  ‘Slow?’ Antonia laughed. ‘He makes my son Claudius seem like a quick-witted defence lawyer.’

  ‘So who will be controlling the Senate next year, then?’ Asinius asked rhetorically. ‘An idiot, and a man who is popular amongst the troops, whose daughter is, coincidently, betrothed to Sejanus’ elder son.’

  ‘Ah!’ Gaius exclaimed.

  ‘Ah, indeed, my old friend,’ Antonia said, ‘and he’s done more.’

  Vespasian and Sabinus looked at each other, both wondering what other depths Sejanus had sunk to and also why they, a couple of inexperienced country boys, were being privileged with the details.

  ‘What more does he need to do? Surely it’s perfect as it is?’ Gaius asked, genuinely puzzled. ‘Tiberius withdrawn to an island guarded by Praetorians, hearing only the news that Sejanus wants him to hear. Meanwhile the Senate is in the hands of a fool who’s too stupid to sponge clean his own arse without a diagram and someone who is practically family. It’s brilliant. What more does he need to worry about?’

  ‘The army,’ Vespasian said quietly.

  ‘Absolutely right, young man, the army,’ Asinius said, looking at Vespasian with new respect and then darting an approving glance in Antonia’s direction. ‘The army will be his problem, but he has already started to deal with it.’

  ‘How?’ Vespasian asked.

  ‘Who was behind Tacfarinas’ revolt last year, providing him with the tens of thousands of freshly minted denarii that were found in his treasury? Whose agents encouraged the rebellion in Thracia against our client king Rhoemetalces, which is still going on at this very moment? Why did the Parthian envoys sent to Rome this year have a secret meeting with Sejanus after they had concluded their business with the Emperor and the Senate? Trouble on the frontiers keeps the army busy. The more trouble there is the busier they’ll be; busy enough perhaps not to notice what’s going on in Rome. You can bet on a few incursions across the Rhine and the Danubius this year, maybe Parthia will start sniffing around Armenia again; and I wouldn’t be surprised if an invasion of Britain soon becomes the Emperor’s policy – that would keep at least four legions occupied whilst Sejanus tightens his grip on power. Then, when Tiberius dies, the all-powerful Sejanus will be in prime position to be regent for one of the young imperial grandsons who will probably succeed to the purple.’

  ‘And once he’s regent, with the Praetorians behind him, he’ll be able to get tribunician powers and become untouchable,’ Gaius said smiling grimly. ‘That is clever, very, very clever. You have to admire the man.’

  ‘Oh, I do,’ Asinius asserted, ‘and, more importantly, I respect him. This is a man who takes the long view. He has patience to match his cunning and subtlety to match his ruthlessness. He is a formidable adversary and, for the good of Rome, he must be destroyed. The problem is that we don’t yet have any hard evidence against him; we need time to collect it. This is where Antonia and I think that you could be of use.’

  ‘Without evidence Tiberius will not listen to me, he thinks that I am just pursuing a vendetta against Sejanus because I believe that he was responsible for my son’s death.’

  Gaius tilted his head in acknowledgement. Asinius went to pour himself some more wine but found the mixing bowl empty. Antonia looked towards Pallas, standing quietly in the corner. ‘Pallas, some more wine, if you would.’

  Pallas bowed his head and disappeared through the curtain. An instant later there was a shout and the smash of a jar breaking on the floor. Vespasian and Sabinus leapt to their feet immediately and rushed through to the serving room where they found Pallas, in the half-light, wrestling with a figure on the floor. Grabbing the man from behind, Sabinus tore him off the Greek and pushed him face down onto the floor. Putting his knee into the small of the man’s back, he quickly yanked his head back by his hair and slammed his face down on to the stone floor. The captive’s nose and jaw shattered on impact; he let out a brief cry and lay still.

  ‘Who is he?’ Antonia demanded as she arrived in the doorway.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Pallas gasped, winded, ‘it’s too dark.’

  ‘Bring him in here, then.’ She pulled the curtain back. Sabinus and Vespasian dragged the man by his feet, leaving behind a pool of blood peppered with broken teeth. Back in the lamplight of Antonia’s room they rolled him over.

  ‘I don’t know him,’ Antonia said, ‘but I don’t think even his mother would recognise him looking l
ike that.’

  His bloodied face was indeed a mess: his nose was flattened to one side; his swollen lips had shards of broken teeth embedded in them; and his slack jaw hung at peculiar angle.

  ‘Pallas! Pallas, come here at once.’

  ‘Yes, mistress, sorry,’ the Greek groaned from the doorway. He hobbled into the room and looked down at his assailant.

  ‘Well, who is he?’ Asinius insisted.

  ‘It’s Eumenes, the doorkeeper.’

  ‘One of my slaves!’ Antonia was outraged. ‘How long since I bought him?’

  ‘Less than a year, mistress; he started as a house slave. He and his brother had been down on their luck so they left their native Creta and came here to sell themselves into slavery. I imagine they hoped to one day earn their freedom and citizenship. I admired his enterprise and promoted him to the door about three months ago. I am so sorry, mistress, he has probably been passing on lists of your guests to whomever he reports to.’

  ‘Well, we won’t worry about that now. How long was he listening for?’

  ‘Not long, mistress. I checked behind the door and curtain regularly.’

  ‘Well, let’s find out what he heard and who he spies for.’

  CHAPTER X

  BY THE TIME he regained consciousness Eumenes had been strapped naked on to a table in the serving room. He groaned loudly but stopped abruptly as the pain from his shattered jaw magnified with any movement. He felt a hand close around his scrotum and opened his eyes in fright. Through the mist of blood he saw his owner leaning over him.

  ‘Now, you treacherous little pile of filth,’ Antonia hissed through clenched teeth, ‘you are going to tell me why you were spying on me.’ She squeezed his testicles with all her strength, drawing out a long shriek from her victim; it caused the five men around her to grimace in unconscious sympathy.

  Vespasian watched Antonia in shocked disbelief as she continuously tightened and then eased her fist; there was no pleasure on her face, only cold determination. She was not to be crossed. She finally released her grip and the noise subsided. Blood outlined her fingernails and she reached for a cloth. She looked down at the heaving chest of her slave.

  ‘Well, Pallas,’ she said grimly, ‘he doesn’t want to do it the easy way, let’s see if he prefers the hard way.’

  Pallas nodded to his mistress and with a pair of tongs picked out a red-hot piece of charcoal from a brazier. He showed it to the terrified doorkeeper, who turned his head away. Pallas looked at his mistress.

  ‘Do it,’ she ordered.

  Vespasian smelt burning flesh as the charcoal sizzled its way through the skin of the man’s thigh into the muscle below. His howls echoed around the house.

  ‘Leave it there and put another on.’

  Pallas did as he was told, this time dropping it on his belly; the doorkeeper writhed and wailed but still refused to talk.

  ‘And another,’ Antonia shouted, getting more frustrated by the moment.

  Vespasian remembered the crucified boy. How easy it was to inflict pain on a person with no rights. He looked around the room at the others; Sabinus had a wild grin on his face but Asinius and Gaius were intent and grim. Both realised that their lives could depend on breaking this slave.

  As a coal ate through his right nipple Eumenes passed out. Silence filled the room. They stared at the twisted, smoking body and wondered in amazement what loyalty or terror beyond these walls could induce him to endure such agony.

  ‘Brush off the coals and bring him round,’ Antonia said with resolve in her voice. ‘We’ll see if he prefers his flesh to be cut instead of burnt.’

  Pallas threw a bucket of water over him, causing steam to rise from the roasting wounds.

  ‘We must be careful not to overdo it,’ Gaius said anxiously. ‘We don’t want him dying on us.’

  ‘Do you think that I’ve never had a slave tortured before?’ Antonia snapped.

  ‘My apologies, domina.’

  Another two buckets of water brought the wretched man round. He started to moan.

  ‘Show him the knife,’ Antonia said slowly.

  Pallas unsheathed a long thin blade, curved and sharp as a razor, and held it in front of Eumenes’ eyes. They widened in horror as the sleek instrument reflected the glow of the brazier on to his face.

  ‘Believe me, you will talk,’ Antonia said in a quiet, menacing voice. ‘It’s just up to you how many ears, fingers and balls you have left when you do.’

  ‘I can’t,’ he whispered.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘They have my brother.’

  ‘Who has?’

  Eumenes shook his head.

  ‘Start on his ears.’

  Pallas grabbed his head with his left hand and pulled it towards him.

  ‘No! No!’ Eumenes begged.

  The knife flashed and the ear fell with a light thud on to the table, which was soon covered with blood.

  ‘The other.’

  Pallas pushed Eumenes’ head away exposing the other side of his face.

  ‘About two months ago,’ Eumenes cried through his broken mouth, ‘a man came to the door.’

  Antonia put up her hand and signalled Pallas to stop. ‘Who?’ she asked urgently.

  ‘Hasdro, Sejanus’ freedman. He gave me a packet and told me to open it in private. He said he would return and tell me what to do. I opened it later, as I was told, in my quarters.’ Blood spilt out of his mouth and down his cheeks as he struggled to form the words.

  ‘Well? Out with it,’ Antonia urged.

  ‘It contained a hand; on it was a ring that I recognised as my brother’s,’ Eumenes panted; despite his pain he blanched at the memory.

  ‘What did he say when he came back?’ Asinius pressed him, his lip curling fastidiously. He was keen to get this over with.

  ‘He told me that I was to memorise all the visitors that you receive. I was to make no lists, not that I can write, you understand.’

  ‘Yes, yes, go on.’ Antonia was not interested in the literary abilities of a mere slave.

  ‘Someone would call by every few days and I was to pass them on to him, that way my brother would keep his other hand.’ He sobbed at the thought of it.

  ‘But that doesn’t explain why you were spying tonight, he told you just to collect names,’ Asinius pointed out.

  ‘When the man came by yesterday I gave him your name for the third time in five visits. He told me to listen in the next time you were here and to get something interesting or it would go badly for my brother.’

  ‘Who owns your brother?’ asked Antonia.

  ‘He’s a slave in the house of your daughter, Livilla.’

  ‘That venomous little snake,’ Antonia exploded. ‘Spying on her own mother, prying into my private affairs and no doubt passing it all on to that monster Sejanus whilst he rams his cock up her grateful arse, literally pumping her for information. I should have strangled the little bitch at birth.’

  The men in the room were silent after this outburst.

  Antonia was shaking with rage; forcing herself to be calm she looked down at the sobbing Eumenes. ‘We should go back next door and discuss the situation,’ she said. ‘Gentlemen, please.’ She indicated to the curtained doorway and looked back at Pallas, giving a slight nod of the head.

  Vespasian passed through the door to the sound of a sharp slice and a gurgling death rattle. He felt a little pity for Eumenes but guessed that Antonia had calculated that she could neither keep him nor sell him. If Eumenes had answered the door to Livilla’s agent looking like that the man would guess that he’d talked and the brother would lose his other hand – or worse. Again, if he were sold, it would be obvious that he’d talked. His death was probably his brother’s only hope, but it was a very slender one.

  They reclined back down on the couches and Antonia looked at the Consul. ‘Well, Asinius, what do you think?’

  ‘I think that we have been lucky.’ He reached for some more wine but remembered that the bowl
was empty and that Pallas was otherwise engaged. ‘If Sejanus is spying on you he’s probably watching everyone connected to the imperial house; he has no reason to suspect you are plotting against him any more than the rest are. Had Eumenes reported any of tonight’s conversation then there would have been cause for concern, but fortunately he will be unable to, nor will your other guests’ presence be noted, which means we are still safe to do as we planned.’

  The brothers glanced at their uncle, who tried to give them a reassuring look.

  ‘I think you are right, Consul,’ Antonia said after a brief pause. ‘The only thing he knows for certain about you and me is that you’ve visited a few times in the last month or so. We must keep the visits going so that he thinks that we are unaware of his attentions. Meanwhile we move with care.’ She turned to Gaius and smiled. ‘Now, Gaius, I have a request to make of you.’

  ‘Anything, domina.’

  ‘I need something kept safe.’

  She got up and walked over to the strong box and taking two keys from a chain around her neck inserted them into the locks at each end of the box and turned them simultaneously. With a sharp click the locks opened and she lifted the lid.

  ‘For Sejanus to succeed he will need to eliminate all those who have the ear of the Emperor. Although I have no intention of being eliminated, if I were to be, I am sure that my papers would be gone through and certain ones removed.’ She took four scrolls out from the box. ‘These are two copies, one for the Senate and one for the Emperor. Should the need arise please ensure that they are read.’

  Gaius took the scrolls. ‘I pray that I shall never need to do as you ask. They will be kept safe in a place known only to me for as long as you wish.’

  Antonia sat back down. ‘Now I think that it is time to conclude our business,’ she said, glancing towards Asinius as Pallas returned, still looking dishevelled.

  ‘Indeed. Pallas, thank the gods, more wine,’ Asinius cried; the steward nodded. ‘Now, we have no direct way to combat Sejanus without solid evidence against him, which will take time to amass. In the meantime he needs to be frustrated in the Senate. I would ask you, Gaius, to attend as much as possible and have as many opinions as possible and speak at length on each one. You will find others, also at my request, and myself doing the same so you won’t stand out as a troublemaker. We may be able to delay his long-term plans by talking out his short-term ones. Meanwhile Antonia and I, with the help of our agents, will gather the hard evidence we need to convince Tiberius of the man’s duplicity. When we are successful I am sure that your long-awaited consulship will be forthcoming.’