‘Wishing the Emperor dead is a very serious accusation indeed,’ Asiaticus told the Senate after Eutyches’ statement had been read. ‘We should have this freedman sent to the Emperor so that he can question him personally. Do you know where he is, Senator Pollo?’
‘I do, Consul; the Lady Antonia has had him confined since he tried to blackmail her because her grandson merely reprimanded Herod for his views rather than reporting the treason.’
‘Good, I shall ask her to keep him there until the Urban Prefect can arrange for his transfer. We should now discuss how to deal with Herod Agrippa.’
Sabinus got to his feet and waved the scroll that Antonia had given him. ‘Consul, I have some information that relates to both the issues that have been discussed this morning.’
‘You may have the floor.’
‘I am pleased to report that the Lady Antonia has, out of her own purse, purchased a consignment of grain, which she has donated to the public granaries to help relieve the shortage.’ Sabinus paused as the senators expressed their approval and gratitude for this selfless act of altruism. ‘As I was processing the paperwork this came to my notice in amongst the newly arrived grain deliveries.’ He unrolled the scroll with a melodramatic flurry. ‘It is a certificate of ownership for a delivery of grain from Egypt, worth over a quarter of a million denarii; it was part of the consignment of the Egyptian grain fleet that went down in the storm. However, this grain was carried by one of the two transports that did make it to Rome, but I, as the grain aedile for this year, am unable to distribute it because it does not belong to Rome; it remains in a private warehouse in Ostia, all the time gaining in value as grain prices soar. This certificate shows that, once it had been offloaded in Ostia, the ownership of the grain transferred to Gaius Poppaeus Sabinus in payment of a loan he had made to Herod Agrippa.’
Uproar followed this revelation.
Asiaticus bellowed over the crowd in righteous indignation. ‘Are you saying that Herod Agrippa has been using our city’s current difficulties for his own profit so he can pay off debts?’
‘It appears that way, Consul.’
‘Show me that.’
Sabinus walked the length of the House and handed the scroll to Asiaticus.
After a cursory glance the Senior Consul rolled it up and placed it into the fold of his toga. ‘Thank you, Senator Sabinus.’ He looked up at the sea of expectant faces to find the Urban Prefect. ‘Have Herod Agrippa brought before the Senate in chains.’
PART III
ROME, MARCH AD 37
CHAPTER XIII
‘HOW LONG IS it going to take to rebuild?’ Vespasian asked Sabinus as they watched a work-gang of public slaves unload a delivery of bricks in front of the fire-blackened ruins of Sabinus’ house on the Aventine Hill. All around them scores of other gangs were working among the charred ruins of the Aventine, resurrecting the once beautiful and prosperous hill overlooking the Circus Maximus. Heavy cloud and an incessant drizzle added a depressing sombreness to the scene of devastation; hardly a building remained untouched by the fire that had ripped through the area six months before, adding a sour note to Sabinus’ year as a praetor. His denunciation of Herod Agrippa had resulted in the Jewish king being chained to the wall in a damp cell and Sabinus coming top of the poll in the election – beating Corbulo, much to his chagrin – and therefore eligible for the governorship of a senatorial province.
‘It should be about three months, according to the foreman, but with almost every house on the Aventine being rebuilt he can’t say for certain. It depends on the availability of building materials and slaves and also upon whether you, as the aedile in charge of roads, manage to do your job properly and keep the streets clear. Either way, now that the sea-lanes are opening up again, I’ve got to leave for my province in a few days so you’ll have to oversee the work for me.’
‘At least you don’t have to worry about money, the Emperor’s seen to that.’
Sabinus grimaced. ‘Two hundred million sesterces might sound a lot, and there’s no denying that it was very generous of Tiberius now that it’s finally arrived, but that’s not going to cover the cost of every building on the hill. I’m going to have to find some money from somewhere if the house is going to be rebuilt to the standard that it was originally; Clementina won’t accept anything less.’ He shook his head regretfully. ‘If only I hadn’t bought it and just rented it, then it wouldn’t be my problem.’
Vespasian glanced at his brother and judged that now was not the best of times to bring up the fact that he had advised Sabinus not to take the loan from Paetus with which he had bought the house.
Sabinus caught his look. ‘I suppose you want to say “I told you so”, you little shit. Well, you were right: if I’d lived within my means I wouldn’t be in this trouble now. From now on, no more loans.’
‘Have you paid it back yet?’
Sabinus looked embarrassed. ‘No, I keep on meaning to then something happens like a new child, or this.’
‘Well, you should; you promised to pay it back within two years.’
‘Have you kept your promise to Paetus to keep an eye on his son, Lucius, for him?’ Sabinus retorted.
It was Vespasian’s turn to look embarrassed. ‘No, I haven’t. I must take more interest in him.’
‘He must be seventeen now, starting out in life. We both seem to be at fault, brother, as far as Paetus is concerned, so don’t lecture me. I’ll pay it as soon as I’ve got the money.’
‘And I’ll look in on young Lucius. Anyway, you made some money as a praetor last year and should make a lot more from your province; Bithynia’s very wealthy, it’s not the worst place to be the Governor.’
‘It’s not the best either; but you’re right, this time next year I’ll be comfortable enough.’
‘Sir! Sir!’
Vespasian and Sabinus turned to see Magnus running up the hill towards them.
‘Have you heard the news?’ Magnus puffed, pushing past a couple of slaves carrying a heavy wooden beam. ‘It’s all over the city.’
‘Well, unless it’s that my brother has temporarily lifted the ban on delivery carts in the city during the day for building materials for the Aventine,’ Sabinus replied, ‘it hasn’t reached this burned-out quarter.’
‘Your brother-in-law, Clemens, arrived an hour ago with a message from Capreae: Tiberius is dead.’
‘Dead? When?’ Vespasian asked.
‘Yesterday. The Forums are all full of people demanding that his body is brought back to Rome so that it can be chucked into the Tiber.’
‘Did he name Claudius as his successor?’
‘The will hasn’t been read yet, but apparently Caligula has the imperial ring on his hand and has proclaimed himself emperor. He’s sent Macro to address the Senate and read Tiberius’ will; according to Clemens he’s a couple of hours behind him.’
Vespasian looked in alarm at his brother. ‘Shit! Antonia isn’t going to like that; we’d better go and present ourselves to her and see what she plans to do.’
‘She can’t do anything. If Caligula has the imperial ring and Macro throws the Praetorian Guard’s support behind him, he’s the Emperor and that’s that. The best thing that we can do at the moment is to look out for ourselves and get to the Senate so that we don’t stand out as being the only two senators not present to acclaim Caligula emperor.’
Clemens was standing at the foot of the Senate House steps as Vespasian, Sabinus and Magnus arrived. Scores of senators were arriving from all directions, pushing their way through the delirious mob, each as keen as the two brothers to have their loyalty to the new regime noted.
‘I was hoping to find you here,’ Clemens said, greeting the brothers with a grasp of their forearms and a nod to Magnus before leading them away from the crowd. His pinched, narrow face seemed more pasty than usual.
‘You look worried, Clemens,’ Sabinus observed.
‘Of course I’m worried; everyone in their right mind should be
worried. The Empire has just been stolen by a lunatic.’
‘What do you mean “stolen”?’
‘Caligula murdered Tiberius with Macro’s help; they suffocated him, I’m sure of it. When I saw the body shortly after they came out of Tiberius’ room to announce his death his face was discoloured and his tongue was swollen and sticking out of his mouth. Admittedly he was on death’s door anyway but he had just changed his will.’
‘In favour of whom? Claudius?’
‘How would I know? It hasn’t been read yet. All I know is Tiberius called me into his room and ordered me to send for his secretary to bring his will. Once the changes had been made the secretary came out with it and Macro seized it and read it with Caligula. Then they went into Tiberius’ room and the next thing we knew Tiberius was dead, Caligula had his ring and the German Bodyguard were hailing him as Caesar. The secretary accused Macro and Caligula of murder so Caligula’s first order as emperor was to have the man’s tongue cut out and have him crucified.’
Sabinus shrugged. ‘So Caligula’s emperor; it was always going to happen if Tiberius let him survive, whatever Antonia may have tried to do about it. At least we know him and can claim an acquaintance, even if it was some time ago. It could work out quite well for us; and for you too, Clemens – you are the tribune of his personal guard, after all.’
‘If he was sane then perhaps you’d be right; but he’s not. Neither of you have seen him during the last six years but I’ve been with him all the time on that mad island. I’ve watched him become as sexually depraved as Tiberius but with the stamina that the old man didn’t possess. He’s never satisfied, no matter how many people he’s fucked or who he’s been fucked by. Tiberius encouraged him – I heard him joke that he was nursing a viper in Rome’s bosom – by showing him how unbridled power can be used for limitless self-gratification, and Caligula has learnt well. But there was always one thing that restrained him and that was the knowledge that he was ultimately Tiberius’ slave and could be executed on a whim as he’d seen happen to others so many times before; so there was never a better slave. Now with Tiberius gone he’s the master and I promise you there will never be a worse master.’
‘Then we’ll just have to make sure that the master doesn’t notice us,’ Vespasian said. From what he knew of Caligula he feared Clemens was right.
‘It’s too late for that; he’s looking forward to seeing you. He said to tell you that although he hasn’t seen you for six years he still considers you both to be his friends and that now he’s emperor and free to come back to Rome he’s looking forward to the fun – as he put it – that he promised you would have together.’
‘I’m not sure that I like Caligula’s idea of fun, having witnessed it,’ Sabinus commented, ‘it seems to involve his sisters.’
‘It doesn’t always just involve his sisters; I’m more worried by the fact that he seems determined that it’ll also involve my sister. I’ve already sent my wife, Julia, back to my estate at Pisaurum with the children to keep her from him. He’s been telling me for the last few months that he can’t bear the thought that someone as beautiful as Clementina should be deprived of the chance to sample his not inconsiderable manhood; and I’m her brother!’
Sabinus looked understandably concerned. ‘I had better get her and the children out of Rome; I’ll leave for Bithynia first thing tomorrow before Caligula arrives.’
‘Leave now, my friend; if you go into the Senate your presence will be registered and Caligula will know that you left without waiting to greet him. I’ll tell him that you left a couple of days ago before you heard the news; there is a chance that he’ll believe that, now that the port of Brundisium has reopened again.’
Sabinus took his arm in a firm grip. ‘That’s good of you, Clemens.’
‘Stay out there as long as possible, start a war or something. Caligula will only get worse, believe me.’
‘I do.’ Sabinus turned to Vespasian. ‘If I don’t see Uncle Gaius at the house say goodbye for me and thank him for his hospitality over the last six months since the fire.’
‘I will and I’ll send on everything that you need, Sabinus,’ Vespasian said. ‘Just go.’
‘I’ll have four of my lads escort you to Brundisium,’ Magnus offered, ‘they’ll be at the house in an hour.’
‘Thank you, Magnus, and you too, brother,’ Sabinus said, turning quickly to go, ‘and good luck with our friend.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Vespasian called to Sabinus’ retreating back.
‘You’ll be fine,’ Clemens agreed, ‘so long as you bugger Caligula whenever he orders, like I have to; I’m worn out by it sometimes.’
‘What? You, Clemens? You’re joking.’
‘Unfortunately I’m not and I can tell you that it’s one of the least unpleasant duties that I’m forced to perform. But your problem is that Clementina isn’t the only woman who Caligula’s determined to bed; now that he’s emperor I’m sure that he won’t feel the need to take any notice of Antonia’s injunction against having Caenis.’
The mob outside, in the Forum Romanum, was in full cry, celebrating the despised old Emperor’s death and the accession of their new hope, Caligula; but there was near silence in the packed Senate House as Quintus Naevius Cordus Sutorius Macro entered, in military uniform, holding a scroll-case. He was flanked, outrageously, by four armed Praetorian Guardsmen also in uniform rather than wearing their customary togas, worn when on duty within the city. The looks on most senators’ faces attested to what they felt about such an overt display of Praetorian power over the increasingly enfeebled Senate.
‘He’s making the point that this time the Guard has chosen the Emperor,’ Gaius whispered to Vespasian over the muttering of their unhappy colleagues, ‘and we have to ratify it or face their swords.’
Gnaeus Acerronius Proculus, the Senior Consul, remained seated on his curule chair as the small party clattered up the centre of the House. ‘The Senate calls upon Quintus Naevius Cordus Sutorius Macro to brief it on the health of our beloved Emperor, Tiberius. Is the rumour true?’ Proculus called, taking the initiative in an attempt to reassert senatorial authority.
‘Of course it’s true, as you well know, Consul,’ Macro growled, ‘and I’m here to tell—’
‘Conscript Fathers,’ Proculus cut in, ‘the Praetorian prefect has brought us the most grievous news: confirmation that our Emperor is dead.’ He began to wail theatrically.
The whole Senate followed his lead; cries of woe and anguish filled the House, drowning out Macro’s attempts to make himself heard until, humiliated, he was forced to wait impotently to be allowed to speak.
Vespasian and Gaius joined in the protestations of grief, wholeheartedly enjoying the look on Macro’s face. ‘I don’t know how wise a move that was,’ Vespasian shouted in Gaius’ ear, ‘but it was well done and most amusing.’
‘In as much as goading a lion is amusing,’ Gaius replied. ‘But if he was trying to wrest some authority back from the Guard to the Senate then it was certainly a good start.’
As the expressions of grief continued a pair of dark eyes locked with Vespasian’s from the other side of the House; with a jolt he realised that Corvinus was back in Rome and had taken his seat in the Senate.
‘I propose a ten-day period of mourning to start from this moment,’ Proculus eventually called out above the din. ‘All trials will be suspended, no sentences will be carried out and all public business, including that of this House, will cease. After that time we will ratify Tiberius’ will and vote Gaius Caesar Germanicus all honours according to his station. The House will divide.’
‘The House will listen to me!’ Macro bellowed.
‘The House will divide, prefect. You wouldn’t want it said that you stopped the House voting a suitable period of mourning for an emperor, would you?’
‘Fuck the period of mourning, Consul, I will be heard. The Emperor Gaius has sent me to give you Tiberius’ will and tell you to nullify it.’
&n
bsp; Proculus looked suddenly unsure. ‘But surely it names him as Tiberius’ heir?’
‘It names him as the co-heir along with Tiberius Gemellus; it cannot be left like that, it’s a recipe for civil war.’
‘On what grounds can we change an emperor’s will?’
‘On the grounds that he was mentally incapable when he made it; and if that’s not enough for you, do you hear that?’ Macro gesticulated towards the noise coming through the door; there was now a violent ring to it. ‘That is the sound of the people wanting to be ruled over by one man, not by one man and a boy. My men have been circulating among the crowd telling them the terms of the will and they don’t like it; I can guarantee that none of you will get out of here alive until you change it. And while you’re about it I suggest that you vote the Emperor all the titles and honours that you feel will please him; after that you can vote on what the fuck you like.’ Macro threw the scroll-case at the Senior Consul, turned and marched smartly out with his escort.
Proculus’ shoulders sagged; his attempt to reassert the Senate’s authority as the legitimate power in Rome had come to a humiliating end. He knew that none of his colleagues would risk the wrath of the mob. He got wearily to his feet. ‘I propose that this House nullifies Tiberius’ will and votes Gaius Caesar Germanicus as his sole heir and therefore the only Emperor.’
Tears streamed down Caligula’s face; his voice was high with emotion, straining with grief. ‘In his modesty he refused the title of “Father of the Country”; he refused to be worshipped as a god, preferring instead to take his reward for his selfless service in the love that his people bore him for his just and benign rule.’
‘I can’t help but wonder if he is really talking about Tiberius,’ Gaius muttered to Vespasian out of the corner of his mouth.
‘If he is, it makes a nice change,’ Vespasian replied, ‘that’s almost the first time that he’s mentioned him.’
They had already stood through nearly two hours of Caligula praising his father Germanicus as well as his great-uncle Augustus and thereby reminding the people of Rome of the stock that he came from and securing in their minds his right to be emperor. Now it seemed that he had finally got on to the subject that he was meant to be eulogising, although, judging by the looks on the faces of the other senators standing with them on the steps of Pompey’s Theatre in the Campus Martius, Vespasian could see that his uncle was not the only person having difficulty in trying to equate the new Emperor’s words with the character of his predecessor.
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