Sabinus was forced to concede a smile. He clapped his younger brother on his back. ‘Do you know, it really is quite good to see you, you little shit.’
Sabinus took his seat at the far end of the high-ceilinged audience chamber in the Governor’s residence; braziers were placed to either side of him to supplement the heat rising from the hypercaust beneath the floor, which failed to fully warm the cavernous room. Vespasian, Gaius and Magnus slipped in through the double doors as Sabinus signalled to a waiting centurion to bring the accused back before him; a couple of clerks, seated at desks to one side, waited to record the proceedings. A woman in her late forties was led in by two auxiliaries; their hobnailed footsteps echoed around an otherwise empty hall, for Sabinus had decided to hold the trial inside in private because of the temperature in the Forum. As the accused was neither a Roman citizen nor male there could be no appeal against the Governor’s decision.
‘Where had we got to?’ Sabinus asked one of the clerks.
The clerk consulted the tablet in front of him. ‘The widow, Lydia of Thyatira, had admitted to giving the agitator, Paulus of Tarsus, lodgings during his stay here in Philippi two years ago.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Sabinus contemplated the well-dressed and evidently wealthy woman standing before him. Her hair was demurely covered and she stood with her hands clasped and her eyes lowered – the image of a respectable lady. ‘Did you allow Paulus to spread his treasonous teachings under your roof?’
‘We had prayer meetings most evenings,’ Lydia replied in a quiet voice.
‘She must be a follower of that nasty bow-legged bastard Paulus,’ Vespasian whispered to Magnus.
‘Who’s he, dear boy?’ Gaius asked.
‘He’s a preacher who’s been travelling around the East stirring up trouble in the name of that Jew that Pontius Pilatus had Sabinus crucify when he was in Judaea.’
Magnus spat in disgust and then wiped it off the floor with his foot as he remembered where he was. ‘We last saw him in Alexandria when he was busy stirring up trouble between the Greeks and the Jews – not that they needed much help.’
Sabinus was carrying on his questioning. ‘And at these meetings did he tell his followers not to make sacrifices to the Emperor when they renew their oath to him and instead ordered them to claim that they have the right to make a sacrifice on behalf of the Emperor and not to him like the Jews do, even though most of his followers here are Macedonians?’
Lydia did not raise her eyes from the floor. ‘There is only one god and Yeshua is his son.’
Gaius frowned. ‘One god? Whoever heard such nonsense? Who’s this Yeshua?’
‘Yosef’s kinsman, the Jewish trader; the one who helped us rescue Sabinus from the Vale of Sulis in Britannia we told you about?’ Vespasian answered, remembering with a chill druids manifesting the goddess Sulis in the body of a sacrificed girl. ‘Yosef revered Yeshua as a teacher but this Paulus has turned him into some kind of god, and a pretty exclusive god, just like that Jewish one from what I can make out.’
Sabinus glanced at Vespasian, evidently annoyed by hushed voices in the corner of his court, before turning back to the accused. ‘Are you a Jew?’
‘I am a Macedonian and before I met Paulus I was a godfearer.’
‘A god-fearer? What’s that?’
‘We are not Jews as such but worship their god. We do not follow the dietary rules of the Jews and the men do not subject themselves to circumcision. Paulus says that as followers of Yeshua we can honour their god without becoming Jews.’
Sabinus looked less than impressed. ‘I questioned Yeshua.’
‘You spoke with him?’ Lydia asked, forgetting her position.
‘Yes, before I executed him.’
Lydia’s eyes widened at this revelation. ‘You crucified the Christus?’
‘No, I crucified a man called Yeshua who died like any other man. And I can tell you that he didn’t like non-Jews; he called me a Gentile dog, in fact. So whatever nonsense this Paulus is telling you does not come from the teachings of Yeshua; Paulus is perverting them and in doing so has caused a lot of deaths. Do you know that he was the captain of the chief priest’s guard and was sent to claim Yeshua’s body after he’d been crucified so that he could bury it in secret? He persecuted Yeshua’s followers and I asked him why. What was he so afraid of? And he said: “Because he would bring change.” And yet now he seems to be doing the very thing that he feared. Do you really want to trust that man with your life? You can save yourself by telling me where he is, this man who tried to kill Yeshua’s woman and his children.’
‘I saved Yeshua’s wife and children from Paulus in Cyrene when he was trying to expunge all trace of Yeshua’s bloodline and teachings,’ Vespasian informed Gaius as Lydia contemplated the question.
Gaius frowned, confused. ‘But now he spreads them?’
‘It seems that he had a complete change of heart; although Alexander, the Alabarch of the Alexandrian Jews, thinks that he’s just discovered a way to make himself important.’ Vespasian closed his eyes, thinking. ‘I remember he said that he’s found a way to turn the world upside down with himself finally on the top.’
Lydia lifted her gaze to Sabinus. ‘I was the first person that Paulus baptised in Europa, here in Philippi in the River Gangites; I will not betray him.’
‘You in turn were betrayed by one of his followers who did not fancy spending his last hours on the cross.’
‘I will gladly suffer that fate rather than turn traitor.’
Sabinus paused, evidently less than willing to pronounce sentence on the woman. ‘What was your husband’s business before he died?’
‘He dealt in purple, not porphrya but the cheaper vegetable dye that comes from my home town.’
‘And you now run that business?’
‘As a widow I’m entitled to in law.’
‘And you are prepared to see all the hard work that your husband put in during his life to build up that business wasted, because, if I order your execution, I will confiscate your business. Are you that selfish as to think that Paulus is worth your dead husband’s life’s work?’
Lydia’s silence answered the question.
Sabinus’ fist slammed down on the arm of his curule chair. ‘Very well!’ he shouted. ‘Take her to the cells and leave her there for a few days to consider her position.’
The auxiliaries hauled Lydia away.
‘I will find him,’ Sabinus shouted after her, ‘whether you end your life in agony on a cross or in comfort from the spoils of your husband’s business. I will find Paulus!’
‘I had him,’ Sabinus growled, heading for the chamber door. ‘I had the arrogant little bastard.’
‘You did what, dear boy?’ Gaius asked, waddling hard to keep up with Sabinus’ bad-tempered pace.
‘I had him here, Uncle, locked up in prison.’ Sabinus thumped at the door before the startled auxiliary guarding it had a chance to open it entirely.
‘Here? Why didn’t you crucify him? If there’s one thing he needs it’s crucifixion.’
Vespasian understood the reason for his brother’s seeming omission. ‘That may be but it’s the one thing he can’t have. He’s a Roman citizen.’
‘He’s a what? Then why is he spreading such anti-Roman ideas like not making a sacrifice to the Emperor?’
‘Is that what he was arrested for?’ Magnus asked as they clattered down a cold, dimly lit corridor.
Sabinus slowed his pace. ‘No, it was before we knew he was encouraging such things. He claimed to have cast an evil spirit out of a slave girl of one of the leading magistrates here; she was a well-known seer. Mithras only knows whether he did or not, but the end result was that her powers of divination were gone and the magistrate was incensed because he lost the income from her soothsaying. He had Paulus and his companion whipped and then thrown into prison for tampering with his property without permission and referred the case to me. I had to decide what to do with the odious little shit; I couldn�
�t execute him because it was not a capital charge and his followers had not yet refused to take the oath to the Emperor. As he had the law on his side I was on the point of letting him go when there was an earthquake, not a big one, but big enough to break open the prison gates and Paulus and his companion were free. Of course, this was seen as divine intervention and proof that Paulus must be favoured by this god who is powerful enough to free him from gaol. However, he didn’t run but stayed in the gaol and demanded that I acknowledge that he had been treated unlawfully. Unfortunately he was right and I had to have the magistrate apologise to him for having him whipped. Once that had happened he left and the gaoler became a follower of his as well as a few score others in the town, some of whom are presently languishing outside the gates. It was terrible. After that he disappeared and I’ve lost all trace of him, although I do know that he was in Thessalonike because I’ve had to nail a few of them up there too. He leaves a trail.’
Gaius’ jowls wobbled with indignation. ‘Then why haven’t you followed it?’
‘Because it’s not continuous; you have to wait to see where the malignancy starts sprouting next and then hope that he hasn’t moved on. He seems to have headed south into Achaea. I’ve warned the Governor, Gallio, about him.’
‘Seneca’s brother?’
‘Yes, but he hasn’t heard even a rumour of him; it looks like we’ve lost him for the time being.’
‘You’re good at losing things at the moment,’ Gaius pointed out.
Sabinus stopped in front of a closed door, understanding exactly what his uncle was alluding to. ‘I was seasick; I couldn’t think straight.’ He turned and barged through the door into a triclinium with a table and couches set for the evening meal. ‘They sent out three ships as a diversion and whilst we were taking them the Parthians rowed by in a fast little liburnian. We didn’t have a hope of catching them.’
Vespasian shrugged, dismissing the explanation as a steward bustled in with Hormus and four slave girls following. ‘Well, it’s got us into a lot of unnecessary trouble and the end result is that I’ve got to go to Armenia.’ He launched into an account of the sequence of events that had followed Sabinus’ failure to deal with the Parthians, as the slave girls took their togas and shoes and then provided them with slippers and washed their hands in preparation for the meal.
‘So what could I possibly know that could prove that Agrippina is behind this?’ Sabinus asked when his brother had finished his tale.
‘Something that links the embassy to her. Something that Uncle and I will recognise. Tell us all you know about them.’
Sabinus scratched his thinning hair and accepted a cup of wine from his steward. ‘Well, the agent said that there were three of them all richly attired as if kings in their own right in order to impress. They were men of influence, their leader was a cousin of Vologases, the Great King of Parthia. They brought gifts of gold, incense and spices for each of the Kings that they met.’
‘What were their names?’
‘There was the Dacian King, Coson, Spargapeithes of the Agathyrsi – they’re Scythians who worship Thracian gods and seem to enjoy dying their hair blue. Then there was Oroles of the Getae and Wisimar of the Bastarnae who are Germanic. And countless chieftains of all the sub-tribes of each nation.’
Vespasian looked at his uncle as the gustatio of six varied dishes was carried in. ‘Do any of the names mean anything to you?’
‘My dear boy, they all sound positively barbarous.’
Magnus, unsurprisingly, looked equally uninspired.
‘Did you ever find out just what was discussed?’
Sabinus shook his head with regret and helped himself to some of the leek and egg salad. ‘No, I couldn’t send the agent back because he insisted on reporting to his real pay-master.’
‘But we don’t know who that is.’
‘Oh, but we do. His pay-master, or mistress actually, is our old friend the former Queen Tryphaena.’
‘Tryphaena! You’re in contact with her?’
‘Not as such; but she does share information with me occasionally. She’s instructed her agents to report things to me if they deem their information to be of interest to Rome. She is very helpful to me.’
‘She is also Agrippina’s cousin,’ Gaius said slowly, his mouth full of semi-chewed sausage.
‘I suppose it’s a connection but it hardly proves that Agrippina set this embassy in motion, and anyway, why would Tryphaena draw it to your attention if she was in league with her cousin?’
‘Because, dear boy, she doesn’t know about the embassy; that must be it. She may be the great-granddaughter of Marcus Antonius but on the other side of her family she is a princess of Pontus.’
‘I thought that she was Thracian.’
Gaius wagged the remains of his sausage at his nephew. ‘She married a Thracian king but she has no Thracian blood; she’s Greek. Her family have provided kings and queens for half the client kingdoms in the Empire and beyond. Her younger brother is King Polemon of Pontus and her elder brother Zenon was also known as King Artaxias, the third of that name, of Armenia.’ Gaius let the last word hang for a few moments as everyone contemplated the significance and wondered if it was just a coincidence. ‘When he died,’ Gaius continued, ‘the Parthians tried to place their own king on the Armenian throne but we wouldn’t accept that so we compromised by having Mithridates, the brother of the Iberian King, crowned instead.’
‘So why would Tryphaena want to replace the uncle with Radamistus the nephew?’
‘Radamistus’ mother is the daughter of Artaxias, Tryphaena’s brother. Mithridates is no relation to her, but Radamistus is her nephew. She’s ensuring that her blood-family remain in control of Armenia.’
‘Then why alert us to the embassy that seems to have triggered this all off?’
‘Because she didn’t know about it. The embassy didn’t trigger the crisis off, it’s just been timed to seem that way. Tryphaena isn’t being disloyal to Rome; if anything she’s securing our position in Armenia by replacing a compromise puppet king with a controllable one. Radamistus will be loyal because Tryphaena will see to it that he is.’
‘So, Narcissus is wrong,’ Sabinus said. ‘Agrippina hasn’t committed treason.’
A smile slowly crept across Vespasian’s face as the truth dawned on him. ‘No, brother, he’s not wrong; far from it. He’s seen a pattern. Tryphaena’s agent that came to you was murdered by an assassin of Agrippina’s on the way to inform his mistress; Narcissus’ freedman Argapetus intercepted the message from the killer. This tells us two things: first, that Agrippina didn’t want Tryphaena to know about the embassy and, second, that Agrippina must have known about it. How else could she have given orders to her people to prevent news of it reaching Tryphaena’s ears?’
Magnus drained his cup and held it out for more. ‘And why didn’t she want Tryphaena to know about it?’
Gaius had followed Vespasian’s logic. ‘Because, Magnus, it would have alerted her to the fact that Agrippina had used her. I would hazard that it was at Agrippina’s suggestion that Tryphaena supported her nephew’s usurpation of the Armenian throne, and I would guess that the timing of it was made to look as if it was sparked by the embassy travelling through Iberia so that we would blame the Parthians and therefore march an army in to restore Mithridates.’
Sabinus looked confused. ‘But you said that Radamistus would be loyal to Rome; why would we want to get rid of him?’
‘This is the clever bit of Agrippina’s plan: Tryphaena suspects nothing, she readily agrees to placing her nephew on the throne; as she sees it, it’s good for her family and good for Rome. But then we see that Radamistus invades from Iberia at exactly the moment that a Parthian embassy is in the kingdom and so we assume that the two things are linked and that it’s a Parthian plot. Meantime, Agrippina manoeuvres Claudius into recalling Rome’s up and coming general, Corbulo, and has him posted to a province close to Armenia. Now play out the scenario, Sabinus.’<
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Sabinus sighed. ‘We demand that Mithridates is restored but we’re probably too late as he would have been murdered along with his family. Then we negotiate with Radamistus, who refuses to go. Parthia sees the new King as too pro-Roman because of his blood-tie with Tryphaena and demands that he is removed, which confuses us so we decide to let matters rest. This will then prompt a military response from Parthia that we will, in turn, have to counter with a proven general who just happens to be in the region, and before we know it we have a war with Parthia.’
Vespasian spread his hands to emphasise the simplicity of the scheme. ‘Exactly; and at the same time the northern tribes swarm over the Danuvius as arranged by the embassy and the situation starts to look very bleak, and who will be blamed? The Emperor; old, drooling, drunk most of the time and not at all popular with the Senate; time for him to go and no one will look too closely if he just suddenly drops down dead. And if he does that soon then there’ll be only one choice to succeed him: Nero. That’s what this is all about: it’s ensuring that Claudius is removed before Britannicus comes of age and blurs the inheritance issue. Nero comes to the throne, Corbulo wins a great victory and Nero, the grandson of the great and martial Germanicus who also famously prevailed in the East, takes the credit, celebrates a Triumph in the first year or so of his reign, making him very popular and securing his position. Brilliant.’
‘So the evidence of Agrippina’s treachery is with Tryphaena,’ Gaius concluded.
‘Yes, we need to talk to her.’
‘She’s at Cyzicus on the Asian coast of the Propontis,’ Sabinus informed them glancing around at the window onto the courtyard; hobnailed boots clattered across at an urgent speed. ‘I’ll organise a ship for you.’
‘Then we can pass by on the way to Armenia.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘Why would you want to do that? You’ll spend the whole voyage vomiting.’
‘I need to talk to her about putting down all resistance in Thracia to Rome once and for all; if we’re threatened by the northern tribes, I cannot afford to have disloyal nobles in the south. She will know who they are, their weaknesses and what to bribe or threaten them with. After we’ve spoken with her you can drop me at Byzantium; it’s time I visited the city and gave it a taste of Roman justice. You can sail on up through the Bosphorus into the Euxine and then along the northern coast of Bithynia to Trapezus in Pontus. From there it’s about two hundred miles over mountainous terrain to Armenia.’
Rome's Lost Son Page 11
