‘He tried to do that but has been persuaded otherwise.’
‘By the Guard at the points of their swords?’
‘No, Secundus, by me.’
‘You!’ Pomponius Secundus almost choked and had to slap his chest as he stared with disbelief at Herod Agrippa sitting serenely before him in his gold-embroidered, purple robe and kingly golden diadem.
‘Well, someone had to.’
‘Someone did not have to,’ the Senior Consul exploded, ‘especially you; a greasy little, eastern client king who can’t even bring himself to eat pork like any self-respecting Roman should.’
‘I think that was the final bit of information that I needed to make a decision, Uncle,’ Vespasian said out of the corner of his mouth.
Gaius nodded his head sagely. ‘I’ve just become an ardent supporter of Claudius. I always thought that he was the best man for the job, a natural leader.’
Herod Agrippa remained unruffled by this outburst. ‘This greasy little, eastern client king – who, by the way, enjoys pork very much – took it into his own hands today to save your idiotic necks because I could see that the outcome was inevitable; unlike some people. I followed Claudius to the Praetorian camp and I was there when the Guard proclaimed Claudius emperor. However, Claudius thought it unconstitutional for the Guard to elevate him to the Purple—’
Gnaeus Sentius Saturninus jumped to his feet, bursting with latent Republican indignation. ‘It’s absolutely unconstitutional, only the Senate can do that!’
Herod Agrippa smiled placidly. ‘Yes, that was Claudius’ view, even though the Guard proved otherwise by killing one emperor and replacing him with another. Claudius was very keen – insistent even – that the Senate should proclaim him emperor immediately he was taken to the camp; he wanted his elevation to have at least the appearance of it being requested by this House. He waited for hours but heard nothing from you. Instead you sat up here on treasury strongboxes, scheming and plotting – what about, he could only guess. However, he knew that one thing was for sure: the fact that you hesitated to make him emperor meant that you didn’t want him.’
‘We never said that,’ Pomponius Secundus stated flatly.
‘Don’t demean yourself by lying to me. Every word of what has been discussed up here has recently been reported to Claudius by a few senators, including one of the praetors, anxious to stress that it was nothing to do with them but, strangely, begging for his forgiveness anyway.
‘From my understanding of it the only one of you who has come out of this reasonably well is Aulus Plautius.’ Herod smiled thinly at the gathering as each man tried to remember exactly what positions he had held in the debates that afternoon. ‘Once your silence had deafened him for a few hours, Claudius decided that it might be best, for his own safety, to step down before things started to escalate into an armed confrontation. I persuaded him not to, arguing that that would be akin to signing his and all your death warrants; his freedmen agreed. So he accepted the Guard’s acclamation and showed his thanks by promising a donative of one hundred and fifty gold aurei per man.’ There were soft whistles of incredulity. ‘He now feels very safe and intends to stay as emperor. Face it, gentlemen, by your failure to take the initiative and quickly accept the inevitable you have allowed the Guard and Claudius to create a very nasty precedent: from now on the Guard can make emperors and the emperors will pay handsomely for them to do so. You’ve just lost what little power remained to you.’
Cossus Cornelius Lentulus, the Urban prefect, got to his feet. ‘I’ve heard enough, I’m taking the cohorts to swear loyalty to Claudius.’
‘You can’t do that,’ the Junior Consul called, ‘they’re meant to be protecting the Senate.’
‘From what? The Senate has just become irrelevant,’ Lentulus barked. ‘And even if the Guard were to come to attack the Senate with an emperor at their head do you think my men will fight? Bollocks they will.’ He turned and walked out.
Gaius looked at Vespasian; they came to a swift mutual agreement. ‘We’ll come with you, Lentulus,’ Vespasian called as he and Gaius stood up.
There was a chorus of similar calls as the senators rose to their feet.
Following the Urban prefect to the door, Vespasian glanced at Herod Agrippa who frowned as their eyes met; then a half-smile of understanding seeped over his face.
As Vespasian passed, the Judaean King turned back to Secundus. ‘Would you still like me to lead that delegation, Senior Consul?’ he asked innocently, above the noise.
Pomponius Secundus scowled at him and stormed from the temple.
The streets of Rome were almost deserted as the Senate led the Urban Cohorts up the Vicus Patricius towards the Viminal Gate, beyond which was situated the Praetorian camp. As one of the main brothel streets in Rome, its pavements would normally be crowded at any time of the day or night; but this evening business was very slow. There was not even a single cart or wagon, forbidden to enter the city during the day, rumbling along the road taking advantage of night-time delivery hours. The common people of Rome had mostly locked their doors and closed their shutters as they waited for the power struggle to be played out so that life could get back to normal and they could be safe in the knowledge that somebody – and they cared not who – was in charge of distributing the grain dole and financing the games.
Passing under the Viminal Gate, Vespasian took a deep intake of breath; before them, a hundred paces away, lined across the front of the Praetorian camp, stood three cohorts of the Guard in full arms. The burnished iron of their helmets and scale armour and the bronze of the rims and bosses of their oval shields reflected the guttering torchlight. At their centre, on a raised dais, sat the new Emperor; the few senators who had already offered their allegiance to him stood to either side.
On the dais, behind Claudius, Vespasian recognised Claudius’ freedmen, Narcissus and Pallas, as well as Caligula’s erstwhile freedman Callistus; all three wore citizens’ plain white togas.
‘I’ll go first,’ Herod Agrippa told the two Consuls who were showing a reluctance to go forward although each was escorted by twelve lictors bearing fasces, the bundle of rods tied around an axe symbolising the magistrates’ power.
The Consuls both nodded and, despite the loss of dignitas, allowed themselves to be preceded by a client king.
Upon drawing closer, Vespasian could see an amused look play on Narcissus’ pudgy face as he stroked his oiled, pointed black beard with a stubby hand, heavy with bejewelled rings. He had always served Claudius, and Vespasian knew that he had been responsible for keeping his master safe during the reigns of Tiberius and Caligula by encouraging him, although little encouragement was needed, to play the fool; for him, today was the vindication of that policy. Pallas, tall, slim and full-bearded, betrayed, as ever, no emotion; he had served Vespasian’s late patron, the Lady Antonia, but upon her death had transferred his allegiance to her son Claudius, as the eldest surviving male in her family. Vespasian tried but failed to catch his eye, hoping that their past acquaintance, friendship even, would still count for something. The shaven-headed, wiry Callistus was not so well known to Vespasian although he had met him on a few occasions, firstly as Caligula’s slave and then as his freedman. How he had transferred his loyalty to Claudius before Caligula’s assassination, just in time to save himself, Vespasian did not know. It did not, however, surprise him, as the one thing he did appreciate about the three men who now stood behind the Emperor was that they were all consummate politicians; not public demagogues but private intriguers with a subtle and accomplished understanding of imperial politics.
When Herod Agrippa was ten paces from the dais a sharp command followed by the deep rumble of a cornu, the horn usually used for signalling on the battlefield, led to three thousand blades being simultaneously unsheathed. The Consuls stopped abruptly.
‘The Senate and the Urban Cohorts have come to swear allegiance to the Emperor,’ Herod Agrippa shouted and then swiftly stepped aside.
&nbs
p; ‘And ab-b-bout time,’ Claudius yelled at the senators; saliva sprayed from his mouth and his left arm shook uncontrollably as it gripped the arm of his curule chair. ‘I wanted you to make me e-e-e-emperor in a constitutional manner; instead we have a situation whereby my first issue of coinage is going to have my head on the front and “emperor, thanks to the P-P-P-Praetorian Guard” on the back and not “thanks to the Senate and People of Rome”. Why did you delay? Didn’t you want a cripple for your emperor?’
‘That never crossed our minds, Princeps,’ Pomponius Secundus lied.
Claudius held up his right hand and Narcissus unravelled a scroll and, after a small pause for effect, started reading: ‘“Not only does Claudius stutter and drool and stumble in a way that would bring dishonour to the dignity of government but also he is not known to, and therefore not loved by, the legions.”’ Narcissus lowered the scroll and his eyebrows raised a fraction as he met Pomponius Secundus’ bewildered gaze.
Claudius turned to a senator, in his early thirties, standing close to the dais. ‘That is what he said, isn’t it, Geta?’
‘It was, Princeps, word for word,’ Gnaeus Hosidius Geta replied, looking smug. ‘I was ashamed that a consul of Rome could state such untruths about …’
‘Yes, yes, that’s e-e-enough. No need to overdo it, praetor.’ Claudius jerked his attention back to the mortified Consul. ‘Can you think of one reason why I should not have you executed? In fact, can anyone think of one reason why I shouldn’t have the whole S-S-Senate executed?’
‘Because you wouldn’t have anyone worthwhile left to dominate, Princeps?’ Herod Agrippa suggested.
There was a moment’s stunned silence before Claudius exploded with laughter. ‘Ah Herod, you do cheer me up, my friend.’
Herod smirked and bowed extravagantly, his hands upon his chest.
Claudius acknowledged the gesture and then turned back, his face set rigid again with displeasure, to the Senior Consul. ‘As to the army n-n-not knowing or loving m-m-me, you are mistaken. I am the brother of the great G-G-G-Germanicus; they will love me as they loved him because I will love them as he did. I will …’ Behind him Narcissus subtly pressed a hand on his shoulder and Claudius immediately fell silent. Pallas bent down to whisper in his ear.
‘I think we’re getting a foretaste of what is to come,’ Vespasian mused. ‘But at least we can still consider Pallas to be a friend.’
Gaius frowned. ‘Let’s hope so, although past friendships can’t always be counted upon when the political landscape changes. How are you with Narcissus? Has he forgiven you for cashing that bankers’ draft of Claudius’ whilst you were in Alexandria?’
‘He owes me a couple of large favours but I assume that cancels one of them out.’
Claudius nodded at his freedman as Pallas stood back up, having given his advice, and then struggled to his feet to indicate that the impromptu audience was at an end. ‘I shall retire to bed now; you will attend me tomorrow at the second hour and lead me to the Forum where you will announce your unanimous decision to endorse the will of the Guard; then you will swear allegiance to me in the Senate House. I expect all of you to be there. Now go!’
Claudius was helped down from the dais by Narcissus; Callistus and Pallas tried to outdo one another in courtesy by offering the other the honour of being next down the steps before descending together. The senators and the Urban Cohorts broke out into a series of ‘hail Caesars’, whilst the Guard, in two swift motions, sheathed their drawn swords and then snapped to a resounding attention.
Claudius disappeared into the ranks of his now very wealthy Praetorians and the senators turned to go.
‘Well, that went as well as we could have expected,’ Gaius observed.
Vespasian grimaced. ‘I don’t think that we can expect too much favour from the new regime. We should have gambled, like Geta and those others, and got here to offer our loyalty before we were forced to. Once the Guard supported him it was inevitable, as Herod Agrippa said.’
‘I’m so glad that you appreciate my wisdom,’ a voice oozed from just behind Vespasian’s ear.
Vespasian turned and looked into the cold smile on Herod Agrippa’s face.
‘Claudius’ freedmen appreciated it too; so much so in fact that they’re going to recommend to Claudius that he confirms me in my kingdom and makes a couple of very lucrative additions to it. Would you like to know why?’
Vespasian shrugged. ‘Do we need to?’
‘You don’t need to, but it just might interest you all the same. You see, not only have I helped Claudius secure his position for the present, thereby making his freedmen very influential; but I’ve also advised Narcissus and Pallas on how to hang onto their power by instituting a new precedent to discourage the Guard from making a habit of changing emperors. Did you see your friend Clemens in his rightful place as Praetorian prefect next to the Emperor? Or for that matter his tribunes, Cassius Chaerea and Cornelius Sabinus? No, of course you didn’t.’
Vespasian was unimpressed. ‘They signed their own death warrants by killing Caligula.’
‘Of course, although Claudius unwisely wanted to spare them, reward them even; especially after they claimed to have done some deal with Narcissus and Pallas, brokered by that weasel Callistus. Naturally Narcissus, Pallas and Callistus have denied all knowledge of this because, as you have just intimated, it wouldn’t do to have people assassinating emperors and surviving. However, my refinement was to take it a step further.’ Herod Agrippa paused for a moment of self-appreciatory reflection. ‘The second Praetorian prefect, Lucius Arruntius Stella, who wasn’t part of the plot, has also been arrested. I suggested to Narcissus and Pallas that perhaps it would be a good thing if, in future, the prefects realised that an important element of their duties is to keep an eye on their colleagues. Narcissus and Pallas thought that was an excellent idea and so Stella is going to be executed along with all the conspirators.’ Herod Agrippa thrust his face closer to Vespasian’s and looked at him with mock innocence. ‘And by the way, I intend to make sure that it will be all of them.’
CHAPTER II
CAENIS LAID HER head on Vespasian’s chest and traced the outline of his well-toned pectoral muscles with a slender finger, working her way slowly down his stomach. ‘It’s an empty threat, my love; there’s no way that Herod Agrippa can link you to Caligula’s assassins.’
Vespasian kissed her full, black curls, savouring their sweet scent, and then stared up at the dim, whitewashed ceiling of their bedroom. They lay in the house that Antonia, Caenis’ former owner, had gifted her, along with her manumission, on the day she opened her veins. The first rays of dawn seeped into the room as, outside, a dove cooed – a soft, reassuring sound. He took a deep breath and sighed. He had not had any sleep in the few short hours they had been in bed: too troubled about what Herod Agrippa had meant. ‘Sabinus is married to Clemens’ sister; that links me strongly to him. Perhaps Herod is just speculating.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘Vengeance for Antonia having him imprisoned six years ago; it was Sabinus who read out her evidence to the Senate.’
‘Then he should take his revenge on Sabinus.’
‘Sabinus is hundreds of miles away; perhaps he feels that his younger brother will do.’
‘That’s not revenge, it’s just malice.’
Vespasian grunted with satisfaction as her hand moved even lower, massaging and kneading gently. ‘I also witnessed his humiliation in Alexandria and told the then prefect of Egypt, Flaccus, about his illegal stockpile of grain.’
‘How would he know that it was you who told Flaccus? Besides he’s had vengeance for his lost grain two years ago; it was his damning letter to Caligula supporting the Alexandrian Jews’ embassy complaining about Flaccus that got him executed. No, my love, this is nothing but an empty threat.’ She began working her hand more vigorously whilst playing on a nipple with the tip of her tongue.
Vespasian found himself relaxing for the first tim
e since his confrontation with Herod Agrippa. ‘Now that Caligula is finally dead,’ he murmured, stroking her hair, ‘it will be safe for you to go out in public.’
‘Perhaps I prefer staying in.’ Caenis’ attention left his nipple and she began to kiss her way down his chest.
Vespasian pushed back the blankets and adjusted his position. In the thin dawn light her smiling, blue eyes gleamed as she looked back up at him, working her way ever lower.
A soft knock on the door interrupted her progress.
‘Mistress?’ a voice quietly called.
‘What is it?’ Caenis replied, not attempting to hide her irritation at the interruption.
‘There’s a man here to see the master.’
‘Can’t it wait?’
‘No, he says it’s urgent.’
Caenis looked back to Vespasian. ‘Sorry, my love, perhaps we should reconvene later.’
Vespasian smiled ruefully. ‘It wouldn’t have taken long.’ He swung his legs over her and sat on the side of the bed. ‘Tell him I’m coming,’ he called out, grinning at Caenis; she giggled. ‘What’s this man’s name?’
‘He said to say it’s your friend Magnus, master.’
‘Didn’t interrupt anything did I, sir?’ Magnus asked with a look of false concern on his battered, ex-boxer’s face as Vespasian sauntered into the atrium fastening his belt.
‘As a matter of fact you did; something rather enjoyable.’
‘I expect most things that go on in that room are enjoyable.’
Vespasian smiled at his friend. ‘Only if Caenis is involved, which she was.’
‘Yeah well, I’m sorry to have curtailed her involvement, however deep it was, if you take my meaning?’
‘I do and you’re wrong, we were involved in a different way.’
Magnus’ eyes widened with delight. ‘Ah, a nice early morning wash, how kind of her. Well, your ablutions are going to have to wait for later. We’ve got to get round to your uncle’s house.’
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