False God of Rome (53 page)

‘Where’s Gaius?’ Vespasian shouted.

All three of them looked around in panic; from behind the capsized boat the old man and his grandson appeared, both swimming strongly. Gaius was not in sight; Vespasian dived. Although neither a
strong nor natural swimmer, desperation lent force and co-ordination to his limbs and he swiftly descended, passing the body of Aenor with blood seeping from an oar-wound to his head. The water was
clear and he soon saw the bulk of his uncle struggling weakly, his eyes bulging with the pressure of holding his breath, but being dragged down by the weight of his toga. He kicked out for him;
Sabinus and Magnus both followed. Grabbing Gaius’ arm he began to haul him up, while Magnus and Sabinus struggled to undrape his toga. As the garment finally came free, Vespasian felt the
drag lessen, but at that moment Gaius gave him a look of agony and copious bubbles of air escaped from his nose and mouth; he convulsed as his lungs filled with water.

Between the three of them they managed to propel Gaius to the surface; as they drew explosive breaths Gaius remained still, his lips pale and his eyes closed.

‘Get him ashore quick,’ Vespasian yelled at his companions.

The old man and his grandson came to their aid and with their strong strokes they dragged Gaius the twenty paces or so to the causeway as fast as they could.

There were many willing hands to help lift the heavy body out of the water as behind them Caligula continued to terrorise the pleasure craft.

Once Gaius had been hauled onto the road, Vespasian turned him onto his stomach letting his head loll down over the edge; water seeped from his mouth. ‘Magnus, remember what you said when
we were dealing with Poppaeus? You have to wait a while before you get the water out of their lungs because they can come back to life.’

Magnus’ face lit up. ‘You’re right, sir,’ he said, getting astride Gaius’ waist and placing his hands on the back of his ribcage.

Vespasian and Sabinus knelt on either side.

‘Ready?’ Magnus said. ‘Now!’ Six hands squeezed the chest in unison. ‘Now!’ Then again. ‘Now!’ And again.

For half a dozen pumps they carried on until a gush of water erupted from Gaius’ mouth; after another couple of pumps came a second, greater, spurt followed by a choking gasp. A single
pump more resulted in a lesser expulsion but the ensuing rasping breath caused Gaius’ eyes to open. With a massive spasm he heaved out the contents of his sea-water-filled stomach and then
took a series of congested gasps as the last of the water sprayed from his lungs. Magnus gave him a couple more pumps and then got off him.

After a few moments Gaius was able to breathe quickly and shallowly but with difficulty. He looked back up at Vespasian uncomprehendingly. ‘I drowned, I remember.’

‘Well, you’re alive again now, Uncle. Perhaps Neptune was worried about how much of his dinner he would have to share with you.’

A look of dismay spread over Gaius’ face. ‘My boys?’

Vespasian shook his head slowly then looked out towards the harbour to where, just next to their capsized boat, two small bodies floated, face down, in the sea.

Whether Caligula tired of providing dinner guests for his brother god or whether he became concerned that if he provided many more his victory feast would be sparsely attended
was uncertain, but soon after Gaius’ recovery he came ashore and ordered everyone to repair to the huge triclinium erected on a peninsula to the north of the bridge.

He was in a cheerful mood as he and Incitatus walked down the causeway, playfully pushing back into the water the occasional senator trying to clamber out of a boat; but, flanked as he was by
his Germans, no one dared touch him. The brooding presence of the Praetorian Guard, still formed up on the bridge, doubly ensured his safety. The Emperor was the only reason they existed, so the
rank and file owed him absolute loyalty and any attempt to assassinate him in such an exposed area would be met with swift and calamitous vengeance: the Senate would be completely annihilated. And
they knew it; as did Caligula.

In recognition of this fact, Caligula delivered a long speech of congratulations to his loyal troops on their stunning victory over the town of Puteoli and promised them a bounty of a
year’s wages when they returned safely to Rome. There was no question of them not ensuring his safety after that.

By mid-afternoon Caligula was leading the Senate down the isthmus to the victory feast. Vespasian and Sabinus walked close behind him with Gaius, still weak from his ordeal and grief but not
daring to leave, limping along, supported by Magnus.

‘Ah, Sabinus,’ Caligula called back, pausing to wait for the Flavians to catch up. ‘I think that the time for your surprise is upon us.’

Sabinus kept his face rigid. ‘You honour me, Divine Gaius.’

‘I know. But I need men I can trust for my year of conquest; I can’t do everything myself, you know.’

‘If you say so, Divine Gaius.’

‘I do. I will need the Ninth Hispana for my expedition to Germania next year so I’m getting rid of the timid imbecile who’s currently commanding and appointing you as its
legate; you served with it as a tribune, I believe.’

Sabinus looked at his Emperor with a mixture of astonishment and gratitude.

Caligula burst into cold laughter. ‘The relief of being honoured and not abused; I knew that I’d enjoy the look on your face after days of apprehension.’

‘I never doubted you, Divine Gaius. How can I repay you?’

Caligula slapped a hand on Sabinus’ shoulder as they approached the high wooden doors of the triclinium. ‘I didn’t know that until yesterday. Now I believe a way will present
itself; perhaps sooner than you think.’

Chaerea was waiting to report to Caligula as the doors were swung open by a couple of slaves.

‘The watchword, Chaerea,’ Caligula said, pushing him aside, ‘is “Eunuch”.’

Vespasian saw the same hatred burn in the Praetorian tribune’s eyes as he passed into the interior but that was soon forgotten as he gazed around and suddenly realised that, although the
day had been chaotic and haphazard, run according to Caligula’s whim, this part had been timed to absolute perfection. The chamber was as vast as it was magnificent; constructed in the same
fashion as the temple with painted wooden columns supporting the roof, it had a feeling of space and airiness. At its far end were doors leading to further rooms; in front of these, a group of
musicians plucked on lyres and blew soaring notes on pipes. All around its marble floor, scores of tables surrounded by couches were set at regular intervals; but what made it so breathtaking was
that cut into the ceiling above each table were small square holes, so positioned that only at this exact time of day would the sun shine down and perfectly hit each table, illuminating only them
and not the couches that surrounded them.

‘Perfect!’ Caligula cried to Callistus who stood, next to Narcissus, with his head bowed just inside the door. ‘Callistus, you’ve done well; I’m minded to reward
you with your freedom.’

Callistus raised his head; his face showed no sign of gratitude at his impending manumission. ‘As you wish, Divine master.’

‘Everything is as I wish.’ Caligula turned to Narcissus. ‘I wish you to see to the comfort of our principal guests, the rest can just recline where they like.’

‘Of course, Divine Gaius,’ the Greek crooned as Caligula brushed past him towards a group of ladies, one holding a baby, waiting by the table of honour at the far end of the room to
greet him. They were escorted by Clemens, Claudius and, of all people, Corvinus.

Narcissus caught Vespasian by the arm as he passed and whispered in his ear. ‘Congratulations on acquiring your new wealth. I haven’t told the Emperor yet; we’ll keep it just
between the two of us for now, shall we?’ He patted him on the shoulder and went off to supervise the senators flooding in through the doors.

‘What did that oily freedman want?’ Sabinus asked, still visibly glowing with pride at his promotion, as they followed Caligula across the floor.

‘Nothing much; just a veiled threat implying that my life is in his hands should Caligula start running out of money.’

‘A distinct possibility should we have another day like this, dear boy,’ Gaius said weakly.

Vespasian looked at the golden platters piled high with exquisite delicacies that slaves had begun to set on the tables as the senators and their wives began to take their places. ‘Someone
has to stop this.’

Gaius slumped down on a couch. ‘I have to admit that if I felt stronger I would do it myself.’

‘Don’t worry, sir,’ Magnus assured him, ‘that feeling will soon pass and your self-preservatory instincts will take over again.’

‘I do hope you’re right, Magnus; somehow I don’t think that I’m nimble enough to wield the assassin’s blade.’

‘Chaerea is,’ Vespasian observed, ‘and with a few more insults like that from Caligula he’ll be ready to. The question is: where will Clemens stand?’ He looked over
at the pasty face of the Praetorian prefect and was shocked by the look of devastation on it; next to him Corvinus stood smiling smugly as Caligula approached the group.

‘Agrippina and Julia Livilla,’ Caligula enthused, greeting his sisters with a kiss apiece, ‘I hope that you have learnt your lessons.’

The two women looked none the worse for their recent ordeal.

‘Yes, dear brother,’ Agrippina replied; her sister just nodded. ‘We are all yours again.’

‘Good, my sweet,’ Caligula said, patting the shock of ginger hair sprouting from the head of the baby she held. ‘How is young Lucius Domitius?’

‘He’s strong and wilful.’

‘He’ll need to be strong if I’m forced to banish you to that barren rock where our mother lived out her last days.’ He gently lifted her chin and kissed her mouth.
‘Please don’t make me do that.’ Without waiting for a reply he turned to the woman next to her. ‘Messalina, your brother, Corvinus, has done me a great service. I look
forward to welcoming you into my family next month – even if it is to marry this buffoon.’ He looked contemptuously at Claudius, who bowed his head, mumbling his thanks at being
noticed.

Messalina smiled, her dark eyes flicked quickly over to Vespasian and held his for an instant while her brother, Corvinus, looked triumphantly at him. Clemens appeared to be struggling to
control himself. All around the room the couches were filling up.

Caligula moved on to the fourth and final woman; she was older than the other three and not at all attractive, having the same long face and nose of her half-brother Corbulo.

‘Caesonia Milonia,’ Caligula said, putting his hand on her stomach, ‘how goes your pregnancy?’

‘I carry the child of a god, Divine Gaius, and it thrives.’

‘Of course; but nevertheless I will rest you for now and take my pleasure elsewhere; but first we shall eat.’

Caligula chewed on a swan leg and waved a dismissive hand at the hundreds of senators reclining at the many tables around the room. ‘Look at them all,’ he confided
disdainfully to Vespasian and Sabinus on the couch next to him. ‘They all hate me now after what I’ve been doing to them in the last couple of years; but what would they give to be here
where you are, next to your Emperor?’

‘You honour us with your favour,’ Vespasian acknowledged, looking at the food on the table in front of him with little appetite.

‘I do; and each one of those sheep is spitting jealous that they aren’t receiving the same treatment. No matter what I do to them they still feign love for me.’

‘It’s not a feigned love, they don’t hate you.’

Caligula looked at Vespasian in amusement. ‘Don’t lie to me, my friend. What do you think I’ve been doing since I became emperor? Ruling justly?’

Vespasian studied Caligula’s face for a moment and was surprised to see his eyes clear and lucid. ‘You have done some great things and next year you will do greater deeds,’ he
replied cautiously, trying to put the massacre that day out of his mind.

‘I have; but the greatest thing that I’ve achieved is to hold a mirror up to the Senate so that they can see themselves for what they really are: sycophants and flatterers who know
no other way to live. All those years of treason trials when they denounced one another in the hope of gaining favour with Augustus, Tiberius or Sejanus and in the knowledge that if they brought a
successful prosecution they would gain the estate of their victim has left them morally bankrupt. It also cost me most of my family and I’m honour bound to avenge them.’

Vespasian and Sabinus looked at each other, both startled that Caligula was confiding in them in a way that had a hint of truth in it.

‘These humiliations have been all about revenge?’ Sabinus asked.

Caligula smiled coldly. ‘Naturally. You see, Vespasian, your brother is not dissembling now; you should try it. Do you think I’m mad?’

The answer stuck in Vespasian’s throat; either way he would condemn himself.

‘Answer! And answer truthfully. Do you think that I’m mad?’

‘Yes, I do, Divine Gaius.’

Caligula burst out laughing but the humour did not reach his eyes. ‘My friend, well done, you are the first person who has told me the truth even though you fear for your life. Of course
you think I’m mad, who wouldn’t? And perhaps I am or perhaps I just have no desire for self-control. However, by each seemingly mad act I humiliate the Senate even more; I want to see
how low they will stoop and yet still try to flatter me in the hope of favour. As I lay sick, each day they came to my door having offered prayers and sacrifices for my recovery and I knew that
they only wanted news of my death. So I decided to make them crawl, make them do what no Roman has ever done: worship a living god. And look at them, they do. But I’m no god; they know that
I’m not, and, furthermore, they also know that I know that they know it, and yet we all now maintain the pretence. Even you pretend to my face that I’m a god, don’t
you?’

Vespasian swallowed. ‘Yes, Divine Gaius.’

‘Of course you do, you have to preserve yourself. I’m the most powerful man in the world and what is power if you don’t flaunt it? People worship those who hold it out of a
desire to be shown favour. It’s deliciously amusing. Do you remember that idiot who offered his life in exchange for mine? He expected reward for such sycophancy but I took him at his word.
But then I rewarded with a million sesterces the liar who swore that he saw Drusilla’s spirit rise into the heavens to commune with the gods, so now they don’t know what to do. Sheep!
I’ll push them and push them because I can and it pleases and amuses me to do so.’