Masters of Rome (29 page)

‘Very wise, sir; he'll have a good idea of how things stand between the imperial family and yours.'

Vespasian steadied himself on the rail as the trireme nudged the dock. ‘And, more to the point, how I can expect to be received by Rome's true masters.'

‘I wouldn't worry about that; Sabinus has been nominated as consul and I'm sure that Claudius didn't do that without his freedmen's consent. So I'd imagine that you're in their favour.'

‘You'd think so, wouldn't you? But what I also need to know is whether Messalina and Corvinus made any objections to Sabinus' appointment, because if there's one thing that I must do for sure it's to find some way of getting Corvinus into my debt. Only once I've done that will I stand a chance of getting Flavia and the children out of the palace and into the relative safety of my own home in Rome.'

‘Oh, so you've finally got one now, have you?'

Vespasian watched the gangplank being lowered and Hormus make his way down and through the crowd of vendors. ‘I don't know; I wrote to Gaius from Aventicum asking him to find me something suitable near him on the Quirinal.'

‘And near Caenis.'

‘Well, yes; it would make matters simpler all round.'

‘I wouldn't describe moving my wife into a house that's been chosen for its proximity to my mistress as “making matters simpler all round”.'

‘How would you describe it then?'

‘As the complete opposite, and the action of a madman; especially when you consider that your mother is living with your
uncle. Are you seriously going to put all the women in your life close enough to each other to fight on a daily basis?'

‘But Caenis and Flavia get on very well.'

‘Whilst you were away they did; but now that you're back they're going to be vying with one another for your attention – as will your mother. And when that sort of competition arises whoever's winning will make the other two deeply jealous; until, that is, they get tired of fighting and realise that you're the cause of it and they unite against you as their common enemy – which will probably happen on a monthly basis.'

Vespasian's face became even more strained. ‘I hadn't thought about it like that; still, it's too late, it's done now.' He tried to lighten his expression. ‘I guess I'll just have to spend a lot of time concentrating on getting more money out of the estates.'

‘What? And leave the women unsupervised with none of them getting any attention? That really would be the act of the rashest of fools.'

‘And what makes you such an expert on women all of a sudden? You don't even have one of your own.'

‘It's because I'm an expert on the subject that I've chosen never to get embroiled with one on any basis more permanent than an exchange of coinage and bodily fluids.'

‘Very romantic!'

‘It may not be romantic but it certainly does make matters simpler all round.'

Hormus' reappearance on the quay walking next to a four-wheeled, two-horse open carriage took Vespasian's mind off his complicated domestic situation. Having made his farewells to the trierarchus, whom he left muttering about tight-fisted senators having not given him a tip, Vespasian descended the gangplank behind Magnus, who proceeded to clear a path through the sweating traders and sickly-sweet-perfumed whores without any consideration for their ability to remain upright. Hormus followed with the baggage as best he could through the now irate crowd who saw him as an easy target for their indignant wrath; he had a few fresh bruises on his arms and legs before he
managed to stow the baggage on the rear of the carriage and take his place perched atop it.

Vespasian leant back in his seat, stretching his legs as the driver whipped his charges into reluctant action, again without any consideration for the ability of those nearby to get out of the way; the carriage did a hundred and eighty degree turn and headed off down the quay bustling with dock-slaves loading and off-loading goods from all corners of the Empire. Upon reaching the end it turned left onto the waterfront, heading towards the arterial road that would take them to the main gate and onto the Via Ostiensis, at the same time as a party preceded by lictors turned the corner coming in the opposite direction.

‘I wonder who that is?' Vespasian mused, counting the fasces, the bundle of rods tied around an axe that symbolised the magistrates' power. ‘Eleven lictors – so it's a proconsul on his way to his province.'

‘Poor sod has probably been sent somewhere terrible,' Magnus said with a grin, ‘but is so pompous that he thinks it's an honour.'

‘It is an honour, wherever you get sent to govern.'

Magnus' eyes widened as the party came nearer and he could make out their features. ‘But this one's so pompous you could send him to govern Hades and he'd still puff up with pomposity.'

‘Germania Inferior,' Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo replied in answer to Vespasian's question. ‘It's a great honour and a challenge; I was specifically chosen for my military abilities.' He snorted in contentment and looked down his long nose at Vespasian as they sat under a hastily erected awning on the waterfront, sipping a fine Falernian wine broken out from Corbulo's extensive baggage.

Vespasian suppressed a smile as he studied his old acquaintance's haughty, horse-like face; it had seemed middle-aged even when they had first met in Thracia when they had been military tribunes together in the IIII Scythica. Now, over twenty years later, it was as if his age had finally caught up with his appearance. ‘Do you believe that you'll get much fighting?'

‘Without a doubt; now that our presence on the Rhenus has been weakened by the …' He dropped his voice and looked
conspiratorially at Vespasian. ‘Shall we say “ill-conceived” invasion of Britannia?'

Vespasian inclined his head. ‘Just between us two we could use that term.'

‘Indeed, Vespasian. And also, just between us two, our weakened presence on the Rhenus has caused a few of the tribes across the river to think that they no longer have to pay their annual tribute.'

‘I see; and you've been ordered to make them think otherwise?'

‘A great honour, don't you think?' He paused for another snort of contentment. ‘Now that the stain on my character left by my wanton half-sister's lustful cavortings as Caligula's wife has been removed I'm finally free to carry on my career.'

‘I had heard that there was a price for the removal of that stain.'

‘What? You have good ears. But you're right: I had to threaten to bring a prosecution.'

‘Against Corvinus?'

‘You are well informed, seeing as it came to nothing.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, last year Pallas asked me to prepare a case against Corvinus, in secret, accusing him of treason during the ill-conceived invasion. This I did despite the fact that I had to work in conjunction with that arrogant young puppy, Lucius Paetus; he would have been the star witness who could attest to Corvinus exceeding his orders in pushing further north of the Tamesis than he should have. Pallas managed to have Paetus come first in the quaestor elections so the little snob was made an Urban quaestor like his father before him, which would have given his testimony added weight.'

‘But he never had to testify.'

‘No, that was the strange thing.' Corbulo lowered his voice even more and leant towards Vespasian. ‘Now, I try not to take too close an interest in imperial politics and I certainly never gossip about the subject but I'm not unaware of what the Empress is like, having been … well, you know.'

‘I'm afraid I don't know, Corbulo.'

‘Well, sucked into her circle, as it were.' A repeated harsh bleat, much like a ram in distress, followed by yet another snort indicated to Vespasian, who knew the signs, that Corbulo had essayed humour.

‘You as well, Corbulo, surely not?'

‘No one has any choice in the matter; if the Empress summons you then obviously you have to obey. Then if she demands that you perform certain acts, only a suicidal fool would refuse. But it is very difficult to refuse her anything; such is the power of her allure that most people would find themselves unable to resist her even if their lives were not under threat. My wife was very displeased.'

‘You didn't tell her, did you?'

‘Of course I did; a Roman senator should share everything with his wife.'

‘I would differ on that.'

‘But then you're a New Man, Vespasian, and can't be expected to act with the same code of honour as those of us who come from far older families.'

Vespasian ignored the insult knowing that it was not meant as such but, rather, as a bald statement of fact based on Corbulo's patrician view of the world. ‘So the Empress is as promiscuous as the rumours would suggest?'

‘Worse than the rumours, believe me, she made me … Well, no matter; suffice it to say that my eyes watered more than once. Anyway, for obvious reasons Claudius' freedmen are trying to remove her and this court case was to be a step in that direction by disgracing her brother. At the end of last year I finally showed the case to Narcissus, Pallas and Callistus once I'd assembled all the evidence, and both Narcissus and Pallas were very impressed.'

‘But Callistus, in his capacity as secretary to the courts, dismissed it as being too flimsy?'

‘How do you know?'

‘Just a guess, Corbulo.'

‘Well, it was a very good one. That's exactly what happened; he tore it up and left the room saying that to get rid of this harpy was going to take more than the feeble work of a … Well, I won't
say what he called me as I didn't deign to acknowledge the little man's insult. I expected Narcissus and Pallas to be furious with me, although it offends my dignitas to worry about ex-slaves' feelings, but, on the contrary, they were very pleased and promised to ensure that the Emperor appointed me Governor of Germania Inferior seeing as I was obviously the right choice.'

‘And no one tried to block the appointment?'

‘Not to my knowledge.'

‘Now that is interesting.'

‘Is it? Anyway, I've told you this in confidence as an old er … er, person that I've known for a long time, to illustrate just how precarious patronage is in Rome under Claudius. My advice is to avoid contact with the Empress and Claudius' freedmen until their feud has been played out one way or another because until then it'll be very difficult to judge who to cultivate for advancement.'

‘Thanks for the advice, Corbulo; however, I think that you've confirmed for me who, happily, has the ascendancy.' Vespasian drained his cup; Corbulo signalled to a slave attending them to refill it but Vespasian held up his hand, getting to his feet. ‘I should be getting on; I want to be in the city well before nightfall.'

‘Quite so. I'm pleased to have seen you, albeit briefly. I believe your brother is to become suffect-consul next month?'

‘He is.'

‘Astounding, really, isn't it? Second generation senators becoming consuls; where will it all end?'

‘With pompous arseholes becoming governors,' Magnus muttered not entirely to himself as he came forward to pick up Vespasian's folding chair. ‘Silly me, they've been doing that for ages.'

Corbulo bristled, rising to his feet, but refused to acknowledge the words of someone so far beneath him. ‘I wish you luck, Vespasian; no doubt you will be nominated as a consul in these strange times.'

Vespasian grinned, taking Corbulo's proffered arm. ‘I fully intend to be; if only for the look on your face when you have to give way to me in the street.'

Corbulo shook his head in regret. ‘Indebted to freedmen, ordered about by lewd women and surpassed by New Men; I'm thoroughly looking forward to getting back to the certainties of a military camp.'

‘And I'm sure the men will welcome you, knowing how much they love strict discipline.'

Corbulo looked wistful. ‘Yes, at least in the legions decent ancient Roman values still prevail.'

Rome stood before them, her cluttered skyline glowing in the warm evening sun and crowned with a pall of thin, brown haze: the fumes of countless cooking fires, forges, tanneries and bakers' ovens.

Vespasian stared with greedy eyes at the mistress of the world lying languidly on her seven hills, open to all who wished to enter her and share in her pleasures, her wealth and her power, provided they honour her. ‘Six years is too long to be away.'

Magnus roused himself from the slouched doze into which he had been falling sporadically throughout the twenty-mile journey from Ostia. ‘Mmm? Yes, I suppose so; six years is a long time. However, I've only been away for just over two and I'm wondering whether that's enough, if you take my meaning?'

‘I'm sure that my uncle would have done everything within his power to sort out that misunderstanding over the burnt-out tenements.'

‘I hope so; but it'll have cost him a few denarii in blood money and bribes so he'll be wanting a good return on his investment. I reckon that I'm going to be very busy for him.'

‘And I reckon that you're right; with Sabinus consul this could be a very good few months for the family.'

‘It's always helpful to have a tame consul.'

Vespasian glanced at the long row of granaries lining the Via Ostiensis, blocking off the view of the Tiber, to his left. ‘And with reports of a good harvest the city should be peaceful and very conducive to business. I intend to make a lot of money.'

The carriage slowed as beggars gathered around it, thrusting their bowls, clutched in filthy fingers or between stumps, towards
Vespasian, attracted by the broad purple senatorial stripe on his toga. A couple of lashes of the driver's whip cleared the path and the carriage moved on towards the Porta Trigemina in the shade of the Aventine, rising up on the other side of the Servian Walls to their right.