Masters of Rome (40 page)

Corvinus shook his head and wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘Let's just say that a good time to probe a person's secrets is whilst lying face to face on the same pillow.'

Vespasian's fist lashed towards Corvinus' face, crashing into his jaw with a hollow thump. ‘I don't believe you!'

Taking a step back to soak up the impact, Corvinus shook his head and exhaled with a couple of long puffs before resuming his haughty sneer and looking down his nose at Vespasian. ‘You really do have rustic manners: upsetting a dying man's last dinner, bumpkin, is vulgar.' He raised his hands to indicate to the company that the altercation was at an end and then nodded at Asiaticus who managed to give a thin smile. ‘Believe what you like but the fact is that your wife is in the best position in all of Rome to know Messalina's mind because, as opposed to the rest of her lovers, who are transient whims, Flavia is a regular in her bed. The only other person who shares that honour is Gaius Silius, but I doubt that he'd be a party to Messalina's plans – he's merely an insignificant nobody who just happens to be extremely good-looking and well built. So you have to tell your wife to carry on being unfaithful to you; you never know, you might find the thought of it rather titillating once you get used to it. Now, you gave your word to the man whose death you're partly responsible for – are you going to keep it?'

‘And if I don't?'

‘Then you have even less honour than the little I credited you with before and I'll have to resort to threatening the wellbeing of your wife and children.'

Vespasian glanced over to the dying Asiaticus and felt himself deflate; he could not go back on his word and Corvinus knew it. He could tell by the expression on his old enemy's face that
Corvinus was enjoying using him to save himself but there was nothing he could do to resist him. ‘I'll speak to Narcissus and he'll see you at the Temple of Jupiter.'

‘And you'll have spoken to Flavia by then?'

Vespasian took a deep breath. ‘Yes.'

Corvinus nodded with grim satisfaction. ‘You've made a wise decision, bumpkin; once Messalina's gone, Flavia and your children will be free to leave the palace and we'll be square once and for all.'

‘No, Corvinus, we won't.'

‘You'd be a foolish man not to accept those terms.'

‘And you'd be a foolish man to think that I would.'

‘Have it your own way. Now, out of politeness to Asiaticus, we should recline and finish the meal.'

But eating was the last thing on Vespasian's mind.

CHAPTER XVI

V
ESPASIAN OPENED HIS
eyes to see the familiar whitewashed ceiling of Caenis' bedroom. Rolling over he found himself to be alone but that did not surprise him as it was well past dawn; the sun shone through the opaque glass window above him with a soft, diffused light that he found calming after the events of the previous day.

He had picked at the remainder of the meal in silence, unable and unwilling to converse further with Corvinus and uninterested in the forced conversation of the other guests as they waited for their host to meet the ferryman. The blood finally drained from Asiaticus' wrist and he began his last journey across the Styx. With a coin under his tongue as payment for Charon he was borne to his pyre and his body was consumed without damage to his beloved apricot trees.

Vespasian had left as soon as the fire had taken hold and had made his way to the open arms of Caenis. Enfolded in them, he had lost himself in the one thing that he knew that he could trust: her love. They had barely spoken as they re-explored each other's bodies for the first time since saying goodbye on the northern coast of Gaul, four years ago, on the eve of the invasion of Britannia. Finally satiated, they had fallen asleep and Vespasian had found peace: a peace that, as the door opened and Caenis appeared fully dressed with a cup of warmed wine, he knew would soon be broken.

‘Don't you have slaves to bring wine?' he asked, enjoying the sight of her sapphire-blue eyes shining in the soft light.

‘I used to be a slave and I haven't forgotten how to please.'

‘And you did that very well last night.'

She handed him the cup and sat on the bed. ‘So did you.'

He put his hand around the back of her head, feeling the softness of her raven-black hair and drew her into a kiss, bathing in the musk of her scent.

‘I let you sleep, my love,' Caenis said, breaking off after a few tender moments, ‘because I can tell that you are troubled. Narcissus dictated his account of Asiaticus' hearing to me yesterday; I assume it's about what Pallas forced you to do?'

‘It's much more than that, my love; much, much more.' He raised his head with his eyes closed, breathed deeply and then looked into Caenis' eyes. ‘Since I was given the Second Augusta, six years ago, I've been used to command; I've made decisions for me and the men below me. For the four years that I was in Britannia my legion worked as an independent unit. Yes, I had orders from Aulus Plautius as to what objective I was to achieve in the campaign season, but it was I who decided how best to effect them and everybody obeyed me. That's what I've become used to. But now, after just a couple of days back in Rome, I have no control any more; I've been forced into situations that I don't want to be in by people who I don't want to be involved with, just like when I was younger. Back then I accepted it because I had no choice if I wanted to rise in this city.

‘Now, however, I've risen. By rights I'll be consul when I'm forty-two in four years' time, the highest honour a man from my station can aspire to; and yet look at me, I'm being used as if I was a mere boy on his first trip to Rome rather than a man who commanded one of Rome's legions in the biggest military operation since Germanicus crossed the Rhenus to avenge Varus' lost legions. I'm being blown this way and that by forces fighting each other to gain as much personal advantage as they can in the shadow of a weak emperor. I'm sick of it already. I want to get out, but if I want that consulship, which, for my honour and that of my family's, I do with all my being, then I have to stay here and let myself be subjected to the will of others because that's how it works in the Rome we live in.'

Caenis stroked his cheek. ‘We all have to accept that our society works because it is a strict hierarchy, my love, just as the
men under your command accepted their positions; the legion is just a smaller version of Rome.'

‘No it's not; no one plays politics in the legion. In the legion every man knows exactly where he stands, be he me, the newest recruit or the lowliest slave. Here, one's standing changes by the hour.'

‘Tell me what's happened, my love.'

And then it all tumbled out: Corvinus, Messalina, Flavia, Pallas and Narcissus, all of whom Caenis knew and understood thanks, mainly, to her position as secretary to Narcissus, the imperial secretary.

‘Corvinus would carry out his threat against Flavia and the children, I'm sure of it,' Caenis said once Vespasian had finished. ‘He knows that Narcissus has never forgiven him for trying to hijack the invasion for his own personal gain so he's fighting for his life. He has nothing to lose.'

‘So what do I do?'

‘You have to do what he's asked and tell Flavia to carry on sleeping with Messalina.'

‘Does she really do that?'

Caenis' full lips pursed and she gave a little shrug. ‘What can I say, my love? I don't know; she certainly wouldn't confide that sort of information to me – or anybody for that matter. But why would Corvinus tell you such a thing unless it was true?'

Vespasian was not surprised by this confirmation but resolutely pushed the information aside. There was no point delving deeper until he could confront Flavia. ‘And will Narcissus consent to meet with Corvinus?'

‘Narcissus never refuses any opportunity to strengthen his position. You'll have to see him today as he's leaving with Claudius tomorrow morning to inspect the construction work in the new port and won't be back until the day before Plautius' Ovation.' She cocked her head and added innocently, ‘And I won't charge you for the access.'

Vespasian was astonished. ‘You charge people for appointments to see Narcissus?'

Caenis raised her eyebrows conspiratorially. ‘Of course. He's the most powerful man in the Empire and people can only get official access to him through me; they pay handsomely for a quick appointment and I'd be a fool not to take their money.'

Vespasian chewed this over for a moment. ‘Yes, I suppose you would be; after all, no one gets paid for serving Rome.'

‘And I've got one of the most important commodities in the city to sell and I'm doing very nicely from it.'

Vespasian smiled and kissed Caenis again. ‘Even the most beautiful woman in Rome sells her favour.'

‘It's just business, my love; there is nothing wrong with the accumulation of wealth.'

‘I agree, but I was brought up to believe that a man should make a profit by working his estates hard.'

‘You do it your way and I'll do it mine. But remember that every denarius that you pass up will belong to somebody else and seeing as wealth is power the best way to defend yourself from the powerful is to gain as much wealth as they have – as quickly as possible.'

‘And in the process make others less wealthy.'

‘Exactly.'

Vespasian thought for a few moments, toying with Caenis' hand. ‘So I should use this situation that's been forced on me to do precisely that. If I take the offensive and gain some advantage from this I'll feel a lot better.'

Caenis leant forward and nuzzled his neck. ‘Much better.'

Vespasian responded, feeling the arousal of the previous night returning. ‘I think that if Corvinus really wants me to set up a meeting with Narcissus to bargain for his life then he should pay for the privilege.'

‘Just like everyone else does. But you've already agreed to do it free of charge.'

‘So I'll have to find another way of extracting the money from him.'

‘And you will, my love.' Caenis began working on his earlobe, flicking it gently with her tongue. ‘And because I'd rather have power over you than let Messalina have that pleasure, I'll lend
you the money to pay off Flavia's debt, seeing as I can well afford it. Are you starting to feel better now?'

‘Far more in control,' Vespasian said, sliding her stola from one shoulder and kissing the exposed flesh. ‘In fact, I'm feeling really quite manly again.'

‘That's quite a boast; I'd be interested to see if it stands up under close scrutiny.'

He rolled her onto her side. ‘I shan't dignify that with an answer.'

‘I wasn't expecting an oral response from you.' She smiled with a mischievous twinkle and then eased herself down and kissed his chest. ‘I was planning on doing the talking.'

‘I'll be very attentive.'

Caenis began to kiss her way lower and Vespasian looked back up at the ceiling, smiling, and then closed his eyes.

A soft knock at the door made him open them a few moments later.

‘Mistress?' a voice from outside called.

‘What is it?'

‘The master's friend, Magnus, is here; he says that it's very important.'

‘Are you sure that it was him?' Vespasian asked Magnus as they hurried along the busy Alta Semita, the main street running the length of the Quirinal Hill.

‘I didn't see him. I've had my lads watching all the gladiator schools in the city; Marius and Sextus sent me a message saying that a man answering Theron's description arrived at the school on the Campus Martius soon after dawn. Whether he's still there now I don't know; but the lads will follow him. If you hadn't taken such a long time “getting dressed”, we'd be there by now.'

Vespasian mumbled an apology.

‘I've never known someone take almost half an hour to put on a loincloth, tunic, belt, sandals and toga; and you must have had help because Caenis came out of the bedroom with you.' Magnus looked at Vespasian, his expression a study of innocence. ‘I just don't understand it.'

‘What's happened to your eye?' Vespasian asked, keen to change the subject.

Magnus put his hand to his left eye, which stared sightlessly and unmoving directly ahead in a very unnatural manner. ‘I bought a glass one. Not bad, eh?'

‘You'd never know the difference,' Vespasian lied as they passed the roofless Temple of Sancus, the god of trust, honesty and oaths.

‘That's what all the lads say. They tell me that you have to look really carefully to spot that it's a fake.'

Vespasian smothered a smile and refrained from giving his honest opinion as they passed through the Porta Sancus and out onto the Campus Martius.

Magnus' crossroads brethren, Marius and Sextus, a couple of bull-like men in their fifties, were waiting for them leaning against the arched façade of the Circus Flaminius sharing a loaf of bread and an onion.

‘He's still in there, sir,' Marius said, pointing the leather-bound stump at the end of his left arm to a substantial, high-walled complex built of brick, with a single well-guarded gate, across a wide thoroughfare, next to the Theatre of Balbus. ‘That's the only way in or out.'

‘Thank you, Marius,' Vespasian said, handing each of the brethren a couple of sesterces. ‘Did he have anyone with him when he went in?'

‘It was Sextus that saw him; I was in Agrippa's Baths taking a shit.'

Vespasian's confidence in the sighting plummeted as he looked at Marius' companion. ‘Well?'

Sextus scratched his shaven head and squeezed his eyes tight shut as if he were attempting a piece of complex mental arithmetic. ‘More than four, sir,' he announced eventually with a look of relief.

‘How many more than four, Sextus?'