and clasping her knees. ‘Please, Mother, forgive me.’
With a sharp crack Antonia slapped her daughter across her broken face. ‘Forgive you? You, who killed your own husband; you, who would have tortured Caenis, the daughter I should have had, had I not intervened; you, who were prepared to see your own son die to achieve your aims. You ask me for forgiveness?’
‘I beg you, Mummy.’
‘Don’t you dare be familiar with me, whore!’ Antonia screamed, pulling away from Livilla’s grasp. ‘There is no love between us any more, nor will there ever be again.’ She swung open the door of the cell. ‘Get in there.’
Meekly, Livilla obeyed and crawled whimpering into the fetid cell. Antonia pulled the door shut behind her and locked it. She threw the key to Pallas.
‘Keep it, Pallas. Don’t give it back to me even if I beg you to; Vespasian is your witness to my order,’ she commanded, pulling a stool in front of the door and sitting down.
‘What are you going to do, domina?’ Vespasian asked.
Antonia folded her hands on her lap. ‘What I must. The Emperor lost his only son because of my daughter. Livilla was prepared to sit by while her son died through poison; so, to end it, I will do the same. Bring me food and water once a day, Pallas; I will sit here and wait for my daughter to die.’
At these words a long screech erupted from the cell and fists pounded at the door.
Vespasian stepped forward. ‘But domina, to kill one’s own child goes against all tha…’ Pallas’ hand clamped over his mouth, silencing him and pulling him back. Vespasian turned to face him and saw for the first time an expression written over the Greek’s normally neutral face: anger.
‘It shall be as you command, mistress,’ Pallas articulated deliberately whilst staring into Vespasian’s eyes. He turned and pulled Vespasian back up the steps. As they neared the top Vespasian glanced back. Antonia sat, hands clasped in her lap, impervious to the cries of her daughter behind her, staring fixedly at the smoke-blackened wall.
Pallas escorted Vespasian back through the house as Livilla’s screams echoed around the corridors.
‘Vespasian,’ Caenis called, running up to him as they reentered the atrium, ‘what’s happening?’
He wrapped his arms around her and nestled his head in her hair. ‘A demonstration of your mistress’s strength of will: she has passed a death sentence on her own daughter and is acting as the executioner herself.’ He let go of Caenis and jabbed his finger repeatedly towards of the source of the now hysterical screaming. ‘No matter how much she hates her,’ he shouted at Pallas, ‘how can she do that?’
‘She has to, master,’ Pallas said, his face now a study in neutrality. ‘If she doesn’t then she knows that for honour’s sake Tiberius will have his revenge for his son in far more terrible way. Claudius, Caligula and Gemellus will all die and with their deaths he will take away her power.’
‘If that’s what it takes to hold on to power in Rome then I want to go back to my estates.’
Caenis looked up at him, shaking her head slowly as the screams continued. ‘No, my love, you stay here and learn from her strength. Pallas is right: she cannot afford to force Tiberius into a position whereby he is honour- bound to kill the rest of his family.’
‘Why not? Caligula is my friend and I wish him no harm, but I’ve seen what he’s like and I know that he will be the worst kind of emperor. It would be for the greater good if Tiberius were free to choose a suitable man to succeed him.’
‘Do you really think that he’ll do that? Or will he just choose someone infinitely worse so that he’s remembered, by comparison, in a better light? A real tyrant,’
Recollecting the unstable old man on Capreae, Vespasian did not need to think long about the answer. ‘He’d choose a tyrant and it would amuse him, because…’ He stopped and a look of comprehension slid over his face. He began to relax. ‘So we’re better off having someone like Caligula, however profligate and base he may be, because at least he will have the restraining influence of Antonia over him?’
‘I would think so, master, which is why I would not have you try to change her mind.’ Pallas held up the key to Livilla’s cell. ‘I won’t give this back to my mistress until she has done her duty to Rome. It’s better for us all this way.’
Vespasian stared at the key; with a shock he realised that giving it to Pallas was an admission by Antonia that she could not trust her maternal instincts not to overrule her sense of duty. ‘She doesn’t want to do this, does she?’
‘Of course not, would you?’
‘And there is no other way?’
‘Not unless she took the knife to her daughter’s throat. But she couldn’t do that — who could? So she must bear her daughter’s screams as she slowly dies. She will see it as her punishment for infanticide, but she is willing to take that punishment in order to fulfil her obligation to Rome.’
Vespasian looked back towards the screaming. ‘Yes, I think I can see that… and I must applaud her for it. She’s paying a high price indeed, but a necessary one, I suppose, to fulfil her duty.’
Pallas shrugged. ‘She has the strength and, in the end, it’s no more than she can afford.’
‘For that I suppose she must be grateful.’ Vespasian looked back at Caenis and sighed. ‘Now I should find the strength to go and do my duty.’
Caenis reached up and stroked his cheek. ‘You’ll find the strength to do it, my love; one way or another.’ She smiled.
He stood back and gazed at her. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep within her and cleanse himself of the cares and horrors of the day, but he knew that it was not yet over. ‘Pallas,’ he said quietly, ‘would you be so good as to have Caenis escorted to my uncle’s house — I don’t think your mistress will have any use for her services over the next few days.’
‘I shall see to it personally, master.’
‘I’ll see you later, my love,’ Vespasian said, raising her chin and kissing her gently on the mouth.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To the Senate House to do what my uncle thinks may be a very unpleasant duty. I don’t know what it is but it will seem as nothing compared to what Antonia is doing.’
He kissed her once more with passion and then, with Livilla’s screams still resounding in his ears and the image of his benefactress sitting, waiting placidly for her daughter’s death in his mind, he walked away, steeled by Antonia’s unselfish resolve.
The Senate was in uproar as Vespasian looked through the open doors. Standing in front of the two Consuls at the far end, and flanked by rows of baying senators sitting on their folding stools on the stepped levels that ran down either side of the house, were two children: a boy of about fourteen and a small girl of no more than seven.
‘And I ask you, Conscript Fathers,’ Consul Trio was bellowing at the top of his voice, ‘how can we be seen to pass such a sentence on two children, so obviously innocent of any crime.’
He sat back on his curule chair and Aulus Plautius rose to his feet from within the disorderly ranks of senators.
‘Conscript Fathers, I would have your attention,’ he shouted and then paused whilst the furore died down. ‘Innocent of crimes they may be,’ he said, looking down his nose at the two frightened children, ‘but innocent of name they are not. When we voted for Sejanus’ death we also voted for damnatio memoriae, wiping his name from history as if he had never existed. What is the Senate, Conscript Fathers, if it refuses to act on its own will? It is our will that the name of Sejanus be eradicated and they’ — he pointed a damning finger at the two children — ‘they carry his name. So do your duty and condemn them.’ He sat down with a dramatic flurry of his toga to absolute silence as the senators tried to mentally refute the logic of his argument. None could.
After a brief pause it became obvious that no one else wished to speak. Regulus got slowly to his feet.
‘The motion before the house is: that the children of Sejanus, Capito and Junilla, be executed in the same manner as their father in accordance with the previous decree of damnatio memoriae. The house will divide.’
Vespasian’s heart sank as the vast majority of senators passed to the right of Regulus.
‘So be it,’ Regulus said wearily. ‘I declare the motion carried. Summon a triumvir capitalis.’
Vespasian walked with leaden feet into the House and stopped just behind the two children.
‘You heard the sentence?’ Regulus asked him.
‘Yes, Consul.’
‘Then do your duty.’
