Vespasian steeled himself. Rome, it seemed, was asking much from everyone today. He put a hand on the shoulder of each child; the boy looked up at him with cold, dead eyes and brushed the hand away.
‘Where are we going, Capito?’ Junilla asked her brother.
‘To Father,’ Capito replied, taking her hand.
‘But he’s dead.’
Capito nodded.
‘What does execution mean?’
Capito squeezed her hand and led her calmly, with his head held high, towards the open doors.
Vespasian followed. The senate was silent as they passed.
As they descended the steps into the Forum Gaius caught up with Vespasian.
‘I’m sorry that it has to be you, dear boy,’ he mumbled.
‘Why did Aulus Plautius do that? Hasn’t it gone far enough already?’
‘It wasn’t Plautius, I afraid.’
‘Then who proposed the motion, Uncle?’
‘I did.’
‘You? Why?’
‘On Antonia’s orders,’ Gaius replied, obviously distressed. ‘She had the children seized in vengeance for Apicata writing to Tiberius; she knew that Livilla would have to die, Tiberius expected no less, and although she hated her she couldn’t in honour let it pass without retribution. So she demanded that I asked the Senate for Apicata’s children’s deaths. I tried to refuse her but she threatened me.’
‘What with?’ Vespasian asked wondering what Antonia could have on Gaius that would make him do such a thing.
Gaius looked his nephew straight in the eye. ‘My life,’ he said simply and walked away.
He slowly shook his head as he watched his uncle go, wondering whether Antonia really would have taken Gaius’ life if he had not done her bidding. Then he remembered her sitting resolutely waiting for her daughter to die. He knew the answer and he understood why: what was Gaius’ life to her compared to what she was forced to do for honour and duty?
Vespasian turned and followed the two children as they walked hand in hand, escorted by the Urban Cohort centurion and his men, the short distance across the Forum towards their deaths in the Tullianum.
As he walked he again remembered his grandmother sipping her wine from her treasured cup and saying: ‘I advise you to keep out of politics that you don’t understand, and to keep away from the powerful, because in general they only have one goal and that is more power. They tend to use people of our class as dispensable tools.’ He had seen the reality of that warning: Gaius was as dispensable as he, Vespasian, could one day be.
The centurion rapped on the Tullianum door; Spurius opened it after a brief pause.
‘Well, well, what do we have here?’ he drawled, surveying Capito and Junilla and licking his lips.
‘You will do your duty with dignity and remain silent, Spurius,’ Vespasian hissed, ‘or by all the gods I will see to it that you will be the next victim of this purge.’
Spurius looked at him, taken aback by the venom in his voice, and seeing the steel will in Vespasian’s eyes slowly nodded his acquiescence. He stepped back from the door and allowed Capito to lead his young sister in.
‘What place is this?’ she asked her brother, looking around the chill, shadow-ridden room.
‘This is the place where it ends, Junilla,’ Capito replied softly. ‘Be brave.’
‘Cut or twist?’ Spurius asked in Vespasian’s ear.
‘Twist,’ he replied, although the word stuck in his throat. ‘Make it swift.’
One of Spurius’ mates quickly procured two garrottes whilst Spurius made the children kneel. The nooses were placed around their necks; Junilla started to cry softly as she realised what was happening.
‘Wait,’ Spurius said suddenly, ‘we can’t do this to the girl.’
‘Why not?’ Vespasian snapped. He was shaking with tension. ‘It’s the will of the Senate.’
‘She’s a… you know… ’ Spurius spluttered, trying to be discreet, ‘and we can’t… it’s against the gods.’
Vespasian closed his eyes and put his hands over his face.
‘Do the boy then,’ he ordered swiftly.
Junilla watched in frozen horror as the wooden rod was inserted in the noose behind her brother’s neck and twisted until the slack was taken out. Spurius looked back at Vespasian who nodded reluctantly.
A silent scream was written over the young girl’s face as the noose squeezed the life out of her brother and his face and body contorted in agony. She buried her face in her hands and shuddered uncontrollably.
Capito’s lifeless body fell forward with a splash into the pool of urine that surrounded it and Junilla threw herself, heaving with sobs, on to it.
‘What shall we do with her then?’ Spurius asked.
Vespasian felt weak and sick. He thought of Caenis and wanted only to lie in her arms.
He turned and walked to the door. ‘The Senate has decreed that she must die,’ he said, opening it. ‘If you can’t execute a virgin then make sure that she isn’t one.’
He walked out into the sun, slamming shut the Tullianum door, as Junilla let out a long, terrified shriek.
