produced helpful briefing notes on each man’s history. Straightforward stuff. It was no different from when, in the vigiles, he had sent a criminal to the City Prefect, appearing to ask for advice on the case but giving a strong steer on what the culprit had done and how to punish him. He gained a few drinks out of this exercise, as the more astute tribunes tried to influence what he said about them.
He could have landed one or two of them in it, had he been that type. Which they must hope he wasn’t.
Of course not.
He watched them return from their interviews, seeing who looked deflated and who swaggered. One or two would receive their discharge diploma quicker than they had expected; Gaius, who gave instructions to the calligrapher who incised the tablets, had already set this in motion. The Prefect’s exercise was excellent man- management, although like most such party games it severely unsettled the men who were being managed, even those who survived the process. Although there was never any suggestion Domitian know about it, this was just the kind of mental cruelty the Emperor himself enjoyed.
Gaius had to submit to the ‘personal touch’ himself. Secundus set him at his ease — always embarrassing for both parties. The Prefect plodded through various aspects of his work as cornicularius. Ever thoughtful, Gaius had prepared a list for him, to smooth this process.
The truth was, little needed attention or alteration. The office was well run. There were few complaints; most of those could be discounted. A decent commissariat made for a smooth-running corps. Secundus knew he had a good chief-of-staff, who was abreast of everything. The Guards were fine. Of course Gaius had already established this with Norbanus.
‘Excellent!’
‘Thank you, Prefect!’
They had reached the moment that always happened in interviews, when the discreet Clodianus had to decide exactly when to pick up his note tablets and slide out of the office. Sometimes — and his antennae prickled that this was one of those occasions — he had to stay for a stiff period of informality. The tone would lighten up. A Prefect would discuss the Games, the weather, or even mild anxieties about his children; a particularly jolly incumbent would have a laugh about any sex scandals which involved children of absent colleagues (though most thought it bad form to openly libel their equals in rank). According to tradition, there was a possibility Secundus would produce his set of wine glasses, while a previously unseen slave would pop out with wine to put in them.
Last Saturnalia, with Casperius Aelianus, there had even been a bowl of olives. Since Gaius had to stock the Prefects’ refreshments cupboard, he had made sure they were Colymbadian, and whenever he was at a meeting where tuck came out, he took home the leftovers. Such are the quiet rewards of honest public servants.
Today neither the glasses nor the slavey turned up. They had hit the friendly part, but had not finished business.
Gaius had thought this time he was getting away without mentioning the safety committee. Secundus left his big throne-like chair and flopped in a more comfortable seat. As he placed his boots on a low table to indicate they could relax, he brought up the subject after all. Gaius picked at a thumbnail despondently.
Secundus suddenly remembered the etiquette. ‘Time for a noggin, yes?’ He plonked his boots back on the floor, jumped up, went to a cupboard and now did produce glasses. They were enormous greenish tumblers, with cheery skeletons advising, ‘ Drink, for tomorrow we die ’. He burrowed in the wine stash without involving a slave.
He came back, arranged stuff on the low table between them, poured. They raised glasses. It was excellent wine. Prefects always brought their own in because they wanted a decent vintage; with the best will in the world a military negotiator could not afford quality, else Treasury Audit dug in their heels. Gaius had had to explain this tactfully when the two new Prefects were appointed. It was about the third point down in some Guidance Notes for Induction of New Commanders that he had inherited from predecessors. Where the first point was telling the incumbents why their offices were not big enough and the second was pointing out which latrine was specially reserved for their use. For them — and for Gaius, when he knew they were out of camp.
Petronius Secundus regarded him with a wry expression. ‘Well!.. Delicate, is it not?’ He did not mean his wine.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I don’t have to remind you, anything said in this office stays here.’ Gaius gave a twist of his head, the universal sign; Secundus could feel happy that in no circumstances would his colleague Norbanus hear what they had said. ‘You worked with Abascantus, so you understand what he was trying to do.’
Gaius sipped like a girl. Wine on an empty stomach, together with a feeling that the discussion was escaping him, made him moderate his input.
‘I assume you approve, Clodianus?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Well, let’s be open about all this. The Abascantus initiative continues and I believe our involvement needs to continue with it. Either the Guards can limit their service to a simple role as bodyguards, or we aim for the survival of Rome. Are you with me?’ he checked again.
‘I think so, sir.’ Gaius was always amazed how much a chief-of-staff was taken into his superiors’ confidence.
‘The days of an armed insurrection are past.’
Luckily Gaius had just swallowed, so he did not splutter his wine. Now he knew that the so-called career discussions Secundus had been holding had a specific purpose: to sound out his officers’ opinions, in preparation for a coup.
When Secundus was frank, he pushed the boat out: ‘It may have worked for Caligula, but trapping Our Master and God in a tunnel with a bloody stabbing organised by us is just not on.’
‘Really, sir?’
‘The field army love him far too much. He has endeared himself to the troops by his personal presence on the Rhine and Danube. An uprising back home would be very unpopular. The legions would never wear it.’ Gaius had to remind himself this man came up by the civil route; his colleague Norbanus would not have spoken so regretfully about the army. And ‘an uprising at home’ must mean, by the Praetorians. ‘There would be civil war throughout the Empire all over again; we had enough of that in the Year of the Four Emperors. What is necessary now is a smooth transfer of power. As I see it — ’ Secundus paused.
‘Hypothetically?’ Gaius prompted. He was always considerate.
‘Oh good man! All of this is sub rosa. You know the risks. Anybody asks us, we both deny everything… Clearly, any move would necessitate the Senate, the Guards and the imperial staff all working together. In this scenario, you realise, the Guards’ role would be background support.’
‘We won’t do anything, but if somebody else tries it we refrain from intervention?’ Gaius felt he had abruptly ended up with his toes on the edge of a very deep trench; he was struggling to hold his balance, about to topple forwards and fall in.
‘A bugger, isn’t it?’ Secundus asked confidingly. He drained his glass in one relieved gulp. ‘Well, I’m glad we had this little chat. Just wanted you to know, any problems, anything at all, my door is always open.’
Gaius could now extract himself. He stood up to leave. ‘We all know we can rely on you,’ smiled the Prefect. ‘Your watching brief is vital. You won’t let us down, I know.’
Gaius reached the door. He turned back. ‘Just one query, sir, if you don’t mind. How do you see the position of your colleague Norbanus?’
‘Good question! Could be tricky. Don’t worry; no hiccup. If and when things ever kick off, you can leave Norbanus to me.’
‘Good to know that, sir.’
Jupiter Optimus bloody Maximus!
Gaius walked next door to his own office. A couple of clerks looked up, but read his expression and decided not to engage with him.
There was one rather unpleasant possibility, as Gaius was fully aware: his conversations with Norbanus and Secundus could be a cheat. Perhaps one, or both, was attempting to draw out their chief-of-staff’s opinions in order to report him for treason.
That was how people thought in Rome. Domitian had had that dire effect.
