race.
Euprepes, driving his team on with the fury of a man desperate to win, just held the lead a hundred paces from the last corner. Gentius, realising that he had no chance to overtake him on the outside and then outpace him to the finish, looked over his left shoulder. The Red Celt was almost a length directly behind the leader; it was enough of a gap to aim for. Checking his speed slightly he pulled his team to the left into the space between the two chariots, forcing the Celt to slow. The corner was fast approaching and Gentius urged his team on so that their front legs were almost on the lead chariot. Euprepes, fearful that if he braked too hard Gentius would crash into him and take them both out, was forced to take the turn faster than was prudent. His team scrambled around the bend losing cohesion as they fought to keep their footing, sending his chariot skidding out to the right. Gentius pushed his team inside the Blues, hugged the curve and accelerated away into one final dash.
Any in the crowd who had sat down were now back on their feet again yelling their teams on. With a half- length advantage Gentius rode his team for all that they were worth whilst Euprepes whipped his exhausted animals mercilessly – but to no avail. Gentius shot straight past the last turning post and the seventh dolphin fell. He punched the air in triumph and headed off for the lap of honour. The Whites had won the first race and their supporters screamed their support for the hero of the moment.
Vespasia was ecstatic. ‘Thirty denarii to me, that’s as much as you three men lost between you,’ she gloated. Gaius and Titus took it well but Sabinus, who could never bear losing, was furious.
‘That Euprepes should be strung up by his balls for losing like that, he had the race won.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Gaius said. ‘He went too fast from the start; his team were finished.’
Gentius stopped his chariot by the steps that led up to the front of the imperial box. To the rapturous ovation of the crowd he climbed up and received his palm of victory and a large purse from a very pleased Asinius; it had been a good start to the day.
The crowd settled back down to watch the jugglers and gymnasts who would fill in the time whilst the track was cleared of dead horses and broken chariots ready for the next race. Vespasian looked back over at the box but Caenis was nowhere to be seen.
‘If you’re looking for that girl,’ Gaius whispered in his ear, ‘you’re looking in the wrong direction, dear boy, she’s over there.’
Vespasian jerked his head around and sure enough there, coming through the same entranceway that they had used, was Caenis. She reached the bottom of the steps and Vespasian held his breath as she turned right and headed along the gangway towards where they were sitting. Unable to believe his eyes she stopped in front of his uncle and, keeping her gaze on the floor, handed him a parchment note. Gaius took it and quickly read its contents before handing it back to the girl.
‘Tell the Lady Antonia we would be delighted.’
Caenis bowed and, without raising her eyes, turned and left. All eyes were on Gaius, who had a bemused look on his face.
‘Well?’ Vespasia asked.
‘Most extraordinary,’ Gaius said. ‘It would seem that the good lady has seen fit to invite myself and the boys to dinner.’
‘When?’ Vespasian blurted.
‘Tomorrow, dear boy. A great honour; but what can she possibly want with you two?’
CHAPTER IX
Vespasian was woken by the movement and murmuring of the house slaves as they lit lamps, kindled the fire and set a table ready for breakfast. The smell of freshly baked bread and the anticipation of seeing Caenis easily persuaded him out of bed.
In the atrium he found Gaius seated next to the lararium eating his breakfast whilst having his sandals put on.
‘Good morning, dear boy,’ Gaius boomed, rubbing a clove of garlic on to a hunk of bread. ‘I trust that you slept well.’ He dunked his bread into a bowl of olive oil on the table beside him and took a large bite.
‘Thank you, Uncle, I did,’ Vespasian replied, noticing gratefully that the young lad at Gaius’ feet was wearing a loincloth. ‘I hope that you did too.’
‘Very well indeed, dear boy, very well,’ his uncle replied, ruffling the hair of the slave boy kneeling at his feet, who, having finished with the sandals, smiled coyly at his master, bowed and left. ‘Sit with me and have some breakfast, there’s bread, olives, water, oil and some cheese. Would you like wine in your water?’
‘No, thank you, Uncle, this will be fine,’ Vespasian said sitting down.
‘As you wish, as you wish.’ Gaius took another bite of his bread and looked at Vespasian thoughtfully as he chewed on it. ‘Tell me, Vespasian, which path would you wish to follow?’ he asked. ‘The Emperor has as much use for good administrators as he does for good generals.’
‘But I thought that to climb the cursus honorum one served in both military and civilian positions in order to understand how the two are linked,’ Vespasian replied, slightly confused by the question.
‘Indeed you do and, as you rightly imply, they are interchangeable. However, there are various degrees of civilian and military. Look at it this way: if you were Caesar, would you send a man to be governor of a restless frontier province like Moesia when his only experience with the legions was four years as a military tribune with the Seventh Macedonica supervising road-building and latrine-digging in Dalmatia, and two years as legate of the Fourth Gallica sampling the heady joys of Antioch where, because of a recent peace treaty with the Parthians, the most martial obligation was to inspect the legion once a month on pay day? Of course you wouldn’t, not unless you particularly disliked the man and were prepared to lose a province and two legions getting rid of him. Much easier just to order him to commit suicide at home in his bath, don’t you think?’
‘Of course, Uncle,’ Vespasian replied.
‘This man might however make a suitable governor of somewhere like Aquitania where road-building is all the rage and there is no legion to inspect.
‘Now, a man who served as a military tribune with the First Germanica in lower Germania fighting the Chatti or some other equally bloodthirsty tribe and then served as legate of the Fourth Scythica, curbing the raiding of the Getae and securing the northern border, is the man who gets to be Governor of Moesia and with it the chance of military glory and all the financial rewards that go with it. So, Vespasian, you see the difference. Which path do you want to follow?’ Gaius asked again.
‘I would choose to be the second man, Uncle. In boosting my personal standing and dignitas I would raise the prestige of my family.’
‘You would also attract the attention of the Emperor and those around him, who jealously guard their power by maintaining his. Neither he nor they relish seeing any other man gain too much personal glory; so beware of serving Rome too well, Vespasian. After all, what does an Emperor do with a successful general?’ Gaius paused and tore off another hunk of bread before offering the loaf to his nephew. ‘The first man, however,’ he continued, swirling his bread around the oil, ‘does indeed go to Aquitania, a province run by the Senate, not the Emperor, and spends a very convivial year there building roads to his heart’s content and quietly enriching himself off the fat of the land by taking good-sized bribes off the locals for medium-sized favours.’
‘But surely that’s wrong,’ Vespasian interrupted.
‘Why?’
‘Well, he’s abusing his position of authority in order to enrich himself.’
‘My dear boy, where have you been?’ Gaius guffawed. ‘He’s doing no such thing; he’s using his position of authority in order to re-enrich himself. Do you know how much it costs to rise in this city with bribes, public good works, holding games, feasts and all that sort of thing, in order to buy popularity with the Senate and the people? Fortunes, dear boy, fortunes; and if you are not lucky enough to be born with fortunes, what then? You borrow, and borrowed money needs to be paid back, with interest. You won’t get paid in Rome’s service. Oh, no, what we do for Rome we do for love.’ Gaius looked hard at Vespasian to see if this had gone in and then carried on. ‘So the first man comes back to Rome covered in gold. He is hardly noticed as he settles back down in his own home with a chest full of denarii. He poses no threat to the Emperor or those around him, because he has commanded no
