bowls. Vespasian felt a surge of excitement as Caenis entered last in the group to wait on her mistress. He tried not to stare as she leant down over the table and her simple dress fell away from her chest to reveal two beautifully shaped, pink-nippled breasts, swaying gently from side to side as she placed the cutlery and crockery in front of her mistress. Vespasian felt the blood rush to his groin and was forced to adjust his position on the couch before he embarrassed himself. Antonia noticed his discomfort and, guessing the cause, smiled to herself. She looked over at Asinius.
‘Consul, I find myself in the awkward position of being a hostess with no host beside me. I would be grateful if you would take the host’s responsibility for the strength of the wine.’
‘Of course, dear lady, it will be my pleasure.’ Asinius looked at Pallas. ‘We shall start with four parts water to one part wine.’
Pallas nodded and then signalled the slaves who were waiting patiently behind each diner to fetch in the first course. Vespasian made an effort not to look at Caenis as she walked away for fear of compounding an already considerable problem and cursed himself for being infatuated by a mere slave to whom he could not even talk whilst in the same room, let alone hope to possess.
The dinner progressed in a sedately formal manner; the gustatio was followed by a dish of huge lobsters garnished with asparagus, which in turn was replaced by mullet from Corsica followed by goose liver with truffles and mushrooms and finally a roast boar with a cumin and wine sauce.
Antonia led the conversation through a range of uncontentious subjects, always allowing her guests time to express their opinions and deferring to those of Asinius should there be a disagreement. Vespasian found himself relaxing and, apart from a few glances in Caenis’ direction, was able to relax and enjoy the meal and contribute now and again, albeit slightly awkwardly, to the conversation. They whiled away the late afternoon in pleasant companionship, waited on constantly by the deferential slaves who padded noiselessly around them. By the time the dishes of pears, apples and figs were served the sun had set, lamps had been lit and a couple of portable braziers brought in to supplement the underfloor heating. The room, deprived of its main source of light, took on a more intimate feel and conversation grew more animated, due in part to Asinius reducing the water level in the wine.
Pallas, seeing that the diners had everything they needed, signalled the slaves to retire. He made sure there was no one listening in the serving room behind the curtain or outside the door, then he nodded to Antonia and withdrew to a darkened corner to wait, unobtrusively, on his mistress’s pleasure.
Antonia picked up a pear and began to peel it with her knife. ‘Well, this has been very pleasant; but, Gaius, as I’m sure you are aware, I didn’t just invite you and your charming nephews here to discuss the recent campaign in Africa, racing and the hideous price of good slaves. There’s a far more pressing political crisis, whose beginnings we have already seen in the rise of Sejanus in the Emperor’s favour, which will, if not countered, come to a head in the coming months.’ She paused, discarded the pear skin, cut a small slice off the fruit and placed it in her mouth. ‘I think our esteemed Consul here could best outline the situation.’
Asinius nodded and let out a loud burp. ‘Indeed; and thank you for a most delicious meal.’ He took a sip of wine, savoured the delicacy of the vintage and then began. ‘When the Divine Augustus created the Praetorian Guard, after the ravages of years of civil war, it was to safeguard the city from the external threat of any mutinous legions and the internal threat of the sort of rabble-rousers that we had come accustomed to in the last days of the Republic. One thing kept it in check and that was the power of the Emperor, who in his wisdom appointed two Praetorian prefects so that neither could get too powerful. Sejanus was appointed to the post in Augustus’ last year and shared it with his father Lucius Seius Strabo. An honest man from all accounts, so honest in fact that one of Tiberius’ first actions as Emperor was to send him to govern Egypt. Unfortunately Tiberius neglected to appoint a replacement for Strabo and so Sejanus has commanded the Guard alone now for over ten years, during which time he has managed to win Tiberius’ complete trust.’ He paused for another sip of wine and then continued. ‘And now because of the unfortunate deaths of your beloved Germanicus, domina, and the Emperor’s son Drusus, he feels that he can position himself to become Tiberius’ heir.’
‘Unfortunate? Pah!’ Antonia spat, and Vespasian blinked in shock. All afternoon she had been the perfect hostess: mild, calm and attentive, but in that moment he saw the fire in her that made her the most formidable woman of her generation and not to be crossed. ‘My son Germanicus was poisoned in Syria by the Governor Calpurnius Piso, on Sejanus’ orders and possibly with the connivance of Tiberius himself, although that part I cannot prove. However, Piso’s suicide before his defence had started proves to me his guilt. As for Drusus, his wife Livilla, that treacherous harpy of a daughter that I nursed at my own breast, poisoned him, I’m sure of it, though again I have no proof. She and Sejanus are lovers; he asked the Emperor’s permission to marry her this year. Tiberius refused and forbade them to see each other. However, she is still Sejanus’ mistress but they are too clever to let that come to Tiberius’ attention.’
‘That is news indeed, domina,’ Gaius said, digesting the implications of the revelation. ‘That would mean that he wouldn’t be afraid to make an attempt on the Emperor’s life.’
‘No, he’s too subtle for that,’ Antonia replied. ‘He knows that should he do so and try to take the purple for himself the Senate and half the legions would rise against him and we would be back into years of civil war.’
‘He’s been far more clever,’ Asinius said, smiling. ‘He’s managed to get rid of Tiberius without killing him.’
‘But he was at the Circus Maximus just yesterday,’ Vespasian blurted out, completely forgetting his place.
‘So he was, young man, so he was, but for the last time ever.’ Asinius took another sip of wine. ‘We have over the last couple of years seen a resurgence of treason trials, mostly on trumped-up charges, but nevertheless getting convictions. This has enabled Sejanus to persuade our Emperor to see conspiracies around every corner. He knows that he has never been popular; he’s been nervous ever since the legions along the Rhine rose up against him on his accession. He tried to ingratiate himself with the Senate, deferring to them in foreign and domestic policy decisions, accepting votes against his wishes and even giving way to the Consuls when he met them in the street. But he now feels that this policy has backfired and that the Senate saw his conciliatory behaviour as weakness and is now trying to remove him.’
‘And for Tiberius,’ Antonia added, ‘the proof of all this is in the successful treason trials.’
‘Set up by Sejanus?’ Gaius ventured, admiring the beauty of the strategy.
‘Indeed, and with the two obvious heirs gone Sejanus has managed to persuade him that the Senate will try to restore the Republic – something for which Tiberius denounced his own brother, Lady Antonia’s husband, to Augustus when he suggested it in a private letter many years ago. Sejanus has played him beautifully, he provided Tiberius with proof of his greatest fear whilst concealing the true source of the threat against him. He has persuaded him, for his own safety, to withdraw from Rome in the New Year, after the next Consuls are sworn in, and take up permanent residence on Capreae.’
‘But with the Emperor, the one person that protects him, gone, surely Sejanus will be left vulnerable to attack from the Senate?’ Gaius observed, thinking he’d seen a flaw in the plan.
‘In normal circumstances yes,’ Antonia said, her calm returned, ‘but somehow Sejanus has managed to persuade Tiberius to appoint Gnaeus Cornelius Gaetulicus and Gaius Calvisius Sabinus to the Consulship.’
‘Yes, I know. Neither of them is remarkable: Gaetulicus writes dirty poems and is popular with the army and Calvisius Sabinus is bit on the slow side.’
‘Slow?’ Antonia laughed. ‘He makes my son Claudius seem like a quick-witted defence lawyer.’
‘So who will be controlling the Senate next year, then?’ Asinius asked rhetorically. ‘An idiot, and a man who is popular amongst the troops, whose daughter is, coincidently, betrothed to Sejanus’ elder son.’
‘Ah!’ Gaius exclaimed.
‘Ah, indeed, my old friend,’ Antonia said, ‘and he’s done more.’
Vespasian and Sabinus looked at each other, both wondering what other depths Sejanus had sunk to and also why they, a couple of inexperienced country boys, were being privileged with the details.
‘What more does he need to do? Surely it’s perfect as it is?’ Gaius asked, genuinely puzzled. ‘Tiberius withdrawn to an island guarded by Praetorians, hearing only the news that Sejanus wants him to hear. Meanwhile the Senate is in the hands of a fool who’s too stupid to sponge clean his own arse without a diagram and someone who is practically family. It’s brilliant. What more does he need to worry about?’
‘The army,’ Vespasian said quietly.
‘Absolutely right, young man, the army,’ Asinius said, looking at Vespasian with new respect and then darting
