‘I have a private interest in this matter,’ Antonia interjected. ‘Rhoemetalces’ mother, Queen Tryphaena, is a cousin of mine and also a friend. My late father Marcus Antonius was her great-grandfather. I knew Rhoemetalces as a child; he lived here in my house for three years and I grew very fond of him. I would deem it a personal favour if you could uncover evidence that Sejanus has put my kinsfolk in danger.’
Vespasian swallowed hard. How would he, with no military experience, be able to uncover an agent of Sejanus, who, he felt sure, would be as wily and subtle as his master?
Antonia, reading his thoughts, smiled at him. ‘It has to be someone like you, Vespasian. Because you are young and inexperienced the spy will see you as just another fresh-faced young tribune trying to find his feet in the legions. He won’t consider you as a threat at all, in fact he may even try to manipulate you. So trust no one and keep your eyes open.’
‘Yes, domina,’ Vespasian said, not feeling at all reassured.
‘I hope to have the appointments confirmed within the month.’ Asinius took another swig of wine. ‘As you know I step down as Consul in two days’ time, then I have a few months before I leave for whichever province I am allotted, so we have to work fast, gentlemen: we have a snake to catch.’
CHAPTER XI
‘Titus, you must order your sons to tell us what they actually discussed at the dinner,’ Vespasia demanded at breakfast the following morning. She did not believe her sons or brother for one moment that it had just been a friendly dinner, and the Consul just happened to be there as the only other guest, and he just happened to give the brothers what they wanted, without demanding anything in return other than that they become his clients. ‘Preferment is never given without the promise of something in return and I want to know what they’ve got themselves into.’
‘Calm yourself, my dear. If they are keeping something from us, which I believe they are,’ Titus replied, looking shrewdly at his two sons, ‘one must assume it is for our own safety. Antonia and Asinius work in a world far removed from ours and it is probably best not to know the politics of the deal they made, it would be too dangerous.’
‘But that is just the point: if it is dangerous I want us to know about it! What if the boys are getting into something way out of their depths?’
‘Whatever it is that they’ve agreed to, it’s too late to go back on. You can’t change your mind with someone like Antonia and expect to prosper in Rome afterwards. The deal is done. We should just be thankful that Sabinus and Vespasian have both got what we came here to arrange for them, and so quickly too. Now we should concentrate on introducing them to as many influential people as we can before Vespasian goes north. And I, my dear, shall get Vespasian kitted out with a uniform.’
With that the subject was closed, leaving Vespasian and Sabinus grateful that their father had taken their side; they would have been placed in an impossible situation had the paterfamilias ordered them to reveal the facts behind the deal. Vespasia was left to pester Gaius for information, but to no avail. Gaius himself was busy attending the Senate each day it sat, fulfilling his obligation to Asinius by talking at great length on a variety of subjects in which he had previously shown little or no interest or indeed knowledge; then giving way to other senators who showed a similar new-found zeal. In the late afternoons he organised a series of dinners, inviting this year’s praetors, aediles and quaestors as well as other senators and equites – equestrians – whom he deemed either potentially useful to his nephews’ careers or dangerous and therefore safer to cultivate than to ignore.
A couple of days after the ides of January one such dinner had just finished and the guests had taken their leave when there was a knock on the door. Gaius, thinking that it was one of his guests returning to collect a forgotten item, opened the door himself, to reveal Pallas.
‘Good evening, master, I’m sorry to intrude on you so late,’ the Greek steward said in his faultless Latin.
‘Good evening to you, my friend. Come in. I assume that you are here on your mistress’ business?’
‘I am, master.’ Pallas quickly looked around outside and then stepped into the atrium. ‘I have taken great care not to be followed. It is a matter of the utmost urgency and highly confidential.’
‘In that case we shall speak privately in my study. Follow me.’
He led the steward through the atrium to his study at the far left-hand corner. Pallas nodded his respects through the open door of the triclinium to Sabinus and Vespasian, who were still reclining at table with their parents, and then disappeared into Gaius’ private domain.
‘Who is that?’ Vespasia asked of the two brothers. ‘He obviously knows you.’
Being unable to deny it Sabinus replied: ‘He’s the steward of Lady Antonia; but what he’s doing here I don’t know,’ he added, anticipating her next question.
Vespasia looked at her husband. ‘I’ve never known anything good come of a late-night secret meeting,’ she said darkly. ‘I suppose it has something to do with whatever was being discussed at that dinner.’
As if to prove her point Gaius appeared at the triclinium door. ‘Vespasia, my dear, and Titus, would you excuse your sons a moment? There is something that I need to speak to them about.’
‘I told you,’ Vespasia said.
‘Of course, Gaius, with pleasure. Go on, boys,’ Titus replied graciously.
‘With pleasure indeed!’ Vespasian heard his mother snort as he left the room.
Gaius’ study was surprisingly spacious. The far wall was shelved, from floor to ceiling. Hundreds of leather cylinders containing Gaius’ books were stacked neatly between the upright partitions. In the middle of the room stood a heavy wooden desk behind which Gaius sat. In the dim light of two oil lamps and a brazier Vespasian could make out the small statuettes and artwork that he’d expected of his uncle, knowing his tastes only too well by now.
‘You need to go at once with Pallas to Antonia’s house,’ Gaius said without asking them to sit. ‘You must do whatever she asks of you, and believe me when I tell you that it is of vital importance.’
‘What is, Uncle?’ Sabinus asked.
‘It would be best if Antonia explains it herself. I shall send for Magnus and his colleagues to escort you, it’s too dangerous to travel without guards at this time of the night. How you got here unharmed, Pallas, I don’t know.’
‘I am but a mere slave, master, what would anyone want with me?’
‘Mere, indeed!’ Gaius smiled and then looked at his nephews. ‘Now go and get your cloaks and travel with the hoods up.’
Magnus arrived quicker than expected; it was almost as if he’d been expecting a summons from his patron.
‘I brought six of me lads, sir,’ he told Gaius as he stepped through the door, ‘on the basis that if you’re going somewhere at this time of night on urgent business it ain’t for a convivial bit of socialising, if you take my meaning?’
‘Yes, yes, very wise, though I hope it won’t come to that.’
‘Come to what, Gaius?’ Vespasia was hovering near the door desperate to find out what was going on. ‘And what’s that man doing here again?’
‘Good evening, madam,’ Magnus said, bowing his head.
‘It’s all right, Vespasia; he’s here to escort Pallas, Sabinus and Vespasian to Antonia’s house,’ Gaius said, anxious to avoid a repetition of their last encounter.
‘At this time of night?’
‘Yes, that’s precisely why he’s here, because it is this time of night.’
‘But what’s so important that it can’t wait until morning when they won’t have to go creeping around the place with a bunch of no-good ruffians?’
Magnus’ face remained inscrutable; he was getting used to being insulted by ‘that woman’, as he now thought of her.
‘Vespasia, let it rest,’ Titus ordered. ‘Whatever Antonia wants from our sons is her business – we should be honoured that they can be of service to such a great lady.’
Vespasian and Sabinus appeared back in the atrium in their thick woollen cloaks, each sporting a long dagger
