‘My friends! Rome has endured much hardship in recent months. Our b-b-b-beloved city is troubled by social unrest. The failure of the grain supply has vexed our p-p-people. I have done all in my power to scour Italia for food to feed the capital. However, I believe we are close to solving the g-g-gr-grain shortage.’
Cato’s ears pricked and he sensed Macro stir beside him. Finding a reliable supply of food was the key to ending the strife in the city. Once that was dealt with, the people would be grateful to their Emperor and his enemies would no longer be able to exploit the discontent. Claudius had better be right, Cato thought. If he raised hopes only to dash them, it would only inflame the anger of his people.
The Emperor was about to continue when Narcissus leant forward slightly and spoke in an undertone. ‘Remember, pause for effect.’
Claudius nodded, staring at the audience for long enough for a few uncertain coughs to break out. Then he launched back into his prepared speech. ‘Until the people’s bellies are filled again, it is only ri-ri-right that the Emperor offers Rome the com-comfort of entertainment to help them through the c-cri-crisis. If their stomachs are empty, then let their hearts b-be-be filled instead!’ He thrust his arm into the air with a dramatic rhetorical flourish.
‘Pause for applause,’ Narcissus prompted and there was a brief delay before those in the audience who had been primed clapped their hands. The sound quickly spread and swelled and Narcissus smiled cynically, while his master bathed in the adulation of his audience. Narcissus allowed it to go on for a while and then made a cutting action with his hand. The applause died away, rather too soon for the Emperor’s taste and his brow creased into a frown before he continued, with a gesture towards the channels and dams that had been constructed to link the lake with the Tiber’s tributary.
‘By the end of next month, my engineers will have completed their work here and once the lake is dr- drained, we will, b-b-before the end of the year, have increased the farmland close to R-r-rome by several thousand iugerae. More land means more grain. Never again will Rome go h-hun-hungry!’
This time Narcissus did not need to prompt the applause. It was freely given by those who were relieved at the prospect of pacifying the mob.
‘Before the lake is dr-dr-dr-drained,’ the Emperor continued, ‘it is my intention to use the natural arena of the Albine lake to stage the gr-gr-greatest gl-glad-gladiatorial spectacle in history.’
The current of excitement that swept through the crowd was palpable and it was a while before the muttering died away enough for Claudius to resume.
‘Two fleets, crewed by ten thousand gladiators, will fight on the lake, b-be-before the eyes of the entire pop-population of Rome! For generations to come, people will remember the reign of Cl-cl-claudius not because of food riots but because of our gladiators and the spectacular N-nau-naumachia they provided. Our heirs will look on us with envy. Th-thin-think on that, and pass the word into every street and alley of Ro-rome!’
Claudius thrust out his arms, as if to embrace the thousands who stood cheering before him. Cato caught a look of smug gratification on the face of Narcissus as he turned to Pallas. The latter looked furious, but held his position, and a moment later forced himself to join in the celebration with muted applause.
‘Bloody hell.’ Macro shook his head and muttered to Cato, ‘Where’s he going to find ten thousand gladiators? He’s mad.’
‘No,’ Cato responded quietly. ‘Just desperate.’
Claudius turned away from his audience and arched an eyebrow at his two closest advisers. ‘Well?’
‘A fine speech, sire!’ Narcissus clapped his hands together. ‘The Naumachia is just what your people need.’
‘Indeed,’ Pallas agreed. ‘Your speech was so good that one grieves over its brevity.’
Narcissus glanced daggers at the other freedman and then smiled brilliantly at the Emperor. ‘Ah, yes! But brevity is an art that few in history have mastered as well as you, sire.’
‘Yes, quite.’ Claudius nodded vigorously. ‘And when w-word of the games reaches the vulgar mo-mo-mob they’ll forget that they were ever h-h-hungry. Speaking of which, it’s time to return to the palace. I need to eat. I have a craving for mush-mushrooms.’
With a last gracious wave to his audience Claudius left the dais and limped down from the stage back to his litter. Pallas followed quickly, trying to steal a lead on his rival. Narcissus let him go and then, as he passed by Cato and Macro, he seemed to catch his boot and trip over his toga. His arms flailed as he fell against Cato. Cato felt the imperial secretary’s hand thrust something into the palm of his shield hand.
‘Are you all right, sir?’ Cato asked, as he helped Narcissus back on to his feet.
‘I’m fine,’ Narcissus snapped. ‘Unhand me, soldier.’ He shook off Cato’s grip and hurried to catch up with Pallas.
‘Charming man, that,’ said Macro.
‘He’s a freedman,’ Fuscius hissed. ‘Shouldn’t be allowed to treat a Praetorian that way. It ain’t right.’
As the Emperor climbed into his litter, those summoned to hear his brief announcement began to shuffle back towards their own litters and horses, anxious to get back on the road to Rome before the route became clogged with traffic. Centurion Lurco cupped a hand to his mouth and bellowed the order to his men. ‘Sixth Century! Fall in behind the imperial litter!’
‘You heard him!’ Tigellinus shouted. ‘Move yourselves!’
The Praetorians began to hurry over to form up behind the German bodyguards surrounding the litter. Cato hung back and when he was sure that he would not be observed, he opened his hand and saw a small, neatly folded sheet of papyrus. He thumbed it open and saw a few words written in fine print. He crumpled it up and closed his fist before he took up his station beside Macro near the front of the column and muttered to his friend, ‘Narcissus wants to meet us in the safe house as soon as we return to Rome.’
The imperial secretary looked up anxiously as Septimus opened the door to Cato and Macro late in the afternoon. The shutters were open and pale shafts of light illuminated the room. Narcissus was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. He waited until the door was shut before he spoke.
‘You’ve taken your time.’
‘We came as soon as we could,’ Cato replied.
‘Are you sure that no one saw you come here?’ Narcissus asked earnestly.
Cato nodded. ‘Tigellinus was called to headquarters to get tonight’s watchword. We left before he got back to barracks.’
‘What if the Liberators have other men watching you?’
‘We doubled back and stopped a few times to check. We’re safe.’
‘Safe?’ Narcissus laughed humourlessly. ‘No one is safe at the moment. Not you, not me, and not the Emperor.’
Macro cocked his head to one side. ‘Somehow, I think vulnerability is more of an issue for those further up the chain of command.’
Narcissus stared at him. ‘If you really think that, then you are a fool, Centurion Macro. Your fate is tied to mine. If our enemies win the day, do you really think they will be satisfied by removing just the Emperor and his immediate circle? Look what happened when Sejanus fell. The streets were running with the blood of anyone who was even remotely associated with him. So spare me your delight in the greater misfortune of others.’ He paused, as a thought struck him. ‘There really ought to be a word for that quality since so many people seem to relish the misfortune of others.’
Cato cleared his throat. ‘You sent for us for a reason.’
‘I did. What did you make of the Emperor’s announcement?’
‘About the games? Or about the improvement of the supply of grain?’
Narcissus smiled. ‘Both.’
‘I don’t see how he can possibly stage his naval spectacle. Where is he going to get so many gladiators from? I doubt there are ten thousand in the whole of Italia.’
‘There aren’t. Calling them gladiators is stretching a point. Some of them will be. But the rest will be criminals and the scrapings of the chain gangs from the mines and imperial estates. As long as the people get a spectacle they’ll remember for as long as they live then they won’t pay too much attention to the quality of the individual combats. We’ll dress them up and place a weapon in their hands and let them get on with it, with freedom for the winners. That should provide sufficient incentive to get stuck in.’
‘What about the ships?’ asked Macro. ‘How are you going to get warships up to the lake?’
