‘And get me killed as well, Corbulo,’ Vespasian reminded him.
‘Yes, indeed, and you, but now he’s back here it’s intolerable; he seems to be working with Macro, bringing charges against anyone to whom he bears a grudge, even if they’re from families of the highest order. There have been over twenty of them. Pomponius Labeo was arraigned just after you left last year on a charge of maladministration of his province during the three years that he took over Moesia from Poppaeus.’
‘The slippery little shit.’
‘Indeed. Now you can say what you like about Pomponius’ personal habits but I found him to be an honourable man and a decent legate of the Fourth Scythica.’
‘So what happened with his case?’
‘You mean you don’t know?’
‘I only just got back to Rome today, I don’t know any of the news, other than what you’ve just been telling me while we’ve been waiting.’
‘Ah yes, of course.’ Corbulo paused and drew breath. ‘Well then, I’m sorry to have to tell you,’ he carried on with a look as close to concern on his rigid face as he could muster, ‘that Poppaeus hounded him and his wife Paxaea to suicide last year.’
Vespasian was visibly shocked. ‘The little bastard. How? Why? The charge against him was just maladministration, that doesn’t carry a death sentence.’
‘It was at first but then Poppaeus discovered that Pomponius had been speculating in grain. He told Macro who informed the Emperor and Tiberius took up the charge himself; he doesn’t take kindly to grain speculators. After that Pomponius had no choice but to take his life in order to ensure that his property wasn’t confiscated. As to why, that’s easy: because of Pomponius reporting to the Senate that Poppaeus allowed his army to acclaim him “imperator” and did nothing to stop them. Poppaeus has been living in fear of Tiberius’ vengeance ever since, which, unfortunately, has never been forthcoming.’
‘Quite the reverse, in fact — he was reinstated as Governor of both Moesia and Macedonia in my last year in Thracia.’
‘Quite so, quite so, but that was at Sejanus’ suggestion; he kept Poppaeus safe from Tiberius while he was still alive, but since his downfall no one can understand why Poppaeus led such a charmed life — until he returned to Rome in the summer of last year…’
‘When it turned out that he was working with Macro,’ Vespasian said, finishing Corbulo’s sentence.
‘Oh, you heard?’
‘Yes, you just told me.’
‘So I did.’
‘Gentlemen, I am so sorry to have kept you waiting.’ Antonia appeared in the doorway causing them both to jump to their feet.
‘Domina,’ they said in unison, bowing their heads.
‘I hope that I haven’t inconvenienced you?’
‘Not at all, domina,’ Vespasian replied as she walked towards them with Pallas following, ‘it is I that am inconveniencing you.’
‘With a rather strange request from somebody whom I consider to be a friend.’
‘I’m sorry to ask this, domina, but I hope that you will understand when I explain what brings me here.’
Antonia stopped in front of him, her piercing green eyes bored into his; he felt the potential menace that lurked behind them and quailed. The nervous look on his face caused her to raise her eyebrows and then smile. ‘The land deeds of the properties that Narcissus has been buying up in Egypt on behalf of my son, Claudius?’
Vespasian’s mouth dropped open.
‘And you are worried that not reporting this act of treason to the proper authorities would be construed as treason on your own part?’
Vespasian nodded.
‘And so you brought my dear friend Corbulo as a witness of the most unimpeachable character and requested a formal meeting so that you could keep a copy of the minutes?’
‘Yes, domina,’ Vespasian managed to mumble. ‘How did you know?’
‘It’s what I would have done, had I been in your position.’
‘I mean, how did you know about the land deeds?’
‘Because since I discovered that there may be more to my idiot son than meets the eye I’ve made it my business to know everything that goes on in his household. How I know is something that I may divulge later.’ She turned to Pallas. ‘Is the Consul here yet, Pallas?’
‘Yes, domina, he and dinner await you in your private room.’
‘Excellent. Have Magnus bring the chest there. Gentlemen, we should eat.’ Antonia turned and walked towards the door.
Glancing at Corbulo, who shook his head slowly and tutted, Vespasian followed her, feeling totally out of control of the situation.
‘Decimus Valerius Asiaticus, may I present Titus Flavius Vespasianus; Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo I believe you already know,’ Antonia said as they entered her private domain where the Senior Consul for the final six months of the year stood waiting, admiring the intricately glazed bay window that dominated the room.
Asiaticus turned and nodded a brief greeting to Vespasian and Corbulo before addressing Antonia. ‘Lady Antonia, may I ask what is so urgent that I am summoned from my dining table?’
‘Consul, I do apologise; I hope that my cook has created some dishes that will make up for your spoilt supper. Gentlemen, shall we recline? Consul, please take the couch to my right; the two younger gentlemen to my left.’ She settled onto the middle one of the three couches set around the low walnut-wood table, leaving the men in no doubt that it was an order, not an invitation.
Pallas clapped his hands and three slave girls, each carrying a pair of slippers, appeared from the serving room next door; they took the men’s togas and swapped their sandals for the slippers and then retreated as two more went around the diners washing their hands and spreading napkins out on the couches before them.
Vespasian hoped that he had managed to hide his disappointment at Caenis not being present to attend to her mistress.
Once they were all settled with full cups of wine and the
Antonia spooned a small portion of anchovies onto her plate. ‘Gentlemen, we shall fend for ourselves without anyone to wait upon us. Consul, I owe you an explanation.’ She paused to make sure that the three men were following her lead and helping themselves. ‘When Vespasian arrived here late this afternoon asking for a formal meeting and bringing the esteemed Corbulo along as a witness I made an educated guess as to what it was concerning. Pallas, ask Magnus to bring in the chest.’ The steward stuck his head around the door to pass on the order to an underling outside as Antonia continued. ‘I immediately understood his fears and so sent for you.’
Vespasian now realised the cause of the long wait.
The door opened and Magnus entered with Capella’s chest.
‘Put it on the table, Magnus, and then go and find some supper for you and your companions.’
Magnus mumbled something incomprehensible and left the room, leaving the four diners staring at the chest.
‘Vespasian, I know that this is not a formal meeting — that would be impossible to grant in the circumstances — but as you are now reporting your discovery to the Senior Consul as well as myself I believe that it should cover you from any charge of treason.’
‘Yes, domina,’ Vespasian replied, in awe, as ever, of Antonia’s ability to read his mind.
‘Treason, Lady?’ Asiaticus was alarmed.
‘Yes, Consul, treason,’ Antonia confirmed, taking a sip of her wine. ‘Treason committed by my useless and idiotic son whom you, for some reason that eludes me, consider to be a friend. But no matter. Vespasian, open the chest.’
Vespasian got to his feet and slid the keys from around his neck and, placing them into the locks, lifted the lid.
Asiaticus and Corbulo both strained their necks to see what was inside.
‘Those, Consul,’ Antonia said without bothering to look, ‘are the deeds to seven very large grain-producing
