courtyard garden. ‘As I’m sure was N-N-Narcissus.’
Vespasian and Corbulo sat either side of Antonia watching with interest as she interrogated her son. Claudius had twitched and stammered almost uncontrollably when she had showed him the deeds and he had admitted to knowing that Narcissus had been buying land illegally for him in Egypt. Narcissus had remained unruffled throughout the interview as if it were a matter of little import and consequently beneath his dignity to acknowledge. Vespasian glanced over to Caenis but she kept her head down, concentrating on recording the conversation on wax tablets on her lap. Pallas stood, expressionless, behind her.
‘I’m supposed to believe that you were going to sell seven of the biggest wheat-growing estates in Egypt,’ Antonia said, indicating to Capella’s chest placed, open, on the table between them, ‘to an unknown buyer without being remotely interested in who it was?’
‘But we thought that we did know, good Lady, we thought it was Poppaeus,’ Narcissus replied, stroking his oiled beard with a chubby hand; the ostentatiously bejewelled rings on each stubby digit glinted in the strengthening sun.
‘I did not address that question to you, freedman,’ Antonia snapped. ‘You’ve already committed an outrage by sitting in my presence without invitation, do not make matters worse by talking out of turn; and I am “domina” to you.’
‘Indeed, domina,’ Narcissus replied, slowly inclining his head and spreading his hands in acquiescence.
‘So you didn’t know the end purchaser was Macro?’
‘M-M-Macro!’ Claudius looked horrified. Narcissus’ full lips twitched. ‘No, M-M-M-Mother. P-Poppaeus said that he would wipe off the debt for all the estates if I sold seven to h-him.’
‘And he didn’t tell you what he was going to do with them?’
‘No, M-M-M-Mother.’
‘Stop m-m-mothering me, Claudius. If you have such trouble saying the word then don’t attempt it and this conversation might go a lot more swiftly.’
‘Yes, M-M- yes. We er…I, that is, assumed that he was going to keep them for h-himself.’ Claudius glanced again at Narcissus who was studying his manicured fingernails; with an almost imperceptible nod of the head the freedman indicated that he had given the right answer.
‘Well, he’s not; he’s going to sell them on to Macro. Luckily for you I believe your story. I know that even
‘M-m-me!’ Claudius exclaimed in exaggerated surprise. Vespasian noticed a faint smile briefly tweak the corners of Narcissus’ mouth.
‘Yes, you, Claudius. Don’t try to play the innocent with me; it’s insulting to both of us. Now, if you want me to seriously consider you as a potential heir then you have to help me put an end to this deal without Macro suspecting that it was me who moved against him. And you must not tell anyone; not even your money-grabbing little friend Herod Agrippa.’
Narcissus placed a silk handkerchief to his mouth and delicately cleared his throat, raising both eyebrows and looking at Antonia.
‘What is it?’ she asked impatiently.
‘My thanks, domina,’ Narcissus purred, his voice oozing obsequious sincerity. ‘We, that is, my master and I, will naturally do everything that you ask and you can rely on our discretion. I would suggest, if I may, that just stopping the deal or, indeed, eliminating Poppaeus would not be subtle enough to fool Macro.’
‘Do you think that I haven’t thought of that?’
Narcissus held his hands up and humped his shoulders, tilting back his head and half closing his eyes. ‘No, domina, no, of course not. But might I suggest an accidental death?’
‘No, you may not, you impertinent little man. We are going to stage a natural death and we’re going to stage it in this house.’
Narcissus’ eyes widened as he understood the implications. ‘And this would be staged after we have done the deal, domina?’
‘Yes, Claudius will end up with both the signed-off debt marker as well as the deeds.’
‘May I compliment you on such finesse?’
‘No, you may not; it was Vespasian’s idea.’
Whether that was true or not, Vespasian did not know any more. He felt Narcissus’ gaze and looked over at him; the freedman’s eyes betrayed a mixture of admiration and appreciation; he gave a half-smile and inclined his head fractionally. Vespasian’s mind turned to the bankers’ draft; he would cash it with the Cloelius brothers as repayment of that debt once the deed was done.
‘I will leave you to discuss the details,’ Antonia said, rising and giving her son a stern look. ‘Get this right, Claudius, and I might think better of you. Come, Caenis.’
The men all stood as Antonia left; Caenis followed with a hesitant look at Vespasian. He watched her walk out of the garden, wondering when he would get the chance to try to put things right with her.
‘So to recap our plan then, masters,’ Pallas said, putting down Capella’s chest, as they entered the atrium having walked around the whole house and stable yard, where Magnus had joined them. ‘On their arrival Poppaeus and his secretary, Kosmas, will be shown into the garden where the deal will take place. Once it is done Claudius will ask Poppaeus for a private word; Narcissus will take Kosmas to his study through the atrium where he will see us waiting for an interview with Claudius. Meanwhile, Poppaeus’ litter will have been ordered around the back to the stable yard where it will be left as close as possible to the steps leading into the house. The litter-bearers will be offered food and drink in the kitchen and kept there until Magnus runs to tell them that their master is waiting at the front of the-’
A loud knock at the door interrupted his briefing. Before Narcissus could stop him, the doorkeeper opened it and in walked a tall, elegant, middle-aged man dressed in a jet black robe that fell to his ankles and a purple cloak edged with gold embroidery. A freedman accompanied him.
‘H-H-Herod, my dear friend,’ Claudius called, shambling over to greet the new arrival. His weak knees knocked together as his feet shuffled forward, making his walk more like a lurch that gave the impression that he would fall flat on his face if he lost his momentum.
Herod took Claudius’ forearm in a firm grip. ‘I’m sorry if I have intruded on anything,’ he said, casting an interested look over Claudius’ shoulder at the company. ‘Come, Eutyches, Claudius is evidently busy; we should return later.’
The freedman turned and walked back out of the door.
‘N-n-n-no, Herod, th-these g-g-g-gentlemen were j-just leaving.’
‘Why are you stammering with me, old friend? That is most unlike you.’
Pallas glanced at Vespasian and indicated with his head to the door.
‘We shall leave you with your new guest, noble Claudius,’ Vespasian said, understanding the gesture and walking towards the exit.
‘Not until you have introduced me, surely, Claudius?’ Herod said, eyeing Pallas suspiciously. ‘Pallas I know, he’s your mother’s steward; and Senator Corbulo, good day to you.’ Corbulo nodded back. ‘But I have not had the pleasure of this young gentleman’s acquaintance.’ He gave Vespasian an unctuous smile.
‘B-but of course,’ Claudius agreed, his long face reddening.
Vespasian stood in embarrassed silence as Claudius stammered his way through his full name, dribbling copious amounts of saliva from each corner of his mouth, which he tried to stem with a fold of his toga.
‘You make your host very nervous, Vespasian,’ Herod said, taking his forearm, ‘now why would that be, I wonder?’ He took another wary look in Pallas’ direction and then looked back at Vespasian. ‘I met your brother in Judaea and have had a couple of dealings with him here in Rome; please give him my regards.’
‘I’ll be sure to,’ Vespasian replied, curious as to why Sabinus would have had dealings with a man who had insulted him.
‘But please, do not let me detain you any further.’
‘I look forward to enjoying a longer meeting with you, Herod,’ Vespasian said politely if not quite truthfully.
‘Indeed, and so do I,’ Herod replied, equally politely. ‘Eutyches, get back in here, you fool; you’ve business to attend to.’
