False God of Rome

banished by the previous regime and had pardoned those still awaiting sentence, placing the House in his debt. He had then insulted them by refusing to accept the honours that they had voted for him in gratitude and ordered that they should never try and honour him again, thus demonstrating that he was not a creation of the Senate and did not rule by their favour.

To make the same point to what remained of his family he had freed Herod Agrippa, against the express wishes of Antonia, and had made him king of the Jewish tetrarchies of Batanaea and Trachonitius, east of the Jordan River; he had also given him a chain of solid gold to replace the one of iron with which he had been chained to his cell’s wall.

To counter the effect of these attacks on the aristocracy he added to his popularity with the common people, milking the affection that they bore him, by personally bringing back the bones of his mother and two brothers from their island graves and interring them in the Mausoleum of Augustus in a ceremony so charged with emotion that no one in the vast crowd was left unmoved. Tears streamed down their faces as they watched their darling mourning, with sombre dignity, the family that had been so cruelly wrenched from him by the two people whom they hated most: Tiberius and Sejanus. The Senate had watched on, stony-faced, as he pulled this theatrical coup, knowing that, because of the guilt that they bore from their complicity with the murders of the imperial family, they had once again been sidelined. In a final insult to Antonia he had forbidden her to attend.

Not satisfied with the adulation he received from the people when he appeared at the circus or in the Forum, Caligula had taken to being carried around the city in an open litter throwing coinage left and right while displaying to the crowd, at their behest, his huge penis — rumour of which had quickly travelled around Rome after its first public display at Balbus’ tavern.

Vespasian had been obliged to participate in many of the extravaganzas in his capacity as a middle-ranking Roman magistrate and friend of the Emperor and had been sickened by their extravagance. He had shared in a banquet for hundreds of senators, equites and their wives where each man had been given a new toga, each woman a new palla, and the gustatio had been of solid gold shaped as food, which the guests had been allowed to keep; he had watched with disgust — but had also taken part in — the fawning thanks that the guests had given their host. He had sat in the circus all day as four hundred bears and another four hundred assorted wild beasts were slaughtered in a spectacle that was, even by Rome’s standards, excessive. Forced to endure it, thanks to Caligula’s new policy of punishing severely anyone of importance who either left early or failed to turn up, Vespasian had watched pretending, with self-preserving sycophancy, to enjoy it, while the crowd cheered their benefactor who officiated over the blood-bath in the imperial enclosure surrounded by the priests of Augustus and being masturbated by his sisters and the most skilful courtesans in Rome.

Vespasian had had enough but there was nothing that he could do; he was trapped, as was everyone in Rome, and was obliged to share in this compulsory fun forced upon him by a seemingly deranged emperor supported by the blades of a loyal, well-rewarded Praetorian Guard.

A soft voice from behind him disturbed his grim thoughts. ‘I thought that I’d find you here.’

He turned to see Caenis in the doorway; her eyes were red and rimmed with tears.

‘Caenis, what’s wrong?’ he asked, walking over to her.

‘My mistress sent me to find you, you must come at once.’

‘Of course. What’s happening?’

‘She wants to say goodbye.’

‘Goodbye? Where’s she going?’

Caenis burst into tears and flung her arms around his neck sobbing. ‘To meet the Ferryman.’

‘I’ve had a succession of people, far more prestigious than you, Vespasian, trying to dissuade me,’ Antonia said, ‘so don’t waste my time or yours; my mind is made up.’

‘But why, domina?’ Vespasian sat opposite Antonia, across her oaken desk in her private room. The lowering sun filtered through the bay window, a shaft hit her face and he could see lines of care and trouble etched around her eyes and mouth; for the first time she looked very old.

‘Because I will not sit by and watch impotently while that fool of a grandson of mine bankrupts the Empire and throws away my family’s hold over it. He ignores my advice and humiliates me in public; I was not even allowed to attend my other grandsons’ interment. I have no control any more. The money is already starting to run out and if he’s to keep buying the love of the mob then he’ll have to find a new supply; the treason trials will start again and the rich and once-powerful will lose their estates so that the poor can be kept in bread and circuses. The Senate will tear itself apart as individuals denounce each other in an effort to stay alive, until what’s left of it will realise that unless something changes they will all die; which is, of course, what Gaius wants. Within three or four years he will be assassinated, and what then? The Guard will choose its own emperor, but who?’

‘Claudius or Tiberius Gemellus, perhaps.’

‘Tiberius Gemellus will be dead before the year is out, Gaius will see to that, but that will be no loss; he has too much of his mother, Livilla, in him. And Claudius, well, who knows? I’ve left this house and as much of my estate to him as possible — the larger part I have left to Gaius to squander — perhaps the money will help Claudius if he is allowed to live, and that is part of the reason why I’m taking my own life. Claudius surprised everybody while he was Consul; he knew all the procedures, prayers and forms of words and very rarely stuttered over them or brought shame on the House; people are looking upon him in a new light. With me alive to support him, Gaius will see him as a threat and will most certainly have him killed, but with me dead there is a chance that he will carry on regarding him as an object of fun and worth keeping alive just for the amusement of it.

‘My freedmen and — women will naturally transfer their allegiance to Claudius so Caenis will have a patron not a master, as I’ve freed her in my will.’

Vespasian’s eyes widened, the moment for which he had longed for eleven years had finally arrived; yet it had come in such bleak circumstances.

‘This is one reason why I have called you here, Vespasian; Caenis is like a daughter to me and I need to know that she will be safe, you must look after her for me.’

‘Of course, domina, but how can I do that if she’s living under Claudius’ roof?’

‘She won’t be; Claudius isn’t strong enough to resist Caligula if he should send the Guard to fetch her for him. If Caligula asks you about her, tell him that she has gone to Egypt with Felix to help him with my affairs there. I offered that she should do just that but she wanted to remain here, so I have bought her a house on the Quirinal very close to your uncle’s; take her there tonight once I am gone. She will be safe enough if she stays inside; only you, Pallas and I know of it.’

‘I will, domina, and thank you, you’re most generous.’

Antonia smiled. ‘It is a gift for Caenis, not for you, although I assume that you will benefit from it. For you I have something else, but first I have a request.’

‘Anything you ask, domina.’

Antonia chuckled wryly, accentuating her care-lines. ‘I would never say that again if I were you, Vespasian, you may find yourself unable to keep your word.’

Vespasian flushed.

The chuckle turned into a laugh. ‘And letting your feelings play on your face like that is something that you need to start controlling. But no more advice, time is short.

‘Gaius has kept his word to Macro and has promised him Egypt but not until next year, once he feels completely secure in Rome. This comes as no surprise as he still seems to be bedding Ennia as part of his busy sexual schedule. However, even though his new wife died in childbirth in January he’s showing no sign of wanting to make Ennia his empress as he had promised. I believe that this is because he has become frightened of Macro; he’s realised that just as Macro made him emperor he could easily take it away. You must exploit this fear; play on it anytime that you can. I have asked Clemens to do the same thing; he has always been loyal to Gaius and I think that Gaius may soon come to realise that he would be much safer with his friend Clemens as his Praetorian prefect rather than his potential rival Macro. If that could come about, then it would be just a question of convincing Clemens that Gaius is unfit to rule and the Guard should kill him.’

‘You’re asking me to help bring about your grandson’s death?’

‘Someone’s got to before he goes completely mad and brings down Rome. When that comes to pass Claudius must be made emperor; I have charged Pallas with keeping him out of trouble and to make sure that he doesn’t dabble in politics and continues playing the fool.’

‘And if he’s not successful, what then?’