Corvinus’ eyes narrowed fractionally. ‘Oh yes, we’ve met. Until tomorrow, then.’ He turned his horse and sped away.
Vespasian looked at his brother in apprehension. ‘How do you know him?’
‘Corvinus? We live on the same street on the Aventine and have often found ourselves walking home together from the Senate since I got back. We’ve become quite friendly in a short time. But I’m surprised that he’s never mentioned knowing you; he’s asked about the family and I mentioned your name.’
‘What else have you told him?’
‘Oh, nothing that I wouldn’t mention to any senator who makes a polite enquiry: where we come from, who our parents are, who my wife’s family are; that sort of thing.’
‘Did you tell him about Caenis?’
‘I don’t think so; why?’
‘He has no cause to like me; in fact, he’s threatened me.’
‘Why would that be, dear boy?’ Gaius asked, looking concernedly in Corvinus’ direction.
‘He was a cavalry prefect while I was in Cyrenaica, I made a couple of decisions that he didn’t like — and perhaps he was right. Do you know him?’
‘Marcus Valerius Messala Corvinus? Of course I know of him. It would seem that you’ve made yourself an enemy who has the potential to be rather influential. Provided his future brother-in-law manages to stay alive, his sister could well end up as empress.’
‘How could-’ Vespasian stopped suddenly and sucked in his breath as he remembered a pair of dark eyes glaring at him as he laughed at one of Caligula’s jokes.
Gaius nodded gravely. ‘Yes, dear boy, his sister is Claudius’ future wife: Valeria Messalina.’
It was with a certain amount of trepidation that the brothers approached Caligula’s pavilion the following morning in the pale dawn. All around them the business of dismantling the camp was progressing apace and smoke and steam from freshly doused cooking fires swirled on the warm sea breeze.
Caligula’s close entourage were already gathering to greet him and stood around the entrance murmuring in small groups.
The brothers dismounted and handed their horses to a couple of slaves; from over by the pavilion entrance they saw a familiar face detaching himself from a group consisting of Claudius, Asiaticus, Pallas and, much to Vespasian’s unease, Narcissus.
‘I wondered if I would see you two here,’ Corbulo said, walking over to them.
‘Corbulo, you’re well, I trust,’ Vespasian replied, grasping his forearm.
‘As well as can be expected for a man who has had to build a three-and-a-half mile-extension of the Via Appia over more than two thousand ships in less than two months.’ He gripped Sabinus’ arm. ‘That’s the last time that I make a speech in the Senate complaining about the state of the roads.’
Vespasian had to suppress a grin. ‘Is that why he gave you the task?’
Corbulo’s long, aristocratic face looked downcast. ‘Yes, he said if I didn’t like the roads as they were then I could build him a nice new one. Now my family will be associated with the biggest waste of money ever, and to compound our dishonour my whore of a half-sister has been disgracing herself by cavorting in public with the Emperor at any and every opportunity; she’s even got herself pregnant by him, or at least she claims it’s by him.’
‘We hadn’t heard,’ Sabinus said sympathetically. ‘I’m sorry for your shame.’
‘Well, you’ve both been away and I’d rather that you heard it from me. Anyway, she’s been down here for the last few days. Caligula sent her to me to ensure that she rests during the pregnancy because if it goes its full term he plans to marry her. Although judging by the tired looks of the turma of Praetorian cavalry that escorted her here I don’t think that she had much rest on the way down.’
‘So is the road ready?’ Vespasian asked, anxious to change the subject before the grin managed to overcome his self-control.
‘Of course it’s ready,’ Corbulo snapped, ‘I’m a Domitius, we complete our tasks, however ludicrous.’
‘Yes of course, that’s why the Emperor chose you.’
‘I can’t say that it was made any easier by being forced to work with that jumped-up freedman, Narcissus. The man’s intolerably addicted to power; he even tried to give me an order once, can you imagine it?’
‘I’m sure Caligula will reward you well for your pains.’
Corbulo puffed up with pride. ‘He’s nominating me as his colleague in the consulship next year; that will go some way to restoring the family’s honour.’
Vespasian thought it best not to tell Corbulo that Caligula was also thinking of nominating his horse. ‘He’s nominated me a praetor.’
Corbulo looked down his highborn nose at Vespasian. ‘It’s most unusual for a New Man to be given that honour in the first year that he’s eligible for it. What have you done to deserve that?’
‘Oh, the same sort of ludicrous things as you; just obeying Caligula’s will.’
The crowd around the pavilion suddenly went silent as Clemens appeared from within. ‘Senators and People of Rome,’ he called out, ‘I give you your Emperor, the Divine Gaius, Lord of land and sea.’
‘Hail Divine Gaius, Lord of land and sea!’ the crowd began to obediently chant.
After a few choruses the pavilion flaps opened and Caligula appeared wearing Alexander’s breastplate over which a cloak-like
Caligula raised his sword and shield to the heavens and held his head back soaking up the laudatory chant. ‘Today,’ he called out eventually, ‘I complete my greatest achievement so far. I will ride my chariot across the water in fellowship with my brother Neptune; our feud is at an end!’
Despite being uncertain as to the nature of the feud the crowd cheered in relief.
‘Once this day is completed we will return to Rome to prepare for a year of conquest to start next spring. To show the world that I am the true Lord of land and sea I will lead our armies into Germania and exorcise the shame that still sullies Roman honour by retrieving the one remaining lost eagle from the Teutoburg Forest disaster: that of the Seventeenth Legion. When that is done we shall proceed north to the edge of the known world and, in concert with my brother Neptune, I will lead our armies across the sea and conquer, for me and for Rome, Britannia.’
Even Vespasian found himself getting carried away by the magnitude of the idea along with the rest of the crowd: here at last was an enterprise that would not be a vast exercise in squandering money, it would be for the greater glory and profit of Rome. Perhaps, just perhaps, the young Emperor had found a way to satisfy at the same time his desire for the grandiose statement — no matter what the cost in lives and coin — and his subjects’ desire for conquest and renown.
‘Follow me, my friends,’ Caligula shouted, ‘follow me to the bridge and we shall ride across to the victory and the glory that awaits us on the other side.’
For the first time in many years Vespasian followed Caligula willingly.
CHAPTER XXIIII
Vespasian could not contain a gasp of surprise as the head of the column, led by Caligula in his quadriga, crested the western slope of Mount Nuova at the most northerly point of the Bay of Neapolis.
Caligula turned in his chariot and shouted triumphantly at the sea of faces, all with the same expression of astonishment written upon them. ‘What did I tell you, my friends? Is it not truly amazing, the work of a god?’
It was undeniably truly amazing. Below them, stretching from Baiae, just north of the humped Promontory of Misenum, right across to Puteoli, three and a half miles away across the glittering azure water, stretched a double line of ships, chained together side by side, undulating gently on the calm swell of the sea. Across them had been laid a road, straight as the Via Appia, but wider, much wider. However, the bridge was not just a straight line; at intervals along its length single lines of ships curved out like tentacles to end up in peninsulas of round clusters of
