Rome’s Fallen Eagle (10 page)

‘Evidently not, Narcissus.’

Narcissus nodded slowly. ‘You just forgot to share it with me. Well, we can all be a little forgetful at times; but no matter, Sabinus is with us now. I assume that you’ve managed to get him here unnoticed.’

‘Apart from us, only Caenis and Vespasian’s wife know that he’s here in Rome, and they will keep that secret,’ Pallas confirmed.

‘And my two lads, sir,’ Magnus put in, ‘and my slave, but they’re all loyal.’

‘I’m sure they are, Magnus, but they’re also irrelevant; as are you.’ Narcissus waved a hand. ‘You can go.’

Magnus shrugged, then turned and walked out; the clerk followed him, closing the door.

Narcissus played with the point of his beard, ruminating for a few moments in the silence. ‘I imagine that you’ve been thorough, Pallas, and have ensured that Herod Agrippa doesn’t go sneaking to our patron, undermining us if we keep this between ourselves?’

‘Sabinus and I have just had a short conversation with our eastern friend. I told him that I was minded to block the addition of the two tetrarchies that he’s asking to be incorporated into his kingdom on the basis that it would be a considerable loss of revenue to the imperial treasury which, after Caligula’s excesses, we can ill afford. I then asked him to look carefully at Sabinus and tell me if he was convinced that he was the man he’d seen just before Caligula was assassinated.’

Narcissus pretended to look interested. ‘And?’

‘Regrettably, after further consideration, he now feels that he has made a mistake. He thinks that we may never know who that man was.’

‘I see, so Sabinus could now be considered innocent; admirably done, dear partner.’ Narcissus flicked a look to
Callistus as if to gauge his thoughts. His face was unreadable to Vespasian but Narcissus seemed to gain some insight; he nodded cogitatively and then arranged a couple of scrolls on the desk in front of him. ‘So, to business, gentlemen. I recommend that we confine ourselves to straight talking; I think we all know each others’ positions. So let me begin. Sabinus, were you the masked man who took part in Caligula’s assassination?’

‘No.’

Narcissus pointed vaguely to Sabinus’ right thigh. ‘Lift up your tunic.’

Sabinus glanced at Pallas, who widened his eyes a fraction; he slowly revealed the bandaging.

‘I’ll ask you again. Were you the masked man who took part in Caligula’s assassination?’

Sabinus hesitated for a moment before conceding the point. ‘Yes, imperial secretary.’

‘You may drop the formalities now that we are all old friends together.’

‘Indeed, Narcissus.’

‘Good. Your comrades are due to be executed as soon as I command it. I have delayed it until today so that they can spend a few last hours with their wives and children. I’ve allowed that because I am not insensible to the fact that they have done my patron, me and indeed the whole of Rome, especially its treasury, a great service in ridding us finally of Caligula. However, they must die for obvious reasons. And, at the moment, despite Pallas’ best efforts to clear you, you may well be joining them.’

Sabinus lowered his head.

Vespasian felt his guts tense.

Narcissus picked up a scroll and rolled it in his hands. ‘I don’t know whether you’re all aware that the conspirators had a deal with Pallas, Callistus and me to protect them against any retribution, in return for declaring Claudius emperor. They kept their side of the bargain but only the most naïve fool would expect us to keep ours.’ He glanced at Pallas and Callistus.

‘It would be a recipe for instability,’ Callistus stated.

Pallas nodded once in agreement.

‘Quite so,’ Narcissus concurred. ‘However, the great advantage of this deal was that we have been able to prepare, for the past few months, for our patron’s elevation. My agents have been busy, sounding people out, ascertaining how they would react to a drooling cripple who has been the butt of countless jokes, becoming emperor.’ He unravelled the scroll. ‘This is a condensation of the reports from my agents in the Rhenus legions and it does not make for comforting reading.’ He perused the contents for a few moments as if to remind himself. ‘It’s not good at all; nor is that one.’ He indicated to the second scroll in front of him. ‘That is from the Danubius. In short: the officers think of Claudius as a laughing stock and the men are at best ambivalent – even though he’s the brother of their favourite, Germanicus. And I have no reason to think that anyone here in Rome thinks any differently.’

‘Nonsense, Narcissus,’ Gaius protested. ‘We are great admirers of Claudius; his knowledge of law and history …’

‘Spare me the platitudes, Gaius,’ Narcissus cut in, waving the scroll at him. ‘I said that we would be straight talking. Do you really want Claudius as emperor?’

Gaius’ mouth fell open, his jowls wobbling.

‘Well?’ Narcissus pressed.

‘It’s not ideal,’ Gaius conceded.

‘No, it’s not ideal for most people. But it is for me.’ He looked at his colleagues. ‘As it is for Pallas and Callistus.’

‘It suits us perfectly,’ Callistus confirmed.

‘And what’s more, it’s a fact: Claudius
is
emperor,’ Pallas stated.

‘Yes, he is.’ Narcissus almost purred with pleasure. ‘But the question is: how do we keep him there? We’ve bought the Guard, so in Rome Claudius is safe. But what if the legions on the Rhenus mutiny as they did on Tiberius’ ascension? Civil war? A breakup of the Empire? Or perhaps both. That cannot be allowed to happen. So how do we secure our malformed patron in his office?’ Narcissus’ eyes slowly came to rest on Vespasian.

In a moment of clarity, Vespasian now saw that the three freedmen had been acting in concert over a different matter. This
was never going to be a meeting about saving Sabinus’ life; there was much more to it than that. Narcissus’ look told him that this was about his, Vespasian’s, role in securing the new regime. Pallas had merely used the opportunity to try and add Sabinus to whatever was about to be negotiated. In removing the threat of Herod Agrippa’s testimony he had given Narcissus a face-saving way of sparing him even though he had admitted his guilt. He now saw where they were heading. ‘Make the army respect him, perhaps even love him. He needs a victory.’

‘Exactly; and he needs it soon.’ Narcissus rolled up the report and discarded it to one side as if it offended him. ‘But where?’

Silence filled the room so that the marching stamp of a small column of men outside the window could be clearly heard.

After a few moments, Sabinus brought himself out of his morbid introspection. ‘Germania is out of the question since Varus lost the Seventeenth, Eighteenth and Nineteenth Legions there. The border is now set on the Rhenus; it would be hard to persuade the legions to cross it and, even if they would be willing, it would not be a quick victory.’

‘No, it wouldn’t,’ Pallas agreed easily. ‘Nor would any attempt to annex the lands north of the Danubius be the work of just a year or two.’

‘And the legions refused to embark onto the ships when Caligula attempted to cross to Britannia,’ Callistus said as if he was reciting from a well-rehearsed script.

‘There’s nothing worth having south of our provinces in Africa,’ Narcissus carried on almost seamlessly. ‘We are planning to annex Mauretania, further west; Suetonius Paulinus has been given that task and, as a reward for his timely declaration of loyalty, the Emperor has made Hosidius Geta legate of one of the legions under Paulinus’ command.’ Narcissus paused for a moment in thought, as if a fact had just occurred to him. ‘But it is of little value and would hardly be a martial feat. Not really deserving of a triumph, although I’m sure the Senate will vote Claudius one, which he will, of course, modestly refuse.’

‘We could always annex Thracia.’

‘Indeed, my dear Callistus, but where’s the glory in that? And in the east, Armenia has a Roman client king on its throne. So all that leaves is Parthia.’

Pallas nodded, taking up the reins of the argument without a pause. ‘However, Lucius Vitellius fought a successful campaign there a few years ago and for the moment we have a settlement that is working in our interests. So we should forget going east and, anyway, if we did go that way it’s too great an area to hold without committing the sort of resources that we just cannot afford. So that only leaves one financially viable option.’

‘Yes, Pallas, you are so right. It only leaves Britannia,’ Narcissus said slowly. ‘But this time we do it properly. Callistus, please.’

Callistus cleared his throat. ‘When my former patron, Caligula, was planning his haphazard attempt to invade Britannia, I played a major role in co-ordinating all the various elements. I know that an invasion of Britannia is eminently possible. And it has three great advantages: firstly, we’ve already put the entire infrastructure in place; this will save us millions.’ He twitched one corner of his mouth at Pallas in what Vespasian assumed was his equivalent of a self-congratulatory beam; a suggestion of a raised eyebrow signalled Pallas’ approval. ‘We already have a disembarkation port, Gesoriacum, filled with granaries, warehouses, workshops and supply depots; the Gallic provinces are very fertile, so we will have ample supplies with which to fill them. There are still a goodly amount of ships up there, although nowhere near the thousand or so that we’ll need, but that will be addressed by our senior general on the northern coast, Publius Gabinius Secundus, the Emperor’s personal friend.

‘Secondly, we have two exiled British Kings, Adminios and Verica, currently here in Rome asking us to restore them to their thrones; this gives us an air of legitimacy and pro-Roman local rulers once we’re successful.

‘And the third great advantage is that the chief city in the south of the island, Camulodunum, is no more than a hard summer’s campaigning from where we would land. Claudius could have his victory within one season.’

‘If the legions don’t refuse to embark,’ Pallas reminded everyone.

‘
If
the legions don’t refuse to embark,’ Narcissus repeated. His gaze now wandered to Sabinus.

‘How do you propose to make them this time, Narcissus?’ Sabinus asked, interested, his present dilemma seemingly forgotten.

‘That’s how you and your brother now have the chance to save your life, my friend. Had it not been for Pallas’ adroit handling of your predicament – albeit behind my back – you would have been a dead man.’ He paused and gave Pallas a fleeting look of disapproval that carried far more weight than the minuscule movements of the facial muscles outwardly conveyed. ‘However, I now find myself free to give you this opportunity in payment for the debt I still owe you for the discretion you showed over my patron’s foolish letter. Will you take it, not knowing what it is, or would you prefer to die with the others?’

Vespasian glanced at his brother, relief flooding through his body. Gaius exhaled as if he had been holding his breath for the entire meeting.

It was an easy question for Sabinus. ‘I’ll take it, Narcissus, whatever it is.’

‘Good. Palagios!’

The door opened and the clerk walked in. ‘Yes, imperial secretary.’

‘Are the prisoners ready?’

‘Yes, imperial secretary.’

Narcissus rose. ‘Come with me, Sabinus; Vespasian, you’d better help him.’ Pulling back the curtain, he opened the door and stepped through.

Vespasian and Sabinus followed him out into a small courtyard, grey with drizzle. Six men knelt at its centre before a wooden block; each guarded by a Praetorian with a drawn sword under the command of a centurion. The closest prisoner raised his auburn head and smiled in resignation at the brothers, his pinched face more pallid than ever.

‘Proceed, centurion,’ Narcissus ordered, ‘there will be no one else added to their number. Centurion Lupus first.’

‘Yes, imperial secretary.’

As Lupus was led forwards to the block Sabinus grabbed Narcissus’ arm. ‘You can’t make me watch my wife’s brother’s execution.’

Narcissus glanced down at the hand grasping his arm and removed it. ‘You are in no position to make demands, Sabinus; unless, that is, you wish to demand to join them.’

Vespasian placed an arm around his brother’s shoulders and pulled him away. ‘There’s nothing to be gained by arguing.’

Lupus knelt before the block, placing his hands upon it as the Praetorian guarding him touched the back of his neck with his blade; Lupus tensed as the weapon was raised, hunching his shoulders close to his head. The sword flashed down; Lupus screamed in agony as it embedded itself in the base of his neck, severing his spinal column but not his head. Paralysis was almost instantaneous and Lupus slumped to the ground, bleeding profusely but still alive.

Narcissus tutted. ‘I would expect a Praetorian centurion to be able to hold himself with a little more dignity and extend his neck when faced with death.’

As Lupus’ limp body was stretched out with his head over the block, his eyes staring in agonised terror, Vespasian glanced at Clemens; he held himself calmly as the executioner brought down his sword a second time and struck off Lupus’ head in an eruption of spurting gore.

‘That’s better,’ Narcissus commented as the headless corpse was dragged away from the block, leaving a copious trail of blood across the wet paving stones. ‘I think we should have Prefect Clemens next, let’s see if he can do better.’

Sabinus stiffened, the muscles in his cheeks pulsating as he struggled to keep himself under control. Vespasian kept his arm firmly around his shoulders.

Narcissus turned to the brothers. ‘Do you know, I think you were right, Sabinus, it would be wrong for me to make you watch Clemens’ execution. I think that the perilousness of your situation would be far better stressed if you performed the deed yourself.’

‘I can’t execute Clemens!’

‘Of course you can; if you don’t I’ll have him execute you before he’s despatched.’

‘Do it, Sabinus,’ Clemens called as he was led to the block. ‘If I’m not to be allowed the dignity of suicide by this doublecrossing, oily Greek freedman then I would rather die at your hand than have the humiliation of a mere ranker taking my life.’

Sabinus shook his head, tears welling in his eyes.