Rome’s Fallen Eagle (7 page)

The procession eventually neared the Senate House in front of which, in an outrageous breach of all precedent, stood Narcissus, Pallas and Callistus.

Doing their best to ignore the affront, the Consuls mounted the steps and positioned themselves to either side of the open doors, ready to welcome their Emperor. The rest of the Senate spread out, in order of precedence, on the steps, leaving a path to the doors for Claudius.

The imperial chair came to a halt at the foot of the Senate House steps.

‘This should be interesting,’ Gaius commented to Vespasian as the sweating slaves stopped and made ready to lower it. It swayed slightly.

A look of panic swept across Claudius’ face and he gripped the chair’s arms.

Vespasian half closed his eyes. ‘I can hardly bear to watch; I don’t know how they got him up there but it must have been in private. I don’t think that they’ve thought about this part.’

‘Wait!’ Narcissus almost shrieked above the din. Claudius looked gratefully at him, twitching almost uncontrollably.

Narcissus mounted the steps and spoke briefly to the Senior Consul. Secundus’ face tensed, he drew himself up and glared at the freedman in outrage. Narcissus muttered a few more words and then raised his brow questioningly, staring with steely eyes at the Consul.

After a few moments Secundus’ shoulders sagged, he nodded almost imperceptibly; he descended the steps towards Claudius and looked up at him. ‘Princeps, there is no need for you to step down to us; we will take the oath here on the steps of the Curia.’

There was stirring and muttering all around Vespasian and Gaius. How dare a jumped-up freedman humiliate the ancient governing body of Rome thus? But no one dared step forward to complain.

‘There’s still one thing that we can take heart in, dear boy,’ Gaius muttered as preparations got under way to take the auspices. ‘However much Claudius’ freedmen seek to draw power to themselves, Claudius will always need members of the senatorial order to command his legions and govern the provinces. Narcissus, Pallas and Callistus can never take that away from us.’

‘Perhaps, but who will decide who gets those posts, them or the Emperor?’ Vespasian glanced over to where Pallas stood, but the freedman’s face, as always, remained neutral.

The auspices were taken and, unsurprisingly, the day was found to be eminently favourable for the business of Rome. The will of the Senate, that Claudius should be emperor, was heralded around the Forum to tumultuous cheering; then the oath of loyalty was administered to the Senate and the Urban Cohorts. This was followed by a proclamation that all the legions of the Empire should swear their loyalty to the new Emperor.

Then the speeches started.

By the time the final speaker drew to a long-winded close it was well past the eighth hour of the day and everyone just wanted to get home. Claudius made a short speech of thanks, announcing seven days of games to rapturous applause, and then the procession turned about and headed back towards the Palatine. The only things that had marred the proceedings had
been the early, unscheduled, departure of Messalina and the collapse of one of Claudius’ chair-bearers, neither of which had surprised anyone.

The imperial cortège disappeared up the Via Sacra and the huge crowd began to disperse, talking animatedly of the coming games.

‘Another expensive time for the treasury coming up,’ Gaius reflected as he and Vespasian jostled with their peers to get down the Senate House steps.

Vespasian smiled ruefully. ‘It’ll be cheaper than buying the Praetorian Guard.’

‘But that was a sound investment as I think you’d agree, gentlemen.’ Vespasian and Gaius turned to see Pallas; he put a hand around their shoulders and added quietly: ‘But perhaps not enough to ultimately secure Claudius’ position. Walk with me, my friends.’

Pallas led Vespasian and Gaius away from the Senate House, attracting many an envious stare from the mass of senators seeing two of their number so openly favoured by one of the new powers in Rome – however far beneath them in status they considered him to be.

‘Rest assured that I would’ve found you two today without you sending me that note, Senator Pollo,’ Pallas informed them once they were out of earshot of anyone of importance.

Gaius inclined his head, acknowledging the favour. ‘That is good to know, Pallas; but please, call me Gaius in private as we are friends, are we not?’

‘We are friends, although not of equal social standing.’

Vespasian looked Pallas in the eye and added: ‘Or of equal influence.’

Pallas gave a rare half-smile. ‘Yes, Vespasian, I’m afraid that you’re right, my influence is going to be considerable; I am to be the imperial secretary to the treasury.’

Gaius was dumbfounded.

Vespasian looked at Pallas in disbelief. ‘But there is no such post!’

‘There is now. You see, gentlemen, Narcissus, Callistus and I have had plenty of warning of this change of government and time to plan how our patron could best be served. As you two are amongst the few people in Rome to know, he is of reasonable intelligence – if somewhat chaotic – but harbours both an overinflated opinion of his own talents and a dismissive view of those of others. He is therefore, more than anything, inconsolably bitter about how he has been mocked and overlooked.’

‘But Caligula made him consul,’ Vespasian pointed out.

Pallas raised a thick eyebrow. ‘As a joke; although I think everybody, especially his mother, was surprised by how well he carried it off. The point is that he’s now distrustful of everyone who has not supported him in the past, which is most people in Rome, with very few exceptions.’

Gaius slapped Pallas on the back. ‘The most notable of whom being his freedmen, I presume?’

‘Exactly, Gaius. And when the Senate refused to declare Claudius emperor immediately – an eventuality that we freedmen had foreseen – he knew for sure that he could never trust them. At that point it was easy to persuade him to implement our plan.’

‘Bypass the Senate?’ Vespasian queried as they wandered into Caesar’s Forum, dominated by a huge equestrian statue of the man who once tried to impose his will upon Rome.

‘We prefer to call it: centralising government. From now on all decisions will be made by the Emperor.’

‘With the help of those closest to him,’ Gaius added.

‘Naturally the business of running the Empire is too great a burden for one man, so that is why his loyal freedmen will assist him: myself in the treasury, Callistus in the law courts and Narcissus … well, Narcissus will be in charge of his correspondence.’

Gaius understood immediately. ‘Access to him, in other words; which means that he’ll have power over foreign and domestic policy, as well as appointments and …’ Gaius paused and looked meaningfully at Pallas, ‘and appealing to the Emperor on life and death issues?’

Pallas nodded slowly.

‘So you can’t help us with our problem?’

‘Not directly, as much as I would like to be able to, for all the courtesy you and Vespasian have shown me in the past. Narcissus, Callistus and I have agreed not to interfere in each others’ spheres of influence; and, although I can’t see that being adhered to over the years, it’s best to keep to that agreement for as long as possible. Sabinus’ life is out of my hands; you have to go to Narcissus.’

‘We could appeal directly to Claudius.’

‘That would be impossible and, besides, it wouldn’t be wise. Claudius doesn’t know of Sabinus’ part in the assassination and it would be best to keep it like that. This morning, Herod Agrippa told Narcissus and me – with far too much glee for my taste – that he now knew that the masked assassin whom he and Claudius had met in the passage was Sabinus. He’d realised it when he saw your eyes, Vespasian, in the Senate yesterday, it jogged his memory.’

‘We look so similar, why didn’t he think that it was me?’

‘Because when the assassin spoke he didn’t have your Sabine accent, so it had to be your brother as it’s well known that he disguises his origins. For obvious reasons we thought that was impossible but he was convinced. He insisted that we should find him and have him executed tomorrow along with all the rest. If we didn’t then he would go to Claudius.’

‘He could’ve just gone straight to him.’

‘That wouldn’t have suited his purposes. He’s interested in power as well as revenge; he desperately wants Claudius to trust him and leave him to his own devices in his kingdom. We are counselling against that. Herod hoped that we would refuse his demand and then he could go to Claudius and tell him that his freedmen were protecting one of his nephew’s killers, thereby making him seem a more faithful adviser than us. However, Narcissus disappointed him and agreed; I then had no choice but to do the same.’

Vespasian and Gaius looked at Pallas aghast.

‘You’re going to be responsible for having Sabinus found and executed?’ Vespasian almost shouted.

Pallas remained calm. ‘I didn’t say that, I said that I agreed to do so. I had no choice once Narcissus knew his identity; I had to be seen as co-operating with my colleague. Had Herod Agrippa just come to me, I could have made a very real threat that would have kept his mouth shut; but he didn’t, so we must work with the situation as it is.

‘Now, I’ve done nothing to help find Sabinus even though I can guess where he is. We know that he was wounded; two of the German Bodyguards survived their foolish attack on Lupus’ century and withdrew and waited until they saw one of the assassins leave the palace complex. They followed him, waylaying him at the foot of the Palatine. The assassin killed one and wounded the other. Callistus had the wounded man questioned; thankfully he didn’t see his face but he claims to have cut the assassin’s thigh open; Sabinus must therefore still be in Rome.’

Vespasian put his hand to his forehead. ‘I saw him! It was as we came out of the alley, Uncle; a man was hobbling away. That must have been Sabinus. I decided to go in the other direction because he was armed.’

‘It’s as well that you did,’ Pallas said. ‘Had you met there and taken him home he would be sitting in a cell by now. Now that Narcissus knows it was Sabinus, he’s had your house, Gaius, and Sabinus’ house on the Aventine as well as Caenis’ house searched this morning during the ceremony.’

‘He’s done what? How dare he!’ Gaius exploded.

Vespasian wondered anxiously how Flavia and Caenis would have reacted to having their privacy violated; he was not looking forward to having to give either of them an explanation.

‘Times have changed, Gaius,’ Pallas said quietly. ‘Narcissus dares because he has the power to do so and also because he must; there is more than just a man’s life at stake here. We cannot allow Herod Agrippa to gain Claudius’ unwavering trust. Since Caligula gave him his kingdom three years ago he has started to repair the defences of Jerusalem, making it one of the most formidable cities in the East. He has sworn to Claudius that it is to defend Rome’s interests against the Parthians; Claudius believes him and has reconfirmed him in his kingdom. But we all know
that Jerusalem’s defences look west as well as east and we all know, too, what the Jews think about Roman rule. If Judaea rebels then the flames of that revolt could spread throughout the East, fanned by the Parthians who are hungry to have access to Our Sea again, denied to them since Alexander’s time. We have to undermine Claudius’ trust in Herod Agrippa so that eventually we can topple him. We can’t begin to do that if he tells him that we are sheltering one of Caligula’s killers.’

Vespasian could see the logic of it, however distasteful. ‘So what can we do, then, Pallas?’

‘Firstly you need to move Sabinus from where I guess he’s hiding, at Magnus’ Crossroads Brotherhood’s tavern. It won’t be long until Narcissus remembers your family’s relationship with him; I’ve done nothing to remind him of that fact. You should take him to your house, Gaius; it should be safe there now that it’s been searched. The only hope we have of Narcissus sparing Sabinus is if it is never known that he took part in the assassination.’

‘But what about Herod Agrippa?’ Gaius asked.

‘He can be dealt with; I can assure you of that. Fortunately we can rely upon Herod Agrippa preferring power over revenge.’

Vespasian pulled his teeth over his lower lip. ‘At least we only have Narcissus to convince; he does, after all, owe me at least one favour.’

‘I know, and he also owes Sabinus; a fact that I reminded him of this morning.’

‘Thank you for that at least, my friend,’ Vespasian said with genuine feeling.

Pallas shrugged. ‘It’s not the only way in which I have been able to help. During our discussions, over the last month or so, on how best to secure our patron’s position, your names have both come up; Sabinus could still be of use to us. But first Narcissus has to be manoeuvred into a position whereby he feels that he can spare him.’

‘You mean that Sabinus could buy his life with a favour?’

‘We shall see. I’ve made an appointment at the second hour tomorrow for you to see Narcissus. I think that you should surprise him by taking Sabinus along too.’

CHAPTER III

T
HE SUN WAS
beginning to set and their long shadows preceded Vespasian and Gaius as they walked east along the crowded, tenement-lined Alta Semita towards its junction with the Vicus Longus on the southern slope of the Quirinal. Here, at the apex of the junction, stood a three-storey building that Vespasian had passed many times but had never entered: Magnus’ Crossroads Brotherhood’s tavern. It was used as the base from where the South Quirinal Crossroads Brotherhood, of which Magnus was the leader, ran their business of protection for the local traders and residents. It also housed the shrine to the Crossroads lares whose worship was the Brotherhood’s main responsibility and the original reason for their existence.

The plain wooden tables and benches outside were empty apart from two hard-looking men whose job, Vespasian guessed, was to waylay travellers who looked wealthy enough to afford the protection of the Brotherhood as they passed through their territory; just as his family had been waylaid upon their arrival in Rome, over fifteen years ago, when he had been a lad of sixteen.