The Furies of Rome (35 page)

Vespasian gave it a few moments’ thought. ‘Yes, I think I will. No matter how much he’s tried to manipulate me throughout my career, I think that, on balance, I owe him more than he owes me; I’ll go and pay my respects before he takes his life.’

‘And so will I.’ Caenis took his face in both hands and, going up on tiptoe, kissed Vespasian full on the lips. ‘Meanwhile, we haven’t got any appointments until the Senate meets tomorrow morning. I’m sure we could find something to do.’

Vespasian returned the kiss and then, with some urgency, led Caenis on through the atrium in the direction of her bedroom.

‘I give the floor to Faenius Rufus,’ Lucius Asinius Gallus, the presiding consul, announced after he had declared the auspices good for the business of Rome that day. ‘He will speak on behalf of leniency.’

There were murmurs of outrage from those senators of the more conservative persuasion as Rufus got to his feet. Some, Corvinus amongst them, went further, growling and gesturing threateningly at him. Through the open doors of the Senate House the Forum Romanum was packed with thousands of citizens and slaves awaiting news of the debate.

‘This should be interesting,’ Gaius whispered to Vespasian and Sabinus. ‘The honest man asking why over four hundred slaves should be condemned for the actions of one of their number.’

‘Conscript Fathers,’ Rufus declaimed, head held high with his left hand across his chest, clutching his toga, and his right hand down by his side, holding a scroll; the image of a republican orator. ‘The law is the law! But does it follow that the ways of our ancestors will always suit us in this modern age? In this instance I would argue no. In this instance we have a set of circumstances that our ancestors never had to think about. It is a religious issue.’ He paused to look around the chamber; that had gained everyone’s attention. ‘Most of us are aware of this new Jewish cult that has been slowly creeping into the city; we know it because it infects many of our slaves. This perversion, this denial of the gods, this religious intolerance has been growing also in the underclasses, bribed by the lie of a better life in an imaginary next world when we all know what really awaits us when we cross the Styx.’ Rufus gestured to the crowds outside. ‘There is the proof of it in our Forum; not all of them are followers of this crucified Jew whom they call Christus; however, those who are have managed to stir up sympathy for Pedanius’ slaves, especially amongst other slaves and also the freedmen who were once slaves themselves. Why? I hear you ask; because many of the condemned slaves are followers of this cult. Since becoming prefect of the Praetorian Guard, I have had more than a few of them questioned under torture. Atheists! And they are encouraged by a Roman citizen, Gaius Julius Paulus; a man of no honour, a man of …’

‘I’d forgotten about that little shit,’ Vespasian said as Rufus went on to list Paulus’ many failings.

‘I haven’t,’ Sabinus said. ‘He’s here.’

‘Here?’

‘Yes, dear boy,’ Gaius assured him. ‘He arrived soon after you both left. He’d been imprisoned for agitating in Judaea but, as he’s a Roman citizen, he has invoked his right to appeal to Caesar.’

‘And from his house arrest,’ Rufus continued, his outrage growing, ‘this agitator writes to his followers, stirring them up even more, breeding religious intolerance and extremism; he claims that the followers of Christus amongst the condemned slaves are being martyred by the heavy hand of Roman law, whilst he hides behind the protection of that very law in order to work against our state. And there is nothing that we can do because, as a citizen, he does have the right to appeal to the Emperor.’

‘The trouble is,’ Gaius muttered, ‘that Nero can’t be bothered to see him.’

‘So therefore, Conscript Fathers,’ Rufus continued as out in the Forum the crowd began to part for a litter to make its way through, escorted by lictors, ‘let us not create martyrs, even false ones, for this abomination; let us show leniency. We should take away the argument that Paulus is using against us and spare all but the murderer; the rest can live out their lives in the mines. If we don’t do this then this poison will continue to spread throughout the poor of the city and I need not remind you, Conscript Fathers, that there are many more of them than there are of us.’

‘No!’ Corvinus shouted, jumping to his feet as Rufus sat down. ‘Pedanius was one of our own! How will the common people ever trust us to implement the law fairly for them if we can’t even do it for a member of our own order? The law is the law and it should not be changed because of the agitation of a religious extremist.’

‘I have to say that I agree with him,’ Gaius said, as Gallus called for order and invited Gaius Cassius to take the floor.

‘But you don’t know Paulus, Uncle,’ Vespasian said as the elderly Cassius struggled to his feet, ‘his ambition to control people is great.’

‘Conscript Fathers,’ Cassius declaimed in a strong voice that belied his grey hair and wrinkled skin, ‘I have on many occasions been present in this House when demands were made for new decrees of the Senate that contravened the laws of our forefathers; and I did not oppose them …’

‘That must be Nero,’ Vespasian whispered to Gaius and Sabinus; outside the crowd grew more agitated as the litter neared the Senate House steps. ‘I thought he didn’t want to be associated with the decision.’ Vespasian watched as the crowd grew more vocal forcing Cassius to raise his voice as he concluded.

‘We now have in our households tribes of foreigners who have different rites, alien religions or, as we have heard, no belief in the gods at all. You will not hold scum like that in place except by intimidation. Yes, and when you consider that every tenth man in a disgraced legion is beaten to death by his comrades, you will realise that brave men also draw the lot. Every great deterrent involves a measure of injustice but wrongs done to individuals are counterbalanced by the common good.’

Cassius sat down to silence as the senators, none wanting to make a decision until they had heard what the Emperor had to say, watched Nero’s litter be set down at the door. With slow menace, Nero pulled back the curtain, stepped out and, brushing aside his lictors, entered the building; with him came the fear.

Nero stood in the middle of the floor, turning slowly, his eyes almost crazed, his hands outstretched appealing to each man within, as his gaze passed over them. ‘My person has been abused.’ The voice was thick; then: ‘Abused!’ Senators jumped as the word cracked around the high marble-clad walls. ‘
My
person!’ He looked down at his body – now grown far more corpulent than when Vespasian had last seen him – and stared at it in disbelief. ‘My person abused! And more than my person: my dignity! I heard common people call me names. Me! I who do nothing but serve them, called the most foul names; names and lies! I was on my way here, Conscript Fathers, to throw myself at your feet and weep. Yes, I would have wept and begged for you to show mercy for those slaves as my gift to the common people; a gift in return for the gift of understanding that they will give me tomorrow when I take my new wife. But they have abused my person and called me names! I shall not weep, Conscript Fathers, and neither shall I beg and nor shall I expect their understanding or care for what they think. No, not any more will I care for the feelings of the common man; from now on I will live as I wish, as is
my
right as a human being!’ He stopped, panting, and scanned the rows of mesmerised senators.

Vespasian felt his gaze pass over him and then quickly return, only to carry on to Sabinus.

‘Titus Flavius Sabinus,’ Nero croaked. ‘You will resume your former role as Urban prefect. Your first task is to clear the streets and crucify the slaves. All of them! Send to Tigellinus for a cohort of the Guard to protect my person as I go back to the Palatine and then find a hundred of the people who insulted me; they shall appear at the games to celebrate my marriage. Understand?’

‘Yes, Princeps,’ Sabinus said, getting to his feet. ‘Thank you—’

‘Go!’

Sabinus did not need to be told twice.

On the other side of the House, Vespasian noticed Corvinus looking at the Emperor and then the retreating Sabinus in horror.

‘And you, Rufus,’ Nero rasped, turning to the new prefect of the Praetorian Guard as Sabinus’ footsteps, the only other sound, echoed around the chamber. ‘You are to send immediately to Anicetus: he is to provide me with a wedding present for my new wife; he knows what would please her best. Now go!’

For an instant, Rufus paused but, knowing better than to defy Nero when the fear was so heavily upon him, saluted and walked out, the regular twitch in his jaw muscles the only evidence of his inner thoughts.

Nero then turned his attention to the rest of the senators, his look steeled. ‘You will stay with me here until the Guard arrives and think of ways to make me the happiest of men on my wedding day because after such abuse only the finest gifts will help me to recover. And it would not do for me not to recover.’

Vespasian knew exactly what he must do, such was the fear.

Emitting raw-throated wails, a girl-child, not long from the womb, writhed on the nails transfixing her wrists and ankles to her cross, as her mother, hanging next to her, stared in disbelief, screaming silently, at her offspring, tiny on the wooden structure, enduring such torment so soon after entering the unforgiving world. Screams and hammer blows rent the air as Urban Cohort soldiers held down and fixed to crosses the condemned slaves of Pedanius’ household. Others, already mounted on the crosses that lined the Via Appia, as Vespasian, Gaius, Caenis and Magnus passed by beneath them, hyperventilated, shrieked, muttered prayers or pleaded to be let down; those still to be dealt with shuffled in their chains, staring up in terror at their fellows, tears flooding down their cheeks, arms around womenfolk and children, shaking with fear, as they made their last journey in a world in which they had never held a stake.

Amongst the condemned and the soldiery were many who were there to comfort, although what comfort there could be against the piercing of the nails was unclear to Vespasian as he rode in the carriage driven by Magnus.

‘What are they doing?’ Gaius, sitting opposite him, asked, pointing.

Vespasian looked over to a group of people kneeling. ‘I think these followers of Christus pray on their knees.’

‘How very uncomfortable.’

Magnus spat in the group’s direction. ‘No self-respect, that’s their trouble; kneeling as if you’ve been defeated.’

‘I suppose in a way they have,’ Caenis suggested, ‘by life, seeing as they are the lowest of the low. I had to have one of my girls whipped the other day when my steward reported that she had drawn a fish above her bed.’

Gaius frowned. ‘A fish?’

‘It’s their sign. I won’t have it in my house; I’ll sell the girl once her wounds have healed and she’s worth something again.’

Vespasian put his hand on Caenis’ knee. ‘There’s a difference between punishing slaves for a crime they’ve committed and one they haven’t.’

‘You don’t approve of this, my love?’

Gaius winced at a teenage boy’s shrill wails as he watched a nail being beaten through his body. ‘The law had to be upheld.’

Vespasian turned his eyes away from the agony. ‘But tell me, Uncle, if these were your beautiful boys, what then?’

‘They’re not, though.’

‘Just imagine if one of your new purchases took exception to what you were doing to him as you were breaking him in, shall we say?’

‘It wouldn’t happen; I’m very gentle first time. Besides, at my age one can’t be too vigorous.’

‘But say it did and all your boys were nailed up, what would you think?’

‘I’d be dead.’

‘Yes, Uncle; but in principle: if all your beautiful boys were nailed up because of the actions of one of them, what would you think?’

Gaius looked down at the teenager who now stared at the sky in catatonic terror. ‘A waste of perfectly good bum.’

Vespasian sighed. ‘That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.’

Magnus slowed the horses as the carriage approached Sabinus, overseeing proceedings with a couple of Urban Cohort tribunes.

Seeing their arrival, Sabinus broke off his conversation and walked over to them, breaking into a broad grin. ‘I’m told that Seneca’s face when he was told that I had been reappointed Urban prefect by the Emperor was a study in horror; apparently he’d just taken receipt of Corvinus’ marker for eight million to get him the post which he’s now going to have to return.’

Vespasian could but enjoy his brother’s good fortune. ‘Well, Corvinus’ face watching you leave the Senate was a match for Seneca’s, I can assure you.’

Gaius chuckled, his jowls and chins wobbling furiously. ‘I saw that look too; so that explains it. How gratifying.’

‘It was the final blow to Seneca,’ Caenis informed them. ‘I was there when he was told this morning; and no, his face wasn’t so much a study in horror but, rather, resignation. He now completely accepts that he has lost any small influence he still had over Nero. As influence equals money he doesn’t see any point in continuing as Nero’s chief advisor.’

Vespasian was far from astonished; the appointment of Rufus now really made sense. ‘I think he might already be arranging his way back. How is he planning on persuading Nero to let him retire in the first place?’

‘He’s hoping to buy his way to it using his money that Decianus stole off Boudicca; the Cloelius Brothers have agreed to give it back to Seneca – for a substantial fee, of course – now that Decianus has not been heard of for a year.’

‘I wish him luck; I’ll be very pleased to see the back of him after all the damage he’s done with his banking.’ Vespasian turned to Sabinus. ‘So, brother, is there any last message you would like me to give to Pallas?’

Sabinus thought for a moment. ‘Tell him I’ll always be grateful for my life.’ With a cheerful wave he turned and went back to supervising the execution of the rest of Pedanius’ household.

‘His life?’ Pallas said, looking closely at the bark on the trunk of a walnut tree in his garden and stroking it. ‘He has a lot more to be grateful to me for than that; but who am I to criticise or quibble when I shall be dead before sundown?’ He turned to face Vespasian, Gaius, Caenis and Magnus who stood in attendance to their host on the central path through the gardens; his hair and beard were now almost white but his eyes remained bright and his expression as neutral as it had ever been, despite his impending suicide.