False God of Rome

CHAPTER XII

Vespasian was silent as they tracked Kosmas down the Esquiline towards the Forum, keeping the secretary in view as he gradually gained on his master’s litter. He contemplated the dignity with which Poppaeus had met his death and the motives that had caused him to become Antonia’s enemy. He could not help but feel that Poppaeus had been right: the Julio-Claudian family was utterly unsuitable to rule. Denuded of its brightest talents through years of intrigue and poisonings, its male line was now reduced to a rump consisting of: Tiberius, a sexually depraved, mad old man; Claudius, a stuttering, power-hungry mediocrity; Vespasian’s friend Caligula, an incestuous hedonist; and Gemellus, a young lad of no consequence whose only interesting feature was the speculation surrounding him as to which of his relatives would eventually murder him. And then there was Antonia, that brilliant political strategist; her ruthlessness in dealing with any threat to her family’s position he had at one time, through the idealism of youth, mistaken for a high-principled defence of legitimate Roman government. But now, older and more jaded, he was beginning to see her for what she really was: a vicious gang-leader who would stop at nothing to maintain her power. He had made a choice as a callow youth and now he was stuck in Antonia’s world as a very minor member of her gang. His grandmother had been so right all those years ago when she had warned him ‘that the side that seems to serve Rome may not always be the most honourable’. But surely that must soon change; surely, with the murder of so many of the family, the bloodline of the Julio-Claudians must soon expire? Perhaps this, then, would be the new age that the Phoenix heralded: an age where Rome was ruled with honour through merit and not through tainted blood. But then, he reflected, if he was destined to play a part in this new age of honour, how could he now, guilty as he was of despicable and dishonourable murder?

‘Where’s the litter?’ Magnus asked, breathing heavily as he and Ziri caught up with them on the Via Sacra.

‘About a hundred paces ahead,’ Pallas replied, pointing through the crowd to where the roof of the litter could just be seen bobbing over the sea of heads. ‘Kosmas is just in front of us but he’s catching up with it; you and Ziri had better try and delay him until it gets to the Forum.’

‘But he’s seen me.’

‘Barely, and he hasn’t seen Ziri.’

‘Fair enough.’

A huge roar from behind them caused Vespasian to turn his head towards the Circus Maximus.

‘Missing the fucking racing,’ Magnus moaned. ‘Come on, Ziri, you’re going to do some jostling.’

Ziri looked uncomprehendingly at his master.

‘You’ll get the hang of it, it’s easy, you just have to use your elbows,’ Magnus told him as he ploughed forward into the crowd.

They neared the Forum and the crowd got denser as the people of Rome who had not been lucky enough to get seats in the circus flocked to watch acrobats, jugglers and other entertainers performing in honour of Apollo.

Gradually they caught up with the litter until it was only ten paces ahead of them as it neared the Rostra. To his right Vespasian could see the tall figure of Kosmas battling to get past Magnus and Ziri. Suddenly the crowd shifted backwards and Vespasian could see, just ahead of him, the axe-heads on the tops of the fasces of twelve lictors making directly for the litter.

‘Asiaticus is there,’ he said as the lictors surrounded the litter.

‘Good, we’ll watch from here,’ Pallas replied. Most of the crowd moved on past the official cordon, uninterested in the doings of the Senior Consul on a festival day.

‘Proconsul Poppaeus,’ Asiaticus shouted above the hubbub, ‘how fortunate to have met you.’ He stepped up to the litter and waited for a reply. ‘Poppaeus?’ he repeated after a few moments. Again receiving no reply he untied the curtains and looked in. ‘Poppaeus?’

‘Let me through, that’s my master’s litter,’ Kosmas shouted, pushing through the lictors.

Asiaticus put his hand in and then withdrew it quickly. ‘Jupiter! The proconsul is dead!’ He pulled the flaps right back to expose Poppaeus’ reclining form as they had left it; his head lolled down to one side, resting on the fake Capella’s chest. There was a shocked intake of breath from the few people who stood watching the scene; more now joined them. The litter-bearers looked aghast at their dead master.

Kosmas rushed forward. ‘Master? Master?’

‘Your master appears to be dead,’ Asiaticus informed him.

‘Impossible, he was alive when I left him not half an hour ago.’

‘Well, he’s dead now; look.’

Kosmas lifted Poppaeus’ chin and then let go in shock. ‘But I swear that he was alive when we left Claudius’ house, I saw him get into the litter; he sent me back for his stick.’ He waved the stick at Asiaticus as if to prove the veracity of his story. ‘He must have died on the way here.’

Vespasian and Corbulo glanced at Pallas, who allowed himself a brief smile of satisfaction.

‘Who are you?’ Asiaticus demanded.

‘My name is Kosmas, I’m Poppaeus’ secretary.’

‘What’s this?’ Asiaticus asked, pointing at the chest.

‘It contains some paperwork of my master’s.’

‘Let me see.’

Kosmas took the keys from around his neck and opened the chest.

Asiaticus took out a couple of the scrolls and gave them a cursory glance and sniffed them. ‘There’s nothing in there that could have killed him.’

Kosmas looked inside and nodded his agreement.

‘You had better run back to his house and get his household to come and bear his body home in honour. It would be unseemly for such a great man to be carted home in a litter.’

Kosmas looked at the Consul then back to Poppaeus and then back at the Consul, unsure of what to do.

‘Go on, man,’ Asiaticus shouted, ‘stop dithering, I’ll stay here with the body.’

‘Yes, Consul, thank you.’

‘You’d better take this chest with you.’

‘Yes, Consul.’ Kosmas quickly closed the lid and locked it.

‘Run!’

Vespasian grinned as the hapless secretary picked up the chest, balanced the stick on it and scampered off. ‘He’ll never believe his own eyes again.’

‘Sadly for him he won’t have much time to test them out,’ Pallas said, nodding to someone at the far side of the crowd.

Vespasian followed his look and saw the younger version of Pallas nod back at his elder brother, patting the knife on his belt. Felix detached himself from the crowd and followed Kosmas out of the Forum.

‘I think the Consul played his part admirably,’ Pallas commented as they left the Forum, which was now buzzing with the news of Poppaeus’ death. ‘And there were enough people who heard Kosmas swear that Poppaeus was alive when he left Claudius’ house. My mistress will be delighted.’

‘I feel sorry for Kosmas, though,’ Vespasian said, ‘it’s a shame that he had to die.’

Corbulo looked confused. ‘Kosmas is dead? When?’

‘About now, I should imagine,’ Pallas informed him. ‘My brother will ensure that the body disappears and then it will be assumed that a dishonest secretary took advantage of the situation and made off with the deeds to his master’s property. Even if Macro suspected something was wrong, he wouldn’t be able to prove otherwise without admitting that he knew about the Egyptian estates; which he could never afford to do.’

‘So Claudius is now richer by fourteen and a half million denarii,’ Vespasian said sourly.

‘I’d rather it was him than Macro.’

‘Would you, though, Pallas? Poppaeus made a good point about what would happen to the succession if Macro became emperor.’

‘Yes,’ Corbulo agreed, ‘it reminded me of what you were saying on Capreae. The more I think about it the more it really makes sense. Rome cannot carry on with madmen in charge just because they are in some way descended from Julius Caesar.’

‘It’s idealism, I’m afraid,’ Pallas told them. ‘The aristocracy may hate the Julio-Claudian family with good reason, seeing as a lot of them have been killed as they came to power and more will die as they cling on to it; but the army and the people won’t stop supporting them. They like stability and stability for them is one family ruling so that they know who’s going to be doling out the largesse, the grain and putting on the shows in the arena. Not until there’s been a succession of bad emperors and their living conditions are affected will they start to think about a better system.’

‘That’s a depressing view.’

‘Not if you happen to be in the service of the ruling family.’

And that was just the problem, Vespasian thought, as they began to ascend the Palatine to the bellowing of the crowd in the Circus Maximus: there were so many people with a degree of power like Pallas, Asiaticus, Narcissus, the Praetorian Guard, his uncle, most of the Senate, whose fortunes where inextricably linked through patronage to the Julio-Claudians. The very thought of change frightened them because ultimately everyone was out for themselves and their families. All talk of high ideals about the governance of Rome came to naught if you feared that you had nothing to gain and everything to lose by a change of regime. It was human nature and there was nothing that he could do about it.

With that realisation Vespasian trudged up the hill to Antonia’s house, contemplating the inevitable: an unprincipled life in which he would do as well as he could for himself by serving the people with real power. It was not what he had dreamed of when he first entered Rome. However, he reflected ruefully, he should be good at it; he had already stooped to murder.

Antonia had left a message asking them to wait until she had finished dealing with some business. Pallas showed Vespasian and Corbulo into the garden where, to Vespasian’s surprise, Gaius and Sabinus were sitting at a table sipping wine; neither of them looked happy and both were sweating in the noonday sun. Four extra cups were placed on the table.

‘I’ll leave you gentlemen here while I attend my mistress,’ Pallas said. ‘I do believe that she is dealing with the one outstanding issue. Call if you need more wine.’ He walked off towards the black lacquered door to Antonia’s private room at the far end of the courtyard garden.

‘Herod Agrippa?’ Vespasian asked as he and Corbulo sat down.

‘Yes,’ Sabinus replied less than enthusiastically. ‘He arrived just before you did.’

‘Did Antonia agree to help you?’ Vespasian asked, pouring wine into two of the cups and passing one to Corbulo.

‘Yes, but she wasn’t pleased. It meant that she’d have to find some other way to deal with Herod; she can’t now threaten him with confiscation of his stockpile without him countering her by exposing me. He knows that I’m here, she deliberately let him see me as he came in.’

‘What have you done?’ Corbulo asked, taking a sip of wine.

‘Nothing that concerns you, Corbulo,’ Sabinus replied as two portly and bald, middle-aged equites were led into the garden by a slave. The colour drained out of Sabinus’ face; he stood up. ‘Primus and Tertius,’ he spluttered, walking towards the new arrivals proffering his arm. ‘What brings you here?’

‘An inconvenient but impossible-to-refuse summons from the Lady Antonia, Senator Sabinus,’ the slightly elder of the two replied, taking his forearm. ‘And, judging by the documents she asked us to bring, you shouldn’t be so surprised to see us.’ He placed a leather bag on the table and gave a curt business-like nod to Gaius and Corbulo. ‘Good day to you both, Senators Pollo and Corbulo.’

‘Primus; Tertius,’ they both replied, getting up as Sabinus greeted the younger man.

‘Gentlemen, this is my brother, Vespasian,’ Sabinus said as they all sat down again. ‘Primus and Tertius Cloelius of the banking firm in the Forum.’

The conversation was sporadic and stilted as they waited in the strengthening sun for the black lacquered door to open. All attempts at small-talk were rebuffed by the bankers who spent the time perusing accounts on scrolls and checking them with the help of an abacus retrieved from Primus’ bag. They had refused the offer of wine. Vespasian caught them a couple of times giving him surreptitious looks and wondered if Narcissus had mentioned his name to them when cancelling the bankers’ draft. The rapid clicking of wooden balls on the abacus began to irritate him.

The door eventually opened. Antonia walked towards them with Herod, looking very pleased, by her side, followed by Pallas. ‘Gentlemen, thank you for waiting. If you don’t mind we will conclude our business here,’ she said sitting and indicating that Herod should do likewise. ‘I’m in need of some fresh air. Primus and Tertius, it’s good of you to come. I hope that Secundus is well.’

‘He’s away on business, domina,’ Primus replied.

‘Good, he is well then. Did you bring everything that I asked for?’

Primus rummaged in his bag, brought out three scrolls and placed them on the table.

Antonia picked up a scroll and looked at it briefly. ‘Herod, this is a bankers’ draft for half a million denarii.’

Herod looked at it with relish.

‘And this,’ Antonia continued, picking up the second scroll and waving it at Herod to look at, ‘is the Cloelius brothers’ copy of the bill of sale for the grain that you bought off Sabinus as well as their copy of the certificate of ownership signed by you and Sabinus. The brothers are obviously anxious to hand them over to me knowing that it was highly illegal of them to take a percentage in a deal involving grain speculation.’

‘A lack of judgement on our part,’ Primus affirmed.

‘Which I’m very happy to correct for you.’ Putting the scroll back down on the table, Antonia turned to Sabinus. ‘Your copies please, Sabinus.’

Sabinus obliged and handed her the documents.

Antonia smiled pleasantly at Herod. ‘So, Herod, your copies are the last ones left that link this grain with Sabinus.’ She gave the bankers’ draft back to the Cloelius brothers, who each signed it; that done she offered it to Herod. ‘The grain is worth a lot less than this draft. I suggest that it would be in your interests to swap.’

Corbulo’s mouth dropped open in outrage; with a sharp motion of her left hand Antonia silenced him before he could express his opinion.

Herod took the bankers’ draft. ‘I will send over my freedman, Eutyches, with my copy of the bill of sale and the certificate of ownership as soon as I get home. The grain is now yours.’

‘As is your loyalty, Herod, if you still wish to see Judaea reinstated as a client kingdom with you as king. That is within my gift, not Macro’s.’

‘I can see that now. On my way here I passed through the Forum; it seems that Poppaeus is dead on the day that he was due to do a certain deal with your son.’ He looked around the table. ‘I don’t know how you did it but I assume that deal has not gone through and Macro is not in a position to offer me what I want.’

‘I did nothing, Herod; any unfounded suspicions that you may have that I had a hand in this you will keep to yourself.’ Antonia picked up the third scroll. ‘Macro is not in a position to cancel your debt to me, which, if I were to call it in, would send you fleeing back to the desert again; and believe me, this time you won’t return.’

‘As always, dear Lady, it’s a pleasure negotiating with you.’

‘It’s a pleasure taking my money, you mean.’

Herod inclined his head and smiled. ‘That I can’t deny.’

‘Now get out of my house.’

‘With pleasure.’ Herod got to his feet and bowed graciously. ‘Good day to you, gentlemen.’

Antonia brandished the debt marker at him as he turned to leave. ‘Never forget, Herod, I will always have this.’

‘Dear Lady, my lips are sealed,’ Herod said over his shoulder as he walked from the garden waving his bankers’ draft in the air.

Antonia turned to the two bankers. ‘Primus and Tertius, I know that I can rely on your discretion in this matter.’

‘We deal in figures not tittle-tattle, domina,’ Primus replied, rising while his brother collected up their scrolls and abacus.

‘Very wise; a far more trustworthy commodity, especially when the tittle-tattle could involve your names. Now, as to that other matter?’

Primus took another scroll, the fourth, from the fold of his toga and handed it to Antonia. ‘This is the final thing that you asked for, domina; our copy of the deceased gentleman’s certificate of ownership from the other deal that interested you. You must understand that this is very irregular.’

‘So is taking a ten per cent cut of an illegal grain deal, Primus, which, thanks to my discretion, shall now remain just between us.’

‘Our humble thanks, domina. In the circumstances we will not be sending a note of our fees.’

Antonia unrolled the scroll and glanced at its contents with a satisfied smile. ‘That would be appreciated, Primus, I know how adventurous you can be with arithmetic when it comes to calculating fees.’

‘We have no sense of adventure, domina, we are bankers.’

With curt nods of their heads the Cloelius brothers departed.

‘That was very expensive, thanks to you, Sabinus,’ Antonia said as their footsteps disappeared, ‘but by no means a disaster.’

Sabinus flushed and bowed his head in shame.

‘Dealing in grain while being the grain aedile!’ Corbulo finally exploded, his face puce with aristocratic ire. ‘I should report this.’

‘Of course you should but you won’t, will you, my dear Corbulo?’ Antonia said soothingly. ‘That won’t get us anywhere.’

‘But he’s trying get elected as a praetor; what he did goes against all the ancient principles that govern the behaviour of senators.’

‘And what you did this morning doesn’t?’ Antonia snapped. ‘Stop behaving as if you’re one of the founding fathers of the Republic. Sabinus made a costly mistake but I have rectified it in a way that will protect us and do Herod a lot of damage; I don’t trust him not to talk to Macro so I’m going to ensure that he can’t. Pallas, bring Eutyches to us as soon as he arrives.’

‘And you can swear to that?’ Antonia asked Eutyches who stood before her. She laid the two scrolls that he had brought from his master on the table next to a pile of gold coins.

‘Yes, domina,’ Herod’s freedman replied, ‘my master said to your grandson Caligula: “I wish the old man would hurry up and die so that you can become emperor.” I was driving them both in Herod’s carriage; I heard it clearly.’

‘And what did my grandson reply?’

Eutyches looked greedily at the pile of gold coins and then back at Antonia. ‘What do you think he replied, domina?’

‘I see that we understand each other, very good. I’m sure that he said: “Herod, that is treason; may Tiberius live forever. The next time you speak like that I shall report you.”’

‘That is exactly what he said, I’d swear to it.’

‘My little grandson was always too forgiving.’

‘A noble fault, domina,’ Gaius agreed sadly.

‘Let’s hope that it doesn’t get him into trouble some day,’ Vespasian added, looking at his uncle and nodding in agreement.

‘Thank you, Eutyches, you may have the money once this matter has been dealt with. You will remain here until then; Pallas, show him to where we keep our guests.’

Vespasian watched the unsuspecting freedman being led towards Antonia’s private underground prison and wondered how long he would be kept incarcerated.

Antonia collected the money and slipped it back into a purse. ‘I feel that it’s my duty to correct my grandson’s fault and report this. Macro’s gone to join the Emperor at Antium for young Gaius’ wedding so we should act now while he’s away. Senator Pollo, I will have this written up and would be obliged if you would read it out at the next meeting of the Senate.’

‘Of course, domina.’

A sudden burst of hysterical screaming from the atrium interrupted them.

‘Get out of my way, I will see her; I know she’s in there.’

A short, broad-hipped woman, in her late twenties, with ripped clothing and dishevelled hair came running into the garden brushing off Felix’s attempts to restrain her. ‘Antonia!’ she screeched. ‘I know what you’ve done!’

‘My dear Poppaea Sabina,’ Antonia said rising, ‘calm yourself.’

‘Calm myself? How can I be calm when I’m looking at my father’s murderer?’

‘I have only just heard about your father’s death, these senators were just telling me about the tragedy.’

‘Tragedy?’ Poppaea screamed, looking intently at each of the men around the table. ‘You killed him, and these men probably helped you. I know Senator Pollo and his nephews have always supported you against my father, he told me. You killed him, Antonia, because he was trying to remove your hated family from the throne. You killed him to protect yourself. I don’t know how but if he died of natural causes then why was his lip swollen and cut? It wasn’t this morning when I saw him. My family’s reputation is impeccable and people will listen when I demand justice.’ She spat on the ground, turned and, pushing past Felix, walked with dignity out of the garden.

‘I’m sorry, domina, she…’

‘That’s all right, Felix, she was determined to see me. Did the other business go well?’

‘Yes, domina, the body and the chest are in the Tiber; the head has been destroyed.’

‘Good. Follow her out and see that she does no damage and send a message to Asiaticus to come here as soon as possible.’ Antonia turned back to her guests around the table. ‘It would seem that we now have two reputations to besmirch if we are to prevent Poppaea from gaining any sympathy in the Senate for her view. Gaius, save the report on Herod until after Asiaticus, Corbulo and Vespasian have done what I’m going to ask of them.’ Antonia picked up the fourth scroll that Primus had given her and handed it to Sabinus. ‘And then when your uncle has done that, Sabinus, please read out this, I think that it’s safe for you to do so now that Herod is no longer in a position to blackmail you.’ She patted Herod’s copy of the bill of sale and the certificate of ownership of the grain that Eutyches had brought. ‘I was going to save it for future use but I think in view of Poppaea’s visit now would be a good time to make it public. I believe it might also help your cause in the praetor elections.’

Sabinus read it quickly and grinned. ‘I’d be delighted to.’

‘And so therefore, Conscript Fathers,’ the Senior Consul, Asiaticus, concluded to a packed Senate House, ‘I propose a vote of thanks from a grateful Senate to its servant, Gaius Poppaeus Sabinus, for the many years of selfless service he gave to us and our Emperor. I also propose that we vote him a bronze statue, paid for out of public funds, to be erected in the Forum.’

Asiaticus sat down to a chorus of approval from both sides of the House. Vespasian joined in thinking that Antonia would be pleased with the way the Consul had set up the debate exactly as she had asked.

‘Senior Consul,’ Corbulo bellowed over the din, rising to his feet, ‘may I have the floor?’

‘The Senate will hear Senator Corbulo,’ Asiaticus cried, gesturing for silence.

Vespasian smiled to himself as Corbulo took the floor attempting to conceal a look of distaste for the first part of what he was about to say upon Antonia’s orders.

‘Conscript Fathers, I served with Poppaeus for three years in Moesia and Thracia, I would be honoured to second the Consul’s proposal. I was, as were you all, shocked when Poppaeus was found dead in the Forum, but I consider it fitting that a man such as he should die at the very heart of our Empire. However, as we all know, Poppaeus allowed his troops to hail him as “imperator” so I think that a statue in the Forum, so close to those of our illustrious Emperor and his predecessor, would be an unpleasant reminder of that solitary error of judgement — some may call it an act of treason — made by this man whom we praise today.’

Corbulo sat down to mutterings of agreement.

Asiaticus took the floor again. ‘Senator Corbulo has done well to remind the House of that unfortunate incident. We would not want the Emperor to think that his loyal Senate in any way condones Poppaeus’ error, made, I am sure, in the heat of the joy of victory over Rome’s enemies. The fact that the Emperor in his clemency has chosen to overlook this for so long should signal to us that, while a statue would be inappropriate, a vote of thanks would be acceptable for such a man who only made one mistake in his life.’

Vespasian got nervously to his feet for the first time in the Senate. ‘Senior Consul, may I have the floor?’

‘The House will hear the first speech of Senator Titus Flavius Vespasianus,’ Asiaticus declared.

Vespasian felt the eyes of over five hundred senators upon him as he walked out to the middle of the floor. Putting his unease at speaking in public for the first time to the back of his mind, he cleared his throat. ‘Conscript Fathers, many of you will be wondering what I, one of the most junior members of this ancient House, could add to this debate. I too was in Thracia with Poppaeus and out of loyalty to the Senate of Rome and our Emperor I cannot remain silent about what I saw. Senator Corbulo was right to bring to our attention the cries of “imperator” but he has not told the full story. He was not present at the victory celebration after the final battle, having been sent up the mountain with two cohorts to secure the defeated Thracians’ stronghold and to mop up any survivors. He therefore did not see the way that Poppaeus basked in the cries of “imperator”, encouraging them rather than trying to subdue them as any one of us would have done out of loyalty to the Emperor.’

Vespasian paused as the senators vied with each other to be the most vociferous in their loyalty to the Emperor. ‘Shameful though it was to commit this offence against our Emperor, it was not the worst crime that Poppaeus committed that day.’

There was silence as the senators ceased their protestations of loyalty to hear what could be worse than a crime against the Emperor. ‘I was present when your emissary, the proconsul Marcus Asinius Agrippa, brought Poppaeus the news of the honour that this House had voted him, and our Emperor had been pleased to confirm, Triumphal Ornaments. I witnessed Asinius order Poppaeus, in the name of the Senate and the Emperor, to immediately give up his command to Pomponius Labeo and return to Rome. Showing no gratitude for this extraordinary honour, Poppaeus refused, thereby committing a crime not only against the Emperor but also against this House. It was not until Asinius repeated the order in front of the whole army after the battle that Poppaeus felt obliged to lay down his command.’

Shouts of outrage forced Vespasian to pause again. Asiaticus sprang to his feet and bellowed for order.

‘Senator Vespasian,’ he shouted over the din, ‘can you swear to this?’

‘I can, but I can do better than that, Consul, I can get you proof. Senator Corbulo, where did you find Poppaeus on the night of the Thracian attack?’

Corbulo stood. ‘In Asinius’ tent.’

‘Who else was there?’

‘Asinius, you, King Rhoemetalces and Primus Pilus Faustus.’

‘Unfortunately, Consul, Asinius is dead as is Faustus but King Rhoemetalces is not. Write to him and ask him for the details of the conversation that had taken place between Asinius and Poppaeus before Corbulo arrived; he will confirm everything I’ve said.’

Vespasian returned to his folding stool as the first of the many senators eager to express their disgust at such a disregard for senatorial authority jumped to his feet.

After a succession of speeches each railing at Poppaeus’ behaviour and each one more damning and hypocritical than the last, Asiaticus brought the matter to a close.

‘Conscript Fathers, I withdraw the motion that I proposed and recommend instead that we should mark Poppaeus’ death with an acknowledgement that in his service to Rome he was merely up to the task and no more. We should write to the Emperor and ask him, in view of Poppaeus’ behaviour, if he would wish us to strip him posthumously of his Triumphal Ornaments.’ This was greeted with a unanimous shout of approval. ‘I see no reason to divide the House on this issue.’

‘Consul,’ Gaius shouted, ‘if we are to write to the Emperor, I have another matter to be brought to his attention.’

‘Wishing the Emperor dead is a very serious accusation indeed,’ Asiaticus told the Senate after Eutyches’ statement had been read. ‘We should have this freedman sent to the Emperor so that he can question him personally. Do you know where he is, Senator Pollo?’

‘I do, Consul; the Lady Antonia has had him confined since he tried to blackmail her because her grandson merely reprimanded Herod for his views rather than reporting the treason.’

‘Good, I shall ask her to keep him there until the Urban Prefect can arrange for his transfer. We should now discuss how to deal with Herod Agrippa.’

Sabinus got to his feet and waved the scroll that Antonia had given him. ‘Consul, I have some information that relates to both the issues that have been discussed this morning.’

‘You may have the floor.’

‘I am pleased to report that the Lady Antonia has, out of her own purse, purchased a consignment of grain, which she has donated to the public granaries to help relieve the shortage.’ Sabinus paused as the senators expressed their approval and gratitude for this selfless act of altruism. ‘As I was processing the paperwork this came to my notice in amongst the newly arrived grain deliveries.’ He unrolled the scroll with a melodramatic flurry. ‘It is a certificate of ownership for a delivery of grain from Egypt, worth over a quarter of a million denarii; it was part of the consignment of the Egyptian grain fleet that went down in the storm. However, this grain was carried by one of the two transports that did make it to Rome, but I, as the grain aedile for this year, am unable to distribute it because it does not belong to Rome; it remains in a private warehouse in Ostia, all the time gaining in value as grain prices soar. This certificate shows that, once it had been offloaded in Ostia, the ownership of the grain transferred to Gaius Poppaeus Sabinus in payment of a loan he had made to Herod Agrippa.’

Uproar followed this revelation.

Asiaticus bellowed over the crowd in righteous indignation. ‘Are you saying that Herod Agrippa has been using our city’s current difficulties for his own profit so he can pay off debts?’

‘It appears that way, Consul.’

‘Show me that.’

Sabinus walked the length of the House and handed the scroll to Asiaticus.

After a cursory glance the Senior Consul rolled it up and placed it into the fold of his toga. ‘Thank you, Senator Sabinus.’ He looked up at the sea of expectant faces to find the Urban Prefect. ‘Have Herod Agrippa brought before the Senate in chains.’