Masters of Rome

CHAPTER XIIII

Claudius arrived first, a quarter of an hour later, causing the occupants of the room to spring to their feet and look at one another with barely concealed concern. Wearing a purple toga and a laurel wreath over his sparse grey hair, the Emperor shambled in on weak legs, which only just supported the extra weight that he had put on since Vespasian had last seen him at Camulodunum; he had to be helped up the steps to the dais by an accompanying slave. His expression, made sorrowful by a downturned mouth and eyes with drooping care-lines set in a long, slack-skinned face etched with the ravages of heavy drinking, changed to one of confusion as he noticed Messalina’s vacant seat. ‘W-where’s my w-w-wife? She should have b-b-been here b-b-before me.’

‘Indeed she should, Princeps,’ Narcissus agreed with a silken voice.

‘She arrived some time ago,’ Callistus lied, bobbing his bald head and wringing his sinewy hands, ‘but then she remembered that she had left an important item behind.’

No one raised an eyebrow at this patent untruth but it satisfied Claudius who chuckled as he sat down. ‘She’s a f-f-forgetful little thing sometimes; women can be so sc-sc-sc-scatter-brained. But we must get on as it’s the climax of my Secular Games and I d-don’t want the beast hunt to be delayed this afternoon because I’m late in arriving.’ He pulled a scroll from the fold of his toga and, with shaking hands, unrolled it. ‘The charges against D-Decimus Valerius Asiat-aticus …’ A spray of saliva erupted from his mouth as he enunciated the last word, splattering the parchment, but everyone in the room affected not to notice. Claudius wiped his lips with his toga and then began to read aloud.

Vespasian observed the two men in the room whom he did not know as Claudius stumbled through the list. Lucius Vitellius he knew by sight but he had never had any dealings with him; a martial-looking man, despite his baldness, with a square jaw and hooked nose, but running to fat in his old age, Vitellius had conducted a war against Parthia whilst Governor of Syria in Tiberius’ reign, concluding it on very favourable terms for Rome and had won the favour of successive emperors by his unabashed sycophancy. He had enthusiastically worshipped Caligula as a god and it had been to Vitellius that Claudius had entrusted Rome when he had rushed to Britannia to claim the credit for the fall of Camulodunum. But it was his attitude to his elder son, Aulus Vitellius, for which he was infamous. He had pandered him to Tiberius, who had greatly prized his oral favours and, no doubt, much else.

Publius Suillius Rufus, a nondescript man of medium height and unremarkable features — unless it was to comment on their blandness — Vespasian knew only by reputation. What he lacked in physical charisma he made up for with his vicious oratory; he was as skilled at reasoning with false, honeyed arguments as he was at cajoling with slanderous fabrications to ensure the condemnation of his victims whose only crime had been to cross him or his imperial patroness.

Claudius had finished reading the charges and was drawing to the close of a long, rambling speech about how saddened he was that his great friend Asiaticus should be appearing before him in such dismal circumstances, although he was sure that Vitellius’ eloquence would clear him, when a commotion at the door, two Praetorian Guards snapping to attention, heralded the arrival of Messalina.

‘My dearest!’ Claudius exclaimed, turning in his seat and almost falling from it. ‘You’ve arrived just in time.’

Messalina made her entrance with all the hauteur of one who revels in power: slow, self-assured and with no recognition of anyone else in the room; even Claudius got to his feet. Slight of build but made taller by the pile of intricately woven, jet-black hair that rose from the crown of her head, part-covered by a crimson palla and studded with jewels, she processed into the room attended by four slave girls so richly attired that they could have been mistaken for great ladies in their own right. She mounted the dais and held out a languid hand, weighed down by rings, for her husband to slobber over before turning her dark, kohl-rimmed eyes to Asiaticus; her full lips creased with a faint smile, which could have been interpreted as one of regret had it not been for the hardness in her eyes. She sat, adjusting her palla so that it flowed with studied elegance from her head to her shoulders and then, covering her left arm but baring her right, perfectly down either side of her body to the floor. Her poise was exquisite; beautiful and delicate, with fair skin, fine cheekbones and a slender straight nose, she exuded a sexual aura that was mesmerising and animal. Every man in the room was drawn to her whether they were for her or against. She had grown in presence since Vespasian had seen her last, six years ago, when Claudius had just become emperor; he now understood what Corbulo had meant when he had talked of her allure. Her delicacy made her seem almost fragile and brought out the urge to protect and cherish her, and yet all knew what ruthless power lurked behind that innocent façade. Vespasian drew a breath and wondered if he would have the strength to resist her if she tried to bend him to her will, but in his heart he knew the answer.

All eyes rested on the Empress and nobody in the room made a sound until she was comfortable.

‘D-d-did you find whatever it was you’d forgotten, my dearest?’ Claudius ventured as everybody sat back down.

Messalina frowned at her husband and then caught Callistus’ look and slight nod. ‘A trifling thing that I thought to give to you, my darling; but then I decided to wait until later — when we are alone.’ She brushed the back of her hand along the outside of Claudius’ thigh making his head twitch and his eyes blink rapidly. ‘Shall we read the charges that have been brought against this unfortunate man?’

‘I–I-I’ve already read them, d-d-dearest.’

‘Then read them again; I wish to hear them because I’m sure that they can’t be true.’ She cocked her head and looked at Claudius girlishly with wide eyes and parted lips. ‘After all, that’s why we decided to hear them informally, in private, so this calumny wouldn’t become public and ruin poor Asiaticus’ reputation.’

Claudius tore his eyes away from his wife’s inviting mouth and hastily stemmed a flow of drool with his toga. ‘Of course, anything for you, my darling; you are so considerate of others.’

Messalina composed her face into an ideal of feminine modesty and looked down at her hands folded in her lap as Claudius once more laboured through the list of charges. As he drew to a close with Sosibius’ accusation of Asiaticus being a party to Caligula’s assassination, she wiped a tear from her eye and let out a soft sob. ‘That we could have chosen such a disreputable man to tutor our darling Britannicus. Oh husband, once you’ve thrown these charges out we shall dismiss him and banish him to the most unwelcoming of provincial towns to rot in his own maliciousness.’

‘Then let’s just d-d-dismiss them now.’

With a sad sigh, Messalina shook her head. ‘Would that be wise, my darling? We must hear the arguments for and against, in case there be the slightest truth in one or two of the allegations. I’m sure that even dear Asiaticus would agree that he should be punished if he has any guilt; as a two-times consul he better than anybody else other than you understands that the rule of law must hold firm, and to ensure that, justice must be seen to triumph.’

Despite himself, Vespasian found himself sympathising with the argument although he knew it to be specious.

Claudius looked at Messalina with wonder in his eyes as if he were beholding the wisest, most beautiful and compassionate being ever to have been given life. ‘You are so right, little bird, we must hear the arguments if only for my good friend Asiaticus’ sake.’ He jerked his head away from Messalina and looked at Suillius. ‘You may b-b-begin.’

Asiaticus slammed his fist down onto the arm of his chair and leapt to his feet interrupting Suillius mid-flow. ‘What proof do you have of any of these allegations, Suillius? You have accused me at some length of passive homosexuality with rank and file soldiers and then adultery; it’s not enough just to say these things, however eloquently — you must back them up.’

‘I haven’t finished making my case, I still have-’

‘This is not a court of law! Nor is it a hearing before the Senate, both of which have protocols to follow; this is an informal hearing before our Emperor.’ Asiaticus rubbed his smooth pate to calm himself and then addressed Claudius. ‘Princeps, as there is no precedent to follow, may I be allowed to deal with the accusations one by one, as they arise, so that the weight of each of the falsehoods levelled at me don’t combine to make the case against me seem overwhelming before I even begin my defence?’

Claudius contemplated the request for a few moments, remaining surprisingly still, his expression hinting at the great pleasure he had in deliberating on such a matter. ‘The differences between precedents and protocol in legal hearings, both formal and informal, must be weighed against the ways of our ancestors.’

Claudius launched into a legal argument of such pedantry that it could only have been of interest to the most petty-minded minor official of a ghastly provincial backwater who had nothing better to do all day than exercise his own self-importance. For Vespasian and everyone else suffering it, however, it was eye-wateringly tedious. It was to vacant, pallid faces that Claudius eventually concluded: ‘So to sum up with the briefest of answers: in this case, but only in this one instance, my judgement, Asiaticus, is yes.’

Evidently having lost track of the argument and therefore whether the judgement was for him or against, Asiaticus stood bewildered for a moment before gathering himself. ‘So I may defend each allegation in turn, Princeps?’

‘Th-th-that was my j-j-j-judgement,’ Claudius replied testily, his stammer, absent during his fluent legal ramble, returning full force.

‘I’m grateful, Princeps.’ Asiaticus faced Suillius. ‘Firstly, the most disgusting allegation: that I allowed, no, actively sought to be penetrated by other men — common legionaries — in return for favours. As if, had I wanted such base entertainment, I couldn’t just get one, or even half a dozen, of my slaves to defile me any time I liked — as many men in Rome do, I believe.’ He raised his eyebrows at Suillius. ‘How did you come up with that idea? What were you doing when it occurred to you that you should level false allegations of buggery with lowlife against me?’

Suillius sneered. ‘Inferences like that won’t hide the truth. I have a witness.’

‘Have you? Then he should be able to recognise me seeing as we’ve been so intimate, or is he going to claim that he only saw the back of my head? Princeps, can I suggest that this witness comes into the room and, without any prompting from this creature here, tries to identify the man whom he alleges was accommodating enough to part his buttocks for him?’

Claudius nodded with enthusiasm. ‘That w-would be an ad-admirable way to settle this.’ He turned to the guards on the door. ‘One of you, fetch this man in.’

Asiaticus took his place back next to Vitellius and then pointed at Suillius. ‘Sit down.’

Suillius did so reluctantly as a squat man of powerful build, in his fifties, wearing a plain citizen’s toga was led in, looking as if he already regretted agreeing to appear in front of such august company. He swallowed as he stood before the Emperor and Empress.

‘W-w-what’s your name, citizen?’

‘Sextus Niger, Princeps.’

‘So, Niger, you allege that you buggered Decimus Valerius Asiaticus in return for favours.’

‘He forced me to, Princeps; I would never do-’

‘Never mind your p-p-personal habits, man; is that what you allege?’

Niger closed his eyes. ‘Yes, Princeps.’

‘Then describe him.’

‘He’s bald, Princeps.’

‘B-b-b-bald? Is that all?’

Niger looked in panic at Suillius.

‘Look at me, N-N-Niger; is that all that you can remember about the man you buggered: he was bald?’

‘It was dark, Princeps.’

Crispinus stifled a guffaw and Claudius shot him a warning look. ‘But he was your commanding officer; you must know what he looks like.’

Niger was momentarily flummoxed. ‘I had just transferred in, Princeps.’

‘If you’re lying, N-N-Niger, I’ll have you stripped of your citizenship and given a starring role in the games this afternoon. Now identify h-h-him.’

Terrified, the man turned and looked around the room to see three men who could be described as bald: two sitting together opposite the Emperor, and a third sitting with two other men. Without a pause he made his choice, knowing that hesitation would be an admission of dishonesty. ‘It’s him.’

Claudius roared with laughter as he looked at Callistus gazing back at the false witness’s finger. Vespasian was sure he detected both Narcissus and Pallas trying to cover amusement under their neutral masks.

Asiaticus joined in with his Emperor’s mirth, looking across at a deflated Suillius. ‘The irony is, Suillius, that at the time this buggery was alleged to have taken place, I wasn’t bald.’

‘Take him away,’ Claudius ordered through his laughter. ‘I look forward to seeing more of you later, Niger; a lot more.’ He took Messalina’s hand. ‘You were so right, dearest one; none of these charges will prove to be true. I think that your friend Suillius has been misled; but nevertheless we should press on so that Asiaticus can prove his innocence.’

As the hapless Niger was dragged off, screaming, Asiaticus got to his feet. ‘I am no taker, Suillius. Just ask your sons, they will confirm that I’m a man. We’ll take up the issue of how and why you got someone to lie about me to the Emperor later, once he’s thrown the rest of your charges out.’

‘He came to me,’ Suillius protested. ‘I don’t trawl the gutter for false witnesses.’

‘Don’t you? Let’s see what your next witness is like; I hope that he’s better coached. What’s he going to accuse me of? Ah yes, adultery with Poppaea Sabina, daughter of the late Gaius Poppaeus Sabinus. So tell me, Suillius, does her husband, Publius Cornelius Lentulus Scipio, a distinguished man in his own right and descended from so many great men, also accuse his wife of adultery? And, if so, does he accuse me of being her lover?’

Suillius spread his arms. ‘Does a husband always know of his wife’s …’ He trailed off as he felt Messalina’s cold stare pierce him; everyone in the room shifted uneasily, including Claudius, and Vespasian wondered just how aware of Messalina’s extramarital activities he really was.

Asiaticus seized on the moment and spoke directly to Claudius. ‘What husband cannot be aware of being cuckolded, Princeps, even if he refuses to acknowledge the signs?’

Claudius answered with a series of uncontrolled head twitches spraying saliva in an arc about him. Messalina stared at Asiaticus, her face rigid.

‘I’ll ask you again, Suillius: does Scipio accuse his wife of adultery?’

‘No.’

‘Then who does?’

‘One of his freedmen.’

‘A freedman? And did he take this accusation first to his patron, the man to whom he owes complete loyalty?’

‘He came to me first.’

Asiaticus met Messalina’s eyes and held them for a couple of heartbeats before addressing Claudius. ‘Princeps, what would you make of a freedman casting such aspersions on the character of his patron’s wife to strangers?’

‘I-i-in-int-t-t-tolerab-b-ble.’

‘And yet here we have it: a freedman going about saying such things. Imagine, Princeps, the gods forbid, should your freedmen go making such accusations in public instead of coming to you? Would that be acceptable?’

Claudius made a sound akin to a man being slowly garrotted as he tried to form his answer and Vespasian realised that Asiaticus had hit the mark: Claudius must give some credence to certain of the rumours about his wife.

Messalina sat rigid whilst Narcissus observed Asiaticus through half-closed eyes, revolving a ruby ring on his little finger; Pallas and Callistus both looked as if they had not taken a breath for a long while. A droplet of sweat dripped down Suillius’ forehead whilst Vitellius and Crispinus both gaped at Asiaticus in unconcealed horror as he stood patiently awaiting the Emperor’s protracted efforts to give his reply.

‘No!’ Claudius finally exploded, his face puce and his chin slimed with drool. ‘No one will accuse my Messalina of such a thing in public; in public she is beyond reproach.’ He jerked his shaking head towards his freedmen and continued his tirade. ‘But if one of my freedmen thought that there was the slightest stain on her character it would be his duty to bring his proof to me, the h-h-husband, and no one else; a man’s wife’s conduct is for him alone to deal with and not for public consumption! It’s the way of the ancestors!’

There was complete silence in the room apart from Claudius’ panting and snuffling as he fought to regain his composure. Messalina’s eyes, black as beads and cold as the Styx, fixed on Asiaticus as he waited patiently, seemingly unruffled by the outburst that he had goaded his Emperor into, staring at Narcissus who gazed back with the faintest of cold smiles.

‘He’s just forced Narcissus’ hand,’ Gaius whispered to the brothers. ‘If Claudius were to get proof of Messalina’s infidelity from any source other than his freedmen he would never trust them again. Asiaticus knows Messalina will ensure that he’s found guilty today and has just guaranteed his quick vengeance.’

A loud sob broke over Claudius’ laboured breathing and Vespasian looked up to see Messalina with tears running free down her cheeks.

‘My d-dearest!’ Claudius cried. ‘I wasn’t suggesting for one moment that you are anything other than a model wife.’

‘I know, my darling,’ Messalina croaked, dabbing at her face with her palla and looking at Claudius with wet, pleading eyes. ‘But it’s the injustice of a woman’s lot in society that grieves me; aspersions are cast upon our characters by jealous people, and despite our innocence some of the slander sticks. Poor Poppaea’s reputation is being sullied by a freedman and she can’t even defend herself. Promise me, my darling, that should such lies about me ever reach your ears that you will give me the chance to put your mind at rest, and once I’ve done that you will punish the scandal-monger as you will this freedman who has behaved so dishonourably.’

‘Of course I will, sweet girl; I would never b-b-believe anything b-bad of you until I have seen your eyes.’ He leant over and kissed her cheek, adding to its moistness, before turning to Suillius. ‘I have no wish to see this freedman witness of yours, other than in the arena with N-N-Niger this afternoon. That charge is thrown out. Now, what of the next, Suillius, have you been misled on this one too?’

‘No, Princeps, on my honour; and you know the witness to be of the highest integrity having entrusted the education of your son to him. This is the most serious charge: that Asiaticus was heard boasting that he was the unidentified man who took part in Caligula’s murder.’

‘T-time is running on so b-b-bring Sosibius in.’

Pallas stood. ‘Before we hear from Sosibius, Princeps, I feel obliged to make one admission.’

‘Well?’

‘It’s just that this morning I heard my dear colleague, Callistus, saying that he thinks that he has proof as to exactly who this man was and that Narcissus and I have covered up the evidence. I thought that I’d mention it so that he could have the chance to enlighten us all and stop this charade.’

Vespasian’s heart leapt and he glanced at Sabinus; the colour had drained from his face.

Callistus swallowed and then got to his feet, casting a quick sidelong glance at Pallas that Vespasian assumed was one of hatred, despite his expressionless face. ‘Princeps, I’m afraid that Pallas is mistaken; I said no such thing.’

Pallas insisted. ‘But I heard you say, my dear Callistus, that you had evidence that Asiaticus was not the man and that we knew all along.’

‘I said nothing of the sort, I assure you, Princeps.’

Claudius twitched impatiently. ‘Well? D-d-did he or didn’t he, Pallas?’

Pallas bowed in apology. ‘I must insist that he did and I’m bringing it to your attention, in an open hearing, because I wouldn’t want him to come to you in private, should you find Asiaticus guilty, and cloud the issue and, at the same time, cause you to question Narcissus’ and my loyalty to you. I believe that it’s best to get this out into the open, Princeps, for all our sakes.’

‘Yes, yes; to whom did he say this?’

Pallas cleared his throat as Callistus wrung his hands aware of Messalina’s distrusting gaze. ‘To Titus Flavius Vespasianus.’

Vespasian swallowed a bile retch.

‘Vespasian? Is he back in Rome?’

‘He arrived yesterday and I have him here ready to confirm the conversation.’

‘Bring him in.’

Vespasian stood before the Emperor and Empress knowing that he had to answer Claudius’ question quickly and fluently. ‘Yes, Princeps; I spoke to Callistus this morning in the palace. I was on my way down from my family’s apartment. The Praetorians guarding Britannicus, who had spent the night there with Titus, will confirm that.’

‘Ahh, they are such good friends those two,’ Claudius said, his concentration shifting, ‘aren’t they, my dear? It was such a fine idea of your brother’s to move young T-T-Titus into the palace.’

‘Yes, dearest,’ Messalina replied without the same enthusiasm. ‘But we should listen to what Vespasian has to say. Please continue.’

‘I met him in one of the corridors …’

‘W-where were you going?’

Where had he been going? For an instant he felt panic well up and then came the moment of clarity in which he saw exactly what Pallas had done: he had defied Narcissus whilst at the same time compromising Callistus with both the Emperor and Empress and he, Vespasian, was expected to lie to condemn an innocent man, a man who had showed him hospitality only the evening before. ‘I was coming here, Princeps.’

‘What for?’

‘Because Narcissus asked me to be present to corroborate my brother’s evidence.’

‘What evidence?’

‘That Asiaticus had also boasted to him, whilst they had been in Britannia together, that he took part in Caligula’s assassination.’ He was acutely aware of Asiaticus’ eyes boring into his back as he blatantly bore false witness against a guiltless man, but he knew that he had been dragged in so deep and so quickly that there was no way of extracting himself without condemning his brother and putting his own life in danger. There was nothing he could do; it was just how Rome worked. ‘Sabinus told me of it later. Naturally I was shocked and told him that he should speak to Narcissus about it as soon as he got back to Rome; which he did and that’s why he’s here today to back up Sosibius’ evidence.’

‘So why did Callistus talk to you in the corridor?’

Vespasian did his best nervous glance in Callistus’ direction — although no acting was required as he felt the genuine emotion. ‘Callistus said that he had evidence that Asiaticus was innocent and he accused me of being in collusion with Narcissus and Pallas; he said that they knew that Asiaticus was being framed and that the culprit was actually my brother and he was testifying against Asiaticus to keep himself in the clear. It’s nonsense of course because everybody knows that at the time of the assassination Sabinus was a thousand miles away serving as legate of the Ninth Hispana; it’s a matter of record.’

‘So why did Callistus say this?’

Vespasian lowered his head. ‘I don’t know, Princeps; you’ll have to ask him.’

‘It’s all lies!’ Callistus shouted. ‘I haven’t seen this man since he was in Narcissus’ office, with his brother, helping him beg for his life two days after Caligula’s murder.’

Claudius frowned and held onto the arms of his chair to prevent his body twitching in his excitement. ‘Is this true, V–Vespasian?’

‘Yes and no, Princeps; before this morning that was the last time I saw Callistus. But it was a month after the assassination and no one was begging for their lives; your freedmen had recalled my brother from Pannonia in order that he and I should retrieve the Eagle of the Seventeenth for you, which, I’m ashamed to admit, we failed to do.’

‘Yes, Gabinius got that for me but you loyal Flavians found the Nineteenth’s Capricorn and I will always be grateful to you for that. Narcissus, what do you have to say?’

Narcissus got to his feet looking as if the whole thing was a matter of such little significance that he could not quite believe that anyone was taking the trouble to discuss it. ‘It is all exactly as Vespasian says, Princeps; I’m afraid that Callistus has just been mistaken and it would seem that Asiaticus’ guilt is beyond doubt. I also have reason to believe that Asiaticus has transferred a great deal of his wealth back to his home province in Narbonese Gaul; it would seem that he is planning on leaving Rome, although for what purpose I couldn’t say. However, I would remark that a man who evidently has so little respect for the imperial family could well be a threat back in his homeland surrounded by members of his tribe whose loyalty to Rome is, to say the least, unenthusiastic.’

Vespasian did not turn around to look at Asiaticus but he could well imagine his face and that image added to the sickness that he felt at his own actions; but then, he reflected, he had been forced into lying, although that was no balm for his conscience.

‘D-d-do you have any defence to this charge, Asiaticus?’

Asiaticus did not bother getting to his feet. ‘What can I say, Princeps, apart from denying everything and calling Vespasian a liar?’

‘But it all fits. Lucius, will you speak for him?’

As Vitellius got to his feet, Messalina let forth another stream of tears. ‘I’m sorry, beloved husband, but the proof of this dear man’s guilt has unsettled me, I must leave before I swoon.’ She rose from her chair. ‘I hope that Lucius’ eloquence in defence will persuade you to mercy, but whatever you decide I know it will be just.’ Descending from the dais she paused in front of Vitellius as he took the floor, and on the pretext of kissing him on the cheek she whispered in his ear before leaving the room with her retinue.

Vitellius cleared his throat, evidently aroused by close proximity to Messalina’s tempting mouth, and took an orator’s pose with his chin in the air. ‘Princeps, it grieves me more than I can say that you believe Asiaticus to be guilty as we all know him to be a loyal man. When he spoke to me this morning to ask if he might be allowed to choose the manner of his death I said-’

‘He d-d-did what?’

‘He asked to choose the manner of his death, Princeps.’

‘Well, that proves it beyond question! Any man asking to be able to choose the manner of his own death before he is found guilty must be guilty. I’ll waste no more time on this, I have the beast hunt to open.’ Claudius rose unsteadily to his feet. ‘Asiaticus, I will show mercy owing to our long friendship and the service you have done Rome in Britannia and elsewhere; you may take your own life and your family may inherit your property. I expect you to be dead by morning.’

Without waiting for a reaction, the Emperor lurched down the steps and then paused in front of Vespasian. ‘You and your family shall join us in the imperial box, V–V-Vespasian. N-n-naturally I shall be taking Britannicus to the games and I’m sure that he’d love to have Titus for company and my Messalina always enjoys Flavia’s conversation. We shall see you later.’

Unable to refuse the invitation, Vespasian bowed his head. As Claudius turned and lurched out of the room, he glanced at Pallas who acknowledged him with an inclination of the head as if to say that he had played his dishonourable part well. As he made to leave he felt a hand on his shoulder; he turned to see Asiaticus looking at him with a wry smile. ‘I would have done exactly the same in your place, Vespasian; I bear you no malice. I shall spend my last evening dining with friends in the Gardens of Lucullus. I would be grateful if you would join me at my table.’