Rome’s Fallen Eagle

CHAPTER XIII

‘Brace yourselves, my lovelies!’ Primus Pilus Tatius roared at his double-strength century of a hundred and sixty men kneeling on one knee on the wet deck of a trireme hurtling towards the shore. The men immediately leant forward, thumping their right hands and the bases of their shields down onto the planking, their pila clasped in their left along with their shield grips. ‘That’s my boys; this won’t hurt — too much.’

Vespasian nodded to himself in satisfaction at the discipline of the first century of the first cohort of the II Augusta as he watched the oncoming beach, less than a hundred paces away, blinking his eyes against the sheeting rain. Next to him, in the bow of the ship, the aquilifer of the II Augusta held its Eagle aloft; beyond him, a line of ships with no sails set but each with oars dipping in unison as their stroke-masters piped out the same beat disappeared into the downpour. Vespasian cursed the weather in these northern climes and took a firm hold of the rail as two sailors ran forward to man the ropes holding upright the two twenty-foot-long, eight-foot-wide corvi, the ramps by which they would disembark.

‘Oars in,’ the trierarchus, who captained the trireme, called through a speaking trumpet at the stern.

A shrill, long call on the stroke-master’s pipe heralded the mass rasping of wood on wood as a hundred and twenty oars were drawn in through their ports; the beach was now less than fifty paces away. Again Vespasian nodded to himself in satisfaction: that was the prescribed distance to cease rowing so that the ship would be grounded but not beached. He checked his sword was loose in its scabbard and cast a glance along the line of triremes; only one still had its oars out. ‘Who the fuck’s that, Tatius?’

The primus pilus quickly counted off the ships. ‘Third and fourth centuries, second cohort, sir!’

Vespasian grunted and braced himself solidly against the ship’s side whilst Tatius did the same with one hand and with the other took a firm grip of the aquilifer’s shoulder so that the Eagle would not fall. With a slight upwards jolt and a grating of churning shingle the hull hit the sea bed; deceleration was immediate and swift, forcing Vespasian to tense his arm and leg muscles as he was propelled forward. The grating transformed into a tooth-aching screech as the speed of the vessel was checked until, with a groan of straining timber and a sudden lurch, the trireme came to a halt, resting — but not embedded — on the beach.

‘Up!’ Tatius cried.

As one the first century got to their feet, transferring their pila into their right hands; the corvi were released to fall with a descending creak to slam into the shingle.

‘The first century will disembark at double time,’ Tatius roared as he and the aquilifer stepped on to the ramp. Vespasian leapt onto the second ramp and jogged down, feeling the wood bounce slightly beneath his feet until he hit the shingle; the men raced down to the beach in groups of four behind him.

Bawled at by Tatius and his optio, they had formed up into four lines of forty by the time the last men had disembarked.

‘Advance quick time one hundred paces!’ Tatius bellowed once he was satisfied that the lines were straight.

Pounding over the shingle, the first century doubled up the sloping beach. Behind them the fifth century moved into place from their landing point to the right and from the left the rest of the first cohort came smartly up to form up next to them.

‘Halt!’ Tatius ordered from his place just in front of the aquilifer.

The first cohort came to a crunching stop.

Vespasian looked along the beach to see the other nine cohorts of the II Augusta dressed perfectly in two lines along the strand; it had taken little more than two hundred heartbeats. The ships that had disgorged them bobbed on the shallow water afloat once more now that their weight had been drastically reduced; except one: the third and forth centuries of the second cohort.

As Vespasian marched forward to his primus pilus a lone horseman appeared over the scraggy mounds at the top of the beach leading a spare horse; he squinted his eyes against the rain at the oncoming man.

‘Sir!’ Magnus shouted as he drove his horse down the beach.

Vespasian frowned in surprise to see his friend coming out of the rain.

‘What is it, Magnus?’

‘Aulus Plautius has called a meeting of all legates and auxiliary prefects, so I thought I’d bring you a horse. Narcissus has just arrived and my guess is something’s going on. I don’t think he’s come all this way for a cup of hot wine and a nice fireside chat, if you take my meaning?’

‘Can’t he ever stop meddling? All right, I’ll be there in a moment.’ Vespasian turned to Tatius. ‘Very good, primus pilus, apart from that arsehole trierarchus who doesn’t know when to stop rowing; go and shout at him for a while, would you?’

‘Sir!’

‘Get the men and ships back to Gesoriacum, give them something to eat and then do the whole thing again this afternoon with the tide out; and this time I want no mistakes. I’ll join you if I can.’

‘Sir!’ Tatius bellowed, snapping to attention.

Vespasian nodded, mounting the spare horse that Magnus had brought. ‘Right, let’s go and see what plans that oily Greek’s got to make our lives even harder.’

The rain whipped in relentlessly as Vespasian and Magnus made their way the ten miles to Aulus Plautius’ headquarters; these were based in the villa that Caligula had had constructed for himself on the coast just outside the walls of the port of Gesoriacum when he had come north to attempt the conquest of Britannia four years earlier. All the land around the port on the Gallic Straits, opposite the island of Britannia, had been either ploughed and sown with wheat or barley or had been fenced off into fields containing more pigs and mules than Vespasian had ever seen. They were riding through what was essentially a huge farm stretching, even on a clear day, as far as the eye could see and then further; much further.

The business of supplying the invasion force of four legions and a similar number of auxiliaries, a total of almost forty thousand men in all, plus all the ancillary personnel — cart drivers, muleteers, slaves and sailors crewing the thousand-strong fleet — had not shocked Vespasian with its magnitude when he had first approached Gesoriacum at the head of the II Augusta six months before; it had, rather, inspired him. The idea that every stomach, whether human or animal, had to be filled every day was a logistical problem of such vast mathematical proportions that it made his head spin just to think of the amount of fodder required to feed enough pigs to provide the entire force with a meat ration for one day, or of how many square miles of pasture the army’s five thousand mules would get through in a month. It made his problems of supply for the II Augusta seem trivial and petty in comparison, but they had been problems that he had thoroughly enjoyed tackling once he had returned to Argentoratum.

He and Sabinus had returned to the Empire with Gabinius’ fleet — much to Sabinus’ discomfort over the two-day voyage — and then made their way down the Rhenus back to their new legions; Paetus and his Batavians had accompanied them on their journey south. The voyage had been on calm seas, thanks, as Magnus had often commented, to Ansigar’s timely sacrifice to Nehalennia, the goddess of the Northern Sea.

Upon their arrival at Mogontiacum, news had reached them of their father’s death, but this was tempered by the news of the birth of Vespasian’s daughter, Domitilla. Flavia had written herself and it was with both relief and joy that he had read the letter; a mother and child’s chances of survival in childbirth were about the same as a soldier’s on the battlefield.

Having left his brother to his new command and arriving back with his own legion in mid-June, Vespasian had spent the rest of the year and all of the following training the II Augusta in embarking on and disembarking from ships until they could do it as efficiently as he thought possible; this had proved a long task as he only had one trireme available to him, the rest having been commandeered — rather short-sightedly, he thought — for the invasion fleet. Whilst the centuries had been taking it in turns to run on and off the only ship, Vespasian had got to grips with the minutiae of commanding a legion and keeping it supplied with equipment, clothing, rations and livestock. He had revelled in it as now it seemed to him that he had the best of both worlds: he was managing a very large estate and at the same time serving Rome under one of her Eagles.

What Publius Gabinius had done with the Eagle of the Seventeenth, however, Vespasian and Sabinus neither knew nor cared. It had seemed simply to disappear — certainly no official mention had been made of it. However, they were just pleased to have survived and returned to evident favour. Sabinus had kept the Nineteenth Legion’s Capricorn from Gabinius and had sent it on to Pallas in Rome in the hope that it would help him in his power struggle with Callistus and also in recognition of his appointment as legate of the XIIII Gemina, the reason for which still mystified the two brothers. Sabinus had written to tell Vespasian that he had received no acknowledgement of the gift but neither had he received any indication that his life was still in danger, so he felt that he could assume now that his part in the assassination of Caligula had been forgotten by the very few people who knew about it. Vespasian, for his part, had been pleased that his family now seemed to be on even terms with Claudius’ three freedmen, on a personal level at least. Fom a professional point of view, however, the freedmen’s constant infighting had meant that the preparations for the invasion had not been straightforward. Each used his own sphere of influence to affect the planning in a way that would reflect well on themselves and badly on their two colleagues. Orders of artillery pieces had been doubled and then abruptly cancelled, before being reordered but at only half the original amount of engines. Gold and silver coin had been despatched from the mint at Lugdunum in the south of the province only for it to have been recalled after travelling almost half the distance north. Ships had disappeared and then reappeared a few days later but with half the complement of crewmen. But most disruptively, conflicting orders as to the timing, speed and objectives of the invasion had come on a regular basis sending Aulus Plautius into fits of rage at the civilian interference in what was, quite obviously, an exclusively military endeavour.

‘Perhaps Narcissus’ arrival might be a good thing after all,’ Vespasian mused as they rode past the first of the four vast legionary and auxiliary camps surrounding Gesoriacum.

Magnus wiped his eyes; despite his sporting of a widerimmed, leather hat, the rain still streamed down his face. ‘In that now he’s here he can change his mind as many times a day as he likes, rather than just when the courier leaves?’

‘I mean that perhaps if he’s here to see for himself the massive exercise in logistics that’s being undertaken then he might refrain from interfering.’

‘And the Emperor will no doubt start going through the day without drooling.’

‘Thank you, prefect. I’m attaching you to the Second Augusta, you will report to Legate Vespasian after this briefing,’ Aulus Plautius said as the prefect of I Cohort Hamiorum sat back down having given his report on the state of readiness of his newly arrived eastern archers. ‘That concludes all your reports, gentlemen.’ He cast his eyes around the four legates and thirty-three auxiliary prefects sitting on folding stools in the large chamber that he used as a briefing room in his headquarters; the walls had been whitewashed, covering, Vespasian assumed, some very unmilitary frescoes. Through the two open windows the rain beat down mercilessly onto the grey, unsettled sea. ‘I think, as we can all see, there is still a great deal more work to be done in terms of filling all the quartermasters’ stores. We have enough boots, for example, for every man on the force to land in Britannia decently shod; but what happens after a month of tough campaigning in that damp climate? I will not lose infantry because of a shortage of footwear nor will I lose cavalry because of a shortage of remounts. I’ve no doubt that you have all got your quartermasters doing everything possible to redress the shortages of reserves but I feel that this is a problem that will benefit from an overall perspective.’ Plautius indicated to the almost obese man sitting next to him in a ludicrously extravagant military uniform. ‘As you know, Gnaeus Sentius Saturninus will be administering the conquered tribes and keeping an eye on the client kings as the army moves forward; it therefore makes sense if I appoint him in overall command of re-provisioning as all the supply routes will naturally run through territory administered by him.’

Sentius smiled the smile of a man who had just smelt profit.

‘That’s made it very unlikely that I shall see my entire consignment of reserve tents before we go,’ Vespasian whispered to Sabinus next to him as Plautius praised his second-incommand’s administrative abilities and integrity.

Sabinus suppressed a grin. ‘And I’ll give up looking forward to my delivery of shovels, cooking pots and grain mills arriving on time and being complete.’

‘I still don’t understand how he managed to wheedle his way into this command after suggesting a return to the Republic when Claudius became emperor.’

Sabinus shrugged. ‘Why am I legate of the Fourteenth?’

‘… and therefore, if we are to be ready by mid-June,’ Plautius was continuing, ‘so as to take advantage of the forthcoming harvest in Britannia, I expect every one of you to take your provisioning requests to Sentius.’ There was a mumble from the officers present that could have either been construed as consent to a very workable plan or resignation as to the way that resupplying the army worked; Plautius chose to believe the former. ‘Good. Tomorrow is the calends of April, which means we have seventy-five days left. Prefects, you are dismissed; legates, you will come with me to report to the imperial secretary.’

Narcissus had taken up residence on the first floor of Caligula’s villa and Vespasian was not surprised by the gaudy artwork and statuary that littered the staircase and corridors on the way to his quarters, vestiges of the brash young Emperor’s taste in interior decoration. What did surprise him, though, was the presence of Praetorian Guards on duty outside Narcissus’ suite of rooms. ‘Claudius’ freedman is taking on all the trappings of an emperor, it would seem,’ he muttered to Sabinus as a centurion left a visibly insulted Aulus Plautius standing outside the door whilst he went to enquire of the ex-slave whether he was ready to receive the general of the invasion army.

‘Perhaps the Saturnalia has been extended for the whole year but no one bothered to tell us,’ Sabinus suggested.

Vespasian glanced at the other two legates, Corvinus and the recently arrived Gnaeus Hosidius Geta, who had been given the XX in recognition of his part in the annexation of Mauretania the previous year; neither looked pleased at being made to wait upon a freedman, however powerful.

‘The imperial secretary will see you now, general,’ the centurion informed them as he opened the door.

Plautius bristled. ‘That is most gracious of him.’

Vespasian detected a look of sympathy with Plautius’ sarcasm in the centurion’s eyes as he passed into a high-ceilinged reception room, at the far end of which sat Narcissus behind a large desk; he did not get up. Any thoughts Vespasian might have had about the presumption of the freedman were abruptly curtailed as he saw, sitting by a table to the left of Narcissus, with writing materials at the ready, Caenis.

His heart jumped and he almost stumbled; she smiled at him discreetly with only her eyes.

‘General Plautius,’ Narcissus crooned, bringing Vespasian back to the matter in hand, ‘and Legates Corvinus, Vespasian, Sabinus and Geta, I’m pleased to see you all looking so well in this bracing northern climate. Be seated.’ He indicated to Caenis who took up a stylus and began to write. ‘This is a formal meeting so my secretary will be minuting it. The Emperor sends his greetings and instructs me to tell you that I speak for him.’

‘That is impossible!’ Plautius exploded as Narcissus finished speaking.

Narcissus remained unmoved. ‘No, general, it’s not impossible, it’s necessary.’

‘We are going mid-June so that we only have to take a month’s supply of grain with us to see us through until the harvest is ready.’

‘Then you’ll just have to take more with you.’

‘Have you any idea how much more we’ll need if we go next month?’

Narcissus shrugged his shoulders, half closing his eyes and held out his hands, palms up, as if the question was completely irrelevant to him.

‘Three pounds a day, times forty thousand men, times sixty days until the earliest harvest is ready, that’s … that’s …’ Plautius looked around at his legates for help with the arithmetic.

‘That’s one hundred and twenty thousand pounds a day making a total of seven million, two hundred thousand pounds, general,’ Vespasian offered helpfully.

‘Exactly! And that’s just to feed the troops; I’ll need a quarter as much again to feed all the ancillary people and then there’s the barley for the cavalry mounts and beasts of burden. And it will all have to be transported by pack-mules taking a maximum load of one hundred and sixty pounds each, until we can get a decent road built.’

‘Then I suggest making road building one of your priorities, general, because this is how it’s going to be.’ Narcissus laid a hand on the desk in front of him in a gesture that was at the same time gentle and resolute; his eyes hardened. ‘I calculate that it will take one hundred days between the sending of your message and Claudius arriving with you. So if he’s to be back over in Gaul before the autumn equinox and the real threat of gales in mid-September you need to have crossed the Tamesis by the beginning of June when you send your message to Claudius.’

Plautius stared at Narcissus with loathing. ‘And what should this message say?’

‘Oh, that’s very simple, general. You should tell your Emperor that you have met with fierce resistance and that you need reinforcements and, if at all possible, his presence, in order that he can take over the reins of command that are proving so weighty. I will then have it read out to the Senate who will beg him to personally come and save Rome’s beleaguered legions, and, dropping everything, he will rush to your aid and bring those much-needed reinforcements.’

‘Which will be there ready and waiting outside the city?’

‘Wrong, general, they will be here, ready and waiting; you’ll be able to inspect them in a few days’ time, if you like.’

‘You’ve brought them with you?’

‘Of course, Decimus Valerius Asiaticus commands them until the emperor arrives.’

‘You’re just setting me up to look like a fool.’

‘No, general, I’m setting Claudius up to look like a hero; how you appear is completely irrelevant.’

‘Do you think that the Senate will believe it?’

‘Not for one moment; but the people will and when he comes back laden with booty and captives to celebrate his triumph they will see the hard evidence of it.’

‘My triumph.’

‘No, general, the Emperor’s triumph, the triumph that will make the people love him. What use have you for the love of the people? What would you do with it?’ Narcissus paused to let the implied threat sink in. ‘Now, you can either go along with this in the knowledge that you will be rewarded or I can find someone else who is willing to help my master to win the people’s love. Which is it to be?’

Plautius pursed his lips and breathed deeply. ‘We go in seventeen days, four days after the ides of April.’

‘An excellent day, general, my master will approve; I’m sure the auguries will find it most auspicious once they hear that it is the Emperor’s preferred date. Let me not detain you, you all must have much to do.’ With an airy wave of a pudgy hand he dismissed his social betters, none of whom saluted him.

Aulus Plautius got to his feet, puce with rage, spun on his heel and almost barged his way through his legates as they too stood. As Vespasian turned and followed he saw Corvinus and Geta exchange a worried glance, echoing how he felt about this new development that threatened the success of the enterprise; Magnus had not been wrong, he thought, as he fell in beside Sabinus who was looking equally concerned.

‘Legates Sabinus and Vespasian,’ Narcissus crooned just as they reached the door, stopping them, ‘a brief, private word with you both, if you please.’

Corvinus gave the brothers a quizzical look. They turned as Narcissus dismissed Caenis; she left the room passing closer than necessary to Vespasian so that he smelt her scent.

‘You may wonder why you both remain in favour,’ Narcissus mused as the door closed, ‘especially you, Sabinus, seeing as you did not complete your half of our bargain.’

‘We found the Eagle,’ Sabinus protested, sitting back down. ‘Gabinius took it from …’

Narcissus raised a hand, silencing him. ‘I’m well aware of what happened, legate, and of why and how it happened, because I sanctioned it. As I’m sure you’ve both surmised, it made no difference to me who found the Eagle so long as it was found. When Callistus came to me in private, after you had left Rome, saying that he had information as to where it was hidden, I gave my permission for him to send Gabinius after it. It suited me to have two expeditions and it suited me to have my colleagues squabbling over who would gain the glory for finding it. What didn’t suit me, however, was Callistus’ little plan to have you killed because that reduced the chances of success; had I found out about it sooner I would have put a stop to it.’

Vespasian met Narcissus’ eyes and, for once, believed him. ‘We’re very pleased to hear that.’

‘That’s gratifying but neither here nor there. What is relevant, though, is my other reason for not wanting you killed. As you know, I’d specifically instructed Gabinius that he was not to harm you if your paths crossed, and I also sent him a copy of your orders so he fully understood that you were under my protection.’

‘Even if the Eagle had not been found?’

‘Even if the Eagle had not been found.’

The brothers glanced sidelong at each other, utterly confused.

Narcissus’ face betrayed a rare hint of amusement. ‘Believe me, that was not the case when we made our bargain; then I fully intended to have you killed, Sabinus, had you failed. But things change very quickly in politics and politicians must change with them if they are to survive.

‘I will be frank with you. In the first few months of Claudius’ reign it became apparent to me that I was not the major influence over my impressionable patron; I may have my mouth to his ear but, unfortunately, his very attractive young wife, Messalina, has hers to his cock and I think that we can all agree that is a far more influential position to be in.’

Vespasian was not about to argue the point as a vision of Caenis rocked his concentration. Sabinus grunted his agreement, no doubt contemplating Clementina’s favours.

‘Messalina, however, unlike me, does not have Claudius’ best interests at heart; in fact she has no one’s interests at heart other than her own and those of her brother, Corvinus. Now, that’s not surprising in itself but what does concern me is that her interests are purely pleasure and power and that the Emperor’s cock is not the only such organ that she has her mouth close to.’ Narcissus steepled his hands and leant across the desk. ‘She is starting to build a formidable network of ambitious young men tied to her in bonds of mutual gratification and lust for power; in other words, an alternative court.’

‘Then why don’t you tell the Emperor?’ Vespasian asked, struggling to see what this had to do with him or his brother.

‘I have, and so have Pallas and Callistus but he doesn’t believe us, he won’t believe anything against the mother of his new son; so I need to drive a wedge between them, and you are both to be a part of that wedge.’

‘Why us?’

‘Because I need men whom I can trust.’

The brothers looked at Narcissus in astonishment.

‘You seem surprised, gentlemen. Of course I can trust you because I am the only person who can advance your careers as I have proved by giving you both legions to command. You both have a choice between me and obscurity — or worse. Do we understand each other?’

Of course they did. Vespasian and Sabinus mutely accepted the truth of the statement.

‘Good. Now, I believe that Messalina’s objective is to fill the top ranks of the army with her lovers, then rid herself of her husband and have Corvinus adopt her new son. The siblings will rule as co-regents until the child comes of age, or for even longer, supported by her network of loyal bed-sharers who will guarantee the loyalty of the legions. She canvasses Claudius regularly, seeking positions for men who have just left her bed as a thickstripe tribune or auxiliary prefect or as a legate, as she did in Geta’s case right at the beginning.’

‘Geta’s her lover?’ Sabinus was shocked.

‘One of the many.’

‘But he was made a legate in Mauretania shortly before she gave birth.’

‘He has specialised tastes, I would assume. But I knew they were having an affair whilst she was pregnant. What was strange, however, was Claudius appointing Geta without me or my colleagues suggesting it; most unusual. This is what first alerted me to Messalina using her influence over Claudius. Then, shortly after you left Rome, Claudius insisted on something that made no military sense whatsoever. We had already decided the makeup of the Britannia invasion force: three legions from the Rhenus, which is sensible, now that we have an understanding with the Germanic tribes; and then one of the legions from Hispania, which has been peaceful since the Cantabrian war, almost thirty years ago. However, Claudius vetoed this Hispanic legion and demanded instead that Corvinus’ Ninth Legion should be sent from Pannonia, a province that is, to say the least, restless. He could not be talked out of it, saying that his darling wife’s family deserved their share of glory.

‘At that point I could only guess at her real motives but I knew that she would not insist on her brother being put unnecessarily in harm’s way without a very good reason; I therefore began to counter her. I immediately began placing my people into as many positions in the other three legions as possible. Vespasian, you had already been appointed to the Second Augusta, which suited my purpose; but to strengthen my position I decided to overlook your part, Sabinus, in my patron’s elevation and, due to your experience as legate of the Ninth Hispana, which I felt might be helpful in the future, give you the Fourteenth. But then, a couple of months ago, my nomination for the legate of the Twentieth was recalled by the Emperor and replaced by Geta, ostensibly as a reward for his part in the campaign in Mauretania and its annexation. That move confirmed my suspicion: Messalina was hijacking the invasion for her own purposes.’

Vespasian looked at Sabinus and then back to Narcissus, frowning. ‘How come we’re still here? Surely she would have persuaded Claudius to replace us as well.’

‘Oh, she tried; she tried very hard, in fact, but one factor confounded her: the Nineteenth’s Capricorn. By this time I had been forced to confide in my two colleagues my fears of what would happen should she get her nominations in all four legions. Pallas showed me the Capricorn that you’d sent him.’ Narcissus paused and let his gaze pass between the brothers. ‘That you’d sent him, not me; but I shall put that bit of disloyalty aside. Anyway, it was just what we needed. We presented it to Claudius saying that it was a gift from you two. He was thrilled and made a big public spectacle and propaganda coup as he returned it to the Temple of Mars. After that you were safe; Claudius will hear nothing against you. Not even Messalina can get him to replace his “two loyal Flavians”, as he’s taken to calling you.’

Sabinus ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Why was the Capricorn so important to him when he already has the Seventeenth’s Eagle?’

Vespasian took one look at Narcissus and understood. ‘Because he doesn’t know about the Eagle yet, brother; does he, imperial secretary?’

‘The Eagle will be found at the appropriate moment.’ Narcissus’ tone showed that discussion of that subject was over. ‘So, I knew that I still had two of the four legions going to Britannia under my control and not hers. I also managed to ensure that Asiaticus commanded the reinforcements; as you both know well, he’s been of great use to the emperor before.’

Vespasian remembered the part that Asiaticus, whilst consul, had played when he and Corbulo had murdered Poppaeus, at the behest of Claudius’ mother, the Lady Antonia, eight years previously. The murder had been planned by Pallas and Narcissus and had left Claudius fabulously wealthy. He blanched at the thought; it was not a deed to be proud of. ‘I imagine that their shared past ensures his loyalty.’

Narcissus’ hand gesture dismissed the notion. ‘It’s more the fact that Asiaticus helped Claudius to invest his windfall from the Poppaeus incident and has done very well out of it; in fact, he’s recently purchased the Gardens of Lucullus. He’s very grateful and I can rely on him as I can on you two. If all four legions and the reinforcements were commanded by Messalina’s men, Claudius would not get his victory.’

‘She would sabotage it?’ Vespasian looked incredulous. ‘But that would be madness; she needs Claudius to secure his position in order to safeguard hers.’

‘Not if you look at the bigger picture. When Aulus Plautius was appointed to the command there was a debate about who would take over if he were to be killed. The obvious choice would be that fat pig Sentius but even Claudius recognised that that would be a disaster, and I wasn’t foolish enough to try and persuade him otherwise. It would take too long to get a suitable candidate from Rome or one of the provinces, which is why I chose Asiaticus to command the reinforcements; he would only be a couple of days away. But to counter me, Messalina suggested, whilst no doubt working her feminine charms on her husband, that her brother should be nominated as the commander designate as he would be closer to the action, and Claudius agreed and cannot be argued out of it. Corvinus has an imperial mandate to that effect and I believe that he intended to make use of it.’

‘He’s going to murder Plautius?’

‘He was going to murder Plautius; now he’s not so sure. That worried look that you may have noticed pass between him and Geta was not concern for the success of the invasion, it was because their plans have been disrupted. Corvinus and Messalina’s original idea was for him to seize command once victory was assured. He would claim the glory, which, as the brother of the Empress, Claudius would not be able to deny him; Claudius’ position would therefore be weakened by the invasion, not strengthened. So to counter that, I decided that Claudius should be present at the final victory and lead the army in person, even though I knew that it would mean bringing the timetable forward considerably and put a great strain on the logistics of the whole enterprise. Having never had the chance of personal military glory, he jumped at the idea and Messalina couldn’t be seen to argue with it, although I’m sure that she’ll express many a false concern for his welfare from beneath the sheets. So now if Corvinus was to decide to murder Plautius he knows that the Emperor will be coming to claim all the glory anyway, so what’s the point?’

‘None at all.’

‘Yet he still may try, and then he and Geta will ignore the order to wait at the Tamesis and press on to a victory before Claudius arrives. So this is what I need you two for: keep Plautius alive and don’t let Corvinus and Geta go too far before the Emperor arrives.’

‘We should warn Plautius,’ Sabinus suggested. ‘He’ll be easier to keep alive if he’s watching out for himself.’

Vespasian shook his head. ‘No, brother; I imagine that is something that the imperial secretary has already discounted for security reasons.’

Narcissus twitched an eyebrow appreciatively. ‘Indeed, legate; Plautius must know nothing of this and I want your oaths that whatever happens, and I mean whatever happens, you will not go to him.’ He turned back to Sabinus. ‘If he were warned of this impending treachery he would do one or both of two things. He would write to the Emperor demanding that Corvinus and Geta are replaced and, with me not in Rome to filter Claudius’ mail, that letter would get through. He would also perhaps confront them with their plan. Either way, Messalina would be alerted to the fact that I am on to her and that must never happen; my life would be in great danger and Messalina would be more careful in any future conspiracies. To get rid of this harpy I have to keep her feeling secure so that she becomes arrogant to the point of carelessness.’ Narcissus’ lips flickered in a mirthless smile. ‘It may surprise you to learn that to add to her sense of security I’ve even been helping the vengeful bitch to prosecute old enemies of her family.’

Vespasian sighed. ‘Nothing surprises me in imperial politics any more.’

Caenis wrapped her arms around Vespasian’s neck and kissed him, pressing the length of her body hard against his. ‘I’ve missed you, my love.’

Vespasian responded with equal fervour whilst Sabinus and Magnus looked around his tent as if the plain furnishings and sparse decoration were suddenly worthy of closer scrutiny.

‘What are you doing here?’ Vespasian asked, disengaging himself.

‘Exactly what it looks like: I’m the secretary’s secretary, and would you believe back in Rome I have my own secretary!’

Vespasian laughed. ‘The secretary’s secretary’s secretary? That is surely taking bureaucracy to an extreme level.’

‘Perhaps, but Narcissus, Pallas and Callistus love it; the more functionaries that they can cram into the palace and the more protocols that they put in place the harder it is for anyone but them to understand how things work.’

‘But why are you working for Narcissus, rather than Pallas?’

‘Claudius ordered me to and I can’t disobey my patron and Emperor, can I? I think that it was Narcissus’ idea with Pallas’ connivance. They use me to communicate with each other without Callistus’ knowledge.’

‘Loathsome little shit tried to have us killed,’ Sabinus spat.

‘Yes, Pallas was as furious as I’ve ever seen him when he found out; he very nearly raised his voice. It shattered any little trust that he and Narcissus had for Callistus. Now they’re trying to find or fabricate evidence that Callistus is working with Messalina so that he’ll go down with her. Rome’s not a good place to be at the moment.’

‘How’s our uncle coping with it?’ Vespasian asked.

‘He’s keeping out of the way as much as possible, although his new domestic arrangements mean that he has to get out of the house more than he would like.’

‘Mother’s finally arrived?’

‘Yes, two months ago, Artebudz escorted her; she and Flavia have differing views on how to look after children.’

Vespasian grimaced. ‘I can imagine. I don’t suppose they keep them to themselves either, do they?’

‘I’m afraid not. I’ve got letters for you from both of them and one from your uncle, all no doubt complaining about each other.’

‘It’s as bad as Claudius’ squabbling freedmen,’ Magnus commented, pouring himself a cup of wine.

‘Worse even,’ Sabinus chuckled, ‘at least they don’t all live in the same house.’

Vespasian scowled at his brother. ‘Perhaps I really should start thinking about getting my own house.’

‘Don’t come asking me for a loan, brother.’

‘I’d wait a while, sir,’ Magnus advised refilling his cup. ‘Things ain’t going to be too stable in Rome with Narcissus and his mates bringing down the Empress.’

‘If they manage to get her.’

‘Oh, I’m sure they will get her; but the trouble is when they do who’s going to take her place? That’ll be a position that will attract applications from some poisonous bitches.’

‘We’ll worry about one poisonous bitch at a time. Seeing as Narcissus seems to have involved us in this fight I see no reason for him not to involve us in the next.’ Vespasian put an arm around Caenis’ shoulder. ‘In the meantime, I’ve got things to do.’

Magnus drained his cup. ‘I thought you were going to join your lads practising for the invasion this afternoon.’

‘I’m sure they can manage on their own.’

‘Whilst you invade elsewhere, if you take my meaning?’

Caenis smiled. ‘Something like that, Magnus.’