David Wishart: Germanicus

'That's all right,' she said faintly. 'Marcus, I think I'll go inside for a little and leave you to talk. Nice to meet you, Flavonius Lippillus.'

He rose politely as she left and then sat down again. We drank for a while in silence and Lippillus nibbled at an olive.

'One more thing,' I said. 'You know anything about a guy named Publius Vitellius?'

He gave me a sharp look. 'Germanicus's pal? The one who helped prosecute Calpurnius Piso?'

'That's right.'

'Nothing official, no.' The eyes were still sharp. 'Nor unofficial either, if that's the sort of thing you're interested in. Just the usual background stuff.'

I topped up his wine cup. 'Anything you've got.'

'That's not much. He was on Germanicus's staff in Germany, involved in the campaign against the tribes. And of course he had a bad time coming back.'

'Yeah? Tell me.'

'If you're really interested you'd do better asking someone else. I'm no military expert.'

'You've just got the ordinary layman's knowledge. Sure, I'll bet.' I'd bet, too, that if I asked him about anything from domestic plumbing to the current state of trade with India he'd still claim to be an amateur and then give me exactly what I wanted to know. 'You're doing okay as far as I can see. What bad time?'

'Germanicus's fleet got caught by the low tides along the German coast. He lightened the ships by beaching two of his legions and ordering Vitellius to take them on by land. Trouble was, that meant crossing the mud flats. When the tide came in it was a shambles. A lot of the men were drowned before the fleet could pick them up again.'

'Uh-huh.' I sipped my wine. If I was looking for a reason why Vitellius should betray Germanicus then I'd found it. Forget flash and histrionics, this was incompetence pure and simple. Generals have been wary of ocean tides since old Julius lost half his British fleet because he hadn't tied it up properly. That was seventy years ago, and there was no excuse nowadays for failing to take the local conditions into account. Two legions meant ten thousand men, plus the auxiliaries and baggage handlers who would've contributed another couple of thousand at least; a major part of the Rhine force. Germanicus could've lost them all without a blow struck in anger, and through his own stupidity. Almost as bad as the Varus disaster in the Teutoburg. To a soldier like Vitellius a blunder like that would've been unforgivable…

Lippillus was getting to his feet. 'Corvinus, if you're going to drift off then I'll leave you to it, okay?'

'Hey, I'm sorry!' I brought my eyes back into focus. 'Sit down. There's still the best part of a jug here.'

'Yeah, I know. But I'm on duty, remember. I only called in while the boss is smarming his aunt, and if I report back legless he'll have my guts. Nice seeing you again, though.'

'Same here.' I stood up too. 'Thanks, Lippillus. You've been a great help.'

'Nothing. Sorry about leaving you with the wine. It's good stuff. Better than the Aventine gutrot Mother buys.'

'It's okay.' I made a mental note to send Bathyllus round to his flat with a jar or two. 'Hey. Come round for dinner tonight. We'll finish the jug properly.'

He hesitated. 'I'd like that. But Mother might be a problem.'

Well, he didn't look like a mummy's boy to me, but then there might be family circumstances I didn't know about. Something like Perilla's, even. Still, I owed the guy far too much just to drop him. 'No hassle,' I said. 'Bring your mother with you.'

His face cleared. 'You sure?'

'Sure I'm sure.' I walked him to the gate in the wall. 'I'll even send a litter.'

'Okay. That would be great. Thanks.'

'You eat fish?'

'I eat anything. And so does Mother.'

'Good.' I opened the gate that gave out directly onto the street. 'See you later, then.'

When Lippillus had gone I settled down with my wine cup to think. So I'd been right, and Sejanus was behind this whole business: Tubero's involvement put that beyond doubt. The only question I still couldn't answer was why. Sure, he was following instructions and he had the Wart's backing, but what game was he playing for himself? Not power, that was sure. Sejanus was well enough connected through his mother's family, but he was still practically a nobody and he'd got as high as anyone outwith the imperial family itself could go. He was sole commander of the Praetorians, which was one of the empire's top jobs, and if the rumours in the Market Square were right he all but led the emperor by the nose already. And, as Cotta had said, he'd squirrelled a whole pack of his relatives into the government system. So power was out: he'd got it already, or as much as he could hope for. Money, too; that came naturally with power. Security? Tiberius was pretty constant in his likes and dislikes, and although they determined how he treated people he was fair, and he judged by the evidence. Despite his kinship with Germanicus the Wart hadn't liked the guy, and he positively loathed Agrippina. If either of them had tried to slag off Sejanus for some kind of double dealing, real or imaginary, he'd've listened, sure, but he wouldn't've bent over backwards to believe them without firm proof. Unless, of course, that was it: Germanicus had had the proof, and he'd threatened to pull the carpet from under Sejanus while his own plots matured. And Regulus had somehow got hold of the secret. Whatever the hell it was.

I shook my head. No. As a theory it was too complicated, and I could never prove it anyway. Not now, not without a lot more digging, and after Tiberius's warning I couldn't risk that. I'd just have to wait and see if anything turned up. Or, of course, drop the whole thing down the nearest manhole and take up wood-turning…

Just then Perilla came out. She had my mother with her. Mother swept over in a cloud of perfume, kissed me, and planted a covered casserole on the table.

'Marcus, dear,' she said, 'I'm dreadfully sorry. We've been away and I've only just heard. How are you, darling?' I could see she'd noticed the wine. 'I've brought you some soup. Barley with rocket. Much better for you than that nonsense.'

Barley with rocket. Oh, hell. I tried a grin, but it didn't come off: mothers are all the same, and you never quite get rid of them.

Maybe Lippillus wasn't such a rarity after all.

Perilla was smiling all over her face — she has a sadistic streak a mile wide — but she didn't comment. Instead she said: 'Has Flavonius Lippillus gone, then, Marcus?'

'Yeah. I let him out the back. I think he had another monkey to deliver. Or maybe it was a tame snake this time. Anyway, he's coming to dinner tonight. With his mother.'

'Oh, really?' Nothing fazes Perilla. I could've said the guy was bringing six pigmy jugglers and a tame baboon and she would've said the same. I just hoped the baboon wasn't too near the truth, but from the sound of things it just might be. 'That's nice. I liked him.'

Bathyllus came out with an extra chair. Mother sat carefully and arranged her mantle in perfect folds. 'Perilla didn't explain what happened to you, Marcus,' she said. 'Not exactly. An accident with a kitchen knife, so I understand.'

'Uh, yeah.' Jupiter, I'd strangle that lady when I got her alone! Or maybe force-feed her the barley and rocket soup, which would come to the same thing. 'I was…ah…sharpening it.'

Mother stared at me. 'But what on earth were you doing that for, dear? I'm sure Meton is perfectly capable of sharpening a knife. Oh, Bathyllus.' The little guy was hovering. 'Yes. Some fruit juice, please. Apple, I think, with just a twist of wormwood.'

'And for me, Bathyllus,' Perilla said. She hadn't tried that one.

'Bring one for Marcus too.' Mother's voice was firm. 'And take that wine jug away.'

Bathyllus gave me a look. I think one eyebrow was raised in sympathy but I wouldn't swear to it.