Robert Fabbri: Rome's lost son

‘I have made my decision,’ he eventually announced. ‘This golden age shall have peace and I shall soon be able to close the doors of the Temple of Janus. But before that happens we shall have war!’ He stood with one hand in the air and the other on his hip, the soldierly image of a general addressing his troops, and the crowd roared their approval. He silenced them with a swipe of his raised hand. ‘I shall prosecute this war in a firm and positive way and not in the haphazard, half-hearted manner of my father, who despite his many qualities could not be considered martial.’ As the crowd cheered their agreement to this point Nero signalled to Burrus to hand him up his sword. Nero held it aloft. ‘I will give Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo, our most competent general in the East, full powers to resolve the Armenian question and beat the Parthians back to their homeland. He shall report only to me and shall have the benefit of my advice.

‘And so I shall deal with our external problems, safeguarding the sanctity of Rome’s borders; but whilst doing this I shall also address an internal infestation: I have been told that there were a few, this morning, who refused to take their oath to me, your Emperor. These people, I have been informed by Lucius Annaeus Seneca, do not acknowledge me as the supreme authority in the Empire but, rather, some crucified criminal called Chrestus. Find them for me, people of Rome; root them out and bring them to me for judgement and sentence. Together, my people, together we shall fight our enemies within as well as without and together we shall be victorious.’

Vespasian looked at Gaius as the people screamed their love for their Golden Emperor; he smiled. ‘Now he’s united them with common enemies both here and abroad, Uncle. He’ll secure his position and then we shall see how he handles absolute power.’

‘I’m sure we will, dear boy; let us pray to the gods of our houses that we don’t get to see too closely.’

‘I’ve found it!’ Caenis said, handing an unrolled scroll across the garden table to Vespasian. ‘It’s all there: the clause, the amount of the bequest and then the original valuation of Paelignus’ father’s estate as registered in the will at the House of the Vestals. It specifies its actual size in terms of land, goods, chattels and cash. Narcissus must have had this stolen.’

‘Or paid the Vestals for it.’ Vespasian read through the scroll, smoke from the bonfire occasionally wisping into his eyes. ‘But this doesn’t tell us how much was paid to the imperial treasury.’

‘It doesn’t need to. All bequests made are logged and filed at the treasury; you just have to get Pallas to cross-check what was received from Paelignus against what’s in that record.’

Vespasian looked at the valuations, did some mental arithmetic and then whistled. ‘I make the total value about twenty million denarii, which means that Claudius should have got ten but only received a quarter of that. Paelignus swindled the Emperor out of seven and a half million. That’ll do nicely.’ He slapped the scroll down on the table.

Caenis pointed to the rest of Narcissus’ records that they still had not read through. ‘Do you want to carry on looking through?’

Vespasian glanced at them and then across at the bonfire consuming the rest. ‘Burn them, my love. I’ve got what I need on Paelignus and we’ve got a few other useful things too. If we keep too much, it might become apparent to somebody just exactly what Narcissus did with his records.’

Caenis signalled to her steward to carry on feeding the fire. ‘How are you going to explain to Pallas how you come to have an original valuation that had been lodged with the Vestals?’

‘I won’t; and I also won’t be giving it to Pallas, as it would seem to me that his time is coming to an end. I’ll use this to buy favour with Seneca. For this he’ll be more than happy to get Nero to grant Malichus his citizenship and then, I imagine, he’ll come to an arrangement with Paelignus that he pays the balance of what he owes to him in return for his silence on the matter.’

‘I thought you wanted him dead.’

‘I do, but it might be amusing to ruin him first; see how he likes a couple of years with nothing, just as I had.’ He got to his feet, smiling at the thought. ‘Have your people pack your bags, my love; we’ll leave for my Cosa estate tomorrow after I’ve seen Seneca.’

‘I got back to Rome just before the Ides of October,’ Vespasian said without any preamble as Hormus showed Laelius into the tablinum, ‘and here we are two days before the Ides of February. Why has it taken four months for you to come and pay your respects to me, Laelius?’

Laelius stood before the desk, looking uncomfortable and sweating slightly despite the chill of a February dawn. He rubbed his hand over his now completely bald pate and essayed an ingratiating smile. ‘I have only just heard of your return, patronus, as I’ve been away on business.’ He spread his hands and shrugged as if it were unavoidable.

‘For four months over the winter, Laelius? Bollocks! You’ve been in the city and I know it.’

‘But you were touring your estates.’

‘Ah! In order to know that you must have been here. Anyway, I got back from my tour in the New Year. I’ll tell you why it’s taken four months to visit me: it’s because, with the bad winter they’ve been having in Moesia, it’s taken four months for my letter to get to my brother and then for the news to get back to you that he’s cancelled your chickpea contract and dismissed your son in disgrace. Is that nearer the mark, Laelius?’

Laelius cringed and twisted his hands.

‘And all the time that I was away you didn’t pay me the twelve per cent that you promised me from your business even though I kept my part of the bargain and had your equestrian status restored and got your son a post as a military tribune.’

Laelius hung his head. ‘I’m sorry, patronus; I believed you to be dead. I’ll pay you everything I owe and raise your percentage to fifteen if you can have your brother restore the contract to me.’

Vespasian turned to Hormus. ‘Is Magnus still here?’

‘Yes, master.’

‘Ask him to come and join us.’

As Hormus left the room Vespasian gave Laelius a friendlier smile. ‘It’s not the contract or the money that you owe me that I wish to discuss at the moment.’

‘What do you want, patronus?’

‘How many people do you call patronus, Laelius?’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Don’t you?’ Vespasian mused as Hormus came back in with Magnus. ‘Magnus, Laelius is having trouble understanding me; would you help him to focus his attention?’

‘My pleasure, sir.’ Magnus grabbed Laelius’ right arm and pulled it high behind his back.

‘Have I got your full attention now, Laelius?’

Magnus forced the arm up a bit more and Laelius nodded vigorously, grimacing with pain.

‘Good. Now, the last time I saw you I granted you a favour, did I not?’

Another vigorous nod.

‘And yet once that favour was done you took the earliest opportunity to cultivate a new patron. What was his name, Laelius?’ Vespasian raised his eyebrows at Magnus who applied even more pressure.

‘Corvinus!’

‘Corvinus,’ Vespasian repeated in a reasonable tone; he was enjoying this. ‘And for how long have your been courting Corvinus?’

‘I don’t understand, patronus!’

Vespasian’s eyes hardened and he pointed at Laelius’ shoulder. Magnus grabbed it and twisted Laelius’ arm further up his back; there was a loud tearing sound and a pop. Laelius screamed.

‘Would you like Magnus to dislocate the other one for you?’ Vespasian asked pleasantly. ‘And he will, if you don’t tell me just for how long you’ve been in Corvinus’ pay.’