Robert Fabbri: Rome's executioner

‘We should be able to move in very soon,’ Sabinus replied. ‘The sooner the better, in fact, as Clementina is pregnant again.’

‘Congratulations.’

‘Thank you, brother. I want her to be settled as soon as possible; you know how stressed women get when they move house.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Vespasian lied.

‘I’ve been waiting for things to quieten down, though. Now that the Senate is finally meeting again today we should see a degree of law and order return.’

‘I certainly hope so,’ Vespasian replied, thinking of the violence that had recently engulfed the city.

For two days and nights Macro had allowed his men to loot and pillage Rome, before recalling them to their camp outside the city’s walls, leaving its citizens poorer and subdued but in no doubt as to who was the real power within the city.

It had taken half a dozen more days for life to get back to normal, although there had been sporadic outbursts of violence, aimed mainly at Sejanus’ supporters, whether real or imaginary. After a few more days the Senate had managed to reconvene, most of the senators having fled Rome for the safety of their country estates during the Praetorian Guard’s occupation of the city.

‘Did you get on the list of prospective quaestors for next year?’ Vespasian asked, changing the subject; he had only enquired after Sabinus’ new house out of politeness and was still in fact deeply disapproving of the way that his brother was financing it.

‘Yes, I did,’ Sabinus replied gloomily, ‘but there seems to be a candidate from every patrician family on it this time. Plebeians like us don’t stand a chance. I’ve a nasty feeling that I’m going to fail for a third time.’

They were interrupted by Gaius bursting into the garden accompanied by Aenor, who was trying to relieve him of his toga.

‘I sometimes think that my fellow senators are a bunch of brainless sheep,’ he boomed furiously. ‘Aenor, bring me a cup.’

The young German boy scurried off; Gaius plonked his ample behind down on a bench next to Sabinus and reached for a calming honeyed cake.

The brothers waited whilst their uncle devoured the tasty morsel and was served a cup of unwatered wine.

‘The idiots were debating whether to censure Macro for letting the Guard loose in the city,’ Gaius continued, thumping his half-empty cup down on the table and spilling a lot of its contents, ‘when Aulus Plautius stands up and says that rather than censuring Macro, we should be praising him for managing to restore order in such a short period of time. Short period of time, my flabby arse! Two days we were barricaded in here with murder and mayhem going on out in the streets.’ He swilled down the remainder of his wine and held his cup out for Aenor to refill whilst reaching for another cake. ‘So he proposes a motion that Macro should be voted the rank of an ex-praetor even though he is not a member of the Senate, which everybody jumps at as being an excellent idea; the house then divides and the motion is carried unanimously.’

‘Unanimously, Uncle?’ Vespasian queried as Gaius took a large bite of his cake. ‘Didn’t you vote against it seeing as it’s so infuriated you?’

‘Of course not,’ Gaius replied testily, spraying crumbs all over the table. ‘I didn’t want to be seen as the only person opposing it — that would hardly have been wise!’

‘If everyone thinks like that then it’s no surprise if the Senate votes for outrageous motions.’

‘Well, that wasn’t the most outrageous motion today,’ Gaius said. ‘I’m afraid the retribution has started and, in order to deflect attention away from himself, it’s being led by Aulus Plautius. He had three of Sejanus’ closest supporters in the Senate condemned to be thrown from the Tarpeian Rock, and as if that wasn’t bad enough he had them dragged up there immediately and threw them off personally. I’m afraid that you are going to be quite busy over the next few days, dear boy.’

Five days later Vespasian stood on the steps of the Senate House, in the warm mid-morning sun, awaiting the latest senatorial decree in the ongoing purge of Sejanus’ supporters. He and his fellow triumviri capitales had indeed been busy, as Gaius had predicted; in the last couple of days they had overseen half a dozen beheadings, four garrottings and one more unfortunate senator being hurled from the Tarpeian Rock. Over a dozen more had managed tocommit suicide before the executioners had got their hands on them, thus preventing their estates from being seized as well. None, however, had had the benefit of a proper trial in the Forum; their executions had been sanctioned by an executive order from the Senate at either the written request of the Emperor or after a motion put to the house by Aulus Plautius.

That morning another long letter from Tiberius had been read out by Regulus; Vespasian had not bothered listening at the Senate House’s open doors as he was bored with the frequent diatribes against Sejanus’ supporters with which Tiberius had been haranguing the Senate.

The noise of the ongoing debate floating out of the doors subsided and Vespasian guessed that the House was dividing. He smiled to himself at the use of that word; during the recent debates the Senate had never been divided, it had always voted unanimously for death. There were a few moments of silence then he heard Regulus pronounce the motion carried and a huge roar of agreement from the Senate.

Vespasian braced himself ready to do his duty and wondered which hapless senator Paetus would be escorting out to him and what form of execution had been decreed. To his shock and consternation Paetus came rushing out with Gaius.

‘Surely not you, Uncle?’ he called, running up the steps to meet them. How could he possibly oversee his own uncle’s execution?

‘What?’ Gaius replied momentarily confused. ‘Oh! No, dear boy, not me,’ he laughed. ‘Tiberius has just snared his biggest prey yet: Livilla.’

‘Livilla? How?’

‘The Emperor’s had proven what most people have long suspected: that Livilla poisoned her own husband, Tiberius’ son Drusus, to clear the way for Sejanus to marry her. Her physician and one of Drusus’ body slaves, who are both freedmen now, were tracked down and confirmed it under torture. I’ve been charged by the Senate to inform the Lady Antonia of her daughter’s sentence. I can’t say that I’m looking forward to the conversation.’

‘I’ve got to oversee the execution of a woman?’ Vespasian asked, not liking the idea in the slightest despite Livilla’s bloodthirsty reputation.

‘No, no, old chap, the Senate hasn’t pronounced a sentence,’ Paetus informed him cheerily, ‘you and I have just got to secure her. Out of respect for Antonia, Tiberius asked that Livilla be handed over to her; he felt it proper for the mother of the woman who murdered his son to decide the manner of her daughter’s punishment. Personally, I think that he’s been too lenient; what mother would order the execution of her own child?’

Four centuries of the Urban Cohort had surrounded Livilla’s property on the Palatine to prevent her escape, although as far as Vespasian knew news of the Senate’s decision had not yet come to her ears. He and Paetus walked up the grand set of steps leading to her front door accompanied by an Urban Cohort centurion; behind them the century that was covering the front of the house formed up. Paetus pulled a chain and a bell sounded inside.

The viewing slot opened.

‘Quaestor Publius Junius Caesennius Paetus, here to see the Lady Livilla at the request of the Emperor and the Senate,’ he said slowly and clearly.

The slot closed but the door remained shut.

‘It seems that the good lady is not too keen on seeing us,’ Paetus observed after a few moments. ‘Can’t say that I blame her. Centurion, break it down.’