Robert Fabbri - Tribune of Rome

‘A great shame,’ Pomponius mused, noticing a disturbance close to the platform. Four of Asinius’ lictors had pushed their way from the gates, through the mob, to the rostrum and were now helping him on to the platform. Dressed in the purple-bordered toga of a proconsul, he approached Poppaeus and embraced him. From where Vespasian sat he could see that Poppaeus’ face had set into a fixed smile as he was forced to return the embrace of his enemy. Asinius released himself from the embrace and lifted Poppaeus’ right hand. The chanting broke into a mighty cheer. He then stepped forward, his palms facing the crowd in a gesture that demanded silence. The noise died down. He drew himself up to speak.

‘Soldiers of Rome.’ His voice rang out through the cool dawn air. ‘Some of you know me, but for those who don’t, I am Marcus Asinius Agrippa.’ A few ragged cheers greeted him. ‘I come here with a message from your Emperor and Senate for you and your glorious general. A message so important that it was deemed that only a man of consular rank should bear it.’

This was greeted by more enthusiastic cheers. Poppaeus’ expression hardened as he realised that he had been outmanoeuvred. Asinius waited for silence before continuing.

‘Your general’s efforts have been justly recognised. The Senate has voted him triumphal honours and the Emperor has been pleased to confirm this award to his remarkable and trusted servant.’ His voice betrayed no hint of the irony in his words.

The roars of approval for this echoed around the field. Asinius caught Pomponius’ eye and motioned him forward. Vespasian followed, forcing his mount through the heaving mass of legionaries to the base of the rostrum.

Asinius gestured for silence again.

‘General Poppaeus is required to leave for Rome at once to receive his just reward for his faithful service.’ Asinius turned and smiled at Poppaeus, who stood transfixed with anger but impotent as Asinius worked the crowd. ‘But the Emperor has replaced him with a good man, a brave man, a man many of you know. Soldiers of Rome: the Emperor gives you Pomponius Labeo.’

Pomponius was lifted from his horse by the men of his legion and helped, with some difficulty, on to the rostrum. He embraced Poppaeus, who remained helplessly rooted to the spot as his moment of glory was hijacked. Pomponius turned to the crowd, which once again fell silent.

‘Poppaeus has today won a great victory and his reward is indeed just. I shall do my utmost to lead you as well as he has done. He can return to Rome in the knowledge that his men are in good hands. I shall make sure that your cries of “Imperator” will follow him. They will echo around the Senate in tribute to his deeds here today. No one in Rome will be unaware of how you, brave soldiers of Rome, have honoured him. This I swear by Mars Victorious.’

As the cheering broke out again Vespasian could see a shadow pass over Poppaeus’ face as he realised that he had gone too far in accepting the accolade that was now reserved only for members of the imperial family.

Asinius joined Pomponius at the front of the rostrum and again asked for silence.

‘Soldiers of Rome, your parts in this victory have not gone unnoticed, neither will they be unrewarded.’

As he spoke, Magnus and the other seven lictors pushed their way to the rostrum and lifted on to it two heavy chests. Vespasian recognised them as being larger than, but otherwise very similar to, the one he had seen at the Caenii’s camp.

With a dramatic flourish Asinius threw the lids open, to reveal them full to the brim with silver coins. The colour drained from Poppaeus’ face and his mouth opened and closed in a vain effort to say something that would stop the nightmare.

‘The Emperor and Senate have decreed,’ Asinius continued smoothly, enjoying his enemy’s mortification, ‘that, in recognition of your valour in defeating the Thracian revolt, a bounty should be paid from the imperial treasury to every legionary and auxiliary.’

At this news the cheers of the men erupted into a cacophony that outdid all their previous efforts. Vespasian kicked his horse through the crowd until he reached Magnus.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ he asked, dismounting.

Magnus grinned. ‘If you think that it’s my life’s savings, then you’d be wrong, but if you think that it’s Poppaeus’ other two chests, then you’d be right.’

‘Where did you find them?’

‘They were just sitting there, in Poppaeus’ quarters, when I broke in to get the letters. It seemed such a waste leaving them, so I nipped back to Asinius who kindly lent me a few of his lictors to help liberate them – though not before I helped myself to a couple of bagfuls to cover our travelling expenses, if you take my meaning?’

‘I think I do.’ Vespasian laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

Asinius had started to speak again. ‘My duty here is done and I shall now resume my journey to my province. It has been an honour to bring you your Emperor’s reward. I am sure that General Poppaeus will wish to distribute it immediately, before he returns to Rome. Centurions, fall your men in here, on this field of victory, and they will all return to camp richer. Hail Caesar.’

As he moved to the edge of the rostrum, where Vespasian and Magnus waited to help him down, Poppaeus caught him by the arm and looked at him with an expression of unbridled hatred.

‘You will pay dearly for this,’ he hissed.

‘My dear Poppaeus,’ Asinius replied smugly, ‘whatever do you mean? I have the distinct impression that you are the one who is paying dearly.’

Walking back to the camp Asinius was in a fine mood. His lictors cleared the way through the thousands of troops hurrying to form up as fast as was possible on the corpse-strewn field into their centuries and cohorts, in order to receive the promised largesse. They cheered him as he passed and he waved back, all the while talking animatedly with Vespasian and Magnus.

‘Your man did a commendable job last night, Vespasian,’ he said, slapping Magnus on the back. ‘Not only getting the letters, but also stealing Poppaeus’ war chests; that was a coup that I hadn’t dreamt of. It made Poppaeus’ rout complete. I trust that he is not distributing the full contents of the chests?’

‘No, sir,’ Magnus replied. ‘A small percentage was deducted for expenses.’

‘Very good, you deserve it; I have to admit to helping myself to a few handfuls to distribute to my lictors.’

‘What of the letters, Asinius?’ Vespasian asked.

‘Magnus managed to get a half a dozen letters that implicate Poppaeus and Sejanus in this Thracian affair. I despatched Rhoemetalces with three of them before dawn, he should be well on his way to Philippopolis by now. From there Queen Tryphaena will send them to Antonia, who will add them to the growing collection of evidence that we shall lay before Tiberius when the time is right. I think that, in the meantime, the other three will prove to be enough of a deterrent to prevent Poppaeus and Sejanus from hauling me up in front of the Senate on treason charges.’ He patted a leather pouch that hung around neck.

‘What are you going to do with that priest, then?’

‘Oh, I think that I’m going to give him back to Poppaeus as a little going-away present,’ Asinius chuckled. ‘I reckon they deserve each other, don’t you?’

‘I think Poppaeus will judge that he’s too dangerous to keep alive.’

‘I do hope that you’re right.’

They had reached Asinius’ tent and he stopped to bid them goodbye.

‘I shall be leaving immediately. I have no wish to be here when Poppaeus returns and finds that his letters are missing, and much less to find myself as his travelling companion when he leaves later on today. If you take my advice, Vespasian, you should make yourself scarce until he’s gone and Pomponius is fully in command.’