Allan Massie - Nero_s Heirs

Domitian's discontent was obvious, but he was powerless to change his uncle's mind; and, though I agreed with his judgement, yet I could not but be pleased to see Flavius Sabinus constant in his determination to do all he could to avert an outbreak of violence and killing in Rome. But his efforts were vain. Some of our men came under attack from the adherents of Vitellius, who were more numerous, and so scattered ours, killing several. It was clear that the chance of a peaceful settlement was now remote. Accordingly, Flavius Sabinus gathered his troops and followers, and we withdrew to the Capitol, as the part of the city most easily defended.

Night fell, and there was no attack. But apprehension held us fast. It snowed, and the visibility was so poor that we were afraid that the enemy might come upon us unawares. But the storm which made us anxious, for the snow was accompanied by high winds, deterred them. No doubt their commanders, in as much as there was any direction of their forces, feared that to attack in such conditions would result only in confusion.

Flavius Sabinus had no sleep. Nor had any of those among us who could be said to have constituted his staff. All night we debated our position, interrupted only by reports from the sentries who had been posted, and who more then once gave the alarm which indicated that an attack was being prepared, evidence of their own nervous state and of the difficulty in discerning what was happening, on account of the snow which fell steadily till just before dawn.

Flavius Sabinus resolved to make a last appeal to Vitellius which might avert hostilities. His letter went through more than a few drafts. Eventually, it read more or less as follows. (You will understand, Tacitus, that I quote from memory, but, since I was one of the chief authors of the final draft, you may suppose that I remember it well.)

'Vitellius: there has, it would seem, been no more than a show and pretence of abdicating the Empire. If not, why, when you left the rostra, did you go (as we are informed) to your brother's house, which overlooks the Forum, and where your presence was certain to enflame the mob, rather than retire to your wife's family house on the Aventine? That would have been in accordance with the terms of our agreement. But then you withdrew to the palace, and soon after a body of troops appeared on the streets, armed and proclaiming their loyalty to you. I myself, in the person of my soldiers, came under attack. That is why I have now established myself on the Capitol, which is however surrounded by your men. If you now repent of your agreement, it is not against me, whom you have so treacherously deceived, that you must contend, nor against my nephew Domitian, who is still only a youth. What would you gain by killing us? Rather, you should put yourself at the head of your legions, and fight my brother's army for the Empire. That would determine the fate of Rome.'

A senior centurion, Cornelius Martialis, was deputed to carry the letter to Vitellius. I volunteered to accompany him. He smiled at that. 'Shows you're young, sir, if you don't mind my saying so. When you're my age, you'll know that volunteering's best left to others.' Still he was pleased to have my company, and respected the courage of my decision.

Taking advantage of the half-light of the winter dawn and a renewed flurry of snow, we slipped out of the Capitol by the hundred steps that lead down the flank of the Tarpeian Rock. Our outposts had seen no sign of enemy forces for several hours, but could give no assurance as to our safe return. As we made our way off the hill, using such shelter as the trees and bushes could provide, we could see soldiers crouched round braziers or lying by them wrapped in their military cloaks. 'Dozy buggers,' Cornelius said. 'But not many'll be eager to die for Vitellius, that's a comfort.' We crossed the Forum, and made for the Palatine.

We're too early. Vitellius'll never be up yet. We've time for a wet and a bite to eat.'

Though I doubted whether Vitellius would even have gone to bed, and was certain he would not have slept, I allowed myself to be persuaded, and we turned into a wine-shop – of the kind that serves night-workers – for a mug of wine and a hunk of bread, 'to put heart into us'.

Approaching the palace, I was conscious of the extent to which Vitellius' control of the State was ebbing. Though a number of soldiers were to be seen, it was impossible to tell whether they were on duty. There was no regular guard, only a doorkeeper who was half-drunk. When we offered to present our credentials, he gave a vast yawn, and thumbed us past him. In the atrium all was confusion. People were hurrying to and fro, but more as if they thought it wiser to be seen to be on the move, than for any purpose. Four slaves passed by us; they were carrying trunks out of the palace. There appeared to be nobody in charge or on duty. Then I recognised a stout soft wheezy fellow with an olive complexion; this was Asiaticus, the former slave, catamite, and pimp. I called out his name, and he responded in a manner that contrived to be both obsequious and insolent.

'The Emperor? I'm not sure he knows whether he's that or not, poor dear man. You've a message for him? You want to see him? Well, much good may it do you, ducky.'

Cornelius Martialis drew his sword and jabbed it under the creature's jaw. A little gout of blood stood out on his neck. 'Take us to him, or I'll ram this through your throat.' Asiaticus put up his hand and pushed the blade aside.

'Not very diplomatic, are you, ducks. 'Course I'll take you to the poor man. Just don't expect too much.'

Vitellius was in his dressing-gown. Asiaticus greeted him with a repulsive familiarity, which brought a smile to the pseudo-emperor's flabby lips. Cornelius presented him with Flavius Sabinus' letter. He read it, or rather let his eyes wander over it, and then tossed it aside.

'Have you no answer?' the centurion demanded. 'Am I to tell the general you received his letter with contempt?'

'The question is, sir,' I said, 'whether you intend to stand by the agreement that you made, an agreement that ensures your own safety and well-being as nothing else can, or whether you have torn it up, and choose to trust to the fortunes of a war you cannot win, which will bring ruin on all your family.'

Vitellius dabbed his eyes with a towel, blew his nose, and gestured to Asiaticus who, knowing his master's habits, at once put a mug of wine in the outstretched hand. Vitellius, in the manner of drunkards, drained it at one swallow, and then said, 'This is all foolishness. Whatever I say now doesn't matter. I know that. Tell your general that I would abide by our compact if I could. I had every intent, every intention, of doing so. But the soldiers would not let me, and I could not resist them. They chose me as Emperor, they have chosen that I cannot abandon the title, though I'm aware that everything is now futility. Tell your general that, and that you have seen a deeply unhappy man, whom the world has treated harshly.'

Then he dismissed us, telling Asiaticus to lead us out of the palace by a secret passage, which would enable us to avoid the soldiers, for, he said, 'I've no wish to have your blood too on my hands.'

'You see, sir, he's finished, and he knows it,' Asiaticus said. 'You'll be safe now. Perhaps you will remember that I have done you a service.'

'Oh,' I said, 'I doubt if that will be necessary. You're the type who will survive anything, and I can't imagine you haven't already made your preparations. Indeed, I'm only surprised to find you still here.' He laid his hand, his fawning hand, on my sleeve.

You're so certain a chap like me can't have any decent feelings, aren't you, any sense of duty, or any affection? Well, you're young, ducky, you can't be expected to know much. But that poor dear man has been my only benefactor, and now I'm the only person he can be himself with. It wouldn't be right if I was to run out on him. But I can't expect you to believe that.'