Robert Fabbri: The Racing Factions

‘I am honoured, Consul, thank you.’

‘No, it is I who should be thanking you; what can I do for you?’

Gaius broke into a moist-lipped smile. ‘Well, there is the small matter of the quaestor elections coming up soon.’

‘Ah yes, such a wide field, so many worthy candidates; it’s difficult to choose.’

‘Indeed, Consul; but I feel that my nephew, Titus Flavius Sabinus, would be an admirable choice.’

‘I think that you may well be right, senator, I was thinking of backing him myself.’

‘It may interest you to know that Ignatius took a bet off me for two hundred aurei in the second-to-last race.’

‘Did he now? Were you lucky enough to have the foresight to bet on a Red one-two-three?’

‘Like you, I was divinely inspired. I only won a trifling amount, two hundred and fifty thousand denarii, but perhaps, as you strip Ignatius of his assets, you would care to keep it as an aid to your memory?’

Ahenobarbus clapped Gaius on the shoulder. ‘The name Titus Flavius Sabinus will be firmly fixed in my mind; in fact, I’ll practise saying it every time the subject of the quaestor elections comes up. Good day, senator.’ With a brief nod to Magnus he rejoined his lictors.

Gaius looked at Magnus with delight. ‘Promissory notes for a quarter of a million denarii that I can use as a bribe for supporting Vespasian in next year’s quaestor elections and the Senior Consul supporting Sabinus in this year’s; that should do it.’

Magnus pictured his own considerable winnings; his eyes narrowed in cold satisfaction and a grim smile creased his lips as he watched Ignatius, shoulders slumped, disappear into the crowd at the mercy of Ahenobarbus. ‘Yes indeed, senator; that should do it very nicely.’