Vespasian marvelled at the vision of the man who had caused all this to be built out of nothing: Alexander the Great, whose breastplate he had come to take back to Rome for the Emperor who thought he had surpassed him. Looking at this majestic city, just one of the many that Alexander had founded in the huge Empire that he had conquered, he realised the depths of Caligula’s delusion: the greatest feat to be achieved by man had already been realised. No one would ever surpass Alexander — not even Julius Caesar or Augustus had come close to what he had accomplished in his short life. The best that anyone could hope for now was to be a pale shadow of the man whose legacy, or at least part of it, lay in front of Vespasian, bathing in the hot summer sun where, before Alexander’s coming, there had been only a small fishing village perched on baking sands.
The trireme glided towards the dock; an order was bellowed and the larboard oars were shipped. The starboard oars backed water gently and with a soft thud and much shouting of sailors and dockers the ship’s side came to rest against the thick wooden poles protecting the stone jetty. Lines were made fast, the foresail was furled and the gangplank lowered; the voyage was at an end.
Having confirmed with the triarchus the arrangement that the ship should wait for however long it took to complete the Emperor’s business, Vespasian led Magnus and Ziri down the gangplank towards the port aedile waiting with sixteen legionaries and an optio of the Legio XXII Deiotariana on the jetty. The solid construction seemed to rock under Vespasian’s feet after ten days at sea; he swayed slightly and felt Magnus’ hand support his elbow.
‘Easy, sir; we can’t have a senator falling flat on his back in public like a vestal the moment she’s completed her thirty-year vow.’
‘Yes, thank you for reminding me, Magnus,’ Vespasian replied testily, steadying himself for a few moments before handing his imperial warrant to the aedile. ‘Senator Titus Flavius Vespasianus here on the Emperor’s authority.’
The aedile read the document carefully then glanced up at the imperial banner fluttering on the masthead and raised his eyebrows. ‘That seems to be in order, senator. It’s four years since we’ve had a member of your order here; the previous Emperor banned you on the advice of his astrologer.’ He paused for a wry chuckle. ‘And arriving on one of the Emperor’s personal ships no less; what can I do for you?’
‘I wish to see the prefect immediately on imperial business.’
The aedile nodded and turned to the optio. ‘Hortensius, escort the senator to the Royal Palace and then stay with him for the duration of his visit to provide him with any assistance that he needs.’
Vespasian muttered his thanks while suspecting that he had just been put under military guard.
‘That is completely out of the question,’ Prefect Aulus Avilius Flaccus informed Vespasian, having been apprised of Caligula’s wishes. ‘If the breastplate were to be removed, the whole of the city’s Greek population, which is by far the largest section, would rise up in outrage. They worship Alexander and any sacrilege by us to his mausoleum would be seen as a declaration of war. Caligula’s edict about putting his statue into all temples has already got the Jews up in arms, and I can’t give the Jews a short, sharp shock and deal with the Greeks at the same time.’ His firm-jawed, suntanned face set rigid and his dark eyes stared at Vespasian from underneath silvering brows, defying him to argue. Through the window behind him the expanse of the Great Harbour glistened in the late afternoon light. A gentle sea breeze blew in, cooling the chamber that Cleopatra, Julius Caesar and Marcus Antonius had all held audiences in.
‘But it’s Caligula’s wish.’
‘Then the little shit should wish for something else.’
Vespasian was taken aback by this open insult to the Emperor by one of his Governors. ‘You can’t talk about the Emperor in those terms, especially not in front of a senator.’
‘And who’s going to tell him? You? Well, go ahead, I don’t give a fuck.’
Vespasian drew himself up. ‘As a member of the Senate I outrank you, so I demand that you give me the breastplate.’
‘You may be a senator and I only a mere equestrian but here in Egypt I rule, and I’m telling you that unless the Emperor wants Rome’s grain supply cut off for the rest of the summer while I put down two rebellions, he can ride across his pathetic bridge wearing something else. And you can tell him I said so.’
‘He’ll have you replaced, brought back to Rome and executed.’
‘He was replacing me, with Macro, but when he ordered him to kill himself he decided to reconfirm me in my appointment. I was hoping when I saw you that you were bringing my imperial mandate but that seems to have slipped the Emperor’s mind; but no matter, I’m sure that it will arrive soon. But even if he does change his mind and decides to recall me I won’t be going back to Rome. We may be a thousand miles away but I’ve still heard the stories. Caligula’s mad, he even had his cousin executed for coughing; there’s no way I’m going to set foot in Rome while he’s emperor.’
‘You can’t stay here, surely?’
‘Of course I wouldn’t, the world is a big place and being prefect of Egypt is a very lucrative position; I have the money to go anywhere.’
Vespasian was about to contest the point but then thought better of it and decided to change the subject. ‘I have some personal business to attend to that will take a few days and would appreciate being accommodated during that time.’
Flaccus smiled in a conciliatory manner. ‘In that matter at least I can be of service, senator. I will have a suite of rooms placed at your disposal; you’ll find it very spacious here. I hope that you will dine with me this evening; my wife and I have a few other guests.’
‘Thank you, prefect, I’d be delighted,’ Vespasian replied less than truthfully but disinclined to upset the man who seemed so secure in his province that he could defy an emperor.
‘Is there anything else?’
‘Yes, where can I find Thales the banker and also the Alabarch?’
Flaccus’ face clouded over. ‘Thales is in the Forum every day from dawn and the Alabarch lives next to the Jewish temple by the Canopic Gate, but why do you want to see him?’
Vespasian briefly explained about getting his father’s late freedman Ataphanes’ gold back to his family in Parthia.
‘Well, you can trust him to do that, provided he gets his percentage,’ Flaccus said.’Dishonesty is the one charge I would never level against him; but he’s a wily politician — don’t allow him to use you for his own ends. The Jews have been making a lot of demands recently: full Alexandrian citizenship, the right to live outside the Jewish Quarter and the removal of the Emperor’s statues from their temples to name a few; he’ll get you involved if he can. Now, you’ll have to excuse me as I have someone waiting to see me whom I hope will be a great help in dealing with those Jews.’ Flaccus smiled coldly before walking Vespasian to the door. ‘I shall see you at dinner, senator. If you wish to go out I’ve ordered your escort to accompany you everywhere. They will be waiting for you at the gate; it’s the only way in or out of the palace.’