From the steps of the Curia, Vespasian and the rest of the Senate watched Caligula progress onto the Capitoline, dismount and then descend the Gemonian Stairs past the Temple of Concordia and stop before the Volcanal, the sacred precinct to Vulcan, and one of the oldest shrines in Rome. Here, before the altar, shaded by a cypress tree, there waited a red calf and a red boar ready to be sacrificed to the god whose festival it was that day.
‘Having made his peace with Neptune I suppose that our Emperor is now ensuring that Vulcan doesn’t burn the city down in his absence,’ Vespasian observed as the sacrificial knife flashed in Caligula’s hand despatching the calf.
‘Or send fire out from his smithy under Vesuvius to burn his bridge,’ Sabinus muttered.
‘Wrong mountain, dear boy,’ Gaius corrected him as the boar collapsed spurting blood. ‘Vulcan lives under Etna in Sicilia. Anyway, he only does that every time his wife, Venus, is unfaithful to him, so if we wanted to avoid an eruption in Sicilia perhaps it’s her that we should be sacrificing to, in order to ensure her good behaviour.’
Vespasian grinned at his uncle and brother. ‘I should certainly offer a sacrifice of thanks to her after Flavia’s behaviour this morning.’
‘You should indeed,’ Gaius agreed.
Sabinus looked confused. ‘Who’s Flavia?’
‘She, dear boy, is the woman whom your brother intends to marry. The same woman who, when Vespasian turned up soon after dawn, having spent the night with Caenis, gave him a kiss and asked if he’d had a pleasant evening before calmly finishing her breakfast and then, having packed, left for her father’s house, with my letter opening the marriage negotiations, and with no more than a warning to your younger brother that he should ensure that he has something left for their wedding night next month.’
Sabinus stared in disbelief at Vespasian who shrugged innocently. ‘She must be a very stupid woman if she didn’t realise that he’d spent the night with someone else.’
‘Oh, she knew all right; in fact, she even met Caenis yesterday evening and explained to her the rules.’
Vespasian was alarmed. ‘The rules, Uncle?’
‘Yes, dear boy, the rules.’
‘What are the rules?’
‘The rules are simple: Flavia has first call on you if she is entertaining, wanting a holiday, needing to discipline children, wishing to take a walk around the city or trying to get pregnant. At any other time Caenis is welcome to have you but not for more than four nights in a row, going down to three once the first child is two and more in need of a regular paternal figure, and then two once it is seven.’
Sabinus guffawed, much to the outrage of the senators nearby; he quickly controlled his face into one more befitting a religious ceremony. ‘It sounds like they’ve parcelled him up very neatly.’
‘Oh, they both knew very well what they wanted. They were icily polite to each other, complementing one another’s hair and trinkets and suchlike, but they came to a peaceful understanding despite their obvious mutual loathing; it was a wonder to behold and confirmed to me the wisdom of my lifestyle.’
Vespasian was indignant. ‘And you let them negotiate about me as if I were a gladiator that they’d both taken a fancy to.’
‘I didn’t let them do anything, dear boy,’ Gaius replied, shrugging his shoulders, ‘it’s nothing to do with me; I just observed. You’re the one who’s insisting on having a complicated domestic arrangement. I just hope that you don’t have to pay too high a price for it, both emotionally and financially.’
A roar from the crowds brought their attention back to the day’s proceedings; the auspices having evidently been declared favourable, Caligula had mounted a quadriga, with Incitatus now installed in his place on the left of the team, and was leaving the Forum followed by the cavalry alae. Cohort by cohort, the Praetorians began to march out after them to the cheers of the crowds.
‘I think that their enthusiasm is less for the spectacle and more for the fact that once Caligula’s driven over his bridge the ships can be used to bring some much needed food to their bellies,’ Gaius observed as they and the rest of the Senate began to follow. ‘Let’s hope that we can get this sorry affair over with quickly.’
Two miles outside the Porta Capena, in a field alongside the Via Appia, the senators’ carriages waited with their wives already installed and being fussed over by slaves in the ever growing heat. The chaos of reuniting over five hundred men with their vehicles lasted for more than an hour and was not helped by Caligula riding his chariot, followed by a turma of grinning Praetorian troopers, up and down the rows of carriages and lashing out with his whip in an effort to speed up the process. Many a mule team bolted, dragging their burdens, with their screaming passengers, over the rough ground to an inevitably calamitous conclusion.
‘I’m over here, sirs,’ Magnus’ voice eventually shouted over the din.
Vespasian, Sabinus and Gaius followed the voice and were relieved to see Magnus in the driving seat of a covered carriage drawn by four sturdy-looking mules; next to him sat Aenor and another young German slave boy. A horse each for Vespasian and Sabinus were tethered to the carriage’s rear.
‘Magnus, gods be praised,’ Gaius shouted back, breaking into a fast waddle, as the two slave boys dismounted to see to their master’s needs. ‘I didn’t think we’d ever find you in this madness.’
As they reached the safety of their carriage Caligula appeared in his chariot, lashing at a group of elderly and bewildered senators running alongside him. ‘Why do the old always slow down the young?’ he bellowed at them, giving the rearmost of his quarry a furious beating on the back, sending him tumbling to the ground with a scream to disappear beneath the hoofs of the following turma. ‘Useless old shit,’ he called out with a grin as he caught sight of Vespasian and Sabinus and brought his chariot to a skilful halt, letting the rest of the senators run on. ‘His family have probably only been in the Senate for a generation or two; no breeding, you see, dulls the memory. He probably couldn’t even remember where his arsehole was; it’s no wonder that he was having such trouble finding his carriage.’
‘I’m sure that you’re right, Divine Gaius,’ Vespasian agreed, not wishing to point out that he too was only a second-generation senator.
Caligula beamed at him. ‘At least you all managed to be ready on time; you’ll join me at the front of the procession as we near the bay. I’m looking forward to seeing the wonder on your faces when you first see my bridge.’ His eyes opened even wider with pleasure. ‘And you Sabinus, I’m especially looking forward to seeing yours; I’ve got a lovely surprise for you.’ With a crack of his whip over his teams’ withers he accelerated away with the turma following, leaving the crumpled and bloody body of the old senator for his family to reclaim.
Gaius shook with suppressed fury. ‘This is going too far; riding down senators and leaving them in the dirt as if they were fleeing savages rather than men who have served Rome all their lives. It’s an outrage!’
‘Uncle,’ Vespasian said, putting a calming hand on his shoulder, ‘remember your own good advice to me.’
Gaius took a breath and got himself back under control. ‘You’re right, dear boy: stay alive and don’t let your sense of honour overrule your judgement. Let it be someone else that he pushes over the edge; with behaviour like that it won’t take long.’
‘At least with behaviour like that you can see it coming,’ Magnus pointed out. ‘You know what to expect, and can accept it before it even happens; it makes it easier to control yourself. It’s when things take you by surprise that you lose your judgement.’ He stared darkly at Sabinus who was looking pleased with himself, having been singled out for favour so conspicuously by the Emperor. ‘And if there’s one thing I wouldn’t like it would be Caligula preparing a surprise for me, if you take my meaning?’