Gracilis belched demurely.
The centurion continued his questions. Vinius liked his attitude: professional interest as a Guard, not leering after scandal or construing political science. With a soldier he trusted, Gracilis was diligently building a picture of the man they had to protect. He wanted to understand the Emperor, and the situation surrounding him.
Vinius offered: ‘Talking of executions, head of his hit-list was Flavius Sabinus.’
‘Cousin?’
‘Top cousin. He out-ranked Domitian at a family dinner table.’
‘Tricky situation?’
Vinius snorted. ‘For Sabinus.’
As the elder son of Vespasian’s elder brother, this Sabinus had been the most senior member of the Flavian clan. Initially, his position looked secure. He was appointed consul in Domitian’s first year, continuing the Flavian tradition of surrounding themselves with relatives. But Sabinus had already offended Domitian by having his household retainers dressed in white, which was imperial livery; Domitian had darkly implied the world was not big enough for both of them.
‘So when his consulship ended, Sabinus was executed.’
‘The heir presumptive? Just like that?’
Vinius croaked, ‘It didn’t exactly help him look harmless when a herald at the Games accidentally announced Sabinus as not consul but emperor.’
‘In Domitian’s presence?’ Gracilis winced.
‘Let’s be realistic. The herald probably got a reward for giving him a reason to lop the cousin.’
Gracilis pursed his lips. ‘Do doctors hand out diarrhoea pills in the palace?’
‘Are the rest shit scared? Too right.’ Vinius smiled, then continued in a neutral voice, ‘I haven’t heard anyone else say this, but I think it was significant that the Emperor had just lost his young son. Maybe his cousin openly presumed too much after the boy’s death. The other problem was — and you may think, still is — Sabinus was married to Titus’ daughter, Julia.’
‘She a threat?’
‘No signs so far, but she could theoretically become a figurehead for devotees of Titus.’
‘Even if she’s loyal?’ Gracilis grimly added Julia to his list of Praetorian concerns.
‘Julia must be ten years younger than the Emperor,’ said Vinius. ‘But I believe they were brought up together. Vespasian had offered her in marriage to Domitian for dynastic reasons, but Julia was a child and he was in love with Domitia Longina. Julia’s later marriage to Sabinus was equally political.’ Vinius sounded cynical, though it was not obvious whether he disapproved of how noblewomen were shunted into bed with their cousins or if he had come to despise marriage in general.
‘They had children?’
‘Luckily for the children, no. “ Oh precious nephew, sweet innocent niece, come and sit on Uncle’s knee — let Rome’s great leader wrap his friendly hands around your little rival throats… ”’
Gracilis sent Vinius a reproving look, but pressed on. ‘What’s he like with the Senate?’
‘Ignores them as much as possible.’
‘Vespasian and Titus at least paid lip service.’
‘Domitian doesn’t bother.’
‘Advisers? Any powers behind the throne that we need to watch?’
Vinius took a deep swallow of his wine as a punctuation mark. His tone was dry. ‘There is an ad hoc council of amici, Caesar’s Friends.’
Gracilis picked up on his scepticism. ‘How does that work?’
‘About twenty advisers. He summons them periodically to watch him announce decisions. Every man is bloody scared stiff. They tremble and burble admiringly. So much for the venerated Roman system,’ said Vinius. ‘Surely the whole point is for a man’s private circle to tell him what nobody else dares say?’
Gracilis pulled a face. ‘So who is his confidante? The Empress?’ A powerful empress could be a nightmare for imperial bodyguards.
Domitia’s role seemed merely ceremonial, her influence of no concern. Vinius dismissed the suggestion.
They next discussed how Domitian treated the imperial bureaucracy, those influential freedmen running the palace with whom the Guards had to liaise. ‘He kept the most loyal of his father’s private associates, but the palace staff — whom you could say really wield administrative power — were comprehensively weeded.’ Vinius gave examples: ‘He started with Classicus, who had been close to Titus. Classicus was in charge of Titus’ personal finances plus, as chamberlain, he spent a lot of time in the Emperor’s presence, and controlled access. He was swiftly chopped. Also pensioned off was Tiberius Julius, who ran the public funds — there were rumours of embezzlement, possibly trumped up to get rid of him — along with anyone else who seemed too significant in the previous administration, or whose face simply didn’t fit.’
‘Ditching staff-in-post is a good rule,’ said Gracilis approvingly. ‘Shake them up. Put in your own. Make them grateful.’ That’s why I’m looking at you, Gaius Vinius…
‘To his credit, he takes care with appointments. Demotion or promotion, he vets every one. If scribes don’t meet his standards, the duds don’t linger. And we are talking about a huge complement, Gracilis. There are scores of staff in the secretariats.’ They both grimaced. ‘He’s into everything as well. The bureaucrats hate his interference — though it’s a dilemma because this could be a good time for them if they want to be associated with a big programme of work. Titus left a full Treasury and if Domitian has inherited their father’s way with making money, funds won’t be a problem. But he demands details; he won’t let the secretaries move on anything until he gives personal approval.’
‘So what’s your overall assessment?’
Vinius had thoroughly warmed up and had answers ready: ‘He wants to be the new Augustus. People are calling him the new Nero, but they can’t see further than his youth and his love for the arts.’
‘We have to attend a lot of recitals?’
‘Afraid so! But he also loves gladiators.’
‘And long term? Is he ambitious?’
‘As Hades.’
‘I like it!’ Ambitious emperors were good news for troops. ‘So he’s thirty,’ murmured Gracilis. ‘Are we going a long way with him?’
‘Well, bodily, he does not impress — ’ Vinius, a fit man in a physical profession, was frank. ‘Mentally, I’d say he packs power. No question about his intelligence — or his determination. He has the will, he should make his mark. He’s rebuilding the city, revamping the currency, re-establishing old-fashioned morals…’
‘Jupiter! What does that mean?’
‘As Pontifex Maximus he cleaned up the Vestal Virgins-’
‘ Cleaned them up? The most revered women in Rome? What did they do? Let the sacred flame go out once too often?’
‘All very sad,’ murmured Vinius, with a trace of disrespect. ‘Brought to trial for taking lovers. Varronilla, and the Oculata sisters…’
‘Half the establishment! Found guilty?’
‘Their affairs were blatant. But to demonstrate his mercy, our leader stopped short of the traditional burial alive. They were allowed to choose how they died.’
‘A delicate touch!’
‘Feather light. Other than that, reforming morals means restating the Augustan marriage laws. Everyone should have at least three children, preferably by fathers who can be identified; widows have to remarry smartish; and the spoilsport has outlawed adultery.’ Cautious again, Vinius dropped his voice: ‘No doubt with the usual proviso that everyone else has to give up their private fun, but not the Emperor.’
‘So what’s his private fun?’ Past Caesars who indulged themselves had had disgusting habits. Gracilis acquired the anxious look of a man with no sexual history himself, fearing the worst.
‘Founding new cultural festivals,’ replied the soldier gravely. ‘Our leader is a married man, who is famously infatuated with his wife — a general’s daughter, who may even be faithful to him — well, if Domitia Longina has any sense she’ll bloody well make sure she is.’