‘But you did believe them?’
‘I don’t know; I suppose there has to be some truth in them somewhere.’
‘The island is haunted, there’s no doubt. I never like being on my own, especially outside the camp at night. I always get the feeling that I’m being watched and it don’t feel like human eyes on me, if you take my meaning?’
Vespasian did but did not like to admit it.
‘Do you remember the power of the Germanic gods we felt in the forests of Germania Magna? It felt like our gods were weak there compared to them because we were so far away from their home. Here we’re even further away and, what’s more, we’re across the sea. What chance do our deities have to protect us here in a country full of strange gods and daemons and the druids who seem to feed off their power? I spent my time constantly clutching my thumb and spitting to avert the evil-eye while I was last here and I’m sure that I’ll be doing the same thing this time.’
‘I’m sure you will. But whatever power there is in this land and however the druids harness it and whatever sacrifices they make to their gods to try to ensure that they keep them safe there’s one thing that I’m sure of: no god or daemon or spirit, wraith, ghost or whatever is going to waste its time coming into my sleeping quarters and lighting one little oil lamp.’
Magnus slumped down on the bed and heaved a sigh. ‘Then as I said: either it reignited because you hadn’t extinguished it properly or Hormus is lying to you.’
‘Master,’ Hormus said, standing in the entrance, ‘Paetus is here.’
‘Back to Rome immediately?’ Paetus looked confused as he stood in front of Vespasian’s desk an hour before dawn. ‘There’s nothing that I’d like more; but my replacement hasn’t arrived yet.’
‘As the senior decurion, Ansigar is more than capable of looking after the ala until he does.’
‘I suppose so; but why now, all of a sudden?’
‘Politics, prefect,’ Vespasian replied, aware as ever of the difference between the young man’s patrician accent and his Sabine country burr; he had always tried to lessen it when talking with Paetus’ father, his long-dead friend, but now he no longer felt the need to obfuscate his background.
‘But I’m not eligible to take my seat in the Senate until next year at the earliest; I’m not involved in politics yet.’
Vespasian turned Pallas’ letter over in his hands. ‘Every Roman of your class is involved in politics sooner or later, Paetus, and I’m afraid your turn has arrived now whether you like it or not. Sit down and I’ll explain.’
Paetus took a seat opposite Vespasian.
Vespasian unfurled Pallas’ letter and scanned it again before raising his eyes to his young subordinate. ‘This letter is from one of the most powerful men in Rome, one whom I am lucky enough to call a friend but upon whose friendship I cannot presume. So, when I get a request from him, I know better than to refuse it because, however it’s been worded, I’m well aware that it’s an order.’
‘Who’s it from?’
‘It’s from Marcus Antonius Pallas, freedman of the late Lady Antonia. Upon her suicide he, quite naturally, transferred his allegiance to her only surviving son, the Emperor Claudius.
‘Now, I don’t need to tell you what the Emperor is like; you have seen him for yourself and have no doubt formed your own opinion. I will not say anything treasonous about him to you nor will I get you to compromise yourself in that way by asking you to express your true opinion of the man. Do I make myself clear?’
Paetus nodded slowly. ‘As clear as you can, sir; I believe from the phrasing of that sentence that our opinions are broadly similar.’
Vespasian allowed himself a half-smile as he inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘We understand each other; good. So therefore it won’t surprise you to learn that Claudius is not much more than a figurehead emperor who is subject, in the main, to the will of four, normally conflicting, forces.’
‘I had heard that that was how the government worked at the moment although I don’t know the details — I haven’t been in Rome since before Caligula’s death and it’s not something to discuss in letters nor speak loosely about in the officers’ mess.’
‘A very wise precaution and one which we shall now ignore in the privacy of this tent. Three of these four forces are Claudius’ freedmen: Pallas, the secretary to the Treasury; Callistus, whose sphere of influence is justice and the law courts; and then there’s his chief freedman, Narcissus, who’s been with him the longest and was responsible for keeping him safe during the reigns of Caligula and Tiberius — he’s the imperial secretary, in charge of Claudius’ correspondence and diary. That means he has complete control over all foreign and domestic policy as well as access to the Emperor; no one can get to Claudius except by going through him. No one, that is, except for the Empress, Messalina. Neither Narcissus nor Messalina are happy with this arrangement — both feel that the other exerts too much influence on their malleable Emperor; Callistus and Pallas meanwhile both squabble for second place behind Narcissus whilst supporting him in his feud for the mastery of Rome with the Empress. Now, whatever you might think of this and however outraged you may be that the Senate has no influence in the matter, it is best to be pragmatic and accept the situation because there is nothing that you or I can do to change it. Would you agree?’
‘It would seem that we have little choice.’
‘Very little indeed. The only choice most of us have is which one of these four people to support in order to gain advancement; but I’m afraid that in your case you’ve had that decision made for you.’
Paetus frowned. ‘By whom?’
‘By me, and I apologise for that, Paetus. I promised your father, who was my good friend, that I would look out for you. It was a promise that I did not keep that well and I’ve compounded that fault by getting you involved in the feuding of those in power.’
‘When?’
‘When you reported to me, two years ago, that your scouts had told you that Corvinus had not stopped his Ninth Hispana on the northern bank of the Tamesis River as ordered, but had carried on. I told you not to tell anyone and that I would inform Plautius when I felt the time was right; in doing so I made you complicit in a plot against Messalina and her brother, Corvinus, which had been set in motion by Narcissus. They are no doubt aware of your part and so that makes you their enemy. Pallas is also aware of it and wants to use the fact to help bolster his position. If you don’t co-operate he will halt your career and that gives you no alternative other than to go to Rome and do his bidding.’
Around the camp bucinae sounded the general reveille, announcing yet another day under the Eagle of the II Augusta.
Paetus paused for a few moments’ reflection before acknowledging with a small hand gesture the veracity of his commander’s words. ‘What does he want me to do?’
‘He wants you to do what any man of your age and class would do: he wants you to go back and get elected as one of the quaestors. He will see to it that you don’t get posted to a province but, rather, serve as an Urban Quaestor, as your father did, so that you can take your seat in the Senate immediately.’
‘That’s what I was planning to do as soon as my replacement arrives; why the rush?’
‘Because Pallas wants you to be back in time for this year’s elections; he wants you to be in place in the Senate by next year, not the year after.’
Paetus leant forward in his chair. ‘In place to do what?’
‘In place to be prepared to act as a witness at a treason trial.’
‘Who’s to be prosecuted?’
‘Corvinus, of course, and you’re to be the star witness; a senator from the Junii, one of the oldest and most renowned families in Rome, who can swear that the Ninth Hispana carried on across the Tamesis without provocation and their legate thereby committed an act of treason.’