Vespasian was astonished. ‘You charge people for appointments to see Narcissus?’
Caenis raised her eyebrows conspiratorially. ‘Of course. He’s the most powerful man in the Empire and people can only get official access to him through me; they pay handsomely for a quick appointment and I’d be a fool not to take their money.’
Vespasian chewed this over for a moment. ‘Yes, I suppose you would be; after all, no one gets paid for serving Rome.’
‘And I’ve got one of the most important commodities in the city to sell and I’m doing very nicely from it.’
Vespasian smiled and kissed Caenis again. ‘Even the most beautiful woman in Rome sells her favour.’
‘It’s just business, my love; there is nothing wrong with the accumulation of wealth.’
‘I agree, but I was brought up to believe that a man should make a profit by working his estates hard.’
‘You do it your way and I’ll do it mine. But remember that every denarius that you pass up will belong to somebody else and seeing as wealth is power the best way to defend yourself from the powerful is to gain as much wealth as they have — as quickly as possible.’
‘And in the process make others less wealthy.’
‘Exactly.’
Vespasian thought for a few moments, toying with Caenis’ hand. ‘So I should use this situation that’s been forced on me to do precisely that. If I take the offensive and gain some advantage from this I’ll feel a lot better.’
Caenis leant forward and nuzzled his neck. ‘Much better.’
Vespasian responded, feeling the arousal of the previous night returning. ‘I think that if Corvinus really wants me to set up a meeting with Narcissus to bargain for his life then he should pay for the privilege.’
‘Just like everyone else does. But you’ve already agreed to do it free of charge.’
‘So I’ll have to find another way of extracting the money from him.’
‘And you will, my love.’ Caenis began working on his earlobe, flicking it gently with her tongue. ‘And because I’d rather have power over you than let Messalina have that pleasure, I’ll lend you the money to pay off Flavia’s debt, seeing as I can well afford it. Are you starting to feel better now?’
‘Far more in control,’ Vespasian said, sliding her stola from one shoulder and kissing the exposed flesh. ‘In fact, I’m feeling really quite manly again.’
‘That’s quite a boast; I’d be interested to see if it stands up under close scrutiny.’
He rolled her onto her side. ‘I shan’t dignify that with an answer.’
‘I wasn’t expecting an oral response from you.’ She smiled with a mischievous twinkle and then eased herself down and kissed his chest. ‘I was planning on doing the talking.’
‘I’ll be very attentive.’
Caenis began to kiss her way lower and Vespasian looked back up at the ceiling, smiling, and then closed his eyes.
A soft knock at the door made him open them a few moments later.
‘Mistress?’ a voice from outside called.
‘What is it?’
‘The master’s friend, Magnus, is here; he says that it’s very important.’
‘Are you sure that it was him?’ Vespasian asked Magnus as they hurried along the busy Alta Semita, the main street running the length of the Quirinal Hill.
‘I didn’t see him. I’ve had my lads watching all the gladiator schools in the city; Marius and Sextus sent me a message saying that a man answering Theron’s description arrived at the school on the Campus Martius soon after dawn. Whether he’s still there now I don’t know; but the lads will follow him. If you hadn’t taken such a long time “getting dressed”, we’d be there by now.’
Vespasian mumbled an apology.
‘I’ve never known someone take almost half an hour to put on a loincloth, tunic, belt, sandals and toga; and you must have had help because Caenis came out of the bedroom with you.’ Magnus looked at Vespasian, his expression a study of innocence. ‘I just don’t understand it.’
‘What’s happened to your eye?’ Vespasian asked, keen to change the subject.
Magnus put his hand to his left eye, which stared sightlessly and unmoving directly ahead in a very unnatural manner. ‘I bought a glass one. Not bad, eh?’
‘You’d never know the difference,’ Vespasian lied as they passed the roofless Temple of Sancus, the god of trust, honesty and oaths.
‘That’s what all the lads say. They tell me that you have to look really carefully to spot that it’s a fake.’
Vespasian smothered a smile and refrained from giving his honest opinion as they passed through the Porta Sancus and out onto the Campus Martius.
Magnus’ crossroads brethren, Marius and Sextus, a couple of bull-like men in their fifties, were waiting for them leaning against the arched façade of the Circus Flaminius sharing a loaf of bread and an onion.
‘He’s still in there, sir,’ Marius said, pointing the leather-bound stump at the end of his left arm to a substantial, high-walled complex built of brick, with a single well-guarded gate, across a wide thoroughfare, next to the Theatre of Balbus. ‘That’s the only way in or out.’
‘Thank you, Marius,’ Vespasian said, handing each of the brethren a couple of sesterces. ‘Did he have anyone with him when he went in?’
‘It was Sextus that saw him; I was in Agrippa’s Baths taking a shit.’
Vespasian’s confidence in the sighting plummeted as he looked at Marius’ companion. ‘Well?’
Sextus scratched his shaven head and squeezed his eyes tight shut as if he were attempting a piece of complex mental arithmetic. ‘More than four, sir,’ he announced eventually with a look of relief.
‘How many more than four, Sextus?’
‘One or two.’
Hiding his annoyance, Vespasian decided not to pursue the finer details of Theron’s entourage — if, indeed, it was Theron. ‘Well, we’ll soon find out. Stay here, lads; there’s a tavern next to the baths and we’ll be in there having breakfast — one of you come and find us when they emerge.’
‘Theron!’ Vespasian called, walking fast to catch up with his quarry, with Magnus and his brethren following.
The Macedonian did not turn around even though he must have heard the shout. Surrounded by eight ex-gladiator bodyguards and a boy holding a parasol over his head, he walked on towards the Carmenta Gate in the shadow of the Temple of Jupiter, towering above on the Capitoline Hill to the right.
The deliberate slight annoyed Vespasian but he did not break into a run: it would have been beneath his dignitas as a senator to chase after a slave-trader in the streets.
As the Macedonian slowed to get through the crowds filing in and out of the gate, Vespasian drew level. ‘If you ignore me again, Theron, it’ll be more than just money that you owe me.’
Theron turned. He cranked his face into his most ingratiating smile and stepped towards Vespasian, holding out his arms as if greeting a long-lost friend. ‘Excellency, I did not know that you were back in Rome. I thank the gods for your safe return; news of your valiant exploits have travelled before you and I am honoured by your attention.’
‘I’m sure that you are, Theron, and I’m sure that you’ll be equally as honoured to pay the money that you owe me immediately.’
‘Noble senator, nothing would give me greater pleasure but, alas, you find me between transactions and-’
‘I don’t care for excuses, Theron, you’ve sold the stock that I allowed you to choose and therefore you have the money to pay me. I want it delivered to my uncle Gaius Vespasius Pollo’s house on the Quirinal this afternoon along with the bills of sale, which I shall verify with each of the parties involved to make sure that you haven’t cheated me. If it doesn’t arrive I’ll have no choice but to make use of the contract that you signed.’