As the ancient formulae were spoken by the three men, unheard above the hubbub, there was a stirring in the crowd and fingers were pointed up to the Arx, above the gate, on the Capitoline Hill. There, before the Temple of Juno, resplendent in purple and crowned in laurel stood Claudius. He raised his arms and gestured for silence.
‘B-b-brave Plautius,’ the Emperor declaimed, once the crowd was quiet, in a high-pitched voice that carried remarkably well. ‘Welcome back to Rome!’ He threw both arms in the air to raise a cheer that was forthcoming and mighty. With an expansive swipe of his arm he cut it off and continued: ‘Stay there, b-b-brave P-Plautius, so that I may come and embrace you.’
Claudius turned and disappeared to the cheering of the crowd and the obvious fury of Plautius. He stood and waited as the crowd’s enthusiasm dwindled and restlessness set in until eventually Claudius lurched into sight. The senators parted for their Emperor as he approached Plautius and, with melodramatic pleasure, enfolded him in the imperial bosom whilst liberally spreading saliva over each of his cheeks.
Once Plautius was released, a white horse was led through the crowd; Claudius was helped into the saddle and gave the signal for the parade to recommence. With a slave leading his mount, Claudius moved off, towering above Plautius, who, with as much dignity as he could muster, walked in his Emperor’s shadow as an accessory in his own Ovation.
‘Well, that was well managed,’ Gaius said as the senators turned to follow the Consuls up to the Temple of Jupiter for the climax of the spectacle — again, it being only an Ovation, they did not lead the procession around its route. ‘Narcissus, Pallas and Callistus hijacked that brilliantly and Plautius can’t complain: the Emperor has shown him honour by accompanying him, yet because of his physical deformities he has to ride a horse. Very clever; even Plautius would have to admire it.’
Vespasian was forced to agree. ‘It was; the one surprise was that Messalina didn’t manage to inveigle her way into the proceedings.’
‘Oh, I’m sure that she has business of her own to attend to whilst Claudius is busy.’
Vespasian smiled and clapped his uncle and brother on their shoulders. ‘I’m sure she has, as have I. Don’t be surprised if you see me in strange company in the next couple of hours; and please, whatever you do, don’t remark upon it to anybody.’
‘This is a very expensive way of doing Narcissus a favour,’ Corvinus complained, joining Vespasian on the steps to the Temple of Jupiter and standing just behind his left shoulder. Around them the Senate waited, sweating in the noon sun, watching the Ovation process into the Forum Romanum below.
Vespasian did not turn to greet him. ‘You wouldn’t have paid it if you didn’t think that it was a fair price for the chance of saving your life.’
‘Narcissus wouldn’t have asked for it if you hadn’t put him up to it.’
‘Narcissus is a businessman as well as a politician; he always charges for his time.’
‘And he just upped his price tenfold when he heard that it was me?’
‘He doesn’t know who it is that he’s meeting today; so don’t feel discriminated against.’
‘You didn’t tell him that it was me?’
‘No. If you have information to sell it holds its value best if you keep its contents secret.’
‘So you are benefiting from this, aren’t you, bumpkin?’
‘Narcissus received the full quarter of a million, Corvinus.’ He handed him a small scroll. ‘Here’s the receipt with his seal. What my arrangement is with him is none of your business. Just be thankful that I persuaded him to come to this meeting.’
Corvinus glanced at the receipt and then hissed a stream of obscenities into his ear, which just added to Vespasian’s enjoyment of the situation. He was careful to conceal it, however, with a solemn expression as he watched Plautius begin his ascent of the Gemonian Stairs on his knees.
Corvinus had flown into a fit of rage when Vespasian had presented Narcissus’ demand for payment. He had threatened all kinds of torment for Flavia and the children, to which Vespasian had shrugged his shoulders and pointed out that Narcissus’ business practices had nothing to do with him, and Corvinus could threaten as much as he liked but that would not get him any closer to a meeting with Narcissus in a manner that would not rouse Messalina’s suspicions. Corvinus had handed over the money in ten small chests, each containing a thousand gold aurei, with ill-concealed bad grace, which Vespasian had stoked by hinting that Narcissus was sometimes apt to change his mind even after payment had been received. Magnus and a couple of his brethren had helped Vespasian to take five of the chests directly to the Cloelius Brothers’ banking business in the forum and the other five, along with a note as to the whereabouts of Theron, to Narcissus’ secretary. Caenis had thanked him kindly for both and had issued a receipt for the full amount in Narcissus’ name and had promised that Theron would be first on Narcissus’ appointment list on his return from Ostia. She had again neglected to charge for this favour on the understanding that Vespasian would be especially attentive over the next few days.
Now in possession of the wherewithal to pay off Messalina’s loan to Flavia without having to borrow from Caenis, Vespasian ignored Corvinus’ insults, contemplating instead the delicious irony that he would pay off the sister with the brother’s money.
The four white bulls appeared in front of the temple having been led up the winding path along the summit of the Tarpeian Rock as Plautius completed his ritual mounting of the Gemonian Stairs and was helped to his feet by his Emperor to another roar from the crowd. The senators applauded him formally as he approached the Temple of Rome’s guardian god with his toga covering his head. The bulls had been lined up under the portico of the temple and priests with the instruments of sacrifice attended them.
Claudius did Plautius the honour of taking the mallet and prepared to stun the bulls in turn in readiness for the sacrificial blade.
Corvinus had now quietened and Vespasian watched Plautius turn his palms to the sky; he addressed Jupiter with a prayer so ancient that it could be barely understood but reminded everyone present of how venerable this ceremony was, and had been down the long years of Roman history.
‘This is the second time that you’ve surprised me, Vespasian,’ Narcissus muttered, sliding into the gap to the left of him. ‘I saw your slave-dealer yesterday; I think that the conclusion will be satisfactory for you.’ He turned to Corvinus. ‘How nice to bump into you at this ceremony.’
‘Did you get my money?’ Corvinus demanded.
‘Naturally, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.’
‘How much?’
‘A quarter of a million, as it said on the receipt.’
Vespasian felt Corvinus’ eyes bore into the back of his head as Claudius crashed the mallet onto the forehead of the first beast to die. The sacrificial blade flashed in the sun and a moment later was dulled by gore.
‘Well, Corvinus,’ Narcissus asked with a silken tone, ‘what do you have for me that will make my sparing your life on your sister’s demise worthwhile?’
‘My sister is planning to get married again.’
Vespasian had seen Narcissus at a loss for words once before in Britannia but this was the first time he had seen him not only struggling for the right response but also reeling from shock. In front of the temple the first bull collapsed to its knees as the blood flowed from its gaping throat.
‘She has to be mad!’ Narcissus eventually managed to whisper. ‘She can’t unilaterally divorce Claudius.’
‘You know perfectly well that in law she is entitled to do just that and she doesn’t even have to inform her husband that she’s left the marriage.’
‘What is she planning then? Giving up being the Empress, losing the right to see her children, retiring to private life and allowing somebody else to take her place?’