This time Narcissus’ palms slammed down. ‘I don’t want a little time; I want fair warning!’
Pallas leant forward, his face betraying a rare emotion: urgent worry, which Vespasian knew to be false. ‘Dear colleague, this is getting us nowhere. We must react to the situation we have rather than regret what we don’t have.’
Narcissus took in a great gulp of air and shook his head; his weighty earrings rocked on his lobes catching the lamplight and his be-ringed hands combed through his hair, pulling back his head.
‘Vespasian has done the best that he could do in the circumstances,’ Pallas continued once he had regained Narcissus’ attention. ‘He’s left his brother, who’s loyal to us, in Rome to forestall any attempt to convene the Senate earlier than planned tomorrow and he’s brought two witnesses, both of whom, by chance, the Emperor knows, having made use of their services himself on a regular basis. We can use them to persuade Claudius, finally, of Messalina’s debauchery and get him to order her execution.’
‘But what if the Senate and the Guard take her side? She’s married to a consul!’
‘So it would seem; but is she really?’
Claudius gibbered to himself, wringing his hands and drooling copious amounts of saliva down his chin and onto his night-robe as he sat on the edge of his bed looking at the two naked whores kneeling before him; each grasped a shaking, imperial leg in supplication.
‘We did not know, Princeps,’ Calpurnia pleaded, ‘she told us that you had divorced her.’
Claudius looked up at Narcissus. ‘D-d-d-did I d-divorce her?’
‘Of course not, Princeps; although I have hinted many times that you should.’
‘Hinted?’ Claudius’ legs jerked, kicking away the supplicants. ‘Why should you hint such a thing when my Messalina is a perfect wife?’
Narcissus cleared his throat. ‘As you know, there have been rumours-’
‘Rumours? But none of them were true; M-M-Messalina told me so herself.’
Vespasian felt Pallas’ hand touch his elbow; he stepped forward. ‘But this is not a rumour, Princeps; I saw the nuptial feast and these women witnessed the marriage as they have already sworn to you. Look at them, naked and sticky with the juice of Bacchus; they have told you what the feast was like. I saw Messalina copulate with Silius and then declare that she was Gaia to his Gaius.’
Claudius shook his head, trailing mucus from his nose. ‘I must see her face before I believe this; I promised that to my little bird.’
‘No, Princeps,’ Narcissus urged, ‘she would gull you again as she has all of us for so many years. It is your duty to act and it is ours to keep you safe.’ He brandished a scroll at the Emperor. ‘You must order her execution.’
Claudius’ hands twisted around each other, entangling the fingers. ‘But I can’t order the death of the mother of my children.’
‘You must, Claudius! Don’t you understand? Is it so difficult to comprehend the danger that you’re in? That all of us are in. Messalina is going to attempt to set herself and her new husband up as regents for Britannicus and that leaves no place for you; you are a dead man in her plans. Whatever happens now your children will lose one parent.’ Narcissus walked up close to the Emperor, closer than deference to his position should allow. ‘Tell me, Claudius, do you want to deprive them of a mother or a father? Because if it’s the latter you might just as well fall on your sword now and we’ll all follow your example. Or you can start acting like an emperor and order the execution of someone who threatens your position. Which is it to be?’
Claudius seemed not to notice the lack of respect his freedman was showing him but, instead, took his hand and, looking up into Narcissus’ face, burst into fits of ragged, choking sobs; tears now ran from his eyes as freely as the mucus from his nostrils and the saliva from his mouth. Narcissus released the Emperor’s hand and stepped back, his face working hard to conceal the disgust that Vespasian knew he must feel at such a pathetic sight.
‘I, I, I …’ Claudius began and then trailed off. ‘I just want to be emperor.’ His voice was barely audible. He looked with pleading eyes at his chief freedman. ‘Am I still emperor, Narcissus?’
‘You are, Princeps; and you will remain so if you act like one.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes! Now sign that bitch’s death warrant.’ He thrust the scroll in Claudius’ face.
Vespasian sensed that it was as much as Narcissus could do to restrain himself from striking the quivering wreck of a man.
Claudius eased the scroll away. ‘All right, I will.’
Narcissus heaved a sigh of relief.
‘But not here,’ Claudius continued, pushing himself up from the bed. ‘I shall do it in Rome.’
‘But why wait, Princeps?’
‘I want to be taken to the Praetorian camp; I want them to watch me sign it so that they know the sorrow that it causes me but realise that I have no choice.’
‘But, Princeps-’
Claudius raised his hand. ‘No, Narcissus; you have already overstepped the mark, we’ll have no more. I will sign it there.’ He looked down at the two whores, suddenly distracted. ‘We’ll leave as soon as I’ve … er … got over the shock of the situation.’
‘Yes, Princeps.’
Pallas stepped forward, unrolling a parchment upon which was written out an Imperial Decree. ‘Princeps, as you are aware there are two problems in this issue: the first one you have just dealt with in a forthright manner; may I suggest you deal with the second in the same vein? The problem of Silius being consul can, I believe, be solved by you signing this Imperial Decree, now. Vespasian will deliver it to his brother, who, as an ex-consul, has the right to speak first in a session; and with a decree from you in his hand, no one will gainsay him.’
Claudius took the scroll and read it, his mouth moving silently with the words. After a short while his slimed face broke into a smile. ‘Yes, yes; it’s what I wanted anyway.’ He took it to his desk, signed it and put his seal to the signature before handing it back to Pallas. ‘Thank you, Pallas.’
Pallas added a handwritten note before rolling up the decree and passing it to Vespasian. ‘Get this to Sabinus, watch the session and then come and report to us, on the road between here and Rome, as soon as the second vote has been taken.’
‘The second vote? What’ll that be?’
‘Immensely satisfying.’
Vespasian found Sabinus waiting on the steps of the Senate House with Gaius. Sweat ran freely down Vespasian’s face, for he had walked as fast as dignity would allow, with Magnus, Cassandros and Tigran clearing the way for him, from the Porta Ostiensis where they had left Sextus and Marius in charge of their horses. ‘Wait for me here, Magnus.’
‘Well?’ Sabinus asked as Vespasian mounted the steps.
Vespasian handed him the Imperial Decree. ‘Here it is; read it out before any other business is discussed. There’s also a note in there for you.’
Sabinus unrolled the scroll, perused it quickly and then looked at Pallas’ note; a broad smile of satisfaction crept over his face. ‘It would seem that I’m not only paying off my debt but I am also to do Pallas a favour for which he will reward me handsomely.’
‘What with, dear boy?’ Gaius asked, interested, as always, in any patronage offered the family.
‘Moesia.’
‘A province with two legions! That shows great favour.’
‘With the added financial incentive of Macedonia and Thracia.’
Gaius rubbed his hands together. ‘That’s enough to secure your finances for a long time.’