“How may I be of service, Caesar?” he asked.
“I need strong leadership in the east. As you know, the Parthians are always causing trouble. I need somebody who can keep them in check and protect our interests in the Eastern Empire.”
“And what of Piso?” Germanicus asked, referring to a legate in the east whom he mistrusted greatly.
“Piso has done nothing unlawful that I can pinpoint directly,” Tiberius answered. “He was appointed by the Divine Augustus and has, thus far, been steadfastly loyal and a good friend. However, I do question some of his methods and motives. Use your discretion. However, do not just go firing legates and appointed officials simply because they disagree with your policies.”
“Yes, Caesar, how soon do you want me to depart?”
“The sooner the better. Arrange to have your baggage sent after you. I need your eyes in the East as soon as possible.”
Later that evening, Germanicus stopped by to see his mother. Antonia was the daughter of Marc Anthony and widow of Tiberius’ brother, Drusus. She was also one of the few people whom Tiberius cherished as a friend. He had never forgotten what she had meant to his brother, and when Drusus died he promised he would always look after her.
Antonia sat reading by lamplight. She was more handsome than pretty, and age had taken its toll on her. She was a stoic in the deepest sense of the word, though she could never truly hide her emotions from her eldest son. She allowed herself a slight smile as Germanicus walked into the room. He was physically tired and mentally exhausted. However, he knew that this may be the only opportunity he had to see his family before he left for the east. Antonia stood and embraced her son.
“I was beginning to think you were going to leave without saying goodbye,” she said with a slight scold in her voice.
“How can I say goodbye when I haven’t even had a chance to say hello?” Germanicus laughed.
They made their way over to a couple of lounge chairs in the foyer.
“You have done admirably,” Antonia remarked. “I see more and more of your father in you every time I see you. I’m certain he’s proud of you, wherever he may be.” She gazed upward at her last remark.
Germanicus followed her stare into the unknown. There was a long silence before he spoke again.
“I see that you are doing well, Mother. How is Claudius? I stopped by to see him, but he wasn’t home.”
Antonia’s face turned into a scowl at the mention of her youngest son. She was embarrassed by him, though it gave her no pleasure admitting it. She was convinced he was a half-wit and a fool to be pushed aside and out of the way.
“He is here, out back,” she answered, nodding towards the gardens, “avoiding his wife, I don’t doubt.”
Germanicus stared at his mother, eyes ever questioning. “Why do you hate him so, Mother?”
The question took Antonia aback. “I don’t hate any of my children! What a monstrous thing to say!”
“I can see it in your eyes, in the way you talk to him. Maybe you don’t hate him, but you are embarrassed by him.”
“Who wouldn’t be?” Antonia asked with a frown. “The gods only know what your father would have done with him.” She turned and looked away, anxious for the conversation to be over.
Germanicus’ expression never changed. “I’m not embarrassed by him,” he said earnestly.
“Have you said hello to your sister?” Antonia asked, turning back towards him.
When Germanicus looked down she cracked a half smile. “Oh no, you’re not embarrassed by your brother, but ashamed of your sister.”
“It’s not that I’m ashamed of Livilla, I just don’t care for her very much.” Germanicus’ face hardened as his mother raised an eyebrow at the remark. “At least I can admit it, Mother. She’s a wicked, scheming little girl.”
“You could still give her the courtesy of a visit,” Antonia replied, placing her hand on his.
Germanicus nodded. “Alright, I’ll try and be nicer to Livilla if you’ll stop acting so unkind towards Claudius. Now, I’m going to go and see him.” With that he kissed his mother on the cheek and walked out through the archway leading to the palace gardens.
Night had long since fallen when Germanicus went to find his brother. As he passed by a fountain, he saw a glimmer of light coming from a lamp. He smiled as he saw Claudius sitting on a bench, reading and writing in the dim light.
Germanicus sighed at the sight of his brother. It wasn’t fair, really. He had been blessed with a superior physique, a sound constitution, and had been fortunate in his military career. His brother, on the other hand, suffered from a bad limp caused by a club foot, his head twitched uncontrollably at times, and he had a tendency to stutter. Because of this, many had thought him to be mentally incompetent. This was, of course, nonsense. Claudius was an accomplished scholar and historian. He was the author of several books pertaining to Etruscan and early Roman history. Germanicus had read most of them and was an avid admirer of his brother’s works.
“Am I disturbing you?” Germanicus asked.
“N…n…no, not at all,” Claudius replied. He continued to write for a few more seconds before setting everything beneath the bench. He motioned for his brother to have a seat with him.
“It’s been a long time since we last had a chance to just sit and talk,” Germanicus observed.
“T…too long,” Claudius stuttered, his head twitching slightly. “Tell me, b…brother, how long will you be in Rome?”
“Just a few more days, unfortunately,” Germanicus sighed. “I’ve been reassigned to the East, and there is much to do before I leave. I plan on seeing our old friend Herod before I leave. That is, if I can get Drusus to let him stay sober long enough for me to get some useful first-hand information out of him about the province.”
Claudius laughed at that. Herod Agrippa was a dear friend of his, though he admitted that his Judean friend, who was the grandson of Herod the Great, did seem to enjoy Rome’s excessive vices a little too much. In spite of this, the Emperor was rather fond of him, and he and Drusus were practically inseparable.
“I admit I am a bit surprised to see you out here,” Germanicus said. “I heard about your marriage and met your wife when I stopped by to see you.”
Claudius dropped his head and looked away disappointed. “My m…marriage is n…nothing but a joke, a cruel and t…twisted joke,” he replied sulkily. “It was our grandmother who arranged it. I think she did it out of s…spite.” It was common knowledge that Livia had never cared for her handicapped grandson, and it was she who spoke most openly about his mental ineptitude. Many, including Germanicus, felt that Claudius exaggerated his afflictions when he was around her and intentionally made himself out to be a bigger fool than he was. Perhaps it was just so people would leave him in peace.
“Well, your wife’s face is not unpleasant to look at,” Germanicus replied, soothingly. “Truth is she’s fairly attractive.”
“L…like I ever get a chance to see her face!” Claudius retorted. “The woman stands more than a foot t…taller than me. Frankly, I think she was in on the joke along with everyone else”.
“I think she’s a foot taller than most men I know,” Germanicus said, stifling a laugh.
This, in turn, caused Claudius to laugh in spite of himself.
“Dear brother, it is good to see you again.” He placed a hand on Claudius’ shoulder for emphasis.
Sometimes Claudius felt that Germanicus was all he had in the world. He had been just an infant when his father died. His mother blamed him for many of their family’s follies, and his sister…well, he preferred not to even think about Livilla. He tolerated her only because she was married to Drusus, who was their cousin and also one of his best friends. No, Germanicus was the only person Claudius ever really felt comfortable around.