False god of rome v 3, p.23
False God of Rome v-3, page 23
part #3 of Vespasian Series
As the bier caught light and the corpse began to sizzle, Caligula descended from the dais and, flanked by the Consuls and praetors and preceded by twelve lictors, made his way towards Pompey’s Theatre, through the crowd who now cheered their new hero with an enthusiasm fuelled by the final consumption of the old Emperor’s body. Caligula basked in their adoration, dispensing largesse and tickets for the funeral games to be held after the mourning period was ended.
‘We’d better go in,’ Gaius muttered, turning to follow the other senators into the theatre to wait to be addressed by their new Emperor.
‘As to the titles and honours that you have voted me, I will allow them all except “Father of the Country”, you can vote me that at a later date; and I shall postpone becoming Senior Consul until June. However, you will vote my grandmother Antonia the title of “Augusta” and my three sisters all the privileges of the Vestal Virgins.’
The senators, already almost hoarse from acclaiming Caligula as he had entered the theatre, cheered their assent to these orders.
‘Do you think that last measure was meant to be ironic, Uncle?’ Vespasian quipped out of the corner of his mouth. Gaius knew better than to smile at the joke.
As Caligula continued his address, Vespasian surreptitiously scanned the faces of the senators; most of them had screwed their faces into sombre expressions of acceptance as they listened to their new Emperor’s demands, unable to find fault with any of them. As his gaze wandered to the end of a line those two dark eyes met his again and he felt the hatred that burned within them.
‘Finally,’ Caligula announced by way of conclusion, ‘I will halt all treason trials; it is unimaginable that anyone would harbour a treasonous thought against an emperor so loved by his people. To this end I will burn all the papers containing evidence against members of this House that Tiberius had collected. I will do this in order that, no matter how strongly I may some day desire to harbour malice against any one of you for voting for my mother’s and my brothers’ deaths, I shall nevertheless be unable to punish him in the courts.’
This brought the loudest cheer of the meeting; the relieved senators felt themselves forgiven for their collusion, by way of opportunistic denunciations of members of Germanicus’ family in an attempt to curry favour with Tiberius and Sejanus as, for separate reasons, the two men had pursued the destruction of so much of Caligula’s family.
Caligula let them applaud his magnanimity for a good while before signalling for quiet and carrying on. ‘But seeing as you have deprived me of a brother to share my consulship in June I shall have to look elsewhere for a colleague, and the most suitable one that I can think of is my uncle, Claudius.’
There was a stunned silence; the thought of Claudius stuttering and drooling his way through all the ancient rituals of the Senate was appalling to all those present.
‘I understand your confusion, Conscript Fathers,’ Caligula sympathised, with a barely concealed look of amusement on his face. ‘Claudius is only an equestrian and not a member of the Senate.’ His eyes hardened. ‘So I shall make him one immediately. The Consuls, praetors, aediles and quaestors may have the privilege of accompanying me to Augustus’ House where I shall take up residence. That will be all.’ He turned and walked quickly towards the exit with the senior magistrates scrambling in an undignified manner to catch up.
As the young Emperor drew close to where Vespasian stood, ready to take his place along with the other magistrates, his dark-rimmed sunken eyes fell on him; with a radiant smile Caligula beckoned him to join him at the head of the procession.
‘My friend,’ Caligula said as Vespasian fell into step next to him, ‘I have been so looking forward to seeing you; what fun we shall have now.’
‘I’m honoured, Princeps,’ Vespasian replied, feeling the disapproving looks of the more senior magistrates upon him.
‘I suppose you are. I shall have to get used to my friends being honoured by my favour.’
Having not seen Caligula close up for almost six years he was surprised to notice that the hair on the top of his head was thinning and wispy; he felt his eyes drawn to it. Caligula caught his look and the cheerful expression on his face disappeared in an instant.
‘That is the last time you stare at my full head of hair,’ he warned coldly. A warm grin suddenly replaced the icy glare. ‘Tonight you dine with me; I’ve invited my grandmother, you can help me deal with her. I believe that she’s going to try and give me advice and tell me what to do. I think that would be most unwise of her; don’t you agree?’
‘If you feel that it would be unwise then I would agree with you, Princeps,’ Vespasian replied guardedly.
‘Oh, stop that Princeps nonsense in private with me, Vespasian, we’re friends. Now walk with me to the Palatine and tell me about the lovely Caenis.’
Vespasian swallowed hard.
‘Over five hundred million denarii, can you believe it?’ Caligula exclaimed as the imperial party reached the top of the Palatine, leaving the cheering masses below. ‘Just lying there in the treasury, doing nothing. The old miser was just sitting on it.’
‘It’s always good to have a reserve,’ Vespasian pointed out, still mightily relieved that Caligula’s attention span was so short that he had tired of the subject of Caenis after no more than a couple of stumbling sentences. ‘He was able to donate all that money for the rebuilding of the Aventine, for example.’
Caligula frowned. ‘Yes, what a waste giving it to people who can well afford to have their houses burned down; I’ll find a way to get it back off them, don’t you worry about that. But just think what I could do with all the rest. We shall have games every day and I shall build, Vespasian, build.’ He pointed to Augustus’ grand house, towards which they were heading, and that of Tiberius next to it. ‘I shall make these two feeble little dwellings into one huge palace fit for an emperor and his sisters, and I shall fill it with the best furniture, art and slaves from all over the Empire. And conquests, Vespasian, I shall make glorious conquests and celebrate Triumphs the like of which have never been seen. The Senate will be envious of my power and glory and will mutter and plot behind my back but will flatter me with titles to my face and I will mock them and humiliate them for their obsequiousness. They will hate me as they did Tiberius, but unlike him, I shall fill the city with the spoils of a hundred nations and fill the circus with thousands of captives to be slaughtered for the pleasure of the people, and they will love me and keep me safe.’
Vespasian glanced at Caligula as they mounted the steps to Augustus’ House and saw that he was wide-eyed with enthusiasm and ambition. It was going to be an expensive time for Rome. What would he do, he wondered, when the money ran out?
‘Gentlemen, thank you for accompanying me home,’ Caligula said, addressing his following from the top of the steps. ‘I shall rest now and gather my strength for the trials ahead of me. You may go.’
The senators vied with each other to be the loudest in shouting ‘Hail Caesar’ while Caligula lifted his right hand with the imperial ring, dazzling in the sun, on the forefinger and held his head back, lapping up the praise. Vespasian joined in with as much of a show of enthusiasm as the rest but with an unease brought about by Caligula’s all too obvious enjoyment of being so hailed and his reluctance to bring it to an end. Was he already mocking the foremost men in Rome by seeing how long they would praise him for? Eventually he lowered his arm, turned smartly on his heel and entered the house. Vespasian stood rooted to the spot, watching Caligula leave, unsure as to whether or not he too had been dismissed or was still expected for dinner.
He was just about to leave when Caligula stuck his head back out of the door. ‘Come on!’ he shouted fiercely. ‘You’re my friend, you stay with me.’
Vespasian ran towards the door wondering what advantage there would be in being the Emperor’s friend; if any.
CHAPTER XIIII
Vespasian found the scale of the interior of Augustus’ House overwhelming; his family’s whole house at Aquae Cutillae could have fitted into the atrium alone. Far greater in size than those of Antonia or her daughter Livilla, the two largest residences that he had visited on the Palatine, this had been built to overawe visiting dignitaries with the power of the man who had become the first among equals of the Roman ruling class. Yet there was no ostentation about it; it was an architectural study in power, not a bragging showcase of wealth. The columns supporting the high atrium ceiling were of the finest white marble and the intricate mosaics on the floor were beautifully executed scenes from the Aeneid in which the characters seemed almost to move, such was the realism with which they were depicted. However, the furnishings, ornaments and statuary were downplayed; each one a masterpiece in its own right but not gaudy or brash, their workmanship alone attested far better to their value than any extraneous gilding or augmentation with precious stones or lavish fabrics. It was a testament both to the taste and the political acumen of the man who had built it; he had not robbed Rome’s coffers in order to live in outrageous eastern-style luxury while the large percentage of his people scrabbled for their living; he had built it to impress upon those who visited him to seek Rome’s friendship and favour the enormous power of the combined force of all the citizens of Rome. He had built it in Rome’s image: practical, strong, towering and, above all, without pretension.
‘Miserable, isn’t it?’ Caligula complained as Vespasian caught up with him. ‘Augustus had no idea of how to display his wealth; I’ll be making a lot of changes to brighten the whole place up.’
‘I think it’s beautiful, Caligula, I wouldn’t change it at all.’
‘What would you know about beauty,’ Caligula scoffed, ‘you country boy with your Sabine accent? Anyway, you don’t have any say in the matter, I’m the Emperor and you’re just my subject.’
‘Indeed, Princeps.’
‘Gaius, my dearest,’ Antonia said, appearing from the far side of the vast atrium, ‘I have been waiting for you. Come here and let me look at my new Emperor whom I haven’t seen for six years.’
Caligula stopped still. ‘You come here, Grandmother; I do no one’s bidding now, not even yours.’
Antonia approached with a fixed smile on her face and stood before her grandson, taking his face in her hands and gazing up into his sunken eyes. ‘Juno be praised, you look well. I have prayed for this moment for a long time and now it’s finally come; my little Gaius emperor.’
‘I shall reward you for your prayers, Grandmother, although in truth they were unnecessary, I was destined for this. I have already ordered the Senate to vote you the title of “Augusta”.’
‘You are generous, Gaius, to have me so honoured.’ She reached up automatically to ruffle his hair, as she had done so many times when he had been a child in her care, and withdrew her hand instantly as she saw how thin it had become.
‘It’s your constant ruffling that’s to blame,’ Caligula snapped. ‘Have a care, woman, just because I’ve bestowed an honour on you one moment doesn’t mean that I won’t demand your death the next. I can treat people any way I want now.’ He stormed off, leaving Antonia looking concerned at Vespasian.
‘It’s worse than I feared,’ she said quietly, ‘he’ll be the death of us all.’
Caligula roared with uncontrolled, high-pitched laughter. ‘Aren’t they priceless?’ he finally managed to get out. ‘I had them sent from Alexandria four years ago, they cost me a fortune, but they’re worth every denarius.’
Vespasian watched politely the antics of a group of naked dwarf acrobats as they performed what he hoped was their finale. The sixteen males had formed a tapering column, five dwarves high, around and up which four females were climbing, using the erect penises of their fellow performers as hand-holds and foot rests, to an accompaniment of frenzied percussion and ululations from a half-dozen wild-eyed female drummers who were hardly any taller than their instruments.
‘Tiberius used to love them,’ Caligula enthused, ‘especially when they all start rutting. Sometimes they just can’t stop themselves.’
‘I can imagine,’ Vespasian said as enthusiastically as possible, hoping that this evening they would find the necessary control. However, judging by the close attention that the females were giving to each one of their hand-holds he was prepared to be disappointed; as disappointed, in fact, as he had been in Caligula’s behaviour towards Antonia all through dinner. He had not wasted a single opportunity to gainsay her or dismiss her opinions such that it was apparent that he was doing it out of bloody-mindedness rather than because he believed her to be wrong. Antonia had borne the insults with an external appearance of indifference even when, having advised him to keep away from his sisters, he had proceeded to describe, in loving detail, exactly what he intended to do with each one of them once they returned to Rome. Vespasian had tried to steer the difficult path between not annoying his power-drunk Emperor and not appearing to be too sycophantic towards him in Antonia’s eyes, but had erred on the side of caution; a predicament that Antonia had, with a few sympathetic looks while Caligula’s attention had been elsewhere, indicated she fully understood.
Caligula’s juvenile enjoyment of the dwarves’ performance for the past half-hour was proving a cringing embarrassment to both of them because he was so obviously revelling in Antonia’s disgust.
‘Gaius, I’m not sure that this is appropriate entertainment for after-dinner,’ Antonia observed, unable to resist a comment any longer. She was peeling an apple while studiously ignoring the acrobats’ gradual ascent.
‘Oh come on, Grandmother, it’s just a bit of fun. It’s very tame compared to some of the acts that Tiberius had on Capreae.’
‘This is not Capreae, Gaius dear, this is Rome, and certain standards need to be kept.’
‘What standards? The standards of aristocrats? Hanging onto sweaty and bloodied boxers, after they’ve fought one another to a standstill, to get a good, rough going over after your guests have left? Those are your standards and I don’t judge them if that’s what you like. I like my dwarves, they make me laugh and I advise you not to criticise me for it because at least I’m honest about it. In fact, I’m probably the only honest man of senatorial or equestrian birth in this hypocritical, Janus-faced city.’
Antonia placed the half-peeled apple on her plate and got to her feet; the airing of her sexual preferences in front of Vespasian had evidently proved too much for her. ‘I don’t criticise you for it, Gaius, I just prefer not to share it. I’m now tired, as is the prerogative of an old and disappointed woman, so I shall bid you both goodnight. It’s been an interesting evening, thank you.’ She walked briskly away, not looking back.
‘I’ll have Vespasian send his man, Magnus, around to cheer you up, Grandmother,’ Caligula shouted as she left the triclinium. With a triumphant laugh he turned back to Vespasian, who was trying not to show the shock and alarm that he felt at being involved in Caligula’s worst jibe of the evening against his benefactress. ‘I think that’s made it perfectly clear as to where she stands with me, don’t you?’
‘I thought that you handled her expertly,’ Vespasian replied, resorting to full-blown sycophancy now that the restraining presence of Antonia had gone and hating himself for it. ‘And you are right: you are the only honest man in Rome.’
Caligula smiled knowingly at Vespasian. ‘Because I’m the only one who can afford to be. The Senate have lived for so long with Augustus’ conceit that they and the Princeps share power, whereas in reality they slavishly proposed and voted for what they deemed to be his and then Tiberius’ will, in the hopes of gaining favour. They’ve forgotten what honesty is; you might just as well have a flock of sheep sitting in the Curia. Well, I’m going to teach the sheep honesty.’
Vespasian thought about giving an honest reply but decided against it. ‘I’m sure you will be a great teacher.’
‘You’re right, old friend, I will be,’ Caligula affirmed, turning his attention back to the dwarf column where the lead female dwarf had now, quite literally, mounted the top while her fellow climbers worked their hand-holds vigorously.
‘Princeps, I have a favour to ask of you,’ Vespasian said, hoping that the approaching climax — in many ways — of Caligula’s favourite act would put him in the mood for granting requests.
‘Vespasian, my good friend, name it.’
‘I have some family business that needs to be taken care of in Egypt. Would you grant me permission to go?’
‘And lose my companion for four or five months? What would I do without you? Get someone else to do it for you, but not a senator as it’s still not safe; apparently the Phoenix has been reborn but hasn’t yet flown east.’
‘I have to go in person, and besides I couldn’t go until my term as aedile has expired at the end of this year,’ Vespasian pointed out, wondering what the Phoenix flying east had to do with senators travelling to Egypt in safety.
‘Well, we shall see, perhaps I’ll have tired of you by then and the Phoenix will have gone. Callistus!’ Caligula’s short and wiry steward, whom Vespasian recognised from his visit to Misenum, came scurrying in. ‘Once my dwarves have finished, call for Clemens and get us some dirty tunics and hooded cloaks.’ Caligula turned back to watch the inevitable, rather messy, finale. ‘I want to go drinking and whoring in the city. We could get Magnus to show us some interesting places; I want to hear what the common people, the honest people, are saying about me.’
‘It won’t be the best you’ve ever drunk here, Magnus,’ the portly tavern-keeper said, thumping down a full jug of wine onto the grimy, wine-stained table, ‘but neither will it be the worst.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be up to your normal standard of gut-rotter, Balbus,’ Magnus replied with a grin as he filled the chipped cups of his three companions.
‘Who’re yer mates? I don’t think I’ve seen them before; not that I can really see their faces.’
