Vespasian: Tribune of Rome (19 page)

Vespasian landed on the cold stone floor, grazing his knees. He could hear a suppressed whimper, as if someone was trying not to scream, coming from somewhere in the dark. Sabinus came dashing in still holding the crowbar.

‘Quick, Caligula, get that lamp in here.’

Caligula did as he was told. The room was low and damp. There was another door in the wall opposite that led to the stairs up to the house. To his left Vespasian could see a small, shaking body covered completely by a blanket. He rushed over and stripped it away,

‘Caenis,’ he whispered, looking down at the trembling form buried in a small pile of straw on the floor; her face was covered by an arm. Vespasian gently touched her hair and the whimpering stopped.

She looked round; disbelief registered in her eyes. ‘You! What are you doing here?’

‘Antonia sent us to get you out. Come on, quick.’

‘Have you got the key?’

‘What key?’

‘For this.’ Caenis lifted her left arm; around the wrist was a manacle attached by a large chain to the wall.

‘Shit! Sabinus, look at this.’

‘Fuck!’

‘What do we do?’

‘Well, we’ll have to get the key, or lop her hand off.’

Caenis’ eyes widened in horror at the suggestion.

‘Very funny, Sabinus,’ Vespasian hissed.

‘I’m serious, how else can we get her out?’

‘There’s a guard at the top of the stairs, he keeps the key,’ Caenis whispered quickly.

‘We can’t break down that door to get him without alerting the whole house, and we need to hurry.’ Sabinus was getting impatient.

‘Then we’ll get him to come here,’ Vespasian whispered urgently. ‘Magnus, close the tunnel door. Caligula, put out the lamp.’

The room descended into complete darkness.

‘Caenis, I want you to start screaming and don’t stop until the guard opens the door. Let’s hope there’s only one of them.’

Caenis had no problems screaming. Soon there was a thump on the door.

‘Shut your noise, you little bitch,’ a gruff voice called from the other side. Caenis went on shrieking. There were a couple more bangs and then they heard the sound of a key being inserted into the lock; the door opened quickly and a man holding a torch burst into the room straight on to the point of Vespasian’s sword. Vespasian’s arm tensed as he drove the point up through the guard’s throat; he dropped gurgling to the floor, dead.

Vespasian snatched up the burning torch. ‘Sabinus, get the key.’

‘Got it!’ Sabinus ripped the key off a bloody string around the dead guard’s neck. He quickly undid the manacle’s lock and helped Caenis up.

More footsteps came clattering down the steps and into the cell burst a bull of a man. Long, oiled black hair fell to his shoulders. His much-battered, pock-marked face was the colour of oak and adorned with a close-clipped goatee beard.

Caenis screamed again. Magnus hurled himself at the door and rammed it into the brute’s face, throwing him back on to the stone steps behind, knocking him senseless.

‘Magnus, Caligula, lock the stair door and pile all the straw you can find against it,’ Vespasian hissed.

It was the work of moments.

‘Let’s go!’

No one needed a second invitation and they dashed through the tunnel door. Vespasian hurled the torch into the pile of straw and pelted after his comrades. They found Pallas and Cassandros waiting nervously. Shouts could be heard coming from the house.

‘They’re on to us. That was a bright idea of yours, little brother, all that screaming. Quick as you like, Caligula,’ Sabinus urged.

‘This way,’ Caligula said, heading off into the sodden night.

Vespasian took Caenis’ arm and followed. From behind him in the house he could hear the shouting intensify.

They stumbled through the moonless garden, crashing into trees and bushes that tore at their clothes and scratched their skins. The shouting was now outside; looking quickly over his shoulder in its direction Vespasian saw, in the distance, three or four torches coming around the side of the house.

‘They’re heading for the tunnel. Once they find the dead guards they’ll be after us,’ he panted as he held on to Caenis, trying to prevent her from tripping.

Caligula stopped abruptly. ‘Here’s the wall. The tree should be to the right, come on.’

The going was slightly easier now that they had the wall to follow, but it seemed to Vespasian that the shouting was growing nearer; he dared not look behind again for fear of tripping. Caenis was gasping for breath at his side as she struggled on, terrified for her life. The wind drove the rain into their faces making it almost impossible for them to keep their eyes open.

After a gut-wrenching length of time Caligula slowed. ‘Thank the gods, we’re here.’

The crossroads brother on the wall chucked the rope down.

‘The girl goes first,’ Sabinus hissed.

Caenis leapt at the rope and with surprising agility hauled herself up and over the wall. As Caligula took his turn Vespasian looked around; the torches were no more than a hundred paces away and closing fast. Pallas and Cassandros scaled quickly, followed by Magnus.

‘Hurry, hurry,’ Sabinus urged. With Magnus over he grabbed Vespasian. ‘Come on, get up there.’

Vespasian clambered up the rope and got to the top of the wall; he could see the torches, now just thirty paces away, and could make out in their orange halos nearly twenty figures. He reached down to help his brother up, hauling him on to the top of the wall and then pulling the rope up behind him as Sabinus jumped down.

‘There they are, get them,’ came a shout from the garden. Vespasian looked up; their pursuers were almost on them, light from their torches illuminating the tree. An instant before he jumped he locked eyes with their leader; he had only seen him once before, from a distance, but recognised him immediately. Sejanus, he thought as he hit the ground.

V
ESPASIAN PICKED HIMSELF
up and sprinted down the alley in his brother’s wake. They found their companions waiting for them on the main street. Apart from them it was completely deserted; the increasingly atrocious weather was keeping even the Night Watch sheltering inside. Back down the alley they could see the torches appearing over the wall as the first Praetorians made it over.

‘Run,’ Sabinus shouted, ‘run like the three-headed hound of Hades is after you.’

They hurtled round the corner and sped down the hill towards Antonia’s house, less than a third of a mile away. The furious speed was too much for Caenis and she slipped on the wet stone surface, falling to the ground with a cry. Vespasian grabbed her arms, pulled her up, threw her over his shoulder and pressed on as fast as he could, aware that the Praetorians had now rounded the corner of the alley and were racing down the hill behind them.

Caligula came skidding to a halt in front of Antonia’s door and thumped on it repeatedly.

‘We’ll carry on down the hill and try to lead them away,’ Magnus called to Sabinus.

‘Good luck,’ he replied as the crossroads brothers disappeared shouting into the night.

The viewing slit slipped back briefly before the door was pulled open and they piled in. Vespasian looked up the hill to see the torches about three hundred paces away. They were safe. On a
night as dark and rainswept as this the Praetorians would never have seen which house they’d gone into; they could only guess, but it would be an easy guess, he was sure. He stepped into the atrium and put Caenis down. The door closed behind him. Completely out of breath he leant against the wall and sucked in the air.

Caligula knelt on the floor next to him, panting also. ‘That – was – brilliant – fun,’ he gasped, looking up at Vespasian with a smirk on his face. ‘What did I tell you? A jolly caper indeed. We should do that more often, my friend.’

Vespasian smiled back at him and held out his hand to help him up as Antonia came running into the room.

‘Thank you, gentlemen,’ she said, seeing Caenis and putting her arms around her. ‘I trust you didn’t have too many problems?’

Caligula grinned widely. ‘Easy as slitting a suckling pig’s throat.’

‘Speak for yourself.’ Sabinus puffed, his chest still heaving from the exertion. Outside they could hear the Praetorians running past following the sound of Magnus and his men down the hill.

Caenis looked round at Vespasian. ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘thank you all.’

Her beautiful eyes gazed at him in admiration. Her wet dress clung to the contours of her body and he felt a surge of desire for her.

Antonia must have sensed this and released Caenis from her grasp. ‘You’d better go and change into something dry. Hurry along, and come and see me when you are warm.’

‘Yes, mistress.’ She bowed her head and left the room. Vespasian’s eyes followed her retreating form hungrily.

Antonia broke the spell. ‘Where’s Magnus?’

‘He and his mates carried on down the hill to lead the Praetorians away.’

‘Good,’ she said, although to Vespasian’s mind there was a hint of disappointment in her eyes. ‘Were any of you seen?’

‘I may have been, domina,’ Vespasian admitted.

Sabinus groaned.

‘I recognised Sejanus as I slipped back over the wall, though I don’t know if there was enough light for him to see me clearly.’

‘Well, at least he doesn’t know you so he can’t have recognised you even if he did see you clearly,’ she replied. ‘But to be safe we’d better get you out of Rome as soon as possible. You, Sabinus and Gaius should stay here for the night. It won’t be wise for you to try to get home now. I imagine that we shall get a visit from our esteemed prefect very shortly; I shall deny everything, of course, it will be most galling for him. He will however have my house watched so we’ll have to smuggle you out tomorrow somehow.’ She looked at Pallas who was standing dripping by the door. ‘Give orders for the floor to be mopped dry and then change into a fresh tunic. There must be no sign of anyone having been outside when Sejanus arrives. And have these gentlemen shown to the guest rooms and provided with dry clothes.’

‘Yes, domina,’ he said, and clapped his hands. Four house slaves appeared from the other end of the atrium. Within moments buckets and mops had arrived and Vespasian, Sabinus and Caligula found themselves being led down a grand corridor to the guest wing.

‘Get changed quickly,’ Caligula said as they were shown their rooms, ‘I want to see how my grandmother deals with Sejanus. She’ll see him in the formal reception room; I know a place where we can listen in to everything that goes on in there.’

Vespasian and Sabinus met up with Caligula in the corridor not long after. He led them quickly down a couple of passages and stopped outside a panelled door painted crimson with black inlays.

‘There’s no lock on this door,’ he said, opening it and stepping into a small room with a curtain on the far wall. ‘The reception room is on the other side of that curtain; let’s take a look.’

He pulled the curtain back a fraction and they put their eyes to the gap. Beyond was beautiful room with a ceiling so high that it was almost in darkness, despite the efforts of the numerous oil lamps scattered around on tables and stands beneath it. Painted wooden chairs with delicately carved backs and legs and couches with cushioned upholstery of lushly coloured fabrics stood ready to receive Antonia’s official visitors.

A slave hurried into the room and looked around, checking that everything was in order; he made a couple of adjustments, repositioning two chairs so that they sat opposite each other either side of a low marble table, and then scuttled away.

Footsteps approached. In came the inscrutable Pallas leading Sejanus, dripping wet. A thin steam rose from his damp tunic and his thick black hair hung in lank clumps around his square-jawed face. He did not look happy.

‘Please take a seat, master,’ Pallas crooned, every ounce of Greek courtesy being used to the full. ‘The Lady Antonia will be with you presently; she has been in bed these past couple of hours.’

‘I’ll bet she has,’ Sejanus growled.

‘She told me to tell you that she will dress as fast as possible so as not to keep your eminence waiting too long. Would you care for some refreshment, master?’

‘No! Now get out of here and leave me alone, you smarmy little Greek cum-stain.’

Pallas bowed and beat a dignified retreat leaving Sejanus looking around the room. He picked up and admired a couple of bronze statuettes that were on the table and then, placing them back down again, started a slow walk around the room. They watched him as he inspected the furniture and ran appreciative hands over the statues and busts. He was directly opposite them when he noticed the curtain and started to move towards it.

‘Quick, out,’ Caligula hissed, leaping back. They slipped out of
the door just as the curtains were ripped apart, and darted into the nearest room.

‘It would have been nasty coming face to face with Sejanus in that sort of mood,’ Gaius said, quickly closing the door of the unlit room. They heard footsteps out in the corridor.

‘Hades! There’s no lock on this one either,’ he said, running his hands up and down the door in the dark. ‘Quick, lean against it.’

They pressed their bodies hard against it; a few moments later they heard the door to the room they’d just vacated open and close. Purposeful footsteps approached their door and they felt the pressure of someone trying to open it from the outside. The pressure grew; they braced themselves harder against it.

‘Prefect, there you are.’ Antonia’s voice came from the end of the corridor.

The pressure ceased suddenly and they slumped against the door.

‘My dear Sejanus, what are you doing trying to get into that room?’

‘Don’t give me that “my dear Sejanus” rubbish. Someone was spying on me and they ran in there.’

‘Impossible, that room is always kept locked.’

‘How? I see no keyhole.’

‘It’s bolted on the inside. It can be accessed only from the library on the other side. Now, enough of this foolishness; tell me why you’ve had me dragged from my bed in the middle of the night?’