Rome's Lost Son(104)

‘To finance the invasion of Armenia. Pah! Gaius Ummidius Quadratus, the Governor of Syria, and Gaius Domitius Corbulo, the Governor of Asia, have been ordered to retake that kingdom; however, they haven’t been given sufficient finances so Quadratus suggested that if Damascus were to be added to his province it would go some way to covering the shortfall. The Emperor agreed and so I am expected to finance the war against the Parthians in Armenia. Pah!’

Vespasian mused for a few moments on how wide and varied were the consequences of Tryphaena’s self-serving scheme to secure both sides of her family in power and then dismissed the thoughts as irrelevant. Power and fortune could never be spread evenly and if it was not Malichus who was suffering, it would only be someone else; as long as it was not himself or his family then Vespasian did not much care who it was. ‘So if I try to get you citizenship, what favour will you do me in return?’

‘Apart from not charging a toll on this caravan?’

‘Yes, apart from that; this is not my caravan.’

Malichus grinned again. ‘I shall send you a gift before you depart for Rome.’

Marcus Antonius Felix embraced Vespasian formally at the top of the steps leading up to Herod the Great’s palace in the modern port-city of Caesarea. A fanfare of horns greeted the distinguished visitor. As the music died away Felix declaimed the ritual welcoming in the Emperor’s name to a man of consular rank. Vespasian replied, equally as ceremoniously, thanking the procurator for his words and avowing his loyalty to the Emperor. With a thunderous crash, the cohort of chain-mailed auxiliaries, formed up in the agora before the palace with their standards fluttering above them in the sultry sea breeze, came to attention and then hailed the Emperor, the procurator and then finally Vespasian. The formalities over, Felix led Vespasian into the kingly palace that was now the residence for Rome’s representative in the province.

‘You come in troubled times, my friend,’ Felix said as they entered the cool of the interior.

‘I would think so, judging by the amount of occupied crosses I saw outside the city’s gates,’ Vespasian replied, easing his hastily borrowed toga away from his left shoulder to allow some of the trapped heat to escape; it was not the ideal garment for high summer in Judaea.

‘There are even more outside Jerusalem.’

‘We avoided that city; Sabinus’ description of it from when he served as quaestor there didn’t enamour me of it.’

‘A sensible decision. I hate going there; I just get swamped by the bigoted self-interest of all the various religious factions. It’s impossible to make a judgement without mortally offending at least half of the population. I’ve found that the best policy is to show no mercy; any offence against the rule of Rome is punished by death and I’ll only repeal the sentence for a large financial consideration.’

Vespasian looked sidelong at the procurator; it was the first time he had seen him without a beard. Felix, unlike his older brother Pallas, had evidently decided to Romanise his appearance now that he had achieved such exalted rank. ‘You must be doing very well out of it then, Felix?’

Felix smiled; it was a pleasant smile that reached his eyes. ‘I need to have some reward for dealing with these people. But I mustn’t complain too much; this was the best that my brother could do for me. No freedman has ever been made a procurator before so I suppose it’s no surprise that I was given a shit-hole that nobody else wanted.’

‘And how is Pallas?’

‘He’s well; he’s still in favour with both Claudius and Agrippina and has been able to perform some substantial services for Nero. I think he’s very well set.’

‘Set for what?’

‘Suffice it to say that Nero married Julia Octavia, Claudius’ daughter, at the beginning of this month.’

Vespasian immediately understood the implication; Agrippina and Pallas had finally got their way. ‘That would make Nero’s claim to the Purple over Britannicus very hard to refute. Pallas must be very pleased.’

‘Yes, he is. He wrote to ask me to emphasise to you the importance of seeing him before you see Narcissus or anyone else, including Caenis, upon your return.’

Vespasian was astounded. ‘How did he know that I’d be coming here? I’ve been imprisoned in Parthia for the last two years.’

Felix shrugged. ‘You’ll have to ask him; all I know is that I’ve been looking out for you for the last two moons.’

‘The whole of the East seems to be seething with insurrection but no place more than here in Judaea,’ Felix told Vespasian as they looked out over the magnificent harbour of Caesarea; a trireme, its oars spread wide and dipping in time to the faint whistle of the oar-master’s flute, manoeuvred with swan-like grace through the channel between the two great man-made moles that protected the port from the ravages of the open sea beyond. But this evening that sea was placid and the only thing to disturb its surface was the golden reflection of the setting sun, which caused Vespasian to squint as it glowed warm on the bellies of the cawing gulls circling above him, riding gentle, salt-tanged breezes.