‘Father!’ Titus called as he entered the garden with Magnus shortly after Pallas had left. With a distinct lack of decorum he ran to Vespasian, who stood and returned his son’s embrace with equal measure.
Making a conscious effort not to comment on how much Titus had grown or coming out with any of the other stock phrases that always seem to accompany a reunion with a child after some considerable time, Vespasian took his son by the shoulders and held him at arm’s length, admiring him.
‘I nearly choked when he was let in,’ Magnus said. ‘I thought it was you at the age when we first met.’
‘There’s no denying your paternity, Vespasian,’ Gaius added, pleased to have a pleasant family observation to make to take his mind off what Pallas had revealed.
Titus was indeed the younger image of his father, stocky, round-faced with a prominent nose and humorous eyes; the one difference was that he lacked the permanent strained expression, as if he was having difficulty at stool, which Vespasian had developed during his time commanding the II Augusta.
‘I thought we’d lost you, Father,’ Titus said after a few moments of staring at each other.
Vespasian fingered Titus’ toga praetexta, the purple-bordered toga worn by magistrates as well as boys who had not yet come of age. ‘You’ll be fifteen in December, won’t you, Titus?’
‘Yes, Father.’
‘Then we’d better do something about this. Tomorrow I shall declare you to be a man.’
Titus beamed at Vespasian. ‘Thank you, Father. May I ask Britannicus to come and witness it?’
‘Lunch is ready, master,’ Gaius’ steward announced from the door.
Gaius’ face lit up. ‘At last, Ewald; I’m famished.’
Vespasian put his arm around Titus’ shoulder and led him towards the house. ‘I must insist upon you not seeing Britannicus for a while, Titus.’
‘But what about our lessons together and our riding and sword play?’
‘They’re going to have to be suspended.’
Titus stopped and looked at his father as Magnus and Gaius walked on. ‘Are you telling me that Nero is about to become emperor?’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Because I know what will happen; Britannicus told me. Claudius will be assassinated, Nero will become emperor and Britannicus’ life will be over. He’s no fool, Britannicus. He knows that Claudius must die before he comes of age in order for Nero to become emperor unopposed; it’s obvious, therefore, that he’ll be assassinated sometime in the New Year. I assume that you telling me that I’ve got to break my ties with Britannicus is because you’ve found out about the assassination. Pallas’ presence here means that he’s told you so that you can be prepared to work for him in the Senate, supporting Nero.’
Vespasian was astounded. ‘Did you work all that out yourself?’
‘The part about the reason for Pallas being here, yes, but all the rest was with Britannicus.’
‘Has he told his father?’
Titus was dismissive. ‘Of course; but Claudius won’t listen and just laughs it off and says “good luck to you, my boy” as if Fortuna can postpone the inevitable. He’s told Britannicus that once he reaches his fourteenth birthday he’ll change his will and make Britannicus his heir instead of Nero.’ Titus gave a grim chuckle. ‘Claudius is as stupid as Britannicus is clever and if Claudius chooses to do nothing then both their deaths will be inevitable. Britannicus does get some comfort from the fact that his idiot father will die before him; but I’ll get no comfort from losing my friend who helped me keep my mind off you when we thought you were …’ Titus trailed off, evidently embarrassed to display such sentiments.
‘You mustn’t say a word of this to anyone, Titus.’
‘Of course not, Father; unlike Claudius, I’m blessed with a brain.’
Vespasian looked into his son’s eyes, assessing him for the first time as an adult and not a child any more. ‘Yes, I can see that, and so I will trust you. You’re right: Pallas is planning Claudius’ death and Nero’s ascension. I will aid him for two reasons: firstly, I have no choice, and secondly, even if I did have a choice, I believe that this is the best for our family. So your friend’s life is over, I’m afraid.’
Anger flared for a brief moment in Titus’ eyes and the muscles in his jaw pulsed; he took a deep breath. ‘Now do you see how important it is for Britannicus to be present at my coming of age ceremony, Father? He’s never going to have his own so he would dearly love to see mine.’