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Rome's Lost Son(114)



Any thoughts about what Galba was doing seated with the Vitellii were pushed from Vespasian’s mind a moment later when his gaze alighted on the man responsible for his two-year exclusion from the human race: Paelignus. The runt of a procurator almost yelped in surprise as their eyes met; Paelignus evidently had no idea that Vespasian was alive, let alone back in Rome, and the way his eyes flicked around the chamber, as if looking for the nearest exit, brought a smile to Vespasian’s face. He nodded at him politely, the smile becoming toothy, and wagged his forefinger at him a couple of times, as if admonishing a naughty child. He was going to enjoy this, Vespasian decided; he would make him suffer before he killed him.

A communal gasp of shock jerked Vespasian back to the matter of Claudius’ speech. Claudius had paused and the few in his audience who had been paying some sort of attention were staring at him with unbelieving countenances while the majority of the Senate were trying to ascertain from neighbours the cause of the astonishment.

Vespasian turned to Gaius, next to him. ‘What did he say, Uncle?’

‘I’ve no idea, dear boy, but one look at the expressions of Pallas and Narcissus should be enough to tell you who has gained from whatever it was.’

Narcissus had the closest Vespasian had ever seen to a smirk on one corner of his mouth, whereas Pallas’ right eye was twitching irregularly.

‘However, I shall g-g-g-go further than that,’ Claudius went on. ‘I p-p-publicly thank my adopted son, Nero, for being pr-pr-prepared to shoulder the responshibilities of my office had I been called to the F-f-f-ferryman; but now ash my natural son, Britannicush, approaches the time when he shall take the toga virilish, Nero has no need to worry himself about taking on the onerous tasks of the Pr-pr-pr-princeps. I release him from that duty with my gratitude and I know that as my adopted son and son-in-law he will support Britannicus when the time comes and be a shoulder of strength for him to lean on.’

Claudius paused again, no doubt thinking that there should be some acknowledgement of the fair and just sentiments that he had expressed. However, there was nothing but a low mumbling as men checked with their neighbours that they had heard correctly.

‘I think the time is coming very, very soon,’ Gaius muttered.

Vespasian just stared at the fool on the curule chair as he continued to hasten his own death by an ill-judged, drunken speech; Gaius had not exaggerated Claudius’ mental decline.

‘That b-b-b-being the case, I feel that it would be right of me to d-divorce my wife, Agrippina, and replace her with someone lessh partial to also act as a guide for Britannicus after I am gone, so I would ask you, C-c-c-consh-script Fathers, to put your minds to thinking of a suitable candidate; someone of high birth, with intelligence, feminine skills and b-b-beauty would pleashe me.’

‘I can almost hear the sound of Agrippina mixing her potions,’ Vespasian whispered.

‘This must be the longest suicide note in history,’ Gaius ventured, staring with barely concealed incredulity at Claudius.

‘I would also ask you, C-c-conscript Fathers, to conshider what rewards should be voted Nero and Agrippina for their service to the Empire; b-b-bronze statues in the Forum, perhaps? Or maybe a gift of land in one of the provinces; perhaps both. I leave it to you. In the meantime, until Britannicush’s fourteenth birthday, you should treat Nero as my heir and honour him as you would honour me. Conscript Fathers, I thank you all for your k-k-kind attention and look forward to hearing the results of your d-deliberations.’ With that he rolled up his scroll and looked around the Senate as if he was expecting thunderous applause for one of the most dexterous and far-sighted pieces of politics ever announced in the ancient chamber.

All that met him was utter and silent astonishment.

And then one senator, less dumbfounded than all the rest, slowly began to clap and then stopped suddenly, realising that to show support for Claudius’ announcement was to invite a death sentence from Nero who would now surely be emperor, if not in a matter of hours then certainly within the next couple of days.

Of that, everybody in the room was sure; even Narcissus, who now stared at his patron with undisguised horror. Pallas, next to him, had his face set resolute; his timetable had just been brought forward considerably.

With a quick glance between them, the two freedmen jumped up from their chairs and walked from the Curia, one on the left-hand side, the other on the right, so that they left at the same time but not together. Claudius watched them go, twitching in confusion, and then got to his feet, steadied himself on the arm of his chair while taking deep breaths and then lurched out after them.