Rome's Lost Son(18)

Vespasian chilled but then felt a surge of hope. ‘Perhaps with his tutor’s death, I’ve got a good excuse to find an alternative for Titus.’

‘I’m afraid not; Britannicus’ education and that of his companions has now been entrusted to Seneca. Claudius has managed to put Britannicus in even more danger by giving him to the one man whom Agrippina respects and Nero actually listens to. Because Seneca’s as ruthless as the two of them in the pursuit of power he will share their view that Britannicus is an obstacle. Whatever you thought of Sosibius, at least he provided some sort of protection from those three.’

Vespasian took the point and began to wish that the odious tutor had not been so summarily dealt with.

‘So, Claudius will condemn his own son to death by making Nero his heir and that poisonous little snake does everything his mother tells him to.’ Narcissus re-steepled his fingers and looked meaningfully at each of them in turn. ‘Everything. And she gets him to do everything she asks because she in turn does everything that he asks of her; and I can tell you, gentlemen, that his requests are far removed from what a son should ask of his mother.’

Vespasian shuddered at the image but, having seen Nero snuggling up to Agrippina and resting his head on her breast that afternoon, it did not come as much of a shock to him. In fact, he reflected, after what he had seen with Tiberius and Caligula, that there was very little that the imperial family could now do to shock him. Caligula had made free with all his sisters, Agrippina amongst them; why should she not go further than him and do the same with her son? But then how would the Senate and people of Rome take to having such an unnatural couple rule over them? And if Nero felt free to bed his own mother, what depravity would not be beyond him?

From the bar the clapping and cheering had reached a crescendo; a successful conclusion to the business was clearly imminent.

Narcissus raised his voice, slightly, over the noise. ‘One of the first conditions that she will extract from Nero for her acquiescence to his unhealthy demands once he becomes emperor will be my death; and that, gentlemen, is something that I intend to avoid.’ Narcissus paused for a sip of wine, frowned his disapproval at the vintage, or lack of it, and then dabbed his lips with a handkerchief. ‘Now, interestingly, you two find yourselves with a similar, if not quite so potentially fatal, problem.’ Narcissus indicated to his freedman with a fractional head movement. ‘Agarpetus came across some very interesting intelligence from the trierarchus of a trading ship just back from the Kingdom of Colchis on the eastern coast of the Euxine. It would seem a Parthian embassy passed through Phasis, the major port of Colchis, towards the end of September heading home by way of the Kingdoms of Iberia and Albania and then across the Caspian Sea, thus skirting very close to the north of our client kingdom of Armenia.

‘Now, that may be nothing in itself: the Parthians are often sending embassies to the tribes and kingdoms around the Euxine and our traders are always reporting them; we pay well for the information. But what caught Agarpetus’ eye was an earlier report intercepted from one of Agrippina’s people that he had killed an agent, as he had been ordered, very soon after the man had informed the Governor of Moesia that a Parthian embassy to the tribes beyond the Danuvius had arrived in Tyra, just to the north of that province, and therefore this agent had been prevented from getting the news to his pay-master; unfortunately we don’t know who that was. This happened, as I said, in September, at the end of which month, incidentally, our puppet king in Armenia was subject to an invasion led by his nephew. It’s a reasonable assumption that this was the same embassy and it’s also reasonable to assume from their route home that on their way to the Danuvius they passed through Iberia. Now, Iberia was the base for this invasion that has since managed to topple the Armenian King.’ Narcissus raised an eyebrow at his audience and braved another sip of wine as a massive cheer broke out next door.

Vespasian saw Narcissus’ implication immediately. ‘Therefore the Parthians could have triggered the Armenian usurpation on their way through and Sabinus must have failed to kill or capture them, even though he had been warned about their presence.’

‘It would seem that way; very careless, wouldn’t you say?’ Narcissus dabbed his lips again; the noise level from the tavern had dropped back down to laughter and boisterous conversation. ‘If we had a chance to question them we would know the object of their mission to the northern tribes and, more importantly, we would know for sure if Parthia is once again trying to destabilise Armenia. Still, it’s done now and one can only hope that the consequences aren’t too … er … disastrous for Rome – or indeed, for Sabinus and perhaps even his family?’