‘Yes, well, my status is not in question. I’ve been given Asia and the promise of another military command soon; there’s a growing worry about the stability of our client kingdom of Armenia and with my experience I’m obviously the best man for the job.’
‘I’m sure you are, Corbulo,’ Vespasian agreed without much enthusiasm.
‘You don’t seem very pleased for me. Have you been given Bithynia or somewhere equally as unprestigious? Not that it would be surprising, your family being what they are; I was very surprised when I heard that Sabinus had been given Moesia, Macedonia and Thracia.’
Vespasian was used to Corbulo’s snobbishness, having known him for twenty-five years since they served together as military tribunes in the IIII Scythica during the Thracian revolt; but that did not make it any easier to swallow. ‘Yes, it was a surprise seeing as we are New Men and at the time our family could only boast one consulship; but it’s even more surprising that, now we can boast two, I don’t get given a province and yet you, whose family is far older than ours and yet has only achieved the consulship once, if I recall, get given a second province.’ Vespasian hid his amusement as Corbulo harrumphed at the dig. ‘But I am pleased for you, Corbulo; although I confess that I’m surprised that you’ve heard about trouble in Armenia. It hasn’t been discussed in the Senate.’
Corbulo took Vespasian’s elbow and pulled him closer, away from the lictors. ‘That’s because officially there isn’t any trouble there and Mithridates, our client king, is still on the throne.’
‘That’s what I’m aware of officially. And unofficially I know that he’s been deposed but I don’t know the details.’
Corbulo’s smug expression reached new heights as he revelled in being in the possession of superior knowledge. ‘Unofficially, three months ago at the beginning of October, Mithridates was defeated by a young upstart with the uncouth name of Radamistus, the son of King Pharasmanes of neighbouring Iberia. Obviously we detect Parthian money behind Radamistus as nothing happens in Armenia without either their or our collusion.’
‘And we wouldn’t depose our own puppet.’
‘Quite, not even … well, I won’t say who is that stupid. Anyway, I’m told that if diplomacy fails then an invasion may be required and my military experience makes me the obvious choice for leading it.’
‘And what would happen if diplomacy failed and, the gods forbid, you didn’t restore Mithridates by military force and Armenia became a Parthian client kingdom?’
Corbulo frowned, unable to comprehend something so outrageously implausible. ‘I won’t fail.’
‘Yes, yes, of course you won’t, Corbulo. But let’s just say, for example, that the Emperor sent someone else, not of your calibre, who did fail, and Armenia came back under Parthian sway for the first time since Tiberius; what then?’
‘Then the Emperor would have to send me out to redress the matter.’ A loud bleating noise erupting from deep in Corbulo’s gorge alerted Vespasian, who recognised the symptoms, to the fact that Corbulo had attempted levity. It soon passed. ‘But seriously; if that were to happen then we would have a very serious situation. Parthia would soon have access to the Euxine and a Parthian fleet in that sea threatening the Bosphorus with the possibility of breaking out into Our Sea is not something that we would wish to contemplate.’
More than that, Vespasian thought as they arrived at the court, they would also have access to the Danuvius and therefore to the heart of Europa. He stopped close to the imperial litter awaiting Claudius and admired Narcissus’ ability to construct a viable narrative out of so few facts and wondered briefly what connection Agrippina could have with Iberia, Armenia and a Parthian embassy to the trans-Danuvius.
‘And as for you, you’re a stupid old fool!’
Vespasian looked up in the direction whence the yelling came to see a lawyer hurl his stylus and wax tablets.
Claudius yelped and ducked as the missiles narrowly missed him.
‘A curse on your idiotic, cruel judgements!’ the lawyer continued with rising venom. ‘How can you admit the evidence of a woman, a common prostitute at that, against a member of the equestrian class?’ He pointed indignantly at the defendant standing in the well of the court; seated beyond him were the fifty jurists, all fellow equestrians, looking in outrage at their Emperor and the overly painted woman, dressed in the masculine toga that symbolised her profession, standing before him.
Vespasian sighed and shook his head, looking at Corbulo. ‘It’s been getting worse in the past couple of years. From all accounts he drinks himself senseless every evening and it seems to be making him more and more erratic.’