Rome's Lost Son(28)

Claudius adjusted his toga in an attempt to restore some dignity but still managed to look shambolic. ‘C-c-curse me if you like, b-b-but keep your hands off!’

‘The trouble is,’ Vespasian continued as he watched Claudius unroll and read a legal document, ‘that because he has such respect for the ways of our ancestors and the law he believes that he should run the courts as if there was still a Republic. He allows all the mud-slinging and insults and generally gets made to look a complete fool and does nothing to punish people who abuse him.’ Claudius rubbed his bloodshot eyes and then squinted at the small script. ‘During the hearings, that is,’ Vespasian added. ‘Outside the courts anyone who mocks him is liable to find themselves on a capital charge and given one more opportunity to mock him in court before being executed.’

With shaking hands, Claudius rolled up the scroll. ‘I w-w-will allow her evid-d-d-dence and I will also pronounce my judgement based upon it.’

The defence layer slammed a fist down on his desk. ‘Her testimony is even less reliable than that of the lowliest citizen, you fool.’ The scores of spectators, mostly ordinary citizens, surrounding the court took umbrage at this slur – as they saw it – on their honesty and began shouting abuse at the lawyer. Claudius again ignored the insult, handed the document to a clerk and then rummaged through a pile of scrolls and wax tablets in front of him.

‘But then he forgets his Republican sentiments,’ Vespasian continued, ‘and decides that his opinion is the only one that counts and makes unilateral decisions bypassing the jury.’

‘I find the d-d-defendant.’ Claudius paused as he scanned another scroll. ‘D-D-Didius Gaetullus, guilty of paying for services in this honest lady’s establishment with forged coinage and I advise the jury to do likewise.’

There was a huge cheer from the spectators who had taken the lawyer’s remark to heart and were now only too pleased to see a man of higher status convicted, whether it be on spurious evidence or not.

‘So whose patronage do you have to thank for this new appointment?’ Vespasian asked while the jury voted.

‘Ah!’ Corbulo looked around to make sure that no one was within earshot and lowered his voice. ‘That is the strange thing and I was hoping that, as the sitting consul, you could help me understand it.’

‘I doubt it, Corbulo, seeing as yesterday was the first time that I’d heard anything about this Armenia problem.’

‘Well, try. All the correspondence has come to me using the imperial relay system. However, even though the despatches bear the imperial seal none has been signed by Claudius or by one of his freedmen in his name, as would be normal. I questioned all the couriers and they insisted that they had received the despatches from the palace but had always been given them by a low-ranking functionary.’

‘That’s not unusual.’

‘I agree; but I’ve never received orders bearing the Emperor’s seal without his signature or one of his freedmen’s on them.’

‘So why did you believe them to be genuine?’

‘I wasn’t sure until my replacement turned up with a mandate from the Emperor.’

‘Guilty!’ the lead juror replied to Claudius’ question.

‘You see,’ Vespasian muttered, ‘they’ll condemn one of their own rather than go against the Emperor’s will; even if the evidence is suspect.’

Corbulo looked at the whore in disgust; the smile on her face was one of pure vindictive pleasure as she glared at the defendant who held his head in his hands. ‘It’s a disgrace taking her word above that of a wealthy man.’

Claudius finished writing the verdict on the relevant scroll and then addressed the court. ‘I shall now pronounce sentence. I—’

‘He’s a forger!’ someone in the crowd shouted. ‘He should have his hands cut off.’

Claudius’ head jerked a couple of times as he tried to locate the source of the suggestion.

‘It’s the way of our ancestors!’ a different voice reminded the Emperor, not untruthfully.

The defendant took his hands from his face, stared at them and then at Claudius in horror as he seemed to consider the unsolicited counsel. The horror on his face then blended with terror as Claudius began to nod, his mind evidently settled on the justice of the punishment. ‘D-D-Didius Gaetullus, I condemn you to a life without hands to prevent you from putting them to ill-use again. S-seize him and s-s-summon the executioner.’

Uproar ensued as the hapless man was secured; the spectators, scenting pain and blood, cheering the Emperor for his wisdom while the jurors made known their rage at the barbarity of the punishment on the man whom they did not have the courage to acquit.