Rome's Lost Son(45)

‘And all for the cost of three expendable ships.’ Tryphaena looked genuinely pleased at the exposure of her duplicity and took Vespasian by the arm and led him inside. ‘Antonia did train you well after all. Now I shall put all that training to good use.’

‘And why should I serve your cause?’

‘Because, proconsul, you would be foolish not to and I don’t think you are a foolish person. Now, how are your powers of suggestion? Because the procurator of Cappadocia, Julius Paelignus, is the key to this.’

Grey clouds rolled in on a northeasterly wind, thickening over the trireme’s masthead as if the incoming thunderstorm was aimed at that vessel alone and anything else that it hit was peripheral. Thunder rumbled with brooding menace across the Euxine and over the mountains of Pontus. The coastline showed the same threatening intent: high, dark cliffs rose from an unsettled sea, jagged teeth of rock at their base waiting to gnaw hungrily on any hull driven onto them by Poseidon’s malice, Fortuna’s whim or just plain bad seamanship.

Magnus pulled his cloak tight about his shoulders, his grey hair lank with spray as he looked with angst at the looming shore a quarter of a mile away to starboard and coming ever closer. Vespasian, standing next to Magnus at the starboard rail, glanced back at the trierarchus, positioned between the steering-oars; the deck bucked once more and all lurched in an effort to remain upright. The trierarchus scanned the endless procession of cliffs, his face set grim as the steersmen to either side battled to keep the two steering-oars’ blades straight in order to prevent any more drift towards the sure death that lurked so close to them.

‘He can’t see anywhere safe to heave-to,’ Vespasian said, his voice raised against the growing storm.

‘Then we should run before the wind,’ Magnus opined through clenched teeth.

‘What makes you a nautical expert all of a sudden?’

‘Logic: if you can’t fight against something then go with it.’

At that moment the trierarchus evidently came to the same conclusion and screamed a stream of orders through his speaking trumpet that sent the cowering crew scuttling barefoot to all points of the deck. Ropes were unsheeted and hauled upon as the steersmen pushed their oars to starboard and, as the trireme came round, a small section of the bow sail was unfurled; the leather immediately ballooned, pumped by the wind that drove the ship before it faster than it had done for the last five days. Five days since they had dropped Sabinus and Gaius – along with the untrustworthy lictors, despite Tryphaena’s request – at Byzantium and begun the long pull along the coast of Bithynia, Paphlagonia and then Pontus. Five days in which Vespasian had tried to get to grips with the magnitude of what Tryphaena had asked him to do; no, not asked, ordered. And it had been an order that he could not refuse because to have done so would have spelt disaster for him and his family. Gone had been the kindly Queen who had helped him when he had been a young military tribune in Thracia; now he could see that she had only been kindly because he had been working for Antonia’s, and therefore her own, agenda. It had not been threats that had bent him to her will; it had been bald statements of fact.

Fact: his family were not well established and could revert to the status of the rural poor within two generations if Tryphaena’s two families decided to make it so. Fact: however Tryphaena’s scheme ended, either Pallas’ or Narcissus’ life would be forfeit, leaving the survivor in Tryphaena’s debt and Vespasian would benefit from that. Fact: that what he was to do would ultimately benefit Rome and, although it could never be made public knowledge, his participation would eventually be whispered in the right people’s ears and in the meantime he could console himself with the thought of service for the greater good. But there had been one other reason why he had finally decided to do Tryphaena’s bidding and that was not a fact but, rather, a hunch; and it was a hunch that he kept to himself.

But he had not been fooled into feeling safe and that was why he had entrusted Gaius with a letter to Caenis. If something should go wrong with what he planned to do and he was exposed and killed, she would be able to make sure that his reasons for acting as he did would not remain secret as Tryphaena would wish. Gaius would wait out the year with Sabinus in his provinces before returning to Rome next spring with Vespasian, all being well, and if not, then with just the letter.

As the ship began to run fast with the gathering wind, carrying him swiftly towards his destination, Vespasian felt a strange relief; the gale was hastening what he must do. If his mission went well, Tryphaena would reward him and Corbulo would have the military command that he desired.