‘Thrasyllus, my friend,’ Tiberius called in Greek as they approached the cliff-edge, ‘is it an auspicious time to make changes? I must know because a change needs to be made.’
Thrasyllus turned to face the Emperor. ‘The stars say that you are the master of change, Princeps,’ he replied in a melodramatic, quavering voice. ‘You are here to oversee the greatest change of alclass="underline" the dawn of the new age. Even now the Phoenix is preparing to fly to Egypt, the country of my birth, where in three years’ time flames will consume it and it will be reborn from the ashes of its body; a new five-hundred-year cycle will commence. The world will change, and you, Princeps, through your wisdom and greatness, will guide the Empire through that change.’
‘I’ll wait three years then,’ Tiberius said suddenly deflated.
Vespasian glanced at Caligula in alarm, concerned that the astrologer would deflect Tiberius from his purpose.
‘You may find that the waiting will play on your peace of mind, Nuncle,’ his young friend said; his voice oozed concern. ‘I think that the venerable Thrasyllus was talking about major changes, not the little one that you plan now.’
‘Of course he was, my sweet,’ Tiberius agreed, relieved. ‘If I don’t do this now I won’t live to see the firebird. Thrasyllus, consult your books.’
The astrologer bowed. ‘I will have an answer for you by morning, Princeps,’ he said theatrically. With a brief glance at Caligula he turned and headed back up the path.
Looking pleased with himself, Tiberius sat down on a stone bench that overlooked the narrow passage between Capreae and the mainland, dominated by the brooding Mount Vesuvius. Caligula went to sit next to him whilst the rest of the group placed themselves nervously behind them, uncomfortable at being so close to the cliff’s edge in Tiberius’ company.
It was past noon and the day had warmed up considerably; the sun beat down upon the Tyrrhenian Sea sending an everchanging multitude of sparkles reflecting up off its deep blue, undulating surface. Gulls soared above them calling balefully as they rode the currents of the fresh sea breeze.
‘I wish that I could fly like them, my sweet,’ Tiberius declared, admiring the agile birds. ‘There must surely be peace as you glide through the air.’
It was not the sort of conversation that Vespasian had hoped for in this situation.
‘Yes, Nuncle, but we will never know it,’ Caligula replied guardedly, as if he had had this conversation many times before and knew the conclusion.
Tiberius remained silent for a while contemplating the gulls. ‘I hate the limitations of this body,’ he said suddenly with passion. ‘I’m master of the changing world yet I am earthbound.’
‘We should go and play with the fishies, Nuncle,’ Caligula said in an effort to change the subject.
‘Ah, the fishies, yes, yes, we should,’ Tiberius replied, rising to his feet. ‘We must say goodbye to your friend first.’ He turned to face Vespasian. ‘Go with my thanks and prayers,’ he said formally. ‘Clemens will escort you to the port on my authority.’
They bowed their heads and, with communal relief, turned to go.
‘Wait!’ Tiberius shouted. ‘Who is this?’ He pointed his finger at Magnus. ‘I haven’t seen him before; he must be an intruder, perhaps even another fisherman. Clemens, have your men throw him off the cliff.’
‘Nuncle, that is Magnus, he’s a friend of my friend; he’s been with us all the time.’
‘I’ve not spoken with him, I don’t know him; Clemens, do as I command.’
Caligula signalled them to remain silent as Fulvius and Rufinus grabbed Magnus’ arms and pushed him forward. Magnus looked beseechingly at Vespasian as he struggled in their grip. Vespasian and the rest of them watched aghast as Magnus was forced towards certain death.
‘I knew there was a reason for coming here, my sweet,’ Tiberius crooned in pleasure. ‘I do so enjoy the look of terror in a man’s eyes just before he flies through the air.’
‘Yes I know, Nuncle,’ Caligula replied as Magnus was nearing the edge, ‘but you also like to hear them scream as well; this one’s a brave one, he’s not screaming or pleading.’
‘You’re right, my sweet, he’s not.’
‘But I know one who will.’
‘Then we should throw him over.’
‘That’s a good idea, Nuncle. Clemens, have your men fetch that priest immediately,’ Caligula ordered.
Clemens understood. ‘Fulvius, get the priest right now.’
Fulvius and Rufinus let go of Magnus, who was left shaking on the brink of the cliff, and ran back towards the villa.
‘I’ll say goodbye to my friend whilst we wait, Nuncle; he should go and take all his companions with him, to get your message to Antonia as soon as possible.’
‘Yes, yes, my sweet,’ Tiberius replied absently, his attention back on the gulls. ‘And then we can play with the fishies.’
‘Good idea, Nuncle,’ Caligula said, whilst hurriedly pulling Magnus back from the edge. ‘I’ll see you there once they’ve gone.’
Caligula led them swiftly back up the path, past the romping fishies. Screams had started up inside the villa.
‘Clemens, take them out through the main gate, they’ll never get over the wall unseen in daylight,’ Caligula said as Fulvius and Rufinus appeared with a screaming Rhoteces between them hopping on his remaining foot.
‘Thank you, my friend,’ Vespasian said with heartfelt gratitude, ‘I don’t know how you manage to live here.’
‘It’s not all bad.’ Caligula grinned. ‘The fishies are fun.’
As they passed Rhoteces, Vespasian took a last quick look at his revolting weasel face and felt a huge surge of satisfaction.
‘That’s a fair swap,’ Magnus said, still looking very pale, ‘him for me. I’d take that any day.’
‘It could have been any one of us,’ Sabinus observed as they climbed the steps.
‘Or all of you,’ Caligula pointed out, stopping at the top. ‘I’ve seen it happen. Pallas, tell my grandmother that I’ll try and keep Tiberius focused on Sejanus.’
‘I will, Master Gaius,’ Pallas said with a bow.
‘And don’t worry about Thrasyllus, the old charlatan will declare it an auspicious time to make changes once I tell him that one of them is that his son-in-law is going to become Praetorian prefect. Now go quickly before he decides that he’d rather spend the rest of the morning throwing people off the cliff instead of playing with the fishies.’
Vespasian clasped Caligula’s forearm and, as he turned to follow Clemens, he heard the sound that he had been looking forward to: a scream, long and shrill and gradually fading until it was abruptly curtailed.
PART VI
CHAPTER XVIII
‘The Senate are in a state of total confusion,’ Paetus declared, throwing a heavy stuffed leather ball at Vespasian. ‘One day Tiberius sends them a letter complimenting Sejanus for his loyal service and then the next he intervenes in a court case that Sejanus has brought against one of his many enemies, ordering it to be dropped.’ He grunted as he recaught the ball and threw it back again, hard, at Vespasian. ‘And not just dropped but also granting the defendant immunity against further prosecutions.’
‘Yet he’s conferred a priesthood on Sejanus and on his eldest son, Strabo,’ Sabinus said, straining as he lay on his back on a wooden bench exercising his arms and chest by lifting two large, round lead weights above his head.
‘Yes,’ Vespasian agreed, throwing the ball so forcefully at Paetus’ midriff that it almost knocked him over, ‘but at the same time he conferred a more prestigious priesthood upon Caligula.’
‘And now the latest rumour is that Tiberius is going to give Sejanus tribunician power,’ Paetus said, throwing the ball violently at Vespasian’s head and grinning as its velocity toppled his opponent, ‘which would then make him inviolate even though he’s resigned his consulship.’ He walked over to Vespasian and pulled him to his feet. ‘My game, I believe, old chap; two-one. Let’s take a bath.’