‘My, Vegetius,’ said Lucius, looking at the well-laden table. ‘You’ve not eaten a thing.’
Vegetius waved a scroll, his face red and his anger seemingly manufactured and insincere. ‘I am too busy reading these lies.’
‘Dismiss your slaves now, we need to speak alone.’ When they had been sent away, Lucius added, ‘Are they lies, Vegetius?’
‘Of course.’
‘So you did not lend out your soldiers’ pay for months and pocket the interest, you did not sell their services as labourers, you never took bribes from the frontier farmers and mine owners to provide security.’
‘I…’
‘Have a care, Vegetius. I am not a man to whom you can lightly tell a lie and I have not even mentioned two other possible things which raise questions. The excessive taxes which you pocketed from your office, and the fact that the treasury of Publius Trebonius, which we suspect was taken by the Illyrian rebels who killed him, and would surely have been with the forces you defeated, is missing.’
The fat red lips were wetted several times before a reply came. ‘I have done nothing of which I am ashamed.’
‘Then you have little knowledge of what the word means, I fear. You have taken gubernatorial rapacity to a height I have certainly never seen before, made yourself rich at the expense of your office and the state. You have deliberately left my oldest friend and the best soldier Rome had to die so that you could seek enough dead bodies to get you a triumph, and we are about to have a debate in the house to decide whether that wish should be granted.’
‘I deny everything in these letters.’
‘I think I need a glass of wine and I think I should pour you one.’ This he did, only to see it disappear down the man’s throat in one gulp. ‘Now what you are saying is this. That Aulus Cornelius Macedonicus, probably the most honest and upright man ever to put on a senatorial toga, has told lies, while you, a man known for the depth rather than the height of your standards, are telling the truth. I wonder how that will be received?’
‘I have friends who will support me.’
Lucius smiled, but it was the look of a fox who had just found its way into the chicken coop. ‘I too have friends, and Aulus? He had the good opinion of everyone except those too base to comprehend his nature. I think that should I produce these letters, then propose not only that you be impeached but that you be stoned then cast naked from the Tarpien Rock, that I might carry the day.’
‘I made a modest amount, I admit.’
‘Modest?’
‘And I am happy to share it.’
‘A bribe, Vegetius. I think I should call for a shovel, since in a hole your inclination is to keep digging. What you need is someone who can save you from the justified anger of your peers.’ Vegetius was wise enough then, to stay silent. ‘But of course, such a saviour would have a price.’
‘Anything.’
‘That is a great deal, but nothing I suppose, set against your life, and a very painful death. Have you read the report of the commission that Aulus Cornelius headed?’
‘Not yet.’
‘You would enjoy it, but then since it was written by friends of yours that is hardly surprising.’
Vegetius sat forward, and spoke with a degree of hope. ‘It absolves me?’
‘It does not even accuse you, so much is it a pack of lies. Keeping the soldiers pay is excused as keeping them from throwing away their hard-earned money, their labours as service to the provincial farmers, and your policy of guarding the frontiers in small detachments is described as masterful. Given the lengths you employed to pacify the indigenes, the Illyrian peasants are seen as ingrates for their revolt. When I read it I laughed until tears filled my eyes.’
‘What do you want, Lucius Falerius?’
‘A peaceful life, Vegetius, is that not what we all want? No more scraped votes in the Forum, no more having to cajole my fellow senators to do the right thing. It would be wonderful not to hear of land redistribution ever again, just as I would welcome an end to the clamour for the peoples we have defeated to be given citizenship. You and your friends represent a sizeable block of senatorial votes. If I can always count on those my mind will be at rest.’
‘These letters?’
‘Are copies. The originals I shall keep.’
‘Who has seen them?’
‘Enough people of position to ensure that I can introduce them to the house at any time I choose.’
‘They will lose potency as time passes, Lucius, and then people will ask why you hung on to them and said nothing.’
‘They might not result in your death, but ruin can be just as painful.’
‘You’re asking me to help you gain total control of the Senate.’
‘Never fear, Vegetius. No one ever has control of the Senate and if I do have power, I intend to use it wisely. That was something Aulus Cornelius never understood. Now, about your triumph.’
When Lucius departed he was content. He had what he had sought when he contrived at the murder of Tiberius Livonius, the power to ensure that the Imperium of Rome would remain unchanged and unsullied. Aulus had taken that away from him the day he had mounted his defence; now in death, without knowing it, his old friend had created the circumstances that gifted it back to him. There was another thing to cheer him up; no evidence of any eagles appeared in Aulus’s death, so perhaps, as he always half suspected, that Alban Sybil was wont to give her prophecy out for the money they brought in, not as true warnings from the gods.
The burning drawing was no more than a conjuring trick to terrify the gullible, and he could now dismiss from his mind the occasional fears it produced.
EPILOGUE
Claudia sat alone, as all over the house they prepared to commemorate, with prayers, the life of Aulus Cornelius Macedonicus. Senators were arriving and crowds had gathered in the street to mourn with the family. She knew once it was over she would have to decide what to do, and although not resolved, she had a fair idea of the course she should take. First, find the spot where her child had been exposed, then if there were bones, a proper, albeit secret burial, if not a priestly ceremony and a sacrifice to ease the passage of the child’s soul.
If that talisman was still there she could consider a return to Spain. If not, she must track it down, working out a way to effect that without bringing disgrace on the Cornelii name. But let that wait; now it was time to see to the funeral rites of her husband, and to pray to the gods that he would have more peace and happiness in Hades, than he ever enjoyed here on Earth.
The golden haired boy, now near a youth, with the dog Minca at his side, stood by the side of the Via Appia, the road that ran north to Rome and south to Sicily. He, despite his inclinations, could not travel in either direction. Having given what money Fulmina had bequeathed him to the guard, he was stuck here until something happened. Perhaps, with the news of victory in Illyricum, Clodius would come home, after all; yet the boy was not sure if he could face him. One thing he knew, that he would take food from Dabo, but never work in his fields.