Authors: Robert Fabbri
Vespasian glanced at Caligula as they mounted the steps to Augustus’ House and saw that he was wide-eyed with enthusiasm and ambition. It was going to be an expensive time for Rome. What
would he do, he wondered, when the money ran out?
‘Gentlemen, thank you for accompanying me home,’ Caligula said, addressing his following from the top of the steps. ‘I shall rest now and gather my strength for the trials
ahead of me. You may go.’
The senators vied with each other to be the loudest in shouting ‘Hail Caesar’ while Caligula lifted his right hand with the imperial ring, dazzling in the sun, on the forefinger and
held his head back, lapping up the praise. Vespasian joined in with as much of a show of enthusiasm as the rest but with an unease brought about by Caligula’s all too obvious enjoyment of
being so hailed and his reluctance to bring it to an end. Was he already mocking the foremost men in Rome by seeing how long they would praise him for? Eventually he lowered his arm, turned smartly
on his heel and entered the house. Vespasian stood rooted to the spot, watching Caligula leave, unsure as to whether or not he too had been dismissed or was still expected for dinner.
He was just about to leave when Caligula stuck his head back out of the door. ‘Come on!’ he shouted fiercely. ‘You’re my friend, you stay with me.’
Vespasian ran towards the door wondering what advantage there would be in being the Emperor’s friend; if any.
V
ESPASIAN FOUND THE
scale of the interior of Augustus’ House overwhelming; his family’s whole house at Aquae
Cutillae could have fitted into the atrium alone. Far greater in size than those of Antonia or her daughter Livilla, the two largest residences that he had visited on the Palatine, this had been
built to overawe visiting dignitaries with the power of the man who had become the first among equals of the Roman ruling class. Yet there was no ostentation about it; it was an architectural study
in power, not a bragging showcase of wealth. The columns supporting the high atrium ceiling were of the finest white marble and the intricate mosaics on the floor were beautifully executed scenes
from the
Aeneid
in which the characters seemed almost to move, such was the realism with which they were depicted. However, the furnishings, ornaments and statuary were downplayed; each one
a masterpiece in its own right but not gaudy or brash, their workmanship alone attested far better to their value than any extraneous gilding or augmentation with precious stones or lavish fabrics.
It was a testament both to the taste and the political acumen of the man who had built it; he had not robbed Rome’s coffers in order to live in outrageous eastern-style luxury while the large
percentage of his people scrabbled for their living; he had built it to impress upon those who visited him to seek Rome’s friendship and favour the enormous power of the combined force of all
the citizens of Rome. He had built it in Rome’s image: practical, strong, towering and, above all, without pretension.
‘Miserable, isn’t it?’ Caligula complained as Vespasian caught up with him. ‘Augustus had no idea of how to display his wealth; I’ll be making a lot of changes to
brighten the whole place up.’
‘I think it’s beautiful, Caligula, I wouldn’t change it at all.’
‘What would you know about beauty,’ Caligula scoffed, ‘you country boy with your Sabine accent? Anyway, you don’t have any say in the matter, I’m the Emperor and
you’re just my subject.’
‘Indeed, Princeps.’
‘Gaius, my dearest,’ Antonia said, appearing from the far side of the vast atrium, ‘I have been waiting for you. Come here and let me look at my new Emperor whom I
haven’t seen for six years.’
Caligula stopped still. ‘You come here, Grandmother; I do no one’s bidding now, not even yours.’
Antonia approached with a fixed smile on her face and stood before her grandson, taking his face in her hands and gazing up into his sunken eyes. ‘Juno be praised, you look well. I have
prayed for this moment for a long time and now it’s finally come; my little Gaius emperor.’
‘I shall reward you for your prayers, Grandmother, although in truth they were unnecessary, I was destined for this. I have already ordered the Senate to vote you the title of
“Augusta”.’
‘You are generous, Gaius, to have me so honoured.’ She reached up automatically to ruffle his hair, as she had done so many times when he had been a child in her care, and withdrew
her hand instantly as she saw how thin it had become.
‘It’s your constant ruffling that’s to blame,’ Caligula snapped. ‘Have a care, woman, just because I’ve bestowed an honour on you one moment doesn’t
mean that I won’t demand your death the next. I can treat people any way I want now.’ He stormed off, leaving Antonia looking concerned at Vespasian.
‘It’s worse than I feared,’ she said quietly, ‘he’ll be the death of us all.’
Caligula roared with uncontrolled, high-pitched laughter. ‘Aren’t they priceless?’ he finally managed to get out. ‘I had them sent from Alexandria four
years ago, they cost me a fortune, but they’re worth every denarius.’
Vespasian watched politely the antics of a group of naked dwarf acrobats as they performed what he hoped was their finale. The sixteen males had formed a tapering column, five dwarves high,
around and up which four females were climbing, using the erect penises of their fellow performers as hand-holds and foot rests, to an accompaniment of frenzied percussion and ululations from a
half-dozen wild-eyed female drummers who were hardly any taller than their instruments.
‘Tiberius used to love them,’ Caligula enthused, ‘especially when they all start rutting. Sometimes they just can’t stop themselves.’
‘I can imagine,’ Vespasian said as enthusiastically as possible, hoping that this evening they would find the necessary control. However, judging by the close attention that the
females were giving to each one of their hand-holds he was prepared to be disappointed; as disappointed, in fact, as he had been in Caligula’s behaviour towards Antonia all through dinner. He
had not wasted a single opportunity to gainsay her or dismiss her opinions such that it was apparent that he was doing it out of bloody-mindedness rather than because he believed her to be wrong.
Antonia had borne the insults with an external appearance of indifference even when, having advised him to keep away from his sisters, he had proceeded to describe, in loving detail, exactly what
he intended to do with each one of them once they returned to Rome. Vespasian had tried to steer the difficult path between not annoying his power-drunk Emperor and not appearing to be too
sycophantic towards him in Antonia’s eyes, but had erred on the side of caution; a predicament that Antonia had, with a few sympathetic looks while Caligula’s attention had been
elsewhere, indicated she fully understood.
Caligula’s juvenile enjoyment of the dwarves’ performance for the past half-hour was proving a cringing embarrassment to both of them because he was so obviously revelling in
Antonia’s disgust.
‘Gaius, I’m not sure that this is appropriate entertainment for after-dinner,’ Antonia observed, unable to resist a comment any longer. She was peeling an apple while
studiously ignoring the acrobats’ gradual ascent.
‘Oh come on, Grandmother, it’s just a bit of fun. It’s very tame compared to some of the acts that Tiberius had on Capreae.’
‘This is not Capreae, Gaius dear, this is Rome, and certain standards need to be kept.’
‘What standards? The standards of aristocrats? Hanging onto sweaty and bloodied boxers, after they’ve fought one another to a standstill, to get a good, rough going over after your
guests have left? Those are your standards and I don’t judge them if that’s what you like. I like my dwarves, they make me laugh and I advise you not to criticise me for it because at
least I’m honest about it. In fact, I’m probably the only honest man of senatorial or equestrian birth in this hypocritical, Janus-faced city.’
Antonia placed the half-peeled apple on her plate and got to her feet; the airing of her sexual preferences in front of Vespasian had evidently proved too much for her. ‘I don’t
criticise you for it, Gaius, I just prefer not to share it. I’m now tired, as is the prerogative of an old and disappointed woman, so I shall bid you both goodnight. It’s been an
interesting evening, thank you.’ She walked briskly away, not looking back.
‘I’ll have Vespasian send his man, Magnus, around to cheer you up, Grandmother,’ Caligula shouted as she left the triclinium. With a triumphant laugh he turned back to
Vespasian, who was trying not to show the shock and alarm that he felt at being involved in Caligula’s worst jibe of the evening against his benefactress. ‘I think that’s made it
perfectly clear as to where she stands with me, don’t you?’
‘I thought that you handled her expertly,’ Vespasian replied, resorting to full-blown sycophancy now that the restraining presence of Antonia had gone and hating himself for it.
‘And you are right: you are the only honest man in Rome.’
Caligula smiled knowingly at Vespasian. ‘Because I’m the only one who can afford to be. The Senate have lived for so long with Augustus’ conceit that they and the Princeps
share power, whereas in reality they slavishly proposed and voted for what they deemed to be his and then Tiberius’ will, in the hopes of gaining favour. They’ve forgotten what honesty
is; you might just as well have a flock of sheep sitting in the Curia. Well, I’m going to teach the sheep honesty.’
Vespasian thought about giving an honest reply but decided against it. ‘I’m sure you will be a great teacher.’
‘You’re right, old friend, I will be,’ Caligula affirmed, turning his attention back to the dwarf column where the lead female dwarf had now, quite literally, mounted the top
while her fellow climbers worked their hand-holds vigorously.
‘Princeps, I have a favour to ask of you,’ Vespasian said, hoping that the approaching climax – in many ways – of Caligula’s favourite act would put him in the mood
for granting requests.
‘Vespasian, my good friend, name it.’
‘I have some family business that needs to be taken care of in Egypt. Would you grant me permission to go?’
‘And lose my companion for four or five months? What would I do without you? Get someone else to do it for you, but not a senator as it’s still not safe; apparently the Phoenix has
been reborn but hasn’t yet flown east.’
‘I have to go in person, and besides I couldn’t go until my term as aedile has expired at the end of this year,’ Vespasian pointed out, wondering what the Phoenix flying east
had to do with senators travelling to Egypt in safety.
‘Well, we shall see, perhaps I’ll have tired of you by then and the Phoenix will have gone. Callistus!’ Caligula’s short and wiry steward, whom Vespasian recognised from
his visit to Misenum, came scurrying in. ‘Once my dwarves have finished, call for Clemens and get us some dirty tunics and hooded cloaks.’ Caligula turned back to watch the inevitable,
rather messy, finale. ‘I want to go drinking and whoring in the city. We could get Magnus to show us some interesting places; I want to hear what the common people, the honest people, are
saying about me.’
‘It won’t be the best you’ve ever drunk here, Magnus,’ the portly tavern-keeper said, thumping down a full jug of wine onto the grimy, wine-stained
table, ‘but neither will it be the worst.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be up to your normal standard of gut-rotter, Balbus,’ Magnus replied with a grin as he filled the chipped cups of his three companions.
‘Who’re yer mates? I don’t think I’ve seen them before; not that I can really see their faces.’
‘Associates from out of the city come to see the new Emperor.’
Balbus kissed his thumbnail. ‘Jupiter hold his hands over our shining star, he’s the new hope of Rome. I saw him today and he looked like a young god.’
‘Perhaps he is,’ Caligula suggested from beneath his hood.
‘He may well be, Augustus was…is. Well, you’re welcome, lads, but we prefer hoods to be down in here, if it’s all the same to you.’
Vespasian and Clemens both pulled back their hoods but Caligula made no attempt to remove his; instead he pulled a gold aureus from his purse and handed it to Balbus. ‘This should see us
supplied with wine and women for a while.’
Balbus bit the coin; his eyes lit up as he realised that it was genuine. ‘Anything you want, lads, you can even have me for that and I wouldn’t care that I couldn’t see your
faces and the love in your eyes.’
The rumour of gold flew around the large, low-ceilinged tavern fogged with the fumes from a cooking fire behind the amphorae-lined bar; within moments all four of them had a plump,
stale-sweat-fragranced whore sitting on their lap while others hovered close by hoping to be next in line should one of the lucky first-arrivals be rejected. All around the dimly lit room there
were mutterings and dark looks from men on other tables who had been deprived of their female company as they gravitated across the wine-sticky flagstone floor towards the table with money.
‘I’m not sure that flashing gold in here was a good thing, Gaius,’ Magnus observed, struggling to take a sip of wine amid the enthusiastic attentions of his new companion. They
were all under strict instructions to use Caligula’s first name.
Caligula adjusted his position to allow his partner access up his tunic. ‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it, Magnus.’
‘And you’ve certainly got it, my lovely,’ the woman said, working her hand up his leg. ‘And in more ways than one,’ she added in surprise and admiration.
‘Venus help me! Sisters have a feel of this one; I’ve never come across the like of it.’
Caligula sat revelling in the attention that his huge erection was receiving as the women took it in turns to stroke its almost one-foot length and grasp its impressive girth, simpering at its
magnitude.
‘That’s worthy of Jupiter himself,’ Vespasian’s whore exclaimed as she took her turn, ‘I can’t even close my fingers around it.’
Vespasian took the opportunity to ease the woman off his lap and look around the room; many of the already angry customers were leaving their seats and gathering in a knot, looking with
malicious intent towards their table. ‘I’m not too sure that we’re going to be very welcome here for much longer,’ he muttered to Clemens next to him, nodding his head
towards the menace.