Nero's Heirs (28 page)

So far, so good, you might say. But now it seemed, things took an unexpected turn. The rank and file of the army were not prepared to have their loyalties sold by their commander. Their anger, though spontaneous, was fanned by officers whom Caecina had neglected. One asked, in ringing tones, whether the honour of the army of Germany, hitherto victorious in every battle, had now fallen so low that they were ready to surrender to their enemies without a blow being struck. They wouldn't be received as allies, he said. On the contrary Vespasian's troops would despise them as they would learn to despise themselves. He appealed to the soldiers' pride and sense of honour. His speech carried the day; soldiers can rarely resist this sort of flattery. So they swarmed to headquarters and seized hold of Caecina. They loaded him with chains and made a mockery of him; indeed they came close to killing him on the spot, restrained only by a plea that he be reserved for formal trial and execution. Other officers and centurions, who had collaborated with their treacherous general, were slain. It was with difficulty, and in danger, that the messenger himself had escaped to bring this news.

Flavius Sabinus received this news with the appearance of composure. He gave the messenger gold, and then summoned slaves and told them to provide his friend with food and drink.

'So,' he said when we were alone, 'things have taken a turn for the worse. There's no question of that. I warned Caecina that timing was all, impressed on him the importance of not moving too quickly. Well, he knew better.'

'Things are no worse,' I said, 'than if you had made no arrangement with him. I do not think - from what Titus has told me - that Caecina's desertion had entered their plans.'

'No,' he said. 'It hadn't. That's not the point. Do you know what has guided my policy throughout these terrible months? I have had one constant aim: to avert civil war. Now that hope has gone. The decision will be made on the battlefield.'

I didn't ask him how he reconciled this aim with the encouragement which I had no doubt he had given Vespasian to declare himself a candidate for Emperor. It was not my place to ask that, and the question could have served no useful purpose. I have never been able to supply a satisfactory answer, and yet I was certain he was sincere.

'I had counted,' he said, 'on Vitellius' timidity. Caecina was foremost in forcing the purple on him. If Caecina deserted his cause, I was certain Vitellius would yield to us; and the matter might have been settled without more bloodshed. I have grown to hate war, you see. But now Vitellius will be filled with indignation only, that Caecina should have been ready to betray him. And his optimism, which flickers like a candle in a draught, will shine bright again. Moreover, moreover . . .' he paused and looked me in the eye for the first time since we had been left alone. He waited, as it seemed, for me to complete his thought.

You mean,' I said, 'that when he realises how close he was to disaster, he will seek revenge.'

'Just so. He is a weak man, and the weak and fearful are quick to strike. Like Nero, indeed. I do not think Domitian is safe. Tell the boy to drop out of sight, find some hiding-place.'

'What of you yourself, sir?'

'No,' he said. 'No. I may still be of use to Vitellius. He must know where I am to be found. But you, boy, like Domitian, should be careful. Few men are to be trusted in these troubled times.'

His judgement was wise. When Vitellius learned of Caecina's disloyalty, he fainted, and only when he had been revived by the creature Asiaticus was he able to comprehend that Caecina himself had been deserted and imprisoned by his soldiers. His immediate response was to wish for his death, then he sent out orders that he be conveyed to Rome with every humiliation. Then he ordered the Prefect of the Praetorians to be arrested also - merely because he had been appointed on the recommendation of Caecina.

Vitellius proceeded to the Senate where he made a speech that was so confused that few could understand its meaning, except that he spoke much in praise of his own magnanimity. The Senators responded in like vein. The Emperor's brother moved a resolution condemning Caecina, and Senator after Senator spoke in the finest of antique manners deploring the action of a Roman general who had betrayed the Republic and his Emperor. But it was remarked that all were careful to say nothing that might be held against them should Vitellius lose the Empire. Indeed, not a single Senator uttered a word of condemnation of the Emperor's enemy. The name of Vespasian was not spoken. This encouraged Flavius Sabinus. All this I learned later. I did not of course, attend the Senate myself, being otherwise occupied, and in any case not yet a member of that august assembly (as I suppose I must still call it, though a more accurate description would be a collection of poltroons and self-seeking time-servers who disgrace their ancestors.)

My business was with Domitian. It will not surprise you, Tacitus, to learn that, though he had been so fearful and so desirous of finding a place of safety or refuge, he received his uncle's instructions with suspicion.

It was, he said, some plot to prevent him distinguishing himself in his father's cause. It was another attempt to push him to the margin. It was treating him as a child and not a grown man. Why should it be safe for his uncle to remain in his post, while he was commanded to go into hiding? What sort of double game was his uncle playing?

And so on; his indignation burst forth in a cascade of confused and often contradictory questions.

At last I said: 'Do as you please then. I'm sure nobody cares whether you live or die.'

Which infuriated him still further.

'I didn't mean that,' I said, 'but really you try my patience. Don't you understand that we all have your best interests at heart? Yes, your uncle is playing a dangerous game. But he is an honest man. I've no doubt of that. And the game will be still more dangerous if Vitellius gets his hands on you. You are the most valuable bargaining counter he could have.'

'He's right,' Domatilla said, 'it's because you're important that you must disappear from the scene. It would be terrible if you were arrested and held as a hostage. I couldn't survive it if anything awful happened to you.'

She was near tears. She laid her arm around her brother's neck, and drew his head towards her, and kissed his cheek. He could not fail to feel her anxiety and her affection, and could not fail, I thought, to be moved by it. But he disengaged himself from her grasp.

'I don't know,' he said.

I looked out into the street.

'You may not,' I said, 'but you had better make up your mind quickly. There's a detachment of the Guard at the end of the lane, and I think they are making enquiries. They could be coming for you.'

That was enough. Whether Domatilla's flattery would have persuaded him to obey his uncle, I don't know. Fear was more successful. He looked round wildly.

Where can we go?'

'There's only one way out that may be safe. The roof He was out of the door of the apartment and up the stairs like a rat surprised in a kitchen. I took Domatilla by the hand. You must come, too,' I said. She resisted for a moment, then gave way.

Fortunately, no one emerged from any of the upper apartments as we mounted the stairs, no one who might have indicated to the soldiers where we had gone. A little skylight, used by the workmen who required access to the roof, was our way out. I gave Domitian a leg-up. He struggled to open the window which at first seemed to be stuck fast. He uttered little panting gasps of anxiety as he did so. From below, from the bottom of the staircase well, I could hear the soldiers questioning the porter. Then the window moved. Domitian got it open, eased his way out, for a moment vanished from our sight. I didn't dare call to him. I picked his sister up and, with a movement like a dancer's, lifted her so that she could get her hands through the opening and find purchase on the roof. Then with another heave, I had her through. I steppe
d back three paces and, with a ru
nning leap, caught hold of the outer rim of the window. One hand slipped, and for a moment I dangled in the air, supported only by the other. I swung my free hand around. The sound of the soldiers mounting the stairs to the apartment came to me, as my hand, missing the rim again, was caught hold of by Domatilla. I swung myself up and was on the roof. Domitian was lying face down on the slates. He had almost slipped off and was clinging by his fingers. I turned and shut the skylight. Then I pulled him up, so that all three of us were standing on a narrow ledge. I saw now that the skylight did not open onto the flat top of the roof but on to its sloping side. Domitian had very nearly gone over the edge. I suppose now it would have saved Rome a lot of trouble if he had done so but, of course, that didn't occur to me at the time.

'We can't stay here,' I said. 'If we thought of this way out, they will, too. We can't be sure that they will not know we were in the apartment.'

'Our aunt won't give us away,' Domitian said.

'No, but the porter will have done so. You can be sure of that. If not when they first questioned him, then on their way down. We must get across the roofs.'

Domatilla said, 'I know we must, but I'm afraid of heights.'

Again I took her by the hand. We made our way along the ledge.

'Don't look down,' I said, 'and you'll be all right.'

We would have moved faster on the flat roof but I was afraid we might attract more attention there. So we worked our way to the end of the building. The lane below which seemed so narrow when you passed along it now appeared a dangerous chasm. There was a gap of ten or twelve feet to the next building. I could have cleared it easily if I had been able to take a run at it. So, I suppose, could Domitian, a better athlete than myself, if his nerve had held. But it was beyond Domatilla's powers, and I dare not leap with her slung over my shoulder, which would have been the only means of carrying her.

I hesitated. There was no sound of the soldiers. They might have left the building. They might not after all have thought of the skylight. If the aunt had said we were out, they might be content to await our return. Down below in the lane a pedlar with a donkey was selling his wares. There was no other movement, nothing to alarm us. But we could not remain there and, when Domitian muttered that it might be safe to return the way we had come, I asked him if he wanted to walk into a waiting reception committee of the Guard.

We worked our way round the building. It was late afternoon, heavy with rain-swollen clouds. Then, about twenty feet below us, there was a balcony, a rickety dangerous-looking thing protruding from an apartment on what I judged must be the floor second from the top of the building. We had tried two skylights opening out of different staircases and found them unbudgeable. The wood had swollen and they were fixed fast. I looked at the balcony. I could jump down there without difficu
l
ty but would it hold? And would the shutters that must open on to it be closed and fastened from within? And if they were, could I get back up to the roof?

We went round the roof again. There was no other way off that I could see. It began to rain. Domatilla was shivering, more from anxiety than the cold. I explained what I intended to do. She shook her head. Domitian would neither meet my eye nor offer an alternative plan.

So, gripping the edge of the roof, I lowered myself and, with my feet kicking the empty air, dropped to the balcony below. It shuddered as it took my weight, but didn't come away from the wall as I had feared it would. Whether it could take three people's weight was another matter.

The shutters were indeed closed and fastened. I rattled them, and held my breath. If the apartment was empty, then I would try to force them open. If it wasn't. . .

I heard movement from the other side of the shutters. I called out, gently. A dark shape appeared behind them. The sound of a bolt being withdrawn, and they were open. I found myself looking at a woman. She had a large moon-face and a dark complexion. She did not speak, but waited, seemingly impassive. I blurted out apologies for disturbing her, explained that my friends and I had been stranded on the roof. She nodded, and stepped back. I said, 'We're not dangerous, not criminals. Will you let us leave the building by way of your apartment?'

Again she inclined her head, saying nothing. I still wasn't sure, apologised again, began to offer a further explanation.

'That doesn't concern me. I don't want to know,' she said. Her accent was southern, with the little lisp of Basilicata.

I turned away, called up to Domitian, told him to lower Domatilla, and to take her weight as long as he could. Then she was in my arms. The balcony shuddered again and quickly I thrust her from me and into the room.

'Now yourself,' I called. 'Don't jump, let yourself hang down.'

I stretched out my arms to receive him. Shouts came from the roof beyond. Domitian uttered a cry, little more than a whimper. Then his feet appeared. He dropped, instead of hanging, and, as I caught him, his weight caused me to sway backwards against the flimsy balustrade. I heard a creak, flung him into the room. He landed, sprawling. I heard footsteps on the roof above, and a voice shouted, 'He's gone over the edge.' The balcony shuddered and swayed again. I felt it tear itself away from the wall, and, just in time, leapt into the room. Behind me I heard it crash into the lane.