Free Nero's Heirs by Allan Massie Page A

doubted that he was also driven by his understanding of what was best for Rome and the Empire.
    When he spoke of the need to wait and see how events unfolded in Rome, this was, as I came to realise, because he was maturing a plan by which he hoped that his family could secure the Empire without further civil war.
    Domitian broke the news to me.
    'It's not fair,' he said. 'Do you know what my uncle is trying to do? He is working to persuade Galba to adopt my brother as his heir. Why Titus? Why is it always Titus? Why am I forever cast aside, or ignored, as of no account?'
    You have,' I said, 'the misfortune to be a younger son. It's the fate of younger sons to take second place.'
    'It's not fair,' he said again, and again.
    How tired I was of hearing this refrain.
    Domatilla said he was unhappy and couldn't help it. He was not to be blamed for his discontent.
    I had a letter from Titus, written in the cipher we had agreed. I have it before me, but shan't send it to Tacitus, it's too personal. Reading it now embarrasses me. But there is one paragraph I might let him see.
    '. . . I rely on you to keep me abreast of a situation that must be changing with an almost inconceivable rapidity. You have the keen intelligence that allows you to penetrate below the surface and understand the significance of what others see only superficially. What, then, is afoot? I know that my uncle hopes to persuade Galba to name me his heir, and this hope, I must tell you, is shared by my esteemed father. But it won't do. I have discussed the possibility with L. Mucianus, who has, you will be amused to learn, developed a special tendresse for me, even though I am some years older than the beardless ganymedes with whom he chooses to surround himself and who delight his rather excessive hours of leisure. (He has many merits, this Mucianus, but the ability to work long and hard is not among them.) Be that as it may, I admire his sagacity, the penetration of his intellect. He is clear that it would not be to my interest to be named by Galba as his heir. "The Empire," he says, "is not now in any single man's gift. It is carried on the point of the soldiers' swords. To be nominated by Galba is to be condemned to failure and an early death. Caesar and Augustus won their supreme position by force of arms, and the exercise of their political skills. We are again in the same position as they were: the Republic in ruins, and all to play for. But believe me, dear boy, it is only when much blood has been shed and battles fought that stability can be restored." It is remarkable that one who loves to lie in perfumed softness should speak with the accents of a cold clear morning. But I am not asking you to dissuade my uncle from his endeavours, if only because you must fail to do so, and he would think it strange, even suspicious, that you should make the attempt. In any case, it won't do our cause any harm, if people hear my name mentioned in that context. Meanwhile the urgent matter here is to quell this ridiculous Jewish revolt, that we may be free to march to Italy when the time is ripe.'
    XI
    Tacitus complains that my accounts are disjointed, that I veer off into personal reminiscences irrelevant to the great matter of his History. No doubt he is justified. Yet, as I sit here, there is more pleasure to be had, a quickening of the blood, in remembering how I occupied myself with Domatilla, and with fancies concerning her, than in recalling the dismal and brutal catalogue of crime and misery that goes by the name of history. Besides, it is only when I lose myself in memories of erotic moments, that the past seems real to me. But to work.
    Tacitus: you do well to chide me. I shall strive to keep to the point.
    I was in the Forum the day that the news of the revolt of the German legions was confirmed. It was bitterly cold, being the first week of January, and there was snow on the hills above Albano. The confirmation came from the Procurator of Belgica, in a dispatch