Free The Course of Honour by Lindsey Davis

instance, though his brother had the same cognomen as their father, Vespasian was named after his mother. Vespasia Polla was not unique in receiving this sign of respect, though many women were denied it.
    Vespasian’s grandfather had married money, then his father allied himself to social status. While his father was away making a useful fortune as a banker in Helvetia, Vespasian had been brought up by his grandmother Tertulla on her large estate at Cosa on the northwest coast of Italy. Nowadays, with the family established nearer to Rome, his mother had assumed the influence that his grandmother had wielded during his happy childhood in Etruria.
    His brother was doing well, as their mother pointed out. Sabinus, who had held the civic post of aedile the year Sejanus fell, had then progressed without difficulty to being elected as a magistrate two years later. By the time he was forty Sabinus would be hoping for a consulship. Meanwhile Vespasian had reached twenty-five, the year he himself was eligible to stand as a senator, though so far he had done nothing about it. A second son, he had a more easy-going attitude than his brother. He did not want to follow Sabinus into a public career—though he had no clear idea what he hankered for instead. His mother was determined to overcome his restlessness.
    She was winning. She could not make him stand in the Senate elections the year that he should have done, but soon afterwards Vespasian let himself agree to return to Rome. Lucius Vitellius was prevaliedupon to introduce him to high circles. This brought him into a tight-knit group of four notable families, the Vitellii, the Petronii, the Plautii and the Pomponii, who all had long-standing ties of marriage and common interest and who were increasingly prominent in government. After Sejanus fell their importance had increased. Their members were awarded a flock of consulships and it was generally perceived that they owed at least some of their success to Antonia.
    Only foolishness would have allowed a young man who had access to this powerful group to miss his opportunity. Unless he chose to run off to be a travelling lyre player, with a beard and battered sandals, Vespasian was bound to end up dancing attendance at the House of Livia.
    â€˜I could bar this upstart!’ offered Tyrannus.
    Tyrannus was the slave who screened Antonia’s guests. It was a post she had virtually invented, for in most Roman homes free access to the householder for people wishing to pay their respects or to submit petitions was traditional: but most households were not headed by women. Modesty forbade such free access to the House of Livia.
    â€˜There is no reason to bar him.’ Caenis felt embarrassed to discover that everyone knew Vespasian had sought an entanglement with her—and that it had not happened.
    â€˜I’m on your side, Caenis.’
    â€˜I do appreciate that. We need not punish him.’
    â€˜Oh well—if you put his nose out of joint!’
    Hardly likely, thought Caenis, as she braced herself to keep calm during Vespasian’s visits.
    She refused to hide. He too had no intention of pretending they were strangers. In what amounted to a public situation they were able to find a wry formality for dealing with one another. So they would pass in corridors as if by accident (though it happened quite often). They would treat one another to exaggerated politeness, enquiring after each other’s health. They even stood in the atrium discussing the weather as if there had never been that fierce tug of attraction between them.
    Yet remembrance of their odd friendship never died either. Caenis liked to let Vespasian see important men respectfully seeking heradvice about how to approach Antonia. In return, Vespasian would fold his strong arms in his toga and cheerfully wink at her.
    When he was twenty-six his mother finally prevailed. He was elected to the Senate, assuming the title of quaestor, a junior