Extract from Aquila Book Two: Heir to Rome with the ascention of Claudius following the death of Caligula

 

DOMUS GAI - Rome 

CLAUDIUS

He tried to sit calmly, scroll in hand, the res geste, words of revered Augustus, written in the Emperor’s own hand. Words which normally soothed him, though today they danced across the page like drunken plebeians at Saturnalia. The two fingers of his right hand tapped out an anxious beat. He willed them to still but they continued defiantly. Across the room, Marcus watched him warily. When the man had joined them outside the theatre he had wanted to curse but instead had welcomed him calmly and as Asiaticus made surreptitious throat slicing gestures, shook his head.

He liked the man. He was quiet, studious and loyal to the principate, despite how much it had cost him. Moreover, he was an excellent orator. He was what Claudius sometimes envisioned his own self, had he not been hampered by the vagaries of his condition.

Shifting his left hand to still his traitorous fingers, Claudius licked his lips and shifted a quick glance between Asiaticus and the door.

Claudius yawned. ‘F-f-forgive an old man, Marcus. I thought I h-had more stamina but I think I shall f-find my bed.’ He stood, carefully twining the scroll and passing it to a waiting slave to return to its correct space. ‘Perhaps I will take the Princep's advice and seek to pin my wife.’

He attempted a lascivious smile, the type that disgusted so many men. Marcus barely blinked. He did nod, however, as Claudius limped, a little more than strictly necessary, towards the doorway. Asiaticus slipped in beside him. When they were well away from the library Asiaticus spoke.

‘Perhaps a dagger in the dark might have been a better choice.’

Claudius shook his head.

‘He has a claim as good as yours. And a great many in the Senate would follow him.’

‘And he would m-make an excellent Princeps. His wife is m-my brother’s daughter and a worthy Empress. B-better still he could adopt his heir to secure the succession. Perhaps his sister’s son. Rome could be f-far worse off.’

The look Asiaticus shot him was incredulous and made Claudius smile his lopsided smile. ‘But n-none of that matters, my friend.’ He paused, one hand on the rich red curtain that set of one of the allies. Behind which he might be equally likely to find the statue of a god or a pair of heaving and groaning senators. Though considering the silence of the evening the former was more likely.

‘It m-matters not because we have one thing M-marcus Vinicius doesn’t have.’

‘And what is that?’

Claudius raised a still twitching hand and pointed towards the far end of the greeting hall where the entrance was filling with armed men. Several in the front looked like they had been splattered with crimson paint, or attended a sacrifice. Their eyes locked on his and they strode across the space between them.

‘The praetorians.’ 

The group formed a natural semi-circle around where Claudius stood, one hand still clutching the curtain. Had they wanted to do him harm he could not have escaped them, a thought that made him repress a shiver. Then, as one, they dropped to one knee before him, one fist pressed to their chests.

‘Princeps, we salute you.’ Spoke the man in the front, words echoed by those around him.

Claudius smiled and nodded. They stood, a creak of leather, a rattle of swords.

‘Princeps, I think it would be wise for you to come to join us in the castra praetoria. Things will be unsettled for a time and it is best to keep you safe.’

He nodded his consent. The man looked relieved.

‘Gather my wife and daughter and have them taken to the praetorian barracks. Send men to secure the treasury,’ he shrugged a little, ‘assuming there is anything left there to preserve.’

The man in front of him blanched. Claudius smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Sabinus, you will be paid all that you are owed and more.’

The man smiled and turned to begin dispensing orders.