Vespasian: Tribune of Rome Read Free Page B

I have somethingin mind first, for him and for Sabinus now that he’s back. There’s nothing to be done until the next year’s magistrates take up their positions in January.’
    Vespasian was listening so hard that he failed to notice the figure creeping up behind him until a hand jerked back his hair.
    ‘Sneaking around and eavesdropping, little brother? Your behaviour hasn’t improved, has it?’ the familiar voice of Sabinus drawled as his grip tightened on Vespasian’s hair.
    Vespasian jammed his elbow back into Sabinus’ belly and wrenched himself free; spinning around to face his brother he ducked under a straight jab aimed at his nose and lashed out a return blow. Sabinus caught his fist and, with an iron grip, slowly forced his arm down, cracking his knuckles, twisting his wrist and forcing him on to his knees. Knowing that he was bested he ceased to struggle.
    ‘You’ve got some fight in you now, have you?’ Sabinus said, looking down at him malevolently. ‘That almost makes up for your lack of manners; it’s very impolite not to greet an elder brother after four years.’
    Vespasian raised his eyes. Sabinus had changed; he wasn’t the podgy sixteen-year-old who had terrorised him four years ago, he had become a man. He had replaced fat with muscle and had grown a couple of inches. His round face had slimmed to become squarer, but his brown eyes still had a malicious glint in them as they peered at Vespasian over the prominent, wide nose that was a characteristic of all the males in the family. It looked as if military life had suited him. He held himself with a haughty dignity that stifled all the sarcastic remarks that Vespasian could think of in reply.
    ‘I’m sorry, Sabinus,’ he muttered, getting to his feet. ‘I meant to greet you but I fell asleep.’
    Sabinus raised his eyebrows at this contrite admission. ‘Well, little brother, sleep is for the night; you’d do well to remember thatnow you are close to becoming a man. You’ve still got your country accent – most amusing. Come, our parents are waiting.’
    He walked into the house, leaving Vespasian burning with shame. He had shown weakness to his brother and had been corrected and patronised by him; it was intolerable. Resolving never to be so effeminate as to take a daytime nap again he hurried after Sabinus, his mind turning on the intriguing mention of a prophecy. His parents knew of it, but who else? Sabinus? He doubted it; his brother would have been too young at the time and anyway, if he did know of it, he would never let on. So whom to ask? His parents – and admit that he had been eavesdropping? Hardly.
    They entered the main house through the tablinum, and passed through into the atrium. Titus and Vespasia were waiting for the brothers, sitting on two colourfully painted wooden chairs, next to the
impluvium
, the pool that collected the rainwater that fell through the oblong opening in the centre of the ceiling. At each corner of the pool was a column that supported the weight of the roof. These were painted deep red in stark contrast to the pale greens, blues and yellows of the detailed stone mosaic on the floor illustrating the way that the family made its living and spent its leisure time.
    The October night outside was chilly, but the atrium benefited from both the underfloor heating, provided by the hypocaust, and a large log fire that blazed in the hearth to the right of the tablinum. The flickering light emitted by the fire and a dozen oil lamps illumed the haunting wax death masks of the Flavian ancestors that watched over the family from their recess between the hearth and the
lararium
, the altar dedicated to the household gods. On the walls around the room, just visible in the dull light, were decorative frescos of mythological subjects painted in rich reds and yellows and punctuated by doorways that led to lesser rooms.
    ‘Sit down, boys,’ their father said cheerily, evidently enjoying having his close family