‘He has charm,’ Cato admitted, recalling all too painfully how the tribune had seduced Cato’s first love, and then killed her when there was a danger that she might expose his plot to kill the Emperor. ‘Bastard,’ he repeated.

‘I just hope he doesn’t see us,’ said Macro. ‘We didn’t exactly part on good terms, Fuscius,’ he explained.

Cato watched as Vitellius turned away again, engrossed in conversation. ‘We should be all right. He can’t possibly recognise us under all this kit.’

A brassy blast cut through the air to announce the approach of the Emperor. The Praetorians quickly snapped to attention, shields held in and spears grasped perpendicular to the ground. The public fell silent and stood respectfully. Behind Cato the imperial litters made the short trip from the tents and then their occupants waited until the German bodyguards had taken their place at the very foot of the platform. The Emperor and his coterie of close advisers climbed out and advanced down the short avenue of Praetorians, and up on to the stage. Out of the corner of his eye Cato could see that Claudius was doing his best to disguise his limp and suppress his tic and look dignified before his guests. He made his way up on to the dais and sat on the gilded throne. There was a pause as he surveyed the audience with an imperious tilt to his head and then he waved those that had them back to their seats. Narcissus and Pallas stood discreetly behind the dais, as befitted their status. Though they wielded far more power than any senator, consul or proconsul, as freedmen they technically ranked lower than the poorest freeborn Roman citizen presently starving to death in the most squalid districts of Rome.

‘Remember, sire, keep it clear and keep it short,’ Cato heard Narcissus say.

‘I kn-kn-know,’ Claudius replied tartly out of the corner of his mouth. ‘I’m no fool, you know.’

He cleared his throat with a rather unpleasant guttural sound and drew a deep breath.

‘My friends! Rome has endured much hardship in recent months. Our b-b-b-beloved city is troubled by social unrest. The failure of the grain supply has vexed our p-p-people. I have done all in my power to scour Italia for food to feed the capital. However, I believe we are close to solving the g-g-gr-grain shortage.’

Cato’s ears pricked and he sensed Macro stir beside him. Finding a reliable supply of food was the key to ending the strife in the city. Once that was dealt with, the people would be grateful to their Emperor and his enemies would no longer be able to exploit the discontent. Claudius had better be right, Cato thought. If he raised hopes only to dash them, it would only inflame the anger of his people.

The Emperor was about to continue when Narcissus leant forward slightly and spoke in an undertone. ‘Remember, pause for effect.’