He answered me coldly, and without expression: “No material evidence implicates Domitian.” He had been a barrister; it was a barrister’s reply. Suddenly he became restless. “Do you know why I rushed home? Rumour!” he exploded. “I had attended the consecration of the Apis Bull at Memphis. I was crowned with a diadem—it is part of the normal ritual—so Rome decides I am setting myself up as Emperor in the East!”

“The word at my barber’s this afternoon,” I commented, “was that even your father had doubts!”

“Then your barber should have seen us both when I rushed into the Palace yesterday crying Father, here I am! As for my brother, in the civil war he nearly lost his life on the Capitol while the Temple of Jupiter burned over his head. My uncle, who would have advised him, had just been murdered by supporters of Vitellius. At eighteen, with no political experience, Domitian discovered himself representing the Emperor in Rome. It was completely unexpected. He made choices that were foolish, as he realizes now. No one can ask me to condemn my brother, simply because he is so young!”

I caught Helena’s eye; neither of us spoke.

Titus massaged his forehead.

“What’s the word at your barber’s about this tangle, Falco?”

“That your father hates disloyalty, but that he always listens to you. That while you were both at Alexandria, Vespasian lost his temper when he heard about your brother’s intended foray into the German revolt against him, but you convinced him to be lenient with Domitian.” Since he did not deny it I added cheerily, “You’ll have spotted I choose my barber for his sharp information, sir!” Helena Justina glanced mournfully, I thought, at my lost curls; I tried not to look at her. “So what now, Caesar?”

Titus sighed. “My father has asked the Senate to award him a ceremonial Triumph. We shall celebrate the capture of Jerusalem in the grandest procession Rome has ever seen. If you have children, take them; they will view nothing like it in their lives again. It will be our gift to the city—and I dare say in return the future of the Flavian dynasty is assured.”

It was Helena who assessed the situation. “Your father’s two grown sons are one of his attractions as Emperor,” she remarked thoughtfully. “The Flavians are offering Rome long-term stability, so you and Domitian must both ride in the parade. Everything must appear harmonious—”

Titus ducked that: “By the end of this week my father’s position will be established. Falco, the word at my barber’s is, neither the Praetorians nor my brother will cooperate now in opposing my father. These people will wish to run to earth and let bygones be done. Now I hold this list of names I’m inclined to let them run—”