The legate turned his back and Cato shifted on to his stomach, feasting his eyes on the spread before him, before he allowed his tastebuds a turn.

‘What the hell is that smell?’ Macro sniffed accusingly.

‘I’m afraid it’s me, sir,’ Cato replied, filling his cup with a dark red Massic.

‘What is it? You stink like a cheap tart.’

‘That’s because it’s a scent Pyrax bought for a cheap tart.’

‘You’re wearing a scent?’ Macro recoiled in horror.

‘Had to, sir. I’ve been up to my knees in shit all afternoon. I cleaned myself down as best I could but there’s no shifting the smell. Pyrax suggested I try to cover over it with his scent.’

‘He did, did he?’

‘Yes, sir. Said it was better to smell like a tart than a turd, or something.’

‘That’s debatable.’

‘How’s the leg today, sir?’ Cato asked, reaching for another dormouse.

‘Getting better. But still a few weeks before I’m allowed back on my feet. I’m not looking forward to spending most of it in a transport wagon.’

‘Any idea where the Legion’s being sent?’

‘Shhh! Keep your mouth shut! We’re not supposed to know yet. I think that’s why we’ve all been invited.’

‘You think?’

‘Why else invite so many if it’s just a quiet dinner to celebrate the investiture? There’s bound to be more to it than that.’

===OO=OOO=OO===

Flavia laughed politely, but discreetly, at the tribune’s joke; one had to be careful when discussing Emperor Claudius. At the same time she wished to probe Vitellius a little further so the amused expression remained on her face.

‘That’s a good story Vitellius. Very good. But I wonder, do you think Claudius is right for the job?’

‘What do I think of Claudius?’ He scrutinised her closely before replying. ‘It’s a bit too early to make a judgement, wouldn’t you say?’

‘I have friends in Rome who tell me that people are already saying that Claudius won’t last long, that he’s mad or, at the very least, a simpleton. And that he lets his freedmen run the empire in his name. Particularly that fellow Narcissus.’

‘Yes, I’ve heard that too.’ Vitellius smiled, amused by the way in which people discussing the Emperor always voiced their own opinions through the mouths of anonymous friends. ‘But it’s early days, he’s bound to delegate some tasks while he learns the ropes.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Flavia replied as she picked a scrap of meat from one of the bones lying on her plate. ‘But I wonder how one man can ever be expected to rule the Empire — such a burden. I know I’m only a woman and have a limited perspective on affairs of state, but I would have thought that such a task required the energies of more than one man. Surely there are enough wise heads in the Senate who can be relied on to help the Emperor rule?’

‘To help the Emperor rule? Or to rule in his place? And then we’re back to the bloodshed of the Republic. Nearly every politician a soldier and every soldier a politician, and once you’re in that situation there are no longer any elections — just wars.’