Master and God by Lindsey Davis Read Free Book Online

were the youngest. Domitian was taller than Titus which probably pleased him, though shorter than Vinius. He was good-looking and well-made, though not muscular because he rarely took exercise. Around the eyes there was a noticeable resemblance to his father Vespasian, though unlike his brother he had a silly mouth, Vinius reckoned. Wrong teeth? Receding jaw? A section of his upper lip twisted slightly. The cause was not obvious. The mouth gave him a pleasant expression from one side, though from the other he looked weak.
    Domitian turned his head. Vinius was staring directly at him. Since it was impossible to disguise this, he cleared his throat and said, ‘I see you looking down the Via Flaminia, sir. That was the natural limit of the fire, because the intense heat on the Campus Martius caused an in-draught. Air rushing over the Campus created a natural firebreak.’
    For speaking uninvited, Domitian could have dismissed him. Vinius stared woodenly across the distant Campus. His princely companion elected to be gracious. Vespasian, superb general that he was, had been good with common soldiers; there could be nothing but credit in talking to this one about his speciality, fire.
    ‘The Temple of Isis is gone, I see, soldier.’
    Vinius picked up on the statement’s significance at once. He knew how Domitian had disguised himself as a devotee of Isis during his escape from the Vitellians. Dropping his voice, he acknowledged the young Caesar’s inevitable stress. ‘This must be very hard for you, sir.’
    He understood why Domitian had wanted to escape from observation by his companions. He had hidden it, but all through this official visit he had been fighting down panic. He had tested himself by inspecting the Temple of Jupiter and forcing himself to look down where the Temple of Isis had been, but if he didn’t get away soon it would be too much for him. Now he urgently wanted the Capitol visit to be over, but had to make himself steady before he could return to the others and conclude it.
    Vinius, who regularly endured his own nightmares, knew what was going on here. Domitian’s heart would be pounding erratically. Sweat gleamed on his high forehead. Mentally, he was back in that violent climax to the Year of the Four Emperors, shaken by terrible memories.
    ‘One who knows, soldier?’
    ‘I would not presume, Caesar.’
    They shared a brief moment of fellow-feeling nonetheless. The paramilitary stood quietly; the prince’s hands were gripped in fists. Domitian admitted, ‘I nearly died that night. One assumes the memories will fade. That’s a mistake.’ Vinius glanced over again, so Domitian indicated his striking scars. ‘You must have experience of the after-effects of trauma.’
    Vinius nodded. ‘Unfortunately, sir! A major shock, especially when you’re young, seems to stay with you for life.’ Since the sky failed to fall in, he continued: ‘And when the nightmares come, every man is on his own. Just when you think you are safe from the horrors, you get tired, or drunk, or simply the Fates think you are enjoying yourself too much and need to be reined in . . . But sometimes it’s bloody obvious why it all comes rushing back. So pardon me, Caesar, I know exactly what’s churning you up today and I don’t mean that disrespectfully. I myself wouldn’t want ever again to find whooping barbarians throwing spears towards me.’
    ‘Yet you are a brave man.’
    ‘If you say so.’ A soldier’s answer. Slightly sullen. False modesty, no doubt.
I only did my duty, sir.
Or true modesty perhaps. The man was visibly too tired to care. He talked, almost to keep himself awake: ‘I just know that any more action in the field would give me the shakes, I couldn’t help it. After I was wounded, I was glad to be sent back to Rome to avoid that situation. For you, sir, at the age you were that awful night, and with what happened to your uncle, coming back on the Capitol, with the Temple burned down once again,