Domina Victrix

Chapter 7: 20 AD, Capri, Mauretania and Antioch

Tiberius pulled a mound of tablets toward himself, chuckling at so many people who were too clever by half. Nophis had been his most effective mole near the Antony family but he was not the only one. The Emperor knew why General Marcus had not replaced him. The Camp Prefect was a reliable source of information on that conversation. Germanicus' former private secretary, who now worked for Agrippina, was also on the Emperor's payroll, as was her courier. Tiberius read through a copy of her letter to Ptolemy, his temper rising. Agrippina had no business addressing the ruler of a dependent kingdom. That it might tear apart the vital links between Syria and Mauretania as Parthia bore down on Armenia was unpardonable. She was smart enough to know that she had almost scuttled a key piece of his foreign policy, or maybe that was her aim.

He knew why she hated Piso. Few people liked or trusted him and he had bungled in his other postings. Tiberius knew, as did she, that Germanicus was poisoned, and by whom, and hoped no one got too curious. That she would stoop to slander a noble maiden who had done nothing to her or her late husband was unacceptable. Some Romans still kept the old ways, and Tiberius was one. Disparaging General Marcus, who remained in firm command at Antioch as Tiberius' direct representative, was close to impugning Tiberius himself. The Emperor pursed his lips as he thought of a way to shut Agrippina's mouth once she arrived in Italy.

Not that General Marcus was above reproach. Antony men had an infuriating habit of giving too much credence to women of ability. Old Fulvia, Antony's second wife, had been a shrewd businesswoman and astute politician, but she was a woman. Cleopatra was a queen, but still a woman. Beautiful women had their charms but the most powerful aphrodisiac was an intelligent, formidable woman who knew her own mind. Hybrida and Antonia of Pontus, Selene of Mauretania, Tryphaena of Pontus and Armenia, and Antony's two daughters by Octavia fit this mold. So, too, did Victoria, whom Germanicus had admired. Now her father was positioning her not just to be an able assistant, but to rule a kingdom if need be. Tiberius began a letter to General Marcus, enclosing Agrippina's diatribe, and telling his commander what he expected. Trained private secretaries could be had for the right price, and he hoped the General would find an able replacement soon. Using Victoria for the time being went only so far. Tiberius himself would guarantee her honor and provide assurances to Mauretania. There would be no need for further court cases or inquiries. He wrote in a similar vein to Julius Antonius in Rome, reminding the Senator of the need to keep their family life out of the courts and the public eye.

"That better settle it," he snapped as he handed the letters off to be sealed and delivered.

...

Juba dropped the tablet containing Agrippina's letter down on the desk and skimmed it again.

"Why?" he snapped.

"You don't believe it, do you?" Ptolemy asked.

"Never, she's too damn young," Juba said. "And you and I both grew up with Germanicus. He was capable of something that despicable, but I doubt it. He loved Agrippina too much."

"He's dead and I'm not wasting any of our time on it," Ptolemy said. "The marriage and staging of our forces will go forward."

Juba went to his room and found Victoria's response to his betrothal letter.

...You will love it here. Our land is on the river and you can see forever from where the house sits. We hike, hunt, ride, shoot, swim, and fish all summer. Antioch has a library and museum. I get lost there sometimes. Now, I am busy helping father. Write to me again. I have so much to tell you...

He chuckled. This girl was mad about nature, history, poetry, books, curios, archery, dogs, cats, and horses, but not sex, yet. He could fix that in due time. He glanced up at the bust of his mother. Selene was ten years old when her parents committed suicide and she was taken to Rome. She walked in Octavian's triumphal procession, or tried to. Her golden shackles were so heavy that she fainted. It was Octavia, sister of Augustus, who took pity on Selene and raised her in a way Cleopatra would have approved, fostering her love of languages and learning.