Domina Triumphans

Chapter 3: 46 AD, Campania, Syria, Gaul, and Caesarea

Cool morning breezes relieved the summer heat as servants prepared for a garden party at the Emperor's palace in Nolanus on the coast of Campania. Claudius waited while his servants draped a formal cloak of Imperial purple around him and fastened it with a sapphire brooch at his right shoulder. He was fifty-six this year, and showing his age. He was not balding, but his hair was iron-gray. He had a paunch, but he was still able to walk without a cane and his speech had grown stronger and steadier with years of practice. Eating, especially in company, always presented a problem, as chewing made him either slobber or his nose run, and he had a tendency to drop or spill items if his hands trembled. But he could not help any of it. Emperors had to be seen to be believed and that meant entertaining.

He made his way down the colonnade from his apartments, crossing paths with his wife, Valeria Messalina. The Empress tiptoed to kiss his cheek. They had an open marriage, both spouses taking other lovers, but he loved her and had reason to believe she cared for him. She linked her arm through his and they processed out to the gardens overlooking the Sea. This would be the last major party of the summer social season before everyone went back to Rome. Claudius was using it to announce his picks for Consuls in the following year. So far, none of the candidates had arrived.

He sat on a chair in the receiving line waiting as Valeria or his niece Agrippina presented guests to him,thinking over his choices for the Senate leadership. The Roman Senate consisted of 600 men, of who less than three hundred assembled in Rome at the Curia at any given time. They were led by two Consuls, who presided over the chamber and handled administrative issues. During the Republic, they were the most powerful men in the Empire. The Emperor now handled the ceremonial and diplomatic functions, but at least one Consul or a suffect or deputy was required for the Senate to meet. The office had a high turnover rate, so Claudius had also appointed both deputies. Their terms would commence in January.

More litters began arriving. Julius Antonius, or Beaky, got out of one. At forty-four, he was still in the prime of life. His resemblance to their common ancestor, Mark Antony, was obvious in Julius' height, over six feet, his solid build, and thick, curly dark hair. He had the family gift of gab and could light up any gathering. He greeted those around him and headed for the receiving line, smiling as he approached Claudius.

"I don't want to go back to Rome yet, Divinity," he said.

"Neither do I," Claudius said. "It's too damn hot."

Valerius Messala, Valeria's brother, appeared next. Their grandmother had been Antony's daughter, Antonia Major, the sister of Claudius' mother, Antonia Minor. Valerius was a current Consul and one of a few Claudius felt sure he could count on.

"We've got a pile of it back in Rome and this summer won't quit," Valerius said.

"Tell me," Claudius said.

Artorius and Artorianus Bricius were next. Artos' father and uncle were almost twins and older, grayer versions of him. Descendants of Vercingetorix of Gaul, they were tall, gaunt men with light rosy skin, red-gold hair, and piercing blue eyes. Artos was one of Claudius' few personal friends. He remembered people's names and where he had seen them last, and could draw them into conversation. Artorius and Artorianus had no interest in social events and would no doubt end up in a corner with their backs to the room. Both former Legates or Generals, they opened up only with veterans like themselves. Claudius had never served, so he was not part of that crowd.

"Divinity," Artorius said by way of greeting. "Augusta."

Artorianus let his younger brother speak for both and shook hands without saying anything. Julia Livilla was next in line, standing beside Agrippina. Artorius mumbled a 'good morning' at her, but stepped back from Aemilia Lepida. Claudius knew why and he was sure Aemilia did, too. Aemilia, pissed, was not about to be ignored.