Domus Augusti

After the events of the Senate, Cassius came to call upon the inscrutable Augustus, the old man escorted up the Palatine by a long train of slaves and accompanied by a few members of his own family.

”Noble Caesar.”

Greeted Cassius, who looked like one of those old marble busts of men like the elder Cato; age tended to lend a man a certain gravitas, even as his muscles turned to fat and his skin started sagging like old leather. In his party followed a youth some ten years younger than Otho, a skinny boy in a lose fitting tunic with wide eyes and a thin nose. Then, three ladies, of varying ages. They were fetching, but by no means great beauties. One still wore black, in mourning. Surely, Corbulo’s widow. Each formulaically paid the Augustus due deference.

”We put ourselves at your disposal, noble Caesar. I bring with me my son and daughter, widow of general Corbulo, and her two daughters.”

They were of impeccable breeding, then, much like Cassius himself. The old aristocracy put the highest value on such a thing, and considered it the finest quality of a man’s right to rule or his competency at governance.

”And naturally have come to give our oaths of loyalty in person, given our recent return to the city.”

A polite way of announcing their return from exile and near death.

They all nodded gravely, mimicking their aged patriarch. None of them spoke out of turn, though the faces of the women appeared to be full of relief. One by one they stepped forward and were introduced; Cassius' eldest granddaughter was perhaps the most marriageable, being now in the fruit of her childbearing years, and unlike her mother wore something altogether less associated with the memory of death. She was youth and fertility while her mother (though still young enough to bear child again) was the image of matrimonial and motherly dignity. It was the obvious hope of Longinus that the Augustus would take a liking to at least one of them. It was the courtly language of the nobiles, advertising their wares like a cattle merchant on market day.

Then, finally, came young Gaius Cassius. He was solemn and sweaty, wary eyes constantly flickering to the guards lurking in the room's shadows, twitching fingers betraying his anxiety. Quickly, he mouthed an oath of undying affection and loyalty, though carefully never raising his gaze to meet that of the princely Imperator that sat before him now, a perfumed giant amongst mere mortal men.

Old Cassius, however, was not so intimidated by regal grandeur, and even in his old age he made considerable effort to keep straight backed in order to match the gaze of any man.

"You are both wise and just, noble Caesar." Replied the old man, formulaically. "It is a great shame that others do not share your qualities, or else Rome might well enjoy an age of peace and plenty." An undoubted reference to the awful situation that confronted the new Caesar; mutiny on the Rhine, whispers of disloyalty in the east. This Etruscan princeling walked a thin rope, one that many better men had fallen from. But the centre of power was Rome. It had always been Rome. A few muddied soldiers would not change that.

"Old though I am, I have served the Republic for many decades. My old bones still have some use yet, I fear, if you would put them to use. You need only call on me, noble Caesar, and me and mine shall answer."

Stated Cassius, after a short silence, perhaps wary of giving advice unlooked for to a man he did not truly know save by reputation.

"I thank you. Alas that these are insecure times, noble Caesar."

Cassius the elder smiled thinly, apparently taking the meaning.

"A marriage for them into a family of good stock is all I can hope. All men of honour and women of virtue look to Caesar as an example for us all, especially in this."

Longinus gently advised. None needed reminding of the eccentricities of Nero's reign, of freedmen husbands and eunuch brides, or sad tales of a stolen wife kicked to death by a jealous husband.

"We shall take our leave then, Caesar, if that is all you require of us. You know where to find me."

"Thank you, Caesar. You honour me."

Cassius gave a measured nod of acknowledgement, perhaps even of approval. There seemed to be reason to hope that this Augustus would not prove as erratic or tyrannical as his immediate predecessor. Well, not counting poor old Galba. Whatever test the old senator had set had apparently been passed by the Emperor, for the time being at least.

With the audience seemingly over, the Cassian clan bid their farewells to the Augustus and departed back to their residence on the Palatine.

"I thank you for coming on such short notice.."

Otho stands this time, meeting them just beyond the atrium and at the beginning of a peristyle; table was some feet behind him, with a few slaves or servants seated around it scribbling away at paper and accounts.

"Longinus, you offered the service of your esteemed family, and I now have a place fitting for one of you."

The unfit augustus turns his gaze onto the younger Cassius.

"How old are you, Cassius Minor?"