Caligula

Rufus had never seen Narcissus show interest in a woman. 'What do you mean? Is Aemilia in danger?'

'Your naivety never ceases to astound me, young man,' the Greek replied. 'In Caligula's shadow we are all in danger. Perhaps she is in less danger than many, but that would depend on your definition of danger.'

'I don't understand. You talk in riddles.'

'You don't need to understand,' Narcissus said dismissively. 'You are a slave — all you need to do is obey. Have you anything for me?'

Rufus thought back to the hours in the little cell below the Praetorian barracks. Yes, he had much he could tell, but now was not the time. He still did not fully understand his meeting with Chaerea. Any missed nuance could have serious consequences. If some of the information reached the wrong ears, those consequences would be fatal. First let Narcissus show his faith.

'No, but have you been able to help Fronto?'

The Greek's eyes went hard. 'He is beyond help. Forget him,' he said coldly, and turned away.

But Rufus was not to be allowed to forget Fronto.

XXXV

The summons arrived one evening two weeks later during preparations for the chariot races that would mark the festival of Consus.

The guards who came for him ordered that he wash and dress in his best clothing, and, with Livia watching apprehensively and holding her swollen belly, escorted him through the park to the palace.

Their destination was the room with the great silver table, but this time there was a difference. Rufus was the first guest to arrive.

Caligula lounged on his padded couch on a raised dais and studied him closely. 'Here, elephant boy.' He waved a hand in the direction of the couch closest to him. 'But first I have some questions for you.'

Rufus felt his bowels turn to ice as the two Praetorians pushed him in front of the Emperor.

'You wouldn't plot against me, would you, elephant boy?' the Emperor enquired in a voice as honeyed as the confections that sweetened the end of his feasts.

'N-n-n-no, majesty,' Rufus quaked, ashamed of his fear.

Caligula laughed lightly. 'N-n-n-no,' he mimicked. 'You sound just like Uncle Claudius. Not that it would save you. Claudius plots, you know, Claudius and that scheming Greek of his. I'll get rid of them both soon. So you don't plot?'

Rufus shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

'You see, a little bird — well, a little spy, actually — tells me you have been consorting with that old master of yours, the hairy one. What is his name? The animal trader? I forget. You too? Never mind. Not thinking of returning to him, are you?'

Rufus shook his head again.

'Good. That would be a mistake. Protogenes tells me the hairy animal trader is a plotter. Isn't that right, Protogenes?'

'Yes, majesty,' a harsh affirmation rasped from somewhere to Rufus's right and he realized Protogenes must have silently entered the room while Caligula was questioning him.

'So if you were to plot with him, that would make you my enemy and I'd have to have you executed. Do you agree?' Caligula continued.

Rufus didn't know whether to nod in agreement that it would be perfectly reasonable for the Emperor to execute him or shake his head and risk calling Caligula a liar. He did neither.

'But you aren't a plotter?'

Now he shook his head until he thought it was going to fall off.

'Excellent. If I had to kill you, who would look after my elephant? Protogenes says he once saw an elephant walk along a rope suspended above the ground,' he added conversationally. 'I don't believe him, though. You're a liar, Protogenes,' the last in a great shout that almost made Rufus faint with fright. 'How big a rope would you need to support an elephant? Come, sit here, at my side.'

From his vantage point to the left of the Emperor's dais, Rufus was able to see the other guests enter the room by a doorway behind the couch where Protogenes lay with a sneer of anticipation on his ravaged face: Chaerea, who greeted him with a cold smile of recognition, and a beautiful girl much too young to be his wife; Appeles, the third of the ever-presents, sporting a purple bruise on his cheekbone, new scars just visible through his blond hair, and darting scared glances at the Emperor; and Cornelius Aurius Fronto.

There were further arrivals, but Rufus barely noticed them.

Fronto was visibly terrified, his whole body racked by spasms. The only colour in his sweat-sheened face was in the purple rings beneath his eyes, and his toga hung on a skeletal frame. Rufus swore he could hear the old man's heart thundering against his ribcage, until he realized the galloping rhythm was that of his own.

The banquet began as normal, each course removed almost before it was touched. Caligula chatted languidly to Chaerea, the pale blue eyes running lazily over the Praetorian commander's partner in a sensual way that suggested he had already chosen his companion for the evening's entertainment. The other guests draped themselves across their couches and tried to look relaxed, picking at a morsel here, a sweetmeat there. Rufus touched nothing.

Protogenes's dull, merciless eyes never left Fronto.

Finally, the Emperor eased himself into a sitting position and turned to face the animal trader. But it was to Protogenes that he spoke.

'Tell me, Protogenes, how does our business prosper?'

Protogenes picked up the thicker of his scrolls and unrolled it with exaggerated care, studying it closely before he replied. 'It prospers, majesty, but perhaps not as it might.'

Caligula reacted with mock surprise. 'And why, Protogenes, why do we not prosper?'

'I fear we are being cheated, majesty,' the imperial aide said solemnly.

Fronto, becoming more agitated with each sentence, let out an agonized croak: 'No, it is — '

Caligula raised a palm to silence the old man. 'Cheated? Who dares cheat your Emperor?'

'I do not know, majesty,' Protogenes admitted, obviously pained by his ignorance.

'But surely your little books know everything? What do they inform us?'

With feigned reluctance, Protogenes again consulted his scrolls. 'It appears the animal trader, Fronto, has been using his position to divert your majesty's profits into his own hands,' he said.

'And how much do you calculate he has defrauded us of, Protogenes? You must know, you are so clever with figures,' Caligula added with overstated irony.

'This Fronto has been particularly devious, majesty. Much is hidden, but I would say he has stolen several thousand sesterces which should have gone to your treasury.'

'Such a sum?'

'Yes, majesty.'

'And what is the penalty for this crime?'

Protogenes thought for a moment, providing a theatrical pause. 'Death, majesty,' he pronounced with finality.

Rufus saw Fronto flinch as if he had been struck. On the underside of his couch beads of yellow liquid gathered and then dripped to form a small pool on the marble floor. A familiar yeasty smell made itself known over the aroma of the perfumed candles. From the corner of his eye, Rufus noticed Chaerea slip from his couch and vanish into the shadow of the room's outer edge.

'Yes, death,' confirmed Caligula. 'But did you not inform me that this man was a diligent servant before he strayed from the path of honesty?'

'That is true, majesty,' Protogenes admitted.

'Then we are inclined to be merciful.' Caligula smiled at Fronto, who stared at him with the wide eyes of a rabbit trapped by a hunting weasel. 'You are fined ten million sesterces.'

A gasp came from the Emperor's dining companions, astonished at the enormous sum, quickly followed by dutiful laughter.

'Of course, you must pay immediately,' Protogenes informed the bewildered Fronto, who had, for a split second, been overwhelmed by hope. 'You can't? Such a pity.'