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Caligula had decided to launch an all-out war against the Germans. Eager to emulate his own father’s triumphs, he assembled an enormous force of some quarter of a million troops, with a huge convoy of military equipment and food. The Emperor himself, however, travelled with a retinue of gladiators, actors and women. When he reached the Rhine he downgraded certain commanders and executed others on the grounds that they had conspired with his sister against him. Caligula then decided that he was the embodiment of Mars, but could find no one to fight him so he arranged for his German bodyguards to sneak across the Rhine and hide in the forest. One day, as the Emperor was finishing lunch, his scouts told him that the enemy were gathering. His bodyguard, pretending to be the enemy, launched a fictitious ambush. Caligula had them captured and brought back in chains. In honour of his triumph, Caligula had all the surrounding trees shorn of their branches and decorated the stumps with trophies. When the news reached Rome, the Senate pretended that Caesar had won a great triumph, and poor Uncle Claudius was sent north to congratulate the victorious Emperor. Caligula was furious that such a clumsy messenger had been sent and had his uncle pitched into the Rhine for his pains.

Eager for a fresh triumph, Caligula marched the army into Gaul, having decided to invade Britain. He assembled his forces along the sea coast in full battle order. Catapults and other engines of war were all primed. Caligula took to sea in a trireme, travelled a short distance and then returned to shore. He ordered the trumpeters to sound the charge. Caligula rode along the beach, instructing his soldiers to attack the sea and use their helmets and shields to pick up shells as plunder and spoils of their great victory against the God Neptune.

After this nonsense, he marched back to Rome. On the way he stopped at Lyons where he auctioned off all of Agrippina’s property and possessions. He also organised a contest in Greek and Latin oratory in which the losers were forced to present the prizes to the winners as well as erase their own contributions, some with a sponge and the worst with their tongues. If they didn’t like this they were given a choice of being beaten with rods or thrown into the nearby river.

Caligula continued his march on Rome, his carts full of seashells. He added a few captives and deserters from Gaul, making them grow their hair long and dyed. These unfortunates were taught a little German and were given barbarian names. Caligula was eager for his Triumph: the Senate and people of Rome had no choice but to accept this farcical turn of events.

Agrippina bore the loss of her property and possessions with equanimity. She listened to such news, nodded and then returned to her flower collection.

One visitor, however, brought secret messages. Cassius Chaerea, a tribune from the Praetorian Guard, had been sent by Caligula to search the island and ensure that Agrippina was observing the terms of her exile. I’ve never met a soldier who looked more like a woman. Agrippina conceded he was better looking than her: tall and graceful with a long, slim, olive face and dark expressive eyes. My mistress said he had lips and eyelashes which any girl would envy. Nevertheless, Cassius was a seasoned soldier and, from the beginning, it was obvious that his heart was not in his task. Agrippina studied him for a few days then summoned me to our usual meeting place on the cliff top.

‘Cassius has brought me news from Rome. The Emperor’s madness is now the talk on everyone’s lips.’

‘And your son?’ I asked, trying to hide my jealousy. ‘You persuaded Chaerea to talk about your son?’

Agrippina smiled and whistled under her breath. ‘Are you jealous, Parmenon?’

‘You dress your hair,’ I replied. ‘You put paint on your face and bathe your body in perfume. You wear the most elegant robes and always arrange for Cassius to sit near you when we eat. You are not trying to seduce him, are you?’

‘Oh, I’ve already done that,’ Agrippina murmured. ‘Last night.’

I recalled Agrippina leaving the evening meal early, complaining she felt unwell, the usual sign that she wished to be left alone. Chaerea had retired an hour later.

‘I didn’t think you’d be so stupid!’ I retorted.

‘What’s Cassius going to say?’ Agrippina snapped. ‘That he dared seduce the Emperor’s disgraced sister? I know every mark on that beautiful body. More importantly, I have found a man who hates Caligula even more than I do. Do you think the army liked that stupid spectacle on the coast, escorting carts back into Rome full of seashells?’

‘That doesn’t make Chaerea a traitor,’ I replied.

‘Oh, Parmenon, think back to last night and the other times we’ve talked with Cassius. Every time I mention Caligula he blushes slightly. I discovered why: Caligula calls Cassius a girl. One of Chaerea’s tasks is to ask the Emperor every day for the personal password.’ Agrippina bit back her laughter. ‘Caligula teases him with replies such as “Vagina”, “Penis” or “Kiss Me Quick”. Can you imagine the roars of laughter which greet this? Cassius also tells me that others hate Caligula just as much as he.’ She tapped me on the hand. ‘Now, for practical news. My husband Domitius has done us all a favour by dying of dropsy. I won’t be a hypocrite — I didn’t give his life a passing thought, so why should I mourn his death?’

‘And your son?’ I demanded.

‘A bouncing boy with red curls. He’s already ordering about the other children in the nursery.’

‘And?’ I demanded. ‘There is something else?’

‘Cassius has brought a pass. You can return to Rome for the winter. I think Caligula wants to find out how his sister is faring. When Cassius leaves, you are to go with him.’

‘To plot, be caught and executed!’ I exclaimed.

‘No, listen.’

Agrippina gripped my wrist, a sign that she was going to impart something important. It always made me shiver, reminding me how Charicles used to take Tiberius’s pulse.

‘Caligula will die,’ Agrippina insisted. ‘And who is there left? Those doddering fools in the Senate may try and restore the Republic but the army won’t allow that.’

‘Your Uncle Claudius?’ I replied.

‘Precisely.’ Agrippina squeezed my wrist even tighter. ‘If Caligula dies suddenly, there’ll be confusion. You and Cassius must ensure that Claudius is hailed as Emperor. He’ll bring me back to Rome.’

Agrippina dropped my wrist. ‘Whatever happens, Parmenon, you must ensure that, somehow, Claudius is brought forward. Naturally, in the chaos following Caligula’s death, my son must be closely protected.’ She got to her feet and pulled me up. ‘By the way, I know you’ve got too tender a heart so Cassius will do this for me — ensure that Caligula’s wife Caesonia and her little brat don’t survive any longer than he does. Now, come! I am sure Cassius is already pining for me and we’ve got preparations to make.’

Chapter 10

‘Chaos: an ill-formed and unordered Mass.’

Ovid, Metamorphoses: 1, 7

It was good to be back in Rome. Despite the winter, the taverns were crowded as usual. After the silence of Pontia, I enjoyed walking through the different quarters watching the barbers shave their customers in the middle of the street, the loud-mouthed hawkers selling their small boxes of sulphur matches and trinkets, the raucous cries of the sausage-sellers with their makeshift mobile ovens. Schoolmasters, ringed by their pupils in a small, dirty square, shouted themselves hoarse. Nearby, a money-changer sifted his coins in a metal grille whilst his assistant pounded with a shiny mallet on clipped and chipped coins. Conjurors and tricksters swarmed everywhere, competing with the beggars. The sheer frenetic bustle of their lives was a sharp contrast to the horrors of Caligula’s court or Agrippina’s seething anger as she plotted her return.