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Claudius was undoubtedly tiring of Messalina’s strident ways, her jealousy, her fury when her will was blocked. So Agrippina prepared to make her first move. The secular games were being held in Rome, and Nero was invited to take part whilst Agrippina joined Claudius in the imperial box. Messalina and her coterie were also there, and Agrippina watched them avidly, fascinated by Messalina’s open flaunting of her favourites. One of these, Vitellius, Governor of Palestine, was even allowed to carry one of Messalina’s slippers next to his heart as a token of his undying love for her. We all settled down, and watched Nero, aged eleven, and Britannicus, aged nine, lead the procession into the arena. Both boys, their hair dressed in decorative garlands, carried long, sharp javelins, a bow and quiver over their backs and around their necks chains of gold. When Nero came forward and saluted the Emperor, he was greeted by thunderous, rapturous applause, a sharp contrast to the courteous cheers and polite hand claps that greeted Britannicus: Domina had hired a special claque and they did a brilliant job. Messalina turned in her chair and glared at Agrippina, who smiled icily back, her message clear: Agrippina, daughter of Germanicus, had returned to Rome and her war with Messalina had only just begun. Afterwards I advised caution, but as usual Agrippina just ignored me.

‘What can the bitch do?’ she taunted. ‘Attack me? Attack the grandson of Germanicus? Rome would not tolerate it. It’s time we went to work, Parmenon.’

The invitations to Claudius and his freedmen Narcissus and Pallas increased, but at these evenings Agrippina began to look anxious and troubled, refusing to tell Claudius the reason. At last she produced Styges, an Egyptian soothsayer, a mountebank who could convince even prudent men that he had the gift of seeing the future. At first Agrippina pretended to be reluctant to let her self-styled seer inform the Emperor of what he had divined. Only when Claudius cleared the chamber and took the most solemn oaths, did Styges reveal that he had dreamed the husband of Messalina was in great danger.

‘Not Messalina herself?’ Claudius asked.

‘No, Excellency, her husband.’

‘But, but. .’ Claudius stammered. ‘What can be done? What shall I do?’

Agrippina reminded Claudius of the oath he had taken not to tell anyone of the seer’s prophecy. The Emperor, now hooked like the fish he was, asked Agrippina for advice.

‘At the moment the danger is some time off,’ Domina replied. ‘But, Excellency, you must plan how to deal with it. If Messalina. .’ She let her words hang in the air.

‘If Messalina what?’ Claudius demanded.

‘If Messalina could be encouraged to take another husband, just for a while. .’

Claudius blinked and glanced at me. ‘Wh- wha- what do you think, Parmenon?’

I stared at my mistress, who was acting to the full her role as concerned Roman matron. She held my gaze, and I glimpsed the laughter in her eyes.

‘The most important thing, your Excellency,’ I insisted, ‘is the health and safety of your sacred person. That’s why you must keep this warning to yourself. If it became public knowledge. .’

Claudius bit his lip.

‘Think of it this way, your Excellency,’ I continued, ‘danger threatens on all sides, but that is part of your sacred duty. Didn’t the divine Caesar, the noble Augustus, and all the great heroes of Rome have to face danger?’

Claudius nodded. Oh, in many ways he was such a great fool!

‘What Domina Agrippina wishes to ensure,’ I explained smoothly, ‘is that there is protection between you and that danger.’

Claudius poked me sharply in the chest. ‘You could become Messalina’s husband for a while, but no bed sport, mind you.’ He threw his head back and bellowed with laughter at the look of consternation on my face.

‘I was only joking,’ he wheezed. ‘Messalina would never have anything to do with someone who was not only of inferior rank but ugly with it!’

I smiled in acknowledgement of his wit.

Once the Emperor had gone, Agrippina made me share her couch. She embraced and kissed me on the lips and licked my ear.

‘Clever boy, Parmenon,’ she whispered. ‘We have the rod, we have the line, the fish is near. All we need to do is choose the bait.’

Agrippina now dug deep into her treasury and started to throw the most lavish of parties. Invitations were extended to every member of the high society of Rome although Claudius and Messalina were quietly ignored. Agrippina’s chefs became the toast of the city, serving dishes such as ostrich brains and peas mixed with gold, or lentils on a bed of precious stones, so the guests were both well-fed and well-rewarded. Plump chickens, sows’ udders, sucking pig, hot boiled goose, stuffed hare, venison, bream and the tastiest oysters fresh from the dredge were all on offer. Troupes of poets, musicians, dancers and entertainers were hired. Agrippina was the most charming of hostesses, flirting and dallying with all the most eligible bachelors until she found her prey: Gaius Silius, probably the handsomest man I have ever met. He had the looks, body and deportment of a Greek god, with a brain as thick and as dead as a statue. Agrippina acted the role of the infatuated maiden, lavishing attention and gifts on him, and pretending to be distraught when he was absent. Their affair became the talk of Rome and attracted the attention of Messalina, who had her own plans for young Silius. A romantic tug of war took place which was won by Messalina. She and the young bachelor became utterly infatuated with each other, united not only in lust but a desire to mock and shame Agrippina in the eyes of others.

The lavish banquets ceased and Agrippina became more reclusive. Claudius and his freedmen were now invited to little private supper parties where Agrippina and the Emperor could converse closely together. Claudius was full of anger about his wife’s conduct, but Agrippina quietly reminded Claudius of Styges’s prophecy, gently coaxing Claudius to let the adulterous pair have their heads. The Emperor submitted and, when Messalina’s infatuation with Silius only deepened, Claudius’s powerful ministers, Narcissus and Pallas, entered the game.

Claudius was persuaded to go to Ostia to make sacrifice, and whilst he was away, Agrippina moved into the imperial quarters as the guest of Pallas. At last Agrippina was able to drop her mask and invited Narcissus, Pallas and myself to a secret meeting.

‘This is truly ridiculous,’ Agrippina began. ‘The Emperor, my Uncle Claudius, is being made a cuckold, a public laughing stock.’

Of course, she made no reference to her own involvement in this affair or the way she’d persuaded Claudius to turn a blind eye to what the rest of Rome was talking of. Pallas and Narcissus needed little encouragement: they were tired of Messalina, fearful of her terrible rages. If the opportunity presented itself, they were both prepared to strike speedily and ruthlessly.

‘I have heard rumours,’ Agrippina said. ‘That Messalina and Silius intend to marry.’

Narcissus and Pallas cried out in disbelief.

‘It is true,’ Agrippina insisted. ‘They are going to hold their own Bacchanalian festival and celebrate a marriage both unlawful and impious.’

After intense discussion, it was agreed that, if such a ceremony took place, Claudius should immediately confront his wife. Messengers were sent speeding off to Ostia, beseeching Claudius to return, and Agrippina and the freedmen met him in the Praetorian camp outside the city. They produced witnesses who described in every detail Messalina’s affair with Silius, their proposed bigamous marriage and a litany of previous infidelities. Claudius, trembling, at first panicked.

‘Am I still Emperor?’ he demanded of Narcissus and Agrippina. ‘Will Silius become Emperor in my place?’

Agrippina calmed him down and advised him precisely what to do.

The information Agrippina had gathered about Messalina’s activities, proved to be astonishingly accurate. Messalina and Silius, their brains turned by arrogance and lust, performed a marriage ceremony in the palace grounds, acting out the rituals of a grape harvest. Messalina and her female friends were garbed in animal skins, as if they were Maenads, whilst Silius and his cronies were dressed as satyrs. Frenzied in their drunkenness, they threw all constraints aside: men and women made love to each other in the shade of trees in wine-induced orgies, three or four men taking one woman, their performance watched and cheered by the others. Agrippina’s spies reported back to the Praetorian camp, and, by late afternoon, Claudius had recovered both his wit and his courage.