Sejanus

He waited. I swallowed and opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Finally the emperor shifted irritably on his couch.

'Good Jupiter, man!' he snapped. 'I haven't got all day to waste! Sigmund, put some wine into him!'

The slave poured from a jug on the table and held the cup out to me. I drained it in two gulps and felt the warmth hit my stomach like a velvet club.

'I'm sorry, sir,' I said at last. 'I thought I was going to be executed.'

'What makes you think that you won't be?' The old mouth twisted again, like a pike's. 'In fact, I'd say it was almost a certainty.' He made a sign to the German. 'Pour me one too while you're about it, Sigmund, and damn the doctors.' He waited until the order had been carried out. 'So, then. How did my lads get you, exactly? A fight on the cliff edge, wasn't it?'

'I was attacked, sir. Attempted murder, by a slave. Or possibly a freedman.'

'Whose slave?' The question came fast and hard as a catapult bolt. 'Why?'

'I don't know.'

'You don't know?' Tiberius's boil-ridden face flushed and he made a ttch! of disgust in his throat. 'Sigmund! Talk to Macro.' The guard commander. 'Find out the truth.' Then, when the slave hesitated: 'Go on, man, do as you're told! Valerius Corvinus isn't likely to murder me while you're away.' He turned back to me. 'Or are you, Corvinus?'

'Uh…no, sir,' I said. I wouldn't like to try it, either. I'd never experienced Tiberius at short range before, and now I could see how the leathery old bastard had managed to hold the empire together for seventeen years as emperor and almost twice that as Augustus's best general. The Wart would take some killing, and he wouldn't die easy.

The big German left, and Tiberius smiled his fanged not-quite-smile.

'Very well, Marcus Valerius Messalla Corvinus,' he said. 'You have the wine jug beside you and we're alone. So talk.'

Hell’s teeth! Where did I start? 'I've no proof Sejanus is committing treason, sir,' I said. 'None. Apart from the testimony of a couple of slaves your grandson is holding.'

He raised a hand sharply. 'We'll leave Gaius out of this. We were discussing Sejanus. What about him?'

Okay, if he wanted candour he'd get it. Besides, it looked like I had nothing to lose.

'He's plotting to succeed you as emperor,' I said.

'Oh, is that all?' Tiberius grinned at me. I'd expected him to be practically toothless, but he wasn't, far from it: his teeth were strong and yellow, like an old dog's snarl. 'You thought I didn't know? Corvinus, I may be many things but I'm not a dotard, I'm not a simpleton, and I'm not blind. If Sejanus wants this…apology for a life' — I don't think I'd ever heard such contempt in a voice before — 'then he's welcome to it. Only after I've done with it, naturally, and he isn't fool enough to think otherwise. And why shouldn't he be emperor? The man has most of the qualities needed, and at least he's no canting hypocrite like Augustus or a sour, twisted old society-hater like myself.'

I was staring at him. Jupiter! the guy didn't mince words, did he?

'He has his vices, naturally.' Tiberius was looking at me in a speculative way that I found unsettling as hell. 'However, his virtues more than balance them. Ordinary people may not see these virtues for what they are, they may even confuse them with the vices. But an emperor isn't deceived. He makes no mistakes because he has the virtues himself or can appreciate their occurrence in another man if he lacks them.' The upper lip lifted again. 'You'll note that modesty isn't included in the list. On the other hand, ruthlessness and perhaps the capacity for treachery are. Successful treachery, that is, rooted firmly in ambition. An emperor can't be weak. A weak ruler means a weak state.' He emptied his cup. 'My throat's dry. Pour me some more wine. And fill for yourself.'

I did both. I was feeling pretty fazed. 'Sir,' I said, 'I don't know what to say now. If you've decided, knowing that Sejanus is a traitor, that he'll make you a worthy successor and Rome a good emperor, then most of what I had to tell you isn't relevant. You may as well send me home or execute me now.'

'Don't you presume to advise me, young man!' He frowned and lay back on his couch. 'And don't be too hasty to condemn yourself, either. Haste isn't a virtue, in anyone's canon. Didn't your father teach you that?'

'He tried. Yeah.'

'Tried, did he? Well, that's something.' The frown deepened into a scowl. 'Messalinus wasn't much, but at least he was loyal to Rome. Loyal enough for me to owe his son a fair hearing. So present your case. In an orderly fashion, please.' Then, when I hesitated: 'Corvinus, listen to me. I'll only say this once. When I commanded armies — commanded them directly, I mean, not from a bloody couch — no one ever accused me of unfairness. Harshness, yes, but a general has to be harsh. He can't afford mercy, it's far too expensive in the long run. Nor can he afford to settle for a sanitised version of the truth, because that is even more dangerous. So traduce Sejanus to me as much as you please, so long as the traduction hangs together, and pity help you, young man, if it doesn't. I may interrupt, but it will be for reasons of argument, not of censure. And argument, by Hades, is what you will give me. Is that clear?'

'Clear, sir.' I swallowed. I was gambling with my life here, and I knew it. One false step and I was dead. 'Very well. You know that Sejanus destroyed your adopted son Germanicus? I mean for his own reasons?'

'Yes, I know that.'

'And that he systematically ruined the Julians? Again through his own ambitions?'

'Corvinus.' Tiberius sighed, as if I'd disappointed him. 'I don't share my late mother's personal dislike for Augustus's direct descendants, but I agree with her absolutely that the Julians had and have no divine mandate to rule. They're basically an unstable family and must be judged on their merits as individuals, taking the security of the empire as the one and only criterion. And once judged they must be dealt with accordingly, with no half measures or false sympathy. Now is that clear?'

'You include Gaius in that statement, sir?'

'Damn you, I've already said that we'll leave Gaius aside! My grandson is a special case, for reasons I don't wish to discuss with you.' He gulped down his wine and held out the cup. Trying to keep my hand steady, I leaned over and poured. 'Obviously it is not clear. Perhaps the fault lies in me, but I suspect the reason is your own stupidity.' I said nothing. 'Very well, I'll put it more plainly. To take the more recent examples. Germanicus was a shallow, idealistic fool. As emperor, he would have been disastrous for Rome, and Rome is well rid of him. Agrippina has far greater possibilities, but Agrippina is a woman, and she hates too openly and with her heart, not her brain. A fatal flaw. Her hatred would corrupt any weakling she married, and she could only bear to marry a weakling. You understand that?'

'Yes, sir. I understand.'

'Good. Of Agrippina's sons Nero was a milksop without a mind of his own and Drusus a potential madman who inherited the worst qualities of both his parents. I gave them their chance. They failed the test and were discarded.'

'And Drusus, sir? Your son?'

He was silent for a long moment, a purple flush spreading over his ruined cheeks. Finally he said, too quietly:

'Corvinus, freedom of speech is one thing, but you border on insolence. Drusus died. And he was not a Julian.'

'An assessment. Please.' This was no time for politeness. I might be out of order, but my neck was on the line here and I knew it. Tiberius gave me a long considering scowl.

'Very well,' he said at last. 'My son Drusus would have made an emperor. A good one. Knowing that, I treated him hard, as Augustus treated me, Used him, rather. He survived, as I survived. That is one thing kings and emperors must learn before they become kings and emperors, because once they have supreme power no one else can teach them it. They learn to use others but not to be used themselves, and that last is crucial because above them there is always the state. They may end up hating their teacher, as I hated Augustus, but that is unimportant. The lesson is too vital to be omitted, and far too vital for simple human considerations to affect.' He paused. 'Am I making myself clear now?'