Sejanus

'Everything?' he said.

'Don't be a fool! No, not everything. Just the bare facts.'

The old Greek hesitated. 'If you think it's wise, lord,' he said, 'then certainly, but…'

'Do what you're bloody well told!' Tiberius snapped. 'I take full responsibility. Corvinus here has to know what he's asking of me.'

'Very well.' Thrasyllus turned to me. 'Gaius will be the next emperor. Within the next six years. Not for long, fortunately. Four years after his accession the lord's nephew Cl-'

'Stop!' Tiberius held up a hand. 'That's enough. Well, Corvinus?'

I was staring at the two old men in shock.

'How do you know?' I whispered. 'Jupiter, how can you know?'

'Thrasyllus told me years ago. Before Drusus died, in fact.' Tiberius was watching me closely. 'He had it from his charts. I didn't believe him then, and later I didn't want to. Especially when he told me what kind of emperor my grandson would be, and how he would die. If allowing Sejanus to have his way would spare the empire that' — he spat the word — 'then I was ready to give him his chance. He could be no worse, and the end would've justified the means. However…unpleasant these might appear at the time.'

'Lord, you cannot cheat the stars,' Thrasyllus said softly. 'Sejanus has to fall. Has fallen already, in heaven's eyes.'

'I realise that.' Tiberius was still watching me. 'You think I don't? But I would still try, even now. Corvinus, if I'd known what you were going to tell me I would have ordered Macro to throw you over the cliff unheard. I still would, if I thought that killing you would do me or the empire the barest scrap of good.'

I was shivering, and the hairs stood stiff on my neck.

'Lord, you cannot cheat the stars,' Thrasyllus repeated. 'Not even you can do that.'

'No.' Tiberius's eyes hadn't left my face, 'So now, my friend, you know just what you're asking of me. I'm going to do exactly what you want me to do; I'm going to destroy Sejanus, root and branch, and the responsibility for what follows will belong to you and to the people who sent you. I won't see the result personally, of course, and nor will Thrasyllus, but I wish you and Rome joy of it.'

The soft tap on the door sounded as loud as a hand-clap. I jumped.

'Come in,' Tiberius said calmly. It was the German slave who'd been with the emperor when I arrived. 'Ah, Sigmund. You talked to Macro.'

'Yes, sire.' The German drew himself up. 'The attacker was a slave of Vescularius Flaccus.'

'Good. Thank you. Tell Macro to make sure Flaccus is confined to his rooms until further notice, with no visitors permitted. Then go and ask my grandson Gaius Caesar if he will favour us with an interview.' He turned back to me. 'Flaccus, by the way, is one of my oldest and closest friends. I love him dearly. If it interests you we are now at the start of a witch-hunt, here and at Rome. Several years ago I let Sejanus root out the Julian sympathisers, because there can be only one power in the state. Now I am going to smooth Gaius's path for the same reason by destroying Sejanus's party, completely and utterly. Flaccus is the first. I will be asking both you and my heir presumptive to supply other names. Be thorough. I expect a full list, and if you're in any doubt then include.' I said nothing; I couldn't have spoken. 'You needn't be present at the family gathering; your contribution is already made, and the rest is private business. Needless to say, however, I am grateful and I will give instructions for you to be properly accommodated.' His upper lip lifted. 'Not here, naturally, that wouldn't be wise. In one of the empty villas along the coast. In fact…' He paused. 'You're married, aren't you? To the Rufia girl, if I remember rightly?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Then give Sigmund her address. Only Sigmund, no one else.' It was an order. I swallowed. 'You'll be staying on Capri as my guest until this business is settled and she may as well join you.'

'For how long, sir?' I asked.

'Thrasyllus?'

'The calculations are already done, lord.'

'Really?' Tiberius smiled thinly. 'You surprise me. The date?'

'October the eighteenth is the most propitious.'

'Two and a half months away.' Tiberius turned back to me. 'Plenty of time for a holiday. And you'll miss the summer heat of Rome, Corvinus. You really are a very lucky young man. Now go, please. Quickly, before I change my mind and have you killed.'

I went.

36

Perilla arrived ten days later, on a private boat sent specially to pick her up at Ostia. I met her at the landing-place, the smaller one on the south coast; Tiberius wasn't taking any chances. She looked thin and pinched, and the shadows under her eyes showed she hadn't slept all that much recently. That made two of us.

We hugged each other for a long time.

'You're all right?' she whispered finally.

'Yeah. I'm fine. You?'

'Happy to be here. Very happy.'

I kissed her and let her go. 'You should see the villa the Wart's given us, lady. I hope you like fancy marble and good bronzes.'

Her fingers were still touching my arm. They were trembling.

'Marcus, when the emperor's messengers came for me in Rome I thought you'd been executed,' she said. 'Even on the boat I wasn't sure.'

I stared at her. 'They didn't give you my letter?'

'Yes, of course. But I only half believed in it. Tiberius might have thought a forged letter would bring me more quietly.'

'Yeah.' I swallowed. Sure, and if things had worked out differently that was just what the Wart would have done. Still, I didn't want Perilla to know how close I'd come. 'That all the luggage you've brought?'

'Yes.'

'Ah, well.' I signalled to the waiting slaves to take up her single trunk. 'We won't be going to too many parties anyway. Jupiter! I wish this was over and we were back home. I'm sick of hiding in corners.'

'How long will it be? Before…' She hesitated.

The litter-slaves were waiting, but I waved them on out of earshot. The villa wasn't far, and it was a beautiful day. It was always a beautiful day here. I could see why the Wart preferred Capri to Rome. Not that I shared his opinion. Spectacular scenery's okay to look at, but it doesn't move about all that much, and it doesn't make a noise. 'Before Sejanus is chopped? Two months. That's if everything goes well, of course.'

'Two months?' Perilla stopped and stared at me. 'Why so long?'

I shrugged. 'Something to do with sidereal positions. If that's what you call them.'

'Astrology? Is the emperor mad?'

'Not so's you'd notice. And don't knock astrology.' It'd saved my life, for a start, although I wasn't going to tell her that. Not for a long time. 'If Tiberius takes his pal Thrasyllus's predictions seriously then I wouldn't lay any bets against them coming true. No bets at all.' The hairs on the back of my neck stirred at the memory. Gods alive! First Gaius, then Idiot Claudius! Maybe we should emigrate to Parthia. 'Besides, two months gives him time to plan.'

'Do you think the emperor has a chance? Really?' She was keeping her voice low. 'Marcus, you must have seen those soldiers on the quayside at Surrentum for yourself. They're Praetorians, Sejanus's men. And Sejanus's word is law in Rome.'

'You haven't met the Wart, lady.' I kissed her on the cheek. 'I'd back that grim old bugger against Sejanus any day, even with the whole senate and all of the Praetorians in his pocket.' Yeah, well, but I'd keep my fingers crossed all the same. Perilla was right, the guy was dug in as deep as he could get, and if he even suspected that Tiberius was about to cancel his pension for him he wouldn't go without a fight. 'Let's get up to the villa. The holiday starts here.’

Holiday nothing. By the time October came I was twitching. It was like the Subura flat all over again, only what was driving me mad wasn't the confined space but the peace and quiet. At least in the tenement I could watch what was happening outside the window, maybe broaden my vocabulary when two mule-drivers with full cargoes met head on in the street below. And latterly there'd been the wineshop. Sure, Tiberius's guest accommodation was impressive as hell — better even than I was used to back home — but the guy had us stitched up so tight I couldn't even swap visits with a goat without a passport. Perilla was okay. Half the trunk had been books, and she'd got her writing. Besides, the villa had a library. Me — well, reading isn't my bag, you can only soak up so much fresh air, and when I walk I like to feel limestone flags under my feet. This grass stuff is overrated.