Sejanus

I was getting quietly stewed on the terrace — Perilla was sipping a fruit juice and wrestling with a poem in Alcaean glyconics — when Felix walked in. I hadn't seen him since he'd put out the lamp in our cubby-hole, and I almost swallowed the cup.

'Good evening, sir,' he said. 'Madam. I hope I'm not disturbing you.'

'Uh, no.' I waved him towards a seat. No slaves; even the wine slave had made himself scarce at a nod from Felix. Uh-huh. So this was one of these unofficial visits that weren't actually happening. 'Not so's you'd notice. You know my wife? Perilla, this is Felix.'

'Rufia Perilla.' He ducked his head. 'A pleasure, madam.'

Perilla got up. 'Marcus, if this is business I'll go inside.'

'Really, madam, it's not necessary.' Felix sat down. 'In fact, the emperor told me specifically to make sure you were present.'

'Yeah?' I took a sip of wine. Perilla sat down again. 'So you're working for Tiberius now?'

'No, sir. Perhaps you had better see this as' — he hesitated — 'a joint communiqué. From the emperor and my master together.'

'How is Gaius? Got his first pair of winged sandals yet?'

Felix looked at me. He wasn't smiling now. Not a glimmer.

'Valerius Corvinus,' he said. 'I really would be very careful with the master, if I were you. I won't go into details, but some things you don't joke about, in his hearing or in the hearing of his servants. I say this to you as a friend.'

Gods! I remembered what Thrasyllus had told me, and a cold finger touched my spine. Perilla gave me a sharp look, but I ignored her. 'Yeah. Okay. Forget I said it.'

'I will. Completely. Perhaps that's best for all concerned.'

There was an awkward silence. 'You want some wine?' I said eventually.

'No, thank you, sir.' The smile came back. 'I only came to tell you the news. The plans have been finalised and the emperor thought you'd like to know what they are.'

'Uh huh.' I waited.

'You remember Sertorius Macro?'

'The guard commander? Of course I do.'

'Tiberius is giving him a letter to take to the senate. A letter which ostensibly — and Macro will be careful to let our friend know this — grants Sejanus tribunician power equal to the emperor's own.'

That made sense. Ever since Augustus the ruling emperor's grant of the powers of a People's tribune had been used to mark the imperial succession. A tribune had the right to veto any motion passed by the senate, absolutely and without giving a reason. Also he was personally sacrosanct. Offer violence to a tribune and you'd have several centuries' worth of divine law down on your neck before you could spit. There was no appeal, either. Sejanus had been angling for this for years.

'Ostensibly?' I said.

'The letter is Sejanus's death sentence.' That came out flat. 'The first he'll know of the contents is when the senior consul reads it out in plenary session.'

'Oh, Marcus!' Perilla murmured.

I picked up my wine cup then put it down untasted. My ears were buzzing, and the colours around us seemed somehow sharper. Yeah, sure, I'd expected this, but now it'd come it still knocked me for six. Sejanus had been a fixture for more years than I could count. The thought of Rome without him just didn't register. 'What will the Praetorians be doing meantime?' I said. 'Sejanus is their commander. These guys will be on duty inside the House and outside, and Tiberius can't be sure which way they'll jump. If they take Sejanus's part then we're talking trouble, maybe even civil war if he wins free.'

'Macro will carry another letter which he will show to the Praetorians when Sejanus is safely in his seat. A commission appointing him as Sejanus's replacement. The guards will be told to return to camp with the promise of a cash bounty and their places taken by loyal men from the Urban Cohort.'

Neat. I sat back. It all fitted, and with luck it would work. Sure it would; it had to. And the promise of tribunician power would certainly hook Sejanus like nothing else could. The clever old bugger had done it again.

'There will be no mention of Sejanus's involvement in Drusus's death,' Felix went on. 'Not initially. That subject is…delicate.' Yeah. I'd bet, especially with the Wart's niece Livilla as co-conspirator. 'It will come out later. Perhaps a confession might be arranged. A posthumous one.' I felt Perilla shudder. 'Besides, the emperor is most concerned to use Sejanus's fall to strengthen my master's position. The charges against him will concentrate on his unjust persecutions of the Julians.'

'These being the persecutions that Tiberius knew about and encouraged? Including the plot against Gaius himself?'

Felix didn't answer; not that I'd expected him to. I took a swallow of wine, but it tasted sour. Sure, I knew the Wart's reasons and they made all sorts of sense, but the whole thing sickened me to the stomach. Even a quiet knife in the back would be cleaner than this travesty. 'So. When does all this happen?'

'I think Thrasyllus already mentioned the date to you, sir. The eighteenth.' Five days' time. 'We leave in two days. Perhaps you'd better start packing now.'

It didn't sink in. Not at first. 'You want me to go as well?'

'The emperor thought you would like to be in at the kill.' Felix's lips barely twitched. 'In fact, he insisted on it. He seems to think you deserve most of the credit, and I agree with him. Personally, I'd consider the invitation an honour.'

'Yeah.' I was staring out over the sea. There was nothing between us and Sicily, and the green of the submerged rocks off the coast contrasted sharply with the indigo of the deep sea beyond. 'Yeah. I expect you would at that.'

Perilla reached over and took my hand. She was trembling. 'I'm coming too,' she said.

'The invitation was only for one, madam,' Felix said gently. 'I'm sorry, but that's final. You'll be brought back to Rome when it's all over and the city is safe.'

'How soon will we know?'

Felix hesitated. 'I understand the emperor has arranged a series of signal beacons. In the unlikely event that things go wrong. And, of course, a fast galley. The news should be in Capri within a few hours at most.'

'A fast galley,' I said sourly. 'Is that right?'

'So I believe.'

'Bully for Tiberius.' I tipped the cupful of wine onto the ground. 'Only question is, where could the bastard run?'

37

We went by road, faster this time because we did the journey on horseback, not in coaches. The Wart wasn't taking any chances of a leak; on his instructions Macro stopped at the last posting-station before the city and sent a message ahead telling the senior consul Regulus to convene the senate for the next day.

It was good to be back in Rome, but there was no time for walking around. We split up when we got to the Market Square. Macro had his own fish to fry; when Sejanus turned up he'd have to be on hand outside the senate house to soothe any worries he might have and make sure the guy didn't bolt. Meanwhile I wasn't taking any chances either; I didn't want to be recognised at this late stage, because that would've tipped Sejanus off for sure. Luckily it was a cold day, with the wind blowing from the north, so I could wrap my face in my cloak without looking like a third-rate conspirator. That was even more necessary because I'd had my first shave and haircut for six months: a 'senator' with a curled beard and his hair in a queue would've stood out on the benches like a bull at a eunuch's party as much as one with his head swathed, and without Marcus Ufonius's protective covering it would've been evident to anyone who looked that Corvinus was back in town. I slipped in through a side entrance as unobtrusively as I could and waited in the privy until the tiers were full before shoving my nose inside the chamber itself.