Fanina gave a shrug. When would she cease to fret about unimportant matters? After all, Sejanus was merely following the rites of a world that she was going to force him to destroy.
Forgetting her fears, Fanina smiled, and sought to see in this ceremony, drawing to its conclusion amidst loud acclaim, no more than the symbol of the boundless power she herself held through this man, whose heart was hers.
Chapter Twenty
Paved with an admirable Alexandrine mosaic illustrating the fabled loves of Jupiter and Leda, the terrace of the vast house, perched proudly on the Caelian Mount facing the Palatine Mount, stood considerably higher than the roofs of the wealthy neighbouring houses. It was surrounded by a delicate colonnade of peach-blossom marble that supported the bronze framework of a scarlet and gold awning.
The twelve slave-girls crowded affectionately round Fanina’s chair.
‘Mistress,’ said Lhena, ‘what can we do for you?’
‘Mistress,’ said Sthena, ‘would you like me to play the harp?’
‘We do not like to see you sad, Mistress,’ said Marrha in her turn.
Bare to the waist, with beautiful figures and all very young, having a kind of inborn elegance, they came from Syene, not far from the first cataract on the Nile. Not one of them knew Latin, and as a further precaution, they were strictly confined to the suite where for the past six months they had shared the life of their mistress, Fanina, who spoke their language so well, and made their tasks light, and whom they adored for her surpassing kindness.
‘Mistress ...’ begged Hyra, lifting up her big dark eyes with their long, harmoniously curled eyelashes, to look at Fanina.
‘Leave me, please,’ Fanina murmured.
Sadly, the slaves left her. She stood up and leaned on the balustrade. At her feet lay the city from which rose a muffled humming noise. Far away below where she stood, in the streets, in the squares, on the slopes of Mount Palatine, lived swarms of people, going peaceably about their business, taking the air and wandering through the streets.
Fanina clenched her fists. From the vantage point of this observatory she had seen a spring and a summer pass over the Roman campagna, whose wonderful colours were already beginning to fade in the distance.
It was mid-October.... Was it possible? She had been there for over six months and was no further ahead than the day she arrived. She had visualized herself hurling herself forthwith into a struggle about which she knew nothing save that she wanted it to be intense, passionate, perilous, unremitting. She had imagined that she would see all her friends again immediately. She had seen herself meting out punishment to her enemies who were also the enemies of the people she had sworn to defend.
But none of these things had happened. She had let herself be ensnared by Sejanus into a life of excessive comfort and a degree of luxury that overwhelmed her. She had allowed herself to be caught up in the highly subtle game of this most skilful player whose cunning machinations were too much for her.
And how did Sejanus see the struggle? As a series of endless underhand deals that would leave him master of the situation if Tiberius were to cease thinking of him as his successor and try to divest him of his power.
‘Things are beginning to take shape, my love!’ he would say, rubbing his hands together, whenever Fanina questioned him. ‘Before the year is out, if Tiberius does not decide to go, we shall be in a position to send him packing without much trouble.’
‘Unless Tiberius is the one who sends you packing!’ Fanina retorted angrily. ‘At the game you’re playing, he is the stronger.’
‘But he would have to have some suspicion of what is going on, and to have got his wits back. The poor man is sinking into complete senility, and he just adores me since I sent him back the money that scum Hermann stole from him.’
That had been the only spectacular event of those past months. Surrounded by the Praetorian cohorts who had been dispatched to hunt them down, Hermann and the few survivors of his little band had sold their lives dearly then committed suicide, taking with them the secret of their mysterious escapade.
Fanina was still looking at the city turned to gold in the rays of a slowly setting sun. Her eyes grew misty with tears. That roof with the faded tiles, whose worn ridge she never tired of contemplating, there behind the temple of Mars Gradivus which partly hid it from her sight, that was the roof of the house in which she had been born, where she had spent her early years and where her parents had committed suicide. Those pink roofs from which rose thin whisps of smoke were the rooftops of the House of Vestals.
There they were, so close, the dwellings that had formed the pure, confident, vulnerable Fanina, upon whom Destiny had unleashed its fury.
There they were, so close, Vibidia and her sisters the vestals, whose peaceful activities Fanina followed with intense interest through the brief handwritten items in the Acta Diurna Populi Romani.
Sometimes, in a fit of anger, Fanina would order Sejanus to arrange for her to meet the Supreme Vestal.
‘Beloved,’ he would reply gently, ‘are you forgetting that the Supreme Vestal is one of the few people whom I know for certain to be moving heaven and earth to get rid of me? If it were not for the fact that I have been lucky enough to intercept her letters, they would have informed the Emperor a long time ago of what I am plotting. Be patient. Once the victory is ours you shall see her again.’
Fanina now had nothing to link her with her past life. Her first wish as she settled into her new home had been to find Hemonia, her old nurse again. This time Sejanus had not tried any excuses. His spies had searched Rome and after lengthy investigations, their report had plunged Fanina in despair. Hemonia had been confined by Brazen-beard in his Subura house and had vanished in the fire that had devastated the area.
Hemonia burned alive on the very night that Fanina’s parents had committed suicide, the night she had lost Vindex.... Hemonia must have died a terrible death not far away while Fanina was in Brazen-beard’s garden! Hemonia who was part of herself! She must avenge her death.
Once again, Sejanus had begged Fanina to be patient. On account of his links with the imperial family, and the fact that he was the leader of one of the most powerful factions in Roman politics, Brazen-beard must be spared for the moment. They must bide their time. Patience ... Patience ... Patience....
Night was falling. From far away she could hear the mournful sound of a trumpet. In a few moments now the night watchmen, their heavy shoes ringing on the cobbles, would begin their nightly rounds. That heavy pounding of feet that so often wakened her from her slumbers! What memories it stirred up!
Vindex, very much present in spite of all she did to forget him, and in spite of the fact that she had learned from the Acta Diurna that he had returned to Baiae, no doubt to that woman Calpurnia! It was an entertaining kind of military career that this brilliant tribune was Having, whose campaigns were conducted against the delightful background of the most famous of all pleasure cities in the Empire!
Horo, the dwarf in the russet leather cloak who had terrified her for so long, once the handsome lover of the unhappy Rhoxolana, where was he now? Since his furtive appearance at Forum Aureln Fanina had not caught a single glimpse of him.
She straightened up suddenly. She had been living too long with her memories, and she was weary of waiting, always waiting....
With rapid steps she crossed the terrace, and walked down the monumental staircase of blue porphyry that led to her rooms. Smiling and eager, the slave-girls rushed towards her, but she stopped them with a gesture. Suddenly these too beautiful slaves who loved her as much as she loved them, were beginning to get on her nerves. Everything was getting on her nerves. Everything here was too good for the daughter of Senator Faninus, whose contempt for luxury was proverbial. To begin with there was this fabulous house furnished with unparalleled refinement and luxury: it was panelled in the rarest marble from the Archipelago, from Syria, Egypt and Numidia; decorated with frescos by Ludius, monochromes by Aglao
phon, paintings by Apelles and Polygnotus; filled with wax images by Lysistrates and sculptures by Phidias, Lysippus, Praxiteles and Myron ... and that polished gold mirror edged with precious stones in which she could see herself from head to foot. And all those chests full to overflowing with jewels so exquisite that she did not dare to wear them....
‘Gryllus! Romilius!’ she called imperiously.
Running to her call, the two decurions whom Sejanus had stationed to stand guard over Fanina, appeared in the antechamber.
‘Illustrious Sejanus, quick! I want to talk to him!’
‘What does illustrious Bella want?’ echoed the commander of the Praetorians.
Smiling, Sejanus appeared behind the two guards who immediately vanished.
‘What does my beloved want of me?’
The slave-girls had disappeared as well. Fanina and Sejanus stood alone in the vast room around which her living quarters were arranged.
‘Only my freedom, Lucius!’
Fanina’s reply had come clear, sharp and brutal. Pale with shock, the commander of the Praetorians stared at her.
‘What do you mean?’ he stammered.
‘Just what I said! In a few moments I shall have left you.’
Open-mouthed, both hands clutching his heart, he could not believe what he had heard. Taking him by the arm, Fanina led him over to a chair on to which he collapsed.
What had she to reproach him for, except his wait-and-see policy, I he underhand game he had chosen rather than the open fight she had desired, and in which, with his undeniable courage and military skill, she knew he could succeed? Nothing else. For the past six months, the commander of the Praetorians could hardly have done more to make her happy. He idolized her. He was ruining himself for her. He was no doubt less ardent than a younger man, but less selfish too, and was the most attentive of lovers. He delighted in awakening Fanina’s desire, then sought to satisfy it in the most skilful and long-drawn-out way possible. His skills were inexhaustible when it came to making love, and she was more than satisfied on the physical plane.
‘I am weary of waiting, Lucius, do you see?’ she went on more gently.
He made as if to interrupt her.
‘My decision is irrevocable, Lucius.’
He leapt up, seized her by the shoulders and crushed her passionately to his breast.
‘But you won’t have to wait any more, beloved!’ he cried, transfigured by an inexpressible joy. ‘Victory is ours! The Emperor has at last made up his mind to confer the powers of tribune on me, which will make me his equal and sacred in everyone’s eyes! The day after tomorrow, a courier will bring a letter to the Senate which will make the decision public.’
Now it was Fanina’s turn to look at him in astonishment.
‘It’s true, by Jupiter who hears me!’ Sejanus insisted. ‘So true is it tiiat I need no longer keep you hidden away. I am sufficiently sure of myself now to allow you to come to the banquet to celebrate the news, which I am giving this evening for those who have helped me in this enterprise.’
‘And what if someone recognizes me?’ Fanina stammered.
‘What does it matter! You have nothing more to fear. I am so happy, so happy! And it is undoubtedly thanks to you, whom the gods placed at my side, that this miracle has occurred just when I was beginning to doubt if it ever would.’
Then turning round he called:
‘Marrha! Khera! Tasha! Lhena!’
In a trice the slave-girls came rushing from their rooms. ‘Tell them to dress you as magnificently as possible, to do your hair and to adorn you; get them to make a queen of you, more splendidly attired than Cleopatra ever was.’
Radiant, Fanina translated her lover’s words, and in a flash the whole suite was buzzing with animation.
Sejanus’s intimate friends, even his bodyguards would not have recognized him at that moment. He was deliriously happy. Hustling the bewildered slaves, tearing Fanina’s tunic to get it off her, he untied her hair, and tipped the coffers of precious jewels over the floor, scattering their treasures on the ground.
‘I don’t want to see you any more in those white tunics you will insist on wearing! The time has gone when you could dress simply like a priestess, my love! You are not in the temple any more, by Jupiter! Soon you will be going out! You will show yourself everywhere ! You will brighten the city with your beauty!’
Rushing hither and thither, he chivvied the dressers and the ornamenters as they busied themselves about their mistress.
‘Do stop pestering these poor girls,’ Fanina said gently, ‘or I shall never be ready.’
He went on, inexhaustibly:
‘Only an hour ago I thought all was lost. I don’t know how, but the rumour was going around Rome that Tiberius was furious with me and preparing to disown me. Some of the Senators who only yesterday would have stooped to any baseness on my account, were no longer on speaking terms with me. I heard people laugh as I went by ... the fools! As if, in any case, I were not master of the situation, since I am at the head of almost all the legions, and the governors of all the provinces are either relatives or close friends, not to mention that I control the treasury!’
As he stood there before Fanina, he leaned towards her and went on more quietly:
‘I had already called together all those who have helped me so far, in order to decide to launch the blow the day after tomorrow, a month earlier than we had originally planned, when a message from the Emperor was brought to me which my agents had intercepted in Naples. That message from Tiberius contained the news I have just given you. Power is coming to us, Bella, without a hitch, quite legally, as I had always hoped; for I feared that some other ambitious person one day, encouraged by our example, might try to do the same thing and rise against us at the first sign of weakness. For one coup d’etat leads to another, and so on until the final disaster.’
‘But in any case, our power would have been quite legal, since we are going to bring back the Republic,’ Fanina remarked softly. ‘It was Tiberius’s power that was not legal.’
‘You look wonderful!’ Sejanus broke in, bringing the big glittering gold mirror over to her. ‘Wonderful! Look!’
‘You never have looked so beautiful, Mistress,’ said Hyra in her language; she was the adorner who had divided Fanina’s thick golden hair into a host of tiny shell-like curls, which she had cunningly set one upon the other to make a brilliant golden halo around Fanina’s lovely face.
Fanina looked at herself in the mirror. She did not know herself, liver since she had left the House of Vestals, she had always dressed her hair very simply in a huge twist about her head, reminiscent of the ritual headdress of the priestesses. For the first time in her life she found herself conforming to the canons of fashion, and was up to date.
Then Marrha, the first dresser, removed the big square of linen that had protected Fanina’s dress. Fanina stood up, stiff after sitting still for so long, while the slave-girls stood on either side of the commander of the Praetorians admiring their work.
‘That costume looks wonderful on you, Mistress,’ said Marrha as she lightly re-adjusted the folds of the long scarlet silken tunic embroidered with gold that fell in harmonious folds from Fanina’s high bosom to her feet.
‘They’re admiring you, aren’t they?’ Sejanus exclaimed in delight.
Then, tenderly offering his arm to Fanina, he walked with her into the antechamber. As they were about to leave, he turned to the slaves who stood watching them go and beckoned to them to follow.
‘I have very few servants whom I can trust implicitly,’ he confided to Fanina. ‘I have removed all those I am not sure of from table duty and I fear that the service may be found wanting. These girls can replace them, and as they don’t understand our language they won’t be able to repeat what we say ... and they are very pretty, which is all to the good.’
Slowly they descended the broad staircase that led to the banqueting hall from which arose sounds of merrymaking and singing. Fanina was v
ibrant with emotion. In a few moments she would see the faces of all the people she had so often visualized risking their lives to topple the hated rule of Tiberius and to establish a better, freer, more fraternal world, the world she had always dreamed of. She felt her heart brimming over with joy.
The twelve amber-skinned servants acted as their escorts, and the light from the torch-holders fixed at intervals along their way threw into sharp relief their statuesque naked breasts.
This was the first time since they had arrived in Sejanus’s house that these young women had ever left Fanina’s suite. Their hips swaying gracefully as they walked; they smiled happily.
Chapter Twenty-one
‘Evoe! Evoe! Here he comes at last!’
‘Here comes the Conquering Hero!’
‘Here comes the Elect of the Gods!’
‘Ave, Imperator!’
There was a rush towards them. No sooner had Sejanus made his appearance in the banqueting hall than a group of men clad in loose white tunics clustered round him, thumping him enthusiastically, pushing past one another to embrace him, laughing, talking and shouting simultaneously.
‘How you have kept us waiting, by Pollux!’
‘So in the end, we threw etiquette to the winds and asked for something to drink ...’
‘And to eat too.’
‘What a lot we’ve had to drink too, my dear Lucius!’
Then they saw Fanina in the shadows, a few paces behind Sejanus, and fell silent.
‘Oh Fortune!’ murmured a tall thin man, his face flushed red with drink. ‘Now I see why, in spite of this most important occasion, you spent such a long time elsewhere, O happy Lucius! ’
‘Mars paying tribute to Venus after victory, what could be more natural?’ drawled a fat man with a pendant lower lip.
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