‘Fanina? My little Fanina!’ the old man stammered. ‘I don’t want to die yet....’
‘But you’re going to find yourself in hell before the night is out,’ roared Sejanus, his fist clenched tight around the old man’s neck as he drew him towards him.
Hiccuping, glassy-eyed, the pontiff stared at Sejanus’s face.
‘Sejanus!’ he said. ‘Sejanus! So she was the mistress you kept so jealously hidden away in your house? A vestal, Sejanus! You are accursed!’
Livid, the commander of the Praetorians raised his hand. Fanina leapt towards him.
‘No!’ she shrieked.
A dry crunch accompanied her cry and Calvinus fell back on the bed, his neck broken.
Chapter Twenty-three
‘How happy I am, how truly happy to find you again, illustrious Fanina.’
With aching head, Fanina looked at the young woman who, seated at her bedside, was turning upon her her most gracious smile.
Baby-faced, with big, bright eyes, fleshy, well-defined lips, and an admirable coiffure, the young woman was draped in a long immaculate silken stola through the opening of which Fanina glimpsed an elegant tunic richly embroidered in satin-stitch.
‘Does the illustrious Fanina really not recognize me?’ the young woman asked with a slight pout.
‘Locusta!’ Fanina murmured.
‘It is true that I have changed quite a bit since the time they fetched me out of prison to teach you the art of counter-poisons,’ joked the poisoner with a soft throaty laugh that made the three huge glistening diamonds that hung at her neck quiver. ‘Since then, the gods be praised, dear Sejanus has allowed me my freedom...’
She broke off:
‘By the way, illustrious Fanina, have you been taking the pills regularly that you suffered me to give you?’
Fanina nodded and Locusta wriggled with satisfaction.
‘I am happy to hear it, most illustrious Fanina. Now all the poisons in the world are powerless against you.’
Then she broke off again.
‘But, come to think of it, most illustrious Fanina, you must be wondering what I am doing beside your bed?’
Getting up, she took a few steps about the room.
‘It’s quite simple, illustrious Fanina. This morning I came to see our dear Sejanus and I found him in an awful state. It seemed that you had had a terrible shock last night and dear Lucius, so he told me, had had the stupid notion of making you drink a mouthful of wine to make you feel better, without realizing, wretched man, that it would have exactly the opposite effect.’
With half-closed eyes Fanina watched this enigmatic creature, the most redoubtable female criminal of her day, ‘Death Incarnate’, as she was known, who had pledged to Fanina unshakable affection, a veritable adoration, because as she had one day confided in her: ‘You are the woman I would have liked to have been ... You are more beautiful than anyone could imagine ... no one can see you without loving you...’
Interspersed with trivialities, her conversation brought back the horrors of the previous night: Calvinus’s savage death, the burning sensation of the over-strong wine Gryllus had administered to her, swearing like a trooper, then the mad dash home in Sejanus’s arms where he had laid her on the bed, cursing himself for having made her submit to the sight of Calvinus’s execution, a sight that should have delighted her.
Voluble and sprightly, but nevertheless watching Fanina’s reactions out of the corner of her eye, Locusta went on:
‘You must certainly know, most illustrious Fanina, what grave events are afoot. Dear Sejanus has so much to do today, and that is why he has asked me to look after you.’
She cooed:
‘Without realizing, the poor man, that we have known one another for ages and that I had the honour of teaching you certain formulae that render harmless all the dread science of people like myself.’
Her mouth still thick, Fanina asked:
‘Why did he not ask my servants to look after me?’
‘That’s exactly what I asked Sejanus ... and he replied that your servants were far too busy satisfying the desires of his guests to...’
In one leap, Fanina was on her feet.
‘What do you mean?’
‘That your servants present a picture I would as soon you knew nothing about, illustrious Fanina.’
But Fanina was already rushing headlong down the stairs towards the bacchanalia, the noise of which she could hear growing ever louder until, as she crossed the threshold of the banqueting hall it burst on her in a deafening roar.
‘Marrha! ... Khera! ... Hyra! ...’
The sight that met her eyes was more loathsome, more obscene and more revolting than anything she could ever have imagined. The huge hall was literally laid waste. The precious citrus-wood tables had been tipped over, along with one of the gigantic beds, and the floor was littered with filth, drinking-cups smashed to smithereens, dented dishes, pools of wine in which men lay, dead drunk, still clasping Fanina’s lovely servants naked and inert, just as they had given themselves to their partners.
‘Marrha! ... Khera! ... Hyra! ...’ Fanina repeated with a sob.
Perched on one of the beds, their loin-cloths tom off, the three slave-girls were throwing themselves about wildly amongst a group of entirely naked guests, whom they confronted with gestures and words to satisfy the desires that consumed them.
‘Marrha!’ Fanina shouted again.
Wild with passion, a mad glint in her eye, her brown hair dishevelled, the Egyptian girl, the loveliest, the sweetest and the best-behaved of her servants turned towards her.
‘Ah, here you are at last, Mistress!’ she giggled. ‘Come and enjoy yourself with us. Come and quench the fire that must be burning in your loins as it is in ours. Or go and get us some men, all the men you can lay your hands on! We need them all! ...’
‘I did warn you, illustrious Fanina,’ Locusta said to Fanina as she caught her up.
Fanina felt like rushing towards the unfortunate girls and tearing them from the men who were fighting for possession of them, shrieking the while. But Locusta seized her by the arm and with incredible strength dragged her off towards the door.
‘A crazy idea, illustrious Fanina,’ the poisoner said coldly. ‘Those girls adore you when they have their wits about them, but they would tear you limb from limb if you tried to prevent them from satisfying their burning desire. No one can do anything for them, not even me....’
Clutching the door-frame, trembling in every limb, Fanina looked at her.
‘There’s no mystery about it,’ Locusta went on. ‘They were given an aphrodisiac draught to drink so that they would be more willing to give themselves to these men.’
‘Who did?’ Fanina cried, beside herself.
‘Dear Sejanus did, illustrious Fanina.’
Fanina staggered.
‘Sejanus! ... Did you say that Sejanus did this?’
Locusta did not flinch.
‘May the gods reduce me to dust if I lie, most revered Fanina. Sejanus himself asked me this morning to provide one of my ... specialities...’
A shrill screech interrupted what she was saying, as little Khera, frantic with rage, dived after an old, obese man who, after clasping her in a brief embrace, had been seized with panic and was making his getaway, terrified. Pushing Fanina into the vestibule, Locusta went on:
‘Knowing that you would not like it, I refused to do so. It was that witch Canidia who brought them the potion.’
‘But why? Why?’ Fanina stammered in horror.
‘Because Sejanus wanted to keep his guests here until tonight. . . by whatever means.’
In icy tones, the poisoner concluded:
‘Seven or eight of the girls will undoubtedly die, but his scheme will have worked.’
Wild-eyed, Fanina tried to tear herself away from the dreadful woman’s grip.
‘We must save them! We must save them!’
But Locusta stopped her by digging her powerful finge
rs into Fanina’s arm.
‘It’s out of the question, illustrious Fanina. Aesculapius himself would be powerless to help them.’
They stood there facing one another.
‘I swear on my life, illustrious Fanina, that by interfering in any way we would be causing them unnecessary suffering.’
Then, drawing Fanina still farther off, she added:
‘If I understand rightly, Sejanus did this for you, in an attempt to rally a few senators about him whom he believes share your republican ideals.’
Crushed, Fanina murmured:
‘He must be out of his mind ... on my account! Was it on my account that he has murdered all these poor girls!’
‘He’s murdered plenty of others to reach the position he now holds, illustrious Fanina.’
Fanina gripped Locusta to prevent herself collapsing. The poisoner went on coldly:
‘Dear Lucius has always been one of my best customers. Didn’t I tell you that I owe my freedom to him? But what do you imagine I gave him in return? The road to power is often paved with corpses.’
Fanina could still hear the obscene shouts coming from her servant-girls, and she collapsed on to a bench and clasped her head in her hands.
She knew that Sejanus was tough and implacable, for his past was undoubtedly full of unmentionable actions. She had been facing the future, and had wiped from her mind everything connected with the past; but now she was discovering it all and found it even more dreadful than anything she had imagined. This Sejanus, the ambitious conqueror who fascinated her by his immense reserves of energy was also a poisoner, a criminal of the most dastardly variety. The wolf she had tamed had not for all that changed into a lamb. . . . He had killed again, and would kill yet again tomorrow, whatever his objectives might be.
The glorious Republic Fanina had dreamed of restoring was already stained with innocent blood.
‘I want to get away ... far, far away,’ she murmured.
‘That’s not impossible,’ Locusta replied quietly. ‘I even know someone who would be exceedingly happy to accompany you.’
Fanina stared blankly at her.
‘Hemonia,’ said Locusta.
Fanina jumped to her feet. The poisoner repeated, impassively:
‘Hemonia.’
‘Take care, if you are making fun of me!’ Fanina threatened. ‘My Hemonia is dead; she was burnt to death, poor creature, in Brazen-beard’s garden....’
Locusta smiled.
‘Your nurse escaped from the fire.’
‘She couldn’t have.’
‘She did.’
The shouting rose to a crescendo in the banqueting-hall. One man was screaming with pain, another with pleasure.
Oh to get away from this hell! Oh to hasten to the woman who had been her good genius throughout her youth, the woman who to her was the very personification of love, the woman who had suffered so much on her account, whom she could never repay for all she had done for her.
Fanina seized Locusta round the waist.
‘Take me to Hemonia, quick, Locusta, I beg you. Quick, quick.’
Still smiling, the poisoner gave a soft whistle ami two gigantic Peloponesian mastiffs, close muzzled and wearing broad collars surrounded by rows of blued steel spikes, slunk silently out of a neighbouring room. Locusta removed their muzzles in one deft movement, then, taking Fanina by the hand, said:
‘I’ll take you to her, and so much the worse for anyone who tries to prevent us leaving the house....’
They set off, escorted by the two dogs with their long pendulous lips, across the deserted garden.
‘Sejanus will be after your skin,’ Fanina remarked.
‘Oh, who cares!’ Locusta replied with a casual shrug. ‘Who knows what tomorrow may bring?’
A closed bearer-chaise awaited them in the little street Fanina had walked down the previous night. They got in and Locusta’s Getulian slaves set off immediately. They quickly descended the hill as far as the Via Triumphalis which they crossed, before plunging into a narrow passageway between two high walls.
Fanina gave a shudder. This was the way she had come the previous day to see Calvinus. She looked at Locusta. . . . How could she trust this woman whose agreeable appearance hid the vilest of hearts? How could she ever have believed in Hemonia’s resurrection? Her unfortunate nurse was dead, truly dead. In flying from Sejanus the thought of whom filled her with shame and disgust, was she not running headlong into some trap? What matter! For what could be more horrible than that place where all was ignominy, where her last illusions had been shattered?
Then suddenly another sound was added to the soft tread of the barefooted porters, the ringing sound of hobnailed shoes.
It was the uneven tread of a lame man! Fanina’s heart quickened its beat; she did not have to turn round. She knew....
As if by magic, after many months of absence, Horo the dwarf with the russet leather cape had come back.
A strange friend, who was also servant to Tiberius, whom she hated. Once again he was there to protect her.
Something terrible was about to happen
Chapter Twenty-Four
By now the city was wrapped in darkness.
At the corner of Victory Rise the bearers of Locusta’s chaise began to hurry faster. All along that crowded thoroughfare there were even more people than usual, but they got quickly out of the way of the two unmuzzled mastiffs, which, nose to the ground and ears flattened, ran in front of the bearers. Then, turning off sharply to the left, they set off down a deserted private road.
Locusta took Fanina’s hand in hers.
‘Listen carefully, illustrious Fanina,’ she said in a whisper. ‘Very shortly we shall pass beneath a long dark archway. On our right in the middle of the archway there is a little door. When I give you the word, you must jump down from the chaise, run as quickly as you can to that door and go in.’
‘Why all this secrecy?’ Fanina asked, edgily. ‘Can’t you explain ...’
‘It’s too late to explain,’ cut in Locusta abruptly.
In the darkness of the closed chaise the poisoner’s face was visible only as a bright patch, inscrutable, expressionless. Fanina listened, leaning forward with her head sunk between her shoulders.
She could no longer hear the footsteps of the dwarf with the russet leather cloak. Where was Horo now as she was about to rush into the unknown?
‘And Hemonia? Where shall I find her?’ she whispered suddenly.
‘I’ve no idea; I am only doing what I have been told to do,’ Locusta said sharply once again.
Suddenly it grew darker; the chaise was going under the archway Locusta had mentioned.
‘Who? Who told you? ...’ Fanina began.
There was a soft whistle.
‘Go on now, jump!’ Locusta ordered curtly.
Swiftly drawing aside the leather curtain that closed the light chaise, Locusta gave Fanina an unceremonious push, to which she offered no resistance, divided as she was between her fear of falling into a trap and the hope of finding Hemonia again.
The chaise went off at a jog-trot to the light patter of feet. Fanina jumped. Luminous eyes were watching her in the dark. The two enormous mastiffs had remained behind. Were they meant to protect her, or to watch her? Fanina backed away from them and lurched into a studded door that opened with a dull creak.
The two dogs were still looking at her, dim shadows in the dark passageway. Fanina’s heart gave a jump.
‘Come in,’ a woman’s voice said in her ear.
A hand drew her back, then the door closed again in the dark and the bolts slid quietly into place.
‘Mind the steps!’
Fanina counted six steps cut into the ground, then another door opened. She found herself in a tiny poorly furnished room lit by one wax torch.
‘Fanina!’
She wheeled round. That voice! That face!
‘Cornelia!’
This tall, pure, handsome girl, full of robust good health, th
is girl in the ill-fitting homespun tunic, her brown hair parted in casual bandeaux, who now clasped Fanina tightly to her was indeed the vestal Cornelia whose life she had so long shared.
‘Cornelia!’ Fanina repeated in a broken voice, on the verge of tears. But the priestess had already pushed her away.
‘Later, later, dear!’ she exclaimed, hastily covering up Fanina’s gold-embroidered scarlet dress with a huge grey cloak.
‘Cornelia!’
‘Come on!’
Cornelia was dragging her off. Stumbling across empty courtyards, running down alleyways, across the forecourts of temples, clasped close to her companion whose strong arm gripped her tightly round the waist, Fanina went on and on without asking herself where she was heading.
She was going to see Hemonia again! She was going to see Vibidia! And there would be others too, her friends, her sisters, Annia, Maximilia, and little Pupilia. Of that she could be certain, since Cornelia was there just as she had been in the days when she had walked with her up and down the courtyard in front of Vesta’s sanctuary and got her to repeat her lessons.
Now they were racing down the big flight of steps that linked the top of Mount Palatine with the Via Nova. Suddenly Cornelia stopped. From down below came the clatter of a troop of horse at the gallop, then the street was suddenly lit by torches and they caught the glint of golden helmets.
‘The Praetorians!’ Fanina whispered.
A non-commissioned officer in charge of the men called out:
‘Divide up into small groups! Search all the streets in the area! We’ll meet again in front of the Curia Julia!’
That was Gryllus’s voice! Fanina edged still closer to Cornelia. Sejanus had discovered that she had disappeared and had sent his guards in pursuit.
The noise grew louder. The horsemen had run into a dense crowd in front of the Regia. The horses reared and one of them fell. Insults rained down on the Praetorians who were surrounded on all sides by the crowd.
‘You may not have heard, but Calvinus died last night,’ said Cornelia in a loud whisper. ‘Let’s seize our opportunity while the soldiers are caught up in the throng waiting to file past his body!’
In a few swift leaps, the two women were down the remaining steps. Fanina had just time to glimpse a little man wearing a flared cloak as he stepped swiftly aside to make way for them: Horo had preceded her here to watch over her return to the House of Vestals.
Fanina, Child of Rome Page 26