‘Good news for you,’ he said. ‘I think the Emperor has a considerable surprise in store for you.’
Then slowly turning his mount, he added:
‘I think you can guess what I mean....’
Although he had spoken quite flatly up to that point, his voice now took on a strange, playful inflexion, one which, or so it seemed to Fanina, held a note of sinister mockery.
‘May I dare to hope you will spare a thought for me when you know where you stand, illustrious Sejanus.’
The commander of the Praetorians did not smile, but simply replied:
‘You can count on that, Macro.’
Then with a sigh:
‘Come now, come.’
Preceded by the tribune, still as apathetic as before and slumped on his horse, Sejanus and his two bodyguards crossed the forecourt of the temple. Then the crowd, hitherto silent, let out a great roar of acclaim. The clients of the senators rushed forward towards the commander of the Praetorians, proclaiming frenzied eulogies, wishing him long life and everlasting happiness.
The slight figure of the man who, up till then had known nothing but success, who was perhaps on his way to receive the highest honours that everyone was ready to bestow on him at the first sign that this was the will of ‘the little king of Capri’, disappeared into the crowd.
He too loved Fanina, but her eyes no longer sought him out. The same questions, always the same questions held Fanina in a state of torment and gave her no peace: where was Caius? What was he planning? Was he aware of the dangers he was about to run?
The Praetorians were everywhere, flourishing their short swords with their flashing steel blades, and their hoarse shouts of joy mingled with the cheering of the crowd.
But to Fanina’s ears, every shout that rose up into the clear sky of this fresh October morning was a death warrant for the man who had never been so dear to her as now.
Surging towards the temple steps, the crowd accompanied Sejanus towards the vestibule of the temple, where, packed tight to do him homage, the senators cheered frantically the man who in their eyes was already the master of the universe. As if by magic, the atmosphere had suddenly lost its tenseness, and the feeling of constraint that had hung over everyone had evaporated. Now, rushing from all sides on to the forecourt, men and women ran to join the rejoicing crowd.
Grasping Hemonia by the arm, Fanina said:
‘That’s where we must go!’
Her nurse hesitated.
‘What if someone recognizes you!’
‘If anything happens, it will be there!’ Fanina said firmly, rearranging the hood of her cloak. ‘Come on!’
Some matrons went by, almost at a run. Fanina and Hemonia left the shelter of their niche and mingled with the women. They soon found themselves in the crowd that pressed forward towards the temple colonnade, beseeching Sejanus for the favour of a few words. Then, dragging her nurse by the hand, Fanina moved off towards the left hand facade of the sanctuary.
‘Where are you taking me?’ Hemonia asked.
‘I don’t exactly know,’ Fanina replied. ‘I want to get as close as possible to where he must be. If we allow ourselves to be caught in the midst of all these people, we shall never be able to do anything for him.’
They had just succeeded in getting clear of the crowd when Hemonia, seizing Fanina roughly by the arm, forced her to turn about.
‘Don’t move! ’ she whispered imperatively.
Fanina tried to disengage herself.
‘Some of the Praetorians over there are watching us....’ Hemonia whispered.
A voice called out:
‘I say, sweetie, where are you off to?’
Then he added:
‘Come along over here and let’s have a look at you!’
Frozen, Fanina heard the voice grow nearer, almost drowning the clamour of the crowd which, by a stroke of good fortune, suddenly flowed back towards the two women and swallowed them up. Fighting their way through the human eddy from which rose a thousand acclamations, Fanina and Hemonia found themselves standing under the very walls of the temple.
‘The door, my dear!’ whispered Hemonia.
Not far from where they stood, a small door of gilded bronze shone at the back of a deep recess. It stood slightly ajar. The two women, frantically elbowing their way through the crowd, managed to force a way through.
Fanina could still hear the Praetorian’s voice, when suddenly she lost her footing and found herself at the bottom of a short flight of steps she had not noticed. Pulling Hemonia towards her, she leant against the heavy metal door which opened. They dived into the gallery that opened out before them. Then the door slammed shut and they were plunged into darkness.
‘There’s a staircase,’ whispered Hemonia.
Hand in hand, step by step, they felt their way up a very narrow flight of stairs. They halted when they reached the landing, and Fanina felt her way round the walls. Her foot struck a metal object that gave out a light ring. She bent down, stifling a cry....
There was a soldier lying there, and that sticky liquid on her fingers was blood.
‘What is it?’ her nurse asked almost inaudibly.
‘Be quiet!’
With her legs ready to give way under her, teeth clenched, Fanina forced herself to examine the corpse whose contact horrified her. She must know. Her hand followed the line of a hairy leg, still warm, and short leather trousers, then ran over the metal strips that made up his breast-plate, coming to rest on the uneven surface of the heavy pommel of a sword.
It was a Praetorian! In defiance of the law, Sejanus had posted one of his armed guards inside the building in which the Senate was to assemble.
‘What is it?’ Hemonia repeated.
‘Ssh!’
Every nerve on edge, as if danger lurked near, Fanina asked herself:
‘Who killed this Praetorian?’
Fanina’s eyes were beginning to grow accustomed to the darkness and she could now make out a vague patch of light in front of her. On tiptoe, she stepped forward and came up against a thick leather curtain which she drew aside, then, almost fainting, immediately left fall again.
A few paces from the curtain, perched on his solar chariot drawn by seven dazzling stallions of White Carrara marble, the gigantic statue of Apollo Master of All Light darted forth its golden shafts. In the shadow of the gigantic blue porphyry pedestal that supported this monumental group, a man was lurking. One glance had been all that Fanina had needed to identify him.
It was Vindex.
His hand resting on his swordbelt, impassive, the young tribune stood watching the six hundred senators who, with nauseating servility, were escorting Sejanus into the temple.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Groping her way through the dark, Hemonia managed to reach Fanina.
‘There’s a dead soldier at your feet,’ she whispered, putting her arms about Fanina.
Hemonia was not trembling. Fanina felt that she was cold, lucid and ready for anything. She said:
‘I know.... It must have been Caius who killed him....’ Quivering with agitation she went on:
‘He’s there, behind the statue of the god. I saw him....’
Shouts of acclaim rose from the temple and applause broke out on all sides.
‘What are you going to do now?’ Hemonia asked.
Her chest constricted and her heart pounding, Fanina considered the situation. No, they could not remain where they were without running the risk of spoiling Vindex’s plan. Perhaps they should never have closed the gilded bronze door behind them. They must remain at a distance, ready to intervene only if things seemed to be going badly for Vindex.
Steering her nurse back towards the landing, Fanina felt her foot strike the bottom stair of the flight leading to the upper floors.
‘Come on,’ she whispered.
They crept softly up some thirty steps of a spiral staircase and came out on to a dark gallery that ran right round the temple, on a level wit
h the shoulders of the statue of the god; its beautiful face shimmered in the bluish-green light that filtered through the windows above the gigantic doors of the huge building.
The senators crowded the floor at their feet, in a weird half-light, through which the lamps hanging from the massive gilded candelabra cast great patches of yellow radiance. Pushing their way past the benches that had been placed there for them, still acclaiming Sejanus who had seated himself in the midst of a group of his declared supporters, the Conscript Fathers unashamedly jostled for places as near as possible to the great man, intent on declaring their support for him before his victory was officially proclaimed.
Sick at heart at the sight of such shameless sycophancy, Fanina cautiously leaned forward. Vindex was still there. Did he now realize how foolhardy his whole scheme was? Did he realize that he still had time to make his escape?
Fanina could not make out his features, but his posture suggested that he was perfectly relaxed in spite of the fact that he was about to put his very life in the balance. It was the relaxation of the wrestler slackening his muscles before the great effort. How could he be so calm? How could he dare to stand so casually with one hand on his hip, his head on one side, leaning against the pedestal of the god’s statue? How dared he assume a posture of such supreme, such marvellous nonchalance, as he waited for the hour to strike that an implacable Destiny had fixed for him.
If only she had been able to run to his side, to draw him from this temple surrounded by Praetorians, devoted heart and soul to their leader, out of this snare that could not fail to close over his head.
If only she had still been as he had known her, pure and worthy of him in every way.... Then, she would not have had a moment’s hesitation.
But there was Sejanus, her former lover, the very man Vindex was preparing to fight, the man she found she could not hate, no matter what his terrible past held, for he truly loved her. He was suffering on her account. He was still prepared to sacrifice everything to ensure her happiness.
Sejanus and Vindex? The military commander at the height of his power, on the point of achieving the ambitions that had been the cause of his crimes, and the young officer lurking in the shadow of the statue. Two men whose caresses she had known, between whom she could not have a moment’s hesitation. It was the young officer who must win....
Silence had fallen over the assembly.
After making a libation of wine and burning a few pinches of incense before the statue of the god, Memmius Regulus the Consul took his place on the little rostrum facing the senators.
Preceded by two ushers, Macro entered carrying a large parchment scroll, which he handed to the Consul after greeting him. In the shadows, Vindex remained motionless. His comrade, Macro, ambled off in his nonchalant way and went out, leaving Vindex alone once more in this enclosure, surrounded by Praetorians, where not one single member of the assembly had failed to turn openly towards Sejanus and give him a broad smile of complicity.
Fanina looked down on the sea of faces with a heavy heart. Where were those who had been her father’s friends? She managed to pick out some of them and saw that, like the others, they were smiling at Sejanus. They had families and property which they were unwilling to risk, since it was common knowledge that the Emperor, to whom they had always been devoted, was about to crown his favourite whom they had for so long opposed.
Fanina stiffened with hatred and disgust. Someone with blazing red hair was standing not far from Sejanus; it was Brazen-beard. He was there too, that unspeakable red-head. The commander of the Praetorians had always reckoned him among Tiberius’s friends, for the Emperor had heaped riches and honours upon him. But when so many honest senators were siding with the winner, was it to be expected that someone like Brazen-beard would not follow their example and even outdo them in their sycophancy and spinelessness?
There was a burst of applause as the Consul began to read out the very long letter from the Emperor, which opened with a list of powers he had conferred upon Sejanus. The senators stood and clapped frenziedly each time his name was mentioned.
Down below, Vindex settled down more comfortably. As the expressions of good-will and affection for his enemy grew warmer and warmer they seemed to slide over him without in any way affecting his incredible calm. As the reading continued, Fanina, who was wild with anxiety, even saw him put his hand to his mouth as if stifling a yawn.
A sentence from the letter caught Fanina’s attention:
‘Sejanus, on whose shoulders I have, over the years, heaped honours and office, has made liberal use of his powers....’
‘An excellent preparation for the still higher office that awaits him!’ shouted Brazen-beard, unleashing a thunderous roar of applause. ...
Suddenly Hemonia drew Fanina back.
‘Someone’s coming!’ she whispered.
Her heart gripped by unutterable dread, Fanina drew back against the wall at the top of the stairs beside her nurse. Two ushers appeared in the gallery, walking slowly and letting their fingers run along the balustrade and over the silver high-relief work set into the wall.
They drew closer, and Hemonia drew Fanina still farther back into the shadows of the stairway. Fanina tore herself free. What were the two men going to do? If they leaned over the balustrade they would see Vindex, and if they went down the stairs they would discover the body of the Praetorian ...
Just a few paces from the two women, the ushers came to a halt while from down below shouts of joy drowned the Consul’s voice.
‘By Pollux!’ said one of the men. ‘Yesterday rumour had it that Sejanus was to be disinherited by Tiberius; you couldn’t have found a score of senators willing to greet him ... and now listen to them.’
‘No doubt about it,’ rejoined the other man cynically, ‘we’ve had more than our fair share lately of these sudden switches from favour to disfavour and back again. One day you hear that Tiberius is giving Sejanus tribunician powers, then the next day everyone says he’s going to give him the boot.’
‘And it’s all the more daft since, in any case, Sejanus only has to raise his little finger to put pay to the poor old man of Capri, who should consider himself lucky if he still has a few acres of rock to sunbathe on.’
The two women clasped one another, their nerves stretched almost to breaking-point. The ushers moved away, and Fanina, returning to the bottom of the staircase, glanced along the gallery. Still talking, the two men.went on their rounds without giving a thought to what was going on below, and without a glance towards Vindex who must still have been stationed behind the pedestal of Apollo’s chariot. A little farher on, without looking back, they went through a little doorway and disappeared.
Hemonia had joined Fanina, who stood leaning over the balustrade. Caius was still there but no longer in the same position. He had stiffened and Fanina sensed that he was on the watch now, waiting for some mysterious signal.
It was then that Fanina realized that the atmosphere of the hall had changed. The clapping had stopped. Suddenly, glued to their seats, bewildered, anxious, distressed, the senators seemed no longer to dare look at one another.
The Consul’s nasal voice went on, rising above the oppressive silence.
Hardly believing her ears, Fanina now heard him, stumbling over every word as if horrified at what he was about to utter, read out a veritable indictment of Sejanus.
Fanina glanced at him. At that distance Sejanus’s face was nothing more than a dark shape in the half-light of the temple. But she knew him too well not to realize that he was stunned. He could see all the senators around him beginning to take fright, to grow agitated, and to give one another sidelong questioning glances. The very day before he would have leapt to his defence against the virulent indictment the Emperor had drawn up against him, after beguiling him with sweet, deceptive words. He had been caught unawares. Something had broken within him and Fanina suddenly realized that in abandoning him, in stripping him of all the hopes he had placed in her, in shattering the
one and only dream of pure love he had ever entertained, she had undone this formidable fighter.
It was too late. He no longer reacted. Those nearest to him were already abandoning him. Full of scorn and disgust, Fanina felt ashamed for Rome as she watched all those senators, whose names were inscribed in golden letters in the annals of the city, basely imitating the unspeakable Brazen-beard who had been the first to desert Sejanus, under the pretext of having some urgent business to discuss with a praetor at the other end of the room.
The last sentence of the letter fell in a deathly hush:
‘The record of all the unspeakable crimes that I accuse Lucius Aelius Sejanus of committing has been deposited in the House of Vestals under the holy protection of the Supreme Vestal who will convey it as soon as possible to the Senate so that justice may at last be done.’
Fanina clenched her fists till her nails dug into her palms. A footfall rang out crisply over the temple flagstones. Stepping out of the shadows, Vindex advanced towards the middle of the assembly to the accompaniment of a subdued murmur of surprise.
Coming to a halt a few paces from the commander of the Praetorians, who stood alone in the bay his neighbours had deserted, upright, calm, without raising his voice, the young officer spoke:
‘Sejanus, I have come here in the name of Tiberius-Caesar-Augustus, Prince of the Senate and Supreme Commander of the Armies, to see to it that the most illustrious Conscript Fathers give judgement upon you according to the forms laid down by our sacred laws.’
Then turning to the Consul who stood nervously crumpling the enormous parchment roll he no longer knew what to do with, he added:
‘Illustrious Memmius Regulus, it is now your turn to act.’
Frantic with anxiety, Fanina had straightened up. Caius’s daring had surpassed anything she had imagined. At any moment now the Praetorians would burst into the temple to set their chief free. As soon as the first Praetorian forced his way into the sanctuary, all these faint-hearted men, so ready to change course at the slightest breeze, would abandon Caius and he would be alone. Did he not see that as soon as the first shock had worn off, Sejanus would get a grip on himself? Once again, he would resume control of all the senators who were terror-struck at the idea of being surrounded by the followers of this all powerful man, whom this young officer claimed they should put on trial.
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