Sejanus (Marcus Corvinus Book 3)

by David Wishart

  'Even if you knew that he'd killed your son?' I said quietly.

  Tiberius's eyes came up, and I read shock in them. So he hadn't known!

  'It's true,' I said.

  'Drusus died of a long-term illness aggravated by a fever and chronic fluxion of the bowels.' The Wart's face was impassive and his voice level. As a demonstration of self-control it was impressive as hell. 'My son's death was natural.'

  'No, it wasn’t. That’s definite. I've talked to the slave who administered the poison.'

  'Which was?'

  'A substance called stibium.'

  He paused. 'Go on.'

  'Sejanus seduced Drusus's wife Livilla. They poisoned him together, with the help of his doctor Eudemus. It was done gradually, over a period of years.'

  'You can prove this?' His face was a wooden mask, and I could almost feel the effort he was putting in to keeping it that way. 'You had better answer Yes, Corvinus, because all the gods in the pantheon help you if you can't.'

  'I told you, sir. I've talked to the slave. His name is Lygdus and your grandson has him safe in Rome. Yes, I can prove it. No doubt you can question the doctor yourself.' The sweat was dripping from me now. I would've liked to wipe it off with the sleeve of my tunic, but I didn't dare risk it.

  Tiberius lay absolutely still, his ice-grey eyes staring straight through me into nothing. Suddenly there was a sharp crack. I looked down at his hand, wrapped massively around his wine cup. Wine was spilling from the crushed silver and running down onto the couch. I doubt if he noticed. There was a long silence.

  'Sir?' I said at last. 'Sir?'

  The eyes came back into focus.

  'Well, young man,' he said. His voice now was dry and level, perfectly controlled. 'My congratulations. You've convinced me.' He picked up a handbell on the table beside him and rang it. The door opened at once and a guard stepped in and waited at attention. 'Publius. My compliments to Thrasyllus. Ask him to step along if he isn't too busy.' He turned back to me as the soldier saluted and left. 'I've changed my mind. Perhaps I should discuss Gaius with you after all.'

  35.

  I poured us some more wine while we waited. It was excellent stuff, Caecuban, from the same cellar as Livia's, but well watered: Tiberius might've been able to hold his own in the Rhine messes thirty years back, but he obviously had to go carefully now.

  'You like the view?' he said. He might have been a dinner-party host showing his guest the property, instead of the most powerful man in the world interviewing a condemned traitor.

  'Yeah,' I said. I hadn't really been looking after it had first registered. Now I did. The gods must have a view like that, from the top of Olympus. 'It's fantastic.'

  'I had this loggia built specially. We're a thousand feet above the sea, and on a good day I can see almost to Naples. Birds fly level with the windows. I could reach out and touch them.' His lips twisted. 'Even wring their necks. Up here it's easy to think I'll live forever, but of course I won't. In another six years I'll be dead. Or five years, eight months and sixteen days, rather.' I looked at him, but he wasn't joking. The hairs stirred on the back of my neck. 'Don't spread that around, by the way. It's a secret.'

  'Uh, yeah,' I said. 'I mean no, I won't. I promise.'

  He wasn't listening. He was still staring out over the sea. I didn't dare speak.

  'I won't regret giving Capri my death,' he said at last. 'She's done me proud. You know the story of why Augustus bought her?'

  I shook my head.

  'He was visiting the town when a dying oak tree in the market-place budded. The superstitious old beggar took it for an omen and exchanged the island with the Neapolitans for Ischia. They had much the better bargain, but they had the sense to keep their mouths shut.' Tiberius chuckled. 'Well, perhaps I shouldn't mock. Perhaps Augustus was right, superstition or not. He certainly lived far past his time. And in this air even the goats reach a ripe old age. If I'm to beat him –as I will – then I need all the help I can get. Perhaps even the Divine Augustus's.'

  'What about Rome, sir?' Gods! This had to be the wine talking. Watered or not, Caecuban and raw nerves were a dangerous mixture.

  Tiberius fixed me with an eye as cold and bleak as a boiled sturgeon's.

  'What about Rome?' he said. 'I'll never see her again, nor do I have any desire to. Rome's a stinking sewer populated by sewer-rats. Or do you think I owe her any more blood and sweat than she's had from me already these sixty years past?' He paused. Then, when I didn't speak: 'Go on, man! I don't ask rhetorical questions and I expect straight answers. What about Rome?'

  'There've been...uh...rumours.' Oh, Jupiter! 'About the way you spend your time here. Sir.'

  'Oh, yes. The rumours.' The yellow teeth flashed in a snarl. 'That I indulge my depraved tastes with a constant round of perversions. That I live on aphrodisiacs and bugger painted children in the open air.' I said nothing: I hadn't known that he knew. 'Fools can believe what they like. I've never cared about their opinion. And so long as my writ runs and I hold the empire here' – he held out a clenched fist – 'I'll take Capri and slander over Rome and the petty squabbles of her fawning lickspittle senate any day. In the end I'll be judged on my actions and not on wineshop rumours. And if I'm not then the future can go and fuck itself. Clear?'

  'Clear, sir,' I said. I was still sweating.

  'Good.' He raised his wine cup. 'Now. There must be more in that jug still, even though it is mostly water. We'll drink damnation to slanderers, timeservers and hypocrites. Well-intentioned meddlers, too.'

  I poured. There was a knock on the door and an elderly man with a beard came in. He glanced at me, then away.

  'You wanted to see me, lord,' he said. His Greek was quiet and sibilant.

  'Valerius Corvinus.' Tiberius sipped his wine. 'Thrasyllus of Alexandria. The wisest man in the world.'

  'Hardly that, lord.' Thrasyllus smiled and nodded to me.

  'Rubbish. If you aren't then who is? You were right, my friend, and I apologise.'

  'Right about what?' They were still speaking Greek.

  'About Gaius.'

  'Ah.' Thrasyllus sat down in a chair with his back to the Bay of Naples. 'Of course I was. I had to be. But apologies are unnecessary, especially from emperors.'

  'I didn't bring you here just to apologise.' Tiberius motioned towards me with his wine cup. 'Go on. Tell him.'

  Thrasyllus shot him a quick glance, then stroked his beard.

  '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 thou
ght 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.

  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.