Sejanus (Marcus Corvinus Book 3)

by David Wishart

  '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.

  The consuls' chairs were still empty and there was no sign of Sejanus yet, but evidently news of the letter had spread because the House was stacked and buzzing. Well, mostly buzzing: I found a space on the topmost tier next to a couple of snoring broad-stripers who looked like they'd been there since before Actium. Perfect. A good view, and safe company: I'd bet the consuls could do a strip-tease up and down the gangways blowing army bugles and these two still wouldn't notice. Jupiter knows how they voted them. With pulleys, maybe.

  I'd just got comfortable when there was a stir down below and the consuls Regulus and Trio came in, with Sejanus behind them. Macro had done his job well, and the guy looked solidly confident, grinning and shaking hands all round. While Regulus took the auspices and opened the meeting he sat in the centre of the front bench with a smile on his face that would've cracked marble.

  Macro came forward with the Wart's letter, saluted sharply and went to deliver his own personal squib to the guard outside. Regulus broke the seal and began to read the contents aloud. Somewhere someone coughed, but it was the only sound in the place. Even my two bench-mates had stopped snoring. Instinct, maybe.

  Ten minutes and two pages of undirected waffle later, there was still complete silence: understandable, because when a letter from the emperor is being read out even a cough in the wrong place can be misinterpreted, and broad-stripers learn early to yawn with their mouths closed. I had to hand it to Tiberius. He knew his audience, and he'd managed this brilliantly; the Praetorians would be half-way back to camp by now and their place taken by the troops from the Urban Cohort, while Sejanus still grinned on his bench like a happy tomcat. Even as the first jarring notes crept in no one looked especially concerned; it was only when they began to pile up one on another and squeeze out the waffle that the shuffling and throat-clearing started. Sejanus's smile began to slip, and it went on slipping.

  He was grey as death when, a full half hour into the session, Tiberius finally put the knife in.

  '"I am informed, conscript fathers,"' Regulus read in his bland lawyer's voice, '"that without my knowledge acts have been performed in my name contrary to the laws and the well-being of the state. Innocent men have been falsely brought to trial and condemned, plots against my kindred fomented, and power devolved by me in all good faith grossly and callously abused. It is therefore my will and command that the instigator of these acts, my erstwhile representative Lucius Aelius Sejanus, be placed at once under restraint and confined to the Mamertine prison until his crimes can be properly investigated and punished."'

  Regulus lowered the letter and turned to Sejanus. The coughing and shuffling had stopped, and the silence was absolute.

  'Lucius Aelius Sejanus,' he said. 'You heard the emperor's instructions.'

  Sejanus didn't move, except to run his tongue over his lips. His face was a mask. The main doors opened and Laco, the Urban Cohort commander, came in with four of his men. He stood silently by the door jamb, his hand on his sword-hilt and his eyes on the consul, waiting for further orders.

  'Aelius Sejanus,' Regulus said again. 'You will come here, p
lease.'

  Sejanus was shaking his head slowly from side to side as if to clear it. The senators next to him were edging away.

  'Sejanus.' Regulus raised his voice; not that it was necessary, you could've heard a pin drop. 'Did you hear what I said?'

  The guy was on his own now, the bench he was sitting on empty for two clear yards either way.

  'Me?' he whispered, and I could hear the incredulity in his voice even across twenty tiers. 'No, not me. It's a mistake, some mistake. You don't want me.'

  Regulus made a sign, and Laco stepped forward.

  'Take him,' the consul said.

  The silence broke. As the soldiers gripped Sejanus's arms and pulled him to his feet the House erupted. Below me an elderly senator suddenly screamed: 'Give him the Hook! Give him the Hook!' Spittle flew from his mouth and hit the bald head of the man in front. Sejanus lifted his eyes, but he was beyond seeing, and if the two guards hadn't been holding him up I'd swear he would've fallen. Beside me, one of the oldsters stirred in his sleep and shouted: 'I agree!' Jupiter knew what he thought he was voting for, but it didn't matter anyway, and I'd had enough. The show was over, and Rome's august senate could manage things by themselves now. I left before I threw up on the hallowed benches.

  Later in the day the senate reconvened and sentenced him formally to death. Against the Wart's own instructions, and his rule that stipulated a three-day interval between sentence and execution, Sejanus was strangled by the public executioner before sunset and his body dragged down the Gemonian Stairs with a hook in its gullet. I wasn't there, then or later when the celebrations started in earnest. I reckoned I'd played my part already.

  38.

  I was lucky: the house in Poplicolan Street had been sequestrated when I'd been charged with treason, but it hadn't been sold or even had the contents auctioned, and with the Wart's formal pardon tucked into my mantle-fold I could move in straight away. Bathyllus and Meton, too. Maybe it would've been easier to have stayed in the Suburan flat for a few days, but I couldn't do that to the poor guy. He'd suffered enough, and he was pining for his set of matching skillets.

  I spent the time catching up. Lippillus was back at work, and now his hair had grown to cover the scars he was ugly as ever. We split a jar of my best Falernian while I filled him in on what he'd missed, and I even got a smile from Marcina. Agron's wife had had a baby girl while I was on Capri, and the big guy was over the moon. When Perilla got back on the twenty-third we went down to Ostia together and the kid was sick all over her best mantle. She didn't seem to mind. Yeah, well. At least Agron had the sense this time to keep his mouth shut. His wife had probably had a word with him before we arrived.

  Otherwise I didn't go out much. They were pulling down Sejanus's statues and hacking his name off monuments all over Rome, and that I didn't want to see if I could avoid it. The bastard was dead and burned; killing him again in effigy just seemed pointless and spiteful. I thought a lot about Livia, too. Sure, she'd've been pleased we'd won in the end, but I wondered if she'd known about Gaius. Probably, almost certainly; but then the old girl was no Tiberius, she was more of an Agrippina. Livia was a cold bitch, but she also had the capacity for personal hate, whether she recognised it in herself or not. And what better way to destroy the reputation of the Julians forever than to make their last representative emperor and have him do it for her?

  I didn't want to think about Gaius. I didn't want to think about him at all, or about what the future held. I certainly didn't want to see him again. Maybe Thrasyllus was wrong, but the cold finger at the base of my skull told me otherwise. Six years from now Rome wasn't going to be a pleasant place to live.

  We were just finishing lunch, Perilla and I, when Bathyllus came into the dining room to say we had a visitor.

  It was Lamia. I was surprised he was still alive, let alone mobile. The guy was a walking skeleton, and his hand when I shook it felt like a thin gloveful of bones. He had the look of his namesake, the witch who sucks children's blood in the stories.

  'My congratulations, Corvinus,' he whispered: his voice was almost gone, now, too. 'Arruntius's also, although he's out of Rome at present. I'm sorry, I should have come before. Perilla, my dear. Delighted to see you again.'

  I had Bathyllus manoeuvre him onto a couch and help him lie. Beside the dining table he looked like a full-sized version of these silver reminders of death that cheerier guests sometimes dangle at parties.

  'Some wine for the governor, Bathyllus,' I said.

  'No. No wine. The doctor forbids it. And soon no longer governor, either, even in absentia.' Lamia bared his teeth in a rictus grin. 'The emperor is doing me the honour of appointing me City Prefect. Although I doubt if I'll live to take up office.'

  I didn't say anything, nor did Perilla. Even polite noises would've been out of place.

  'Well. To the purpose of my visit.' Lamia coughed: the sound was hollow. 'Besides conveying the congratulations and thanks of my colleagues, naturally. I came to tell you the news, if you haven't heard it already.'

  'What news?'

  'Livilla is dead. Suicide.' He made a vague gesture with his hand. 'At least the official version is suicide. She poisoned herself, I understand, leaving a note for the emperor. An apology and – so it is said – a confession of some kind?' The question was in his voice and his eyes.

  There was no reason not to tell him. He'd know soon enough, anyway.

  'She and Sejanus murdered Tiberius's son,' I said.

  'Ah.' He nodded. 'Yes, that would explain things.' He didn't sound too surprised, but then maybe nothing did surprise a man who was dying slowly himself. 'How was it done?'

  I gave him the details, as far as I knew them. No doubt the Wart had already got Drusus's doctor Eudemus. And Lygdus; but I tried not to think about that.

  'Then we've made a clean sweep.' He grinned again. 'Cleared the nest out. And the credit, my boy, is entirely yours.'

  I shifted on my couch. 'A clean sweep?'

  'You didn't know that either? About Sejanus's children?'

  I felt Perilla stiffen. Oh, Jupiter! Jupiter, no! 'What about the children?' I said. There were three of them, two boys and a girl.

  'They were executed,' Lamia said. 'Two days ago, by order of the senate. The mother committed suicide.' He paused. 'A genuine suicide. We had no quarrel with her, and she and Sejanus had been divorced for years, of course; but she seemed to find it necessary.'

  My brain had gone numb. I said, and heard my voice saying from very far away: 'The daughter couldn't've been more than twelve. A virgin. The law doesn't allow the execution of a virgin who's also a minor. Your bloody senate knows that.'

  Lamia had the grace to drop his eyes. 'The law was not broken, Valerius Corvinus. The executioner...remedied matters before he strangled her.'

  Perilla gasped. I looked at her. Her whitened knuckles were pressed hard against her teeth, and I could see blood between them.

  Gods. Oh sweet, suffering gods. The bile rushed into my throat, and I forced it down.

  'Get out,' I said softly. 'Get your stinking, fucking broad-striper carcass out of my house. Or I swear to you, Lamia, I'll kill you where you lie.'

  He was staring at me, the eyes bright in his skull-like face. 'But we had to do it, my boy,' he said. 'We couldn't let them live. Not Sejanus's children.'

  Bathyllus was standing frozen with the wine jug in his hand. I didn't dare speak, I only pointed. Bathyllus helped the old man off his couch and led him to the door. There, Lamia turned.

  'It had to be done,' he said. 'For the good of Rome.'

  When he'd gone I went over to Perilla's couch and lay down with her. We hugged each other for a long time, and I let her sob herself quiet against my shoulder while I stared into nothing.

  The credit is entirely yours. We had to do it, for the good of Rome.

  The good of Rome. Oh, Jupiter. The kid hadn't been Marilla's age, and she'd died for the good of Rome...

  There was nothing I could do, not now. Tomorro
w I'd get Bathyllus to check the sailings to Piraeus. It was nearly the end of the season, but there would be something. If necessary I'd get the Wart to lend me a fucking warship: he owed me that, at least, and he'd probably do it just to be rid of me. We could sell the house through an agent. Palatine properties sold easy, and I knew I'd never want to see Rome again. Not ever.

  Marilla...

  Her father would get the Rock, that was certain: even these days it was the statutory penalty for incest, unless the guy had clout, and Marius had no clout left with Sejanus gone. And now the god-rotting senate had found a new taste for blood they'd vote him it nem. con. Sure, she still had family in Spain, but after what she'd said about her uncle I'd fight that to the death. Further.

  'Hey, lady,' I said gently. Perilla stirred. She'd stopped crying now, but her face was still pressed hard into my tunic. 'How does Valeria Marilla sound for a name?'

  There was no answer. I hadn't expected one; not yet, not this early. We'd have to give it time. Maybe lots of time.

  It wouldn't lay all the ghosts, sure; but then I doubted if anything ever would.

  _____________________

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Sejanus follows on directly from Ovid and Germanicus, and uses many of the same characters. The historical details are (I hope!) accurate, although the interpretation of them, as in the earlier books, is my own. In this connection I ought to mention specifically the 'Julian scam' linking Asia, the Rhine, Spain and Gaul. I am quite proud of this, but although again taken individually the details are correct the existence of the scam itself is pure conjecture. However, if anyone happens to be interested in the theory per se I would direct their attention to an additional oddity which Corvinus didn't unearth, the circumstances surrounding the Frisian revolt of AD28, described in Tacitus’s Annals iv 72ff.

  Like most of the characters in the book, Marcus Valerius Messalla Corvinus actually existed, although in his case (and in Perilla's) I have employed only the name and family connections. Thus having Sejanus accuse him of treason is a complete fiction, albeit not a historical impossibility, since Book Five of the Annals, the main detailed textual source for this period, exists only in fragmentary form leaving the years AD30 and 31 (when the story is set) sparsely documented. Another slight abuse of names concerns the two Vibii Sereni. In reality both the Spanish governor and the son who brought the case against him in AD24 shared the same name: Gaius Vibius Serenus. Obviously this would have made for confusion in a novel, hence the change of the son's last name (quite arbitrarily) to Celsus.