Call it imagination if you like; but when I spoke the name I swear the room itself held its breath. Livia's eyes were dark pools of hate, staring into mine.
'Nothing,' she said, 'happened to Asprenas.'
'That's right. Would you like to tell me why?'
The silence lengthened. Finally she said:
'No. No, I would not.'
43.
Yeah. Just that. A straight refusal, the last-ditch reply of someone who was guilty as hell. If I'd had any doubts about being right, that put the lid on them. I'd got the bitch and both of us knew it. The spasmed muscle in my leg suddenly quietened.
'Very well, Excellency,' I said. 'Then I'll tell you. The solution's simple. Asprenas wasn't punished for his part in the plot because Augustus didn't know he was involved. Silanus never mentioned him. He'd been instructed not to by you, because Asprenas was needed for something else. Or am I wrong?' I paused for an answer that didn't come; then said softly: 'Only unfortunately Silanus wasn't the only person who knew about Asprenas, was he? There was someone else whom you couldn't instruct. Not one of your own people. A neutral outsider, a personal friend of Julia's who knew Asprenas by sight and guessed what was going on.' Silence. Total, absolute silence. I felt as if I was walking on glass. 'How did Ovid find out, Excellency?'
I didn't think she would answer, but finally she did: drily, clinically, in a voice devoid of emotion.
'He called round by chance with a book Julia wanted and saw Asprenas and Paullus coming out of the study together. I don't know the details, but they were incriminating.'
'So after wrestling with his conscience, like a good citizen he decided to report what he'd seen. Only the report was never made because he talked to the wrong person.'
'He came to the palace shortly afterwards.' Livia's voice was matter- of-fact. 'The emperor was engaged and it was easy to have him brought to me. He didn't realise his mistake, of course. Not until much later.'
'So you had to get him out of Rome, fast. Permanently. You couldn't risk Asprenas's name being linked in the emperor's mind with the idea of conspiracy. And if Ovid had still been around when news of the German disaster broke he might've put two and two together and gone to the palace again. To Augustus himself this time.'
'Ovid was a fool.'
I shook my head. 'No, Excellency. He was only a poet mixed up in politics, doing his best as he saw it.'
'A well-intentioned bumbler can cause far greater harm than a conscious enemy. As, Corvinus,' she almost smiled, 'I'm sure you yourself appreciate.'
I ignored the barb. 'So you had a quiet word with Augustus. Jupiter knows what you told him – that Ovid had been screwing Julia himself while they recited pornographic poetry together; that he was secretly fifty different kinds of pervert and was better off dead. And the emperor, who disliked Ovid and his poetry at the best of times, believed you. Or maybe he didn't think it mattered.'
Livia's mouth twisted. 'Oh, he thought it mattered, young man! My oh-so-straitlaced husband was at heart a hypocritical, frustrated libertine who castigated the vices of others precisely because they were his own. The Ovid I showed Augustus was his secret self, performing the acts that he would have performed if he had had the courage. What could the poor fool do but exile him?'
A cold finger touched my spine. I'd been given a glimpse of Livia's real face; and I knew that the most dangerous thing I could do was let her know she'd shown me it.
'Let's talk about Germany, Excellency,' I said.
She didn't answer, but I felt her stiffen.
'Frontier provinces were Augustus's responsibility. He made the policy decisions and took the glory or the raps personally. You would agree?'
'Yes.'
Was it my imagination or was she beginning to show signs of nerves herself? 'So if someone wanted to create a major embarrassment for the emperor the frontiers were the place to do it.'
No answer again; but her expression was set hard under the thick makeup.
'Okay, so which frontier would they choose? Forget the southern provinces. Parthia's keeping her head down at present, so the east's out as well. The Danube's possible, but that's Tiberius's stamping ground, and the person I have in mind wouldn't want him involved, especially after the Illyrian revolt.' Still no response, but I could see a trace of moisture on the caked powder of her forehead. 'That leaves Germany. And Germany is perfect because Augustus is responsible for it all the way down the line. He makes the policy, he assigns the legions, he chooses the governor. And if anything does go wrong there your son Tiberius is close by to save the situation. Am I right?'
'Corvinus, I swear to you–'
I waited, but that was all she said. Her mouth had shut tight as a clam.
'You want to take over, Excellency?' I said.
'No.' The moisture on her forehead had gathered into a bead of sweat that was dragging a runnel through the powder. 'Go on.'
'Very well.' I shifted my weight, and the chair creaked like old bones rubbing together. 'So let's talk about Varus. His appointment to the German command was your suggestion, wasn't it, Excellency?'
'Varus was a natural choice. He was a proven administrator with wide military experience, loyal to my husband...'
'That doesn't answer the question.'
Her eyes flashed. 'I told you. He was a natural choice. That should be enough.'
'Sure he was; but not for the reasons you've given. You chose Varus because first he was rotten as a bad fig where money was concerned and second because his nephew was Nonius Asprenas.' Her mouth was tight as an iron trap. 'When they got to Germany it was Asprenas's job to encourage the old man's greed, see to it that he made himself unpopular with the natives, maybe even lay himself open to a charge of maladministration. Only that wasn't enough for your purposes, was it? You needed something that would really smack the emperor in the jaw. You needed Arminius.'
Silence. Her eyes glared at me through the whiteness of the powder. I went on.
'Arminius was pure gold. Ambitious, two-faced as Janus, a natural actor and a natural liar. Roman-educated, Roman-trained. Plausible. Asprenas was to be your pimp, introduce the two, make sure they ended up in bed together.'
'An intriguing metaphor. You are speaking metaphorically, I trust?'
'Luckily for him, that part turned out to be easy. Varus saw a quality in Arminius that he'd always respected but never had himself: commitment. Varus took it for commitment to Rome, but that was his bad judgement and Arminius's good acting; and when the time came it swung the balance, because the old guy wanted to believe Arminius could be trusted.' I paused. 'So. By the time he gets to Germany Varus is pretty well softened up. Arminius comes to him and spins him a fairy-story about creating a client-kingdom between the Rhine and the Elbe...'
'No fairy-story. The concept was quite sound. And we needed a change of policy.'
'Sure. Okay, if you say so, Excellency. Anyway, Arminius offers Varus a pretty big retainer for his co-operation, and Varus, who trusts his motives, agrees. The scam's very profitable, and it doesn't even rub his conscience up the wrong way. Then comes the crunch.'
She'd tensed herself again. We were on the most sensitive ground of all here, and I knew it.
'Arminius tells Varus that he needs one last favour: a military embarrassment to consolidate his hold over the tribes. On the march back to Vetera he's to allow himself to be decoyed into the Teutoburg. There Arminius will attack him but allow him to withdraw with his army intact.' I paused again, and then said softly: 'Only that wasn't the real agreement, was it, Excellency? The attack wasn't going to be the farce the old guy was expecting. When Arminius hit it would be for real.'
I'd got through to her at last. The mask cracked completely, and the frightened woman showed through.
'It was a mistake!' she whispered. 'We wanted a humiliation, not a massacre!'
'Sure.'
'Believe me! Arminius swore that the attack would be a limited engagement!'
A limited engagement.
I felt like throwing up all over the bitch's marble flooring.
'Three legions,' I said quietly. 'Fifteen thousand men butchered, just so your boy could take a step nearer the purple. How the fuck do you sleep at night, lady?'
But the mask was back in place and the empress had herself under control again.
'I use poppy juice, Corvinus. I always have done,' she said. 'And in any case bad dreams are a small price to pay for the safety of Rome. Which brings us to yourself. What is your price, young man?'
The suddenness of the question took me by surprise.
'My price?'
'The price of your silence.'
'Nothing, Excellency.'
'Nothing?'
'A handful of ashes. You would call it nothing.'
She stared at me so long I felt the sweat breaking out on my forehead. Then she said, very quietly:
'Don't presume to dictate my own values to me, Corvinus. Political advancement would be nothing, property or money would be nothing. Ovid's ashes are not nothing.'
Shit. 'Did you hate him so much, Excellency?'
'He nearly ruined all my plans for my son, all my plans for Rome. Had he been a politician we could have dealt with each other, but he was not. He was a well-meaning bumbler who wouldn't have understood bargaining if it had hit him in the face. Yes, I hated Ovid that much. I still do. I would have had him killed, only Tomi was worse.' She stood up, and for the first time I realised how small she was; small and frail. I could have reached over and snapped her in half like a rotten branch. 'Nevertheless, young man, you will have your handful of ashes. But never believe that you have let me off lightly.'
I stood too. As if at a signal (had she given one, somehow?) the doors behind me opened and the secretary was there waiting to escort me out.
'Goodbye, Valerius Corvinus,' Livia said with stiff formality. 'I will see that the necessary arrangements are made.'
I bowed and turned to go. I had almost reached the door before another thought struck me.
'One more thing, Excellency,' I said. 'I want a woman.'
She stared at me and I heard the secretary's sharp, scandalised intake of breath. Then for the first time the empress smiled.
'Any woman?' she said.
'No. You know the one I mean.'
'Very well. It will be arranged.'
I bowed again, and left.
44.
But the day wasn't over yet. When I got home Bathyllus met me in the lobby.
'You have a visitor, sir,' he said quietly.
'Yeah?' I stripped off my cloak and my mantle and handed them to him. 'Who's that?'
'I took the liberty of showing him into your study. I thought perhaps you would prefer to talk in private.'
The study door was closed. As I opened it, the man inside turned...
Asprenas.
My hand had reached for the dagger at my left wrist before I remembered that I wasn't carrying it. You don't, usually, on visits to the palace. Asprenas had caught the movement. He smiled and shook his head.
'No, Corvinus,' he said. 'You're quite safe from me now, especially since you've chosen to handle this thing sensibly. It's over. And if I'd wanted to kill you I would hardly choose your own house to do it in.'
Without taking my eyes from him I half-turned.
'Bathyllus! Some wine. I'll talk to you later.' Then, to Asprenas, 'You're not welcome here. Get out. Now.'
He pulled up a chair and sat down.
'Don't blame the slave,’ he said. ‘I twisted his arm.'
'He should've known better.' I sat down myself, far enough away for safety. Also I didn't want to breathe the same air as him any more than I could help.
'You've just come from your interview with the empress.'
'Yeah.'
'And she told you that our intention was to humiliate Varus and through him the emperor.'
I nodded.
'I thought she might. By the way, I'm glad you chose Livia and not Tiberius. It relieves me of my obligations.'
I gripped the arms of my chair, hard, to stop my hands shaking with disgust.
'So what do you want, Asprenas?' I said. 'Tell me, then get the fuck out of my house.'
He smiled. 'I don't want anything. I have everything I need, thank you. But I thought perhaps you deserved congratulations. And, perhaps, some final clarification.'
'What sort of clarification? If it's about what you did to Varus you can save your breath.'
'That's precisely what it's about.' He leaned back in his chair, completely at his ease. 'Admissions first. Yes, I arranged things on Livia's behalf with Arminius. Yes, I forged the letter we showed you. That ought not to have been necessary, but my uncle persistently and categorically refused to incriminate himself in writing. And yes, of course I was wholly responsible for the attacks on yourself and for the Lady Rufia's kidnapping. These last the empress knew nothing about, although she would have approved if she had. However I cannot leave you with the impression that Livia is totally innocent– I mean innocent of fifteen thousand deaths. I'm not that altruistic.'
There was a knock at the door: Bathyllus with the wine. I sent him away.
Asprenas leaned forward. 'Corvinus, do you honestly think that Livia didn't know what Arminius intended to do? Yes, trouble in Germany would have damaged Augustus. But Livia wasn't interested in simple damage. She wanted to destroy him.'
I couldn't believe this.
'You're saying that Livia intended a massacre from the start?'
Asprenas was smiling.
'Of course she did. I had my orders before I left Rome. Not the details, of course, simply the broad outline. Arminius, too, although he was acting for himself just as much as for Livia.'
'You're wrong. Not even Livia is that much of a bitch.'
He stared at me. 'Think, boy! Isn't it obvious? She had to do something because her position was becoming desperate. Augustus had woken up to the fact that he was being manipulated. Postumus was still alive and a growing threat. Augustus had to be destroyed while her influence over him still held good.'
'So why didn't she poison the guy, like the rest of his family? Don't tell me she had scruples.'
'She couldn't. Augustus still hadn't formally recognised Tiberius as his successor. She had to smash the emperor's confidence in himself and make certain that it was Tiberius that he turned to. You can see that, can't you, Corvinus?'
I remembered the stories of how Augustus had reacted when the news of the massacre had reached Rome; how he had woken in the night, screaming.
'Quinctilius Varus, give me back my legions!'
'Yeah,' I said. 'I can see that.'
'So you believe me?'
'I don't know.' I shook my head dully. 'I don't know any more.'
He got up. 'You believe me. You have to, because it's the truth.'
'You want to swear that?'
His eyebrows rose in surprise. 'If you wish.'
'Would it mean much if you did?'
'Not a lot; but I will if you insist.'
I felt my gorge rise. 'Get out of my house, Asprenas. Get out now.'
He shrugged and turned, then paused, his hand on the doorknob.
'I'm glad I didn't succeed in killing you,’ he said. ‘I'm not a killer. Not in cold blood, anyway. Once was enough.'
'Once?' I said – and then remembered Davus, lying with his throat slit under a pile of grain. So that had been Asprenas himself. I was surprised he'd told me.
'Oh, by the way,' Asprenas was still smiling, and completely relaxed, 'there aren't many of us who know about the Varus affair, and we're a privileged group. The empress has to keep us sweet. She hasn't much influence with her son these days but she can still manage a favour or two. You're on your way up, young man.'
My fists clenched; but I couldn't've so much as touched the bastard.
'I'm not interested in politics,' I said. 'Not your sort, anyway.'
'It's your duty. You owe it to the state. Just remember I told you.'
The door closed quietly behind him. After he had gone I had the bath slaves scrub me until my flesh was raw. Then I got drunk.
45.
We buried him in December, the day before the start of the Winter Festival, in the garden of his villa outside Rome. He had no mausoleum, not even a stone, but that wasn't important: the earth was Roman earth, not the hateful frost-locked soil of Tomi. There were only four mourners, if mourners is the right word on what was after all a happy occasion: myself, my father, Perilla and his widow. The Lady Fabia Camilla watched the ceremony with vacant eyes; but when I'd lowered the small casket into the narrow hole she threw in after it a single handful of dried rosebuds. I filled the hole in, laid the cut turf on top and stamped it flat.
'Rest quietly Father,' Perilla whispered beside me. 'You're home now.'
We walked back to the house through the bare-branched orchard.
'He wrote most of his poetry here in the garden.' Perilla was smiling, as if she saw not a bleak December day but the sharp yellow of narcissi against a pale blue cloudless sky. Perhaps she did. 'He would have approved. “Every place has its own fate”.'
From her tone I knew it was a quotation, but it wasn't one I knew. Maybe one of his own lines.
'Dine with me today?' My father laid one hand on my shoulder, the other on Perilla's. She smiled.
'Yes, Father.'
Did I answer him, or was it Perilla? I can't remember now. In any case it didn't particularly matter.
_________________
AUTHOR'S NOTE
The main characters in Ovid are historical. I have, however, taken some minor liberties with them for reasons of plot.
First, the real Valerius Corvinus was much older than I have made him: he and his Uncle Cotta were joint consuls for AD 20 (the year after the story closes), which would put him in his mid-thirties at least.
Junius Silanus was still abroad at the time of the story. Tiberius did not authorise his recall until the following year.
Perilla in Ovid's poetry is simply 'Perilla'. The rare family name Rufia belongs common only at a later date, and I gave her it for reasons of my own. It has no connection with the last name of her husband.
Ovid (Marcus Corvinus Book 1) Page 28