Caligula

by Douglas Jackson

  Rufus ordered Bersheba to kneel and lifted the wriggling child on to her back, then settled into place behind him. He slapped the elephant on her shoulder. 'On, Bersheba.' As they lurched forward he felt the boy laughing, and when he turned to Callistus the imperial secretary's normally solemn face was split in a wide smile.

  By the time they were finished Rufus and the boy were firm friends. He had difficulty persuading Gnaius to dismount, and it took an order from his father before the child would get down from Bersheba's back.

  Rufus returned Bersheba to the barn and tried to prepare himself for the meeting with Cupido. The encounter with the strange old man and the morning with Callistus's son had allowed him to put the dilemma to the back of his mind, but now he could not hide from it.

  How could he tell his friend that they had become involved in a plot against the Emperor and, perhaps more important, how would Cupido react towards the man who had involved them?

  The Cupido who ruled the arena dealt only in certainties. On the bloodstained sand the simple choice was between life and death and he killed without hesitation in order to stay alive. But in Caligula's Palatine, there were no certainties. Here Narcissus, and his rival, Protogenes, were the masters. Their weapons were information and intrigue and they used them with the same deadly subtlety with which Cupido wielded his long sword. Chaerea might believe he was their equal, but Rufus sensed the Praetorian commander was out of his depth. He was too blunt an instrument to challenge the rapier intellects arrayed against him. Rufus now realized that his arrest was a measure of the veteran soldier's desperation in the wake of the failed assassination attempt.

  But he was still dangerous.

  'I should kill him,' Cupido said reasonably.

  They were sitting in a small annex to the guard quarters Cupido shared with his comrades. The young German had produced a flagon of rough wine and Rufus was enjoying the unfamiliar warmth of it in his belly.

  'Yes, you probably should . . . if you don't care whether you live or die. And Aemila, of course. Chaerea's friends would never leave her alive.'

  'You think Chaerea's Scorpions could best me? I'd squash them flat and take pleasure in doing it.'

  'Not the Scorpions, the Emperor. Caligula believes Chaerea has served him well. It wouldn't look good if he allowed some rogue gladiator to slaughter the commander of his Praetorians. When you are dead, Aemilia will have no one to protect her.'

  'But he is a traitor and I have the Emperor's favour.'

  'True, but the only evidence you have against him is my testimony of what was said at the Castra Praetorium, and if you kill Chaerea I will be dead before I can give it. Do not concern yourself too much, though. The Emperor will no doubt show his favour by allowing you to flavour your wine with a little hemlock.'

  Cupido's handsome face creased in a frown. 'So Chaerea lives, for the moment. Do you have any other clever suggestions?'

  Rufus thought for a second. 'You can't confront Chaerea for the same reasons you can't kill him. I am the only leverage you have and my life wouldn't be worth a bent sesterce if Chaerea discovered that. I don't know what else we can do.'

  'Kill Caligula.'

  Rufus choked on his wine at the words, which came from the corner of the room.

  'Well, do I have no say in this because I am a mere woman, even though I am the only one this . . . this piece of vermin has actually threatened?' Aemilia demanded. 'Am I to sit here awaiting my fate while you dither over a decision which is already made for you?'

  Cupido took the outburst with remarkably good grace. He had sent for Aemilia as soon as he heard of Chaerea's threat, and she had been sitting quietly and listening. Now her eyes were lit with righteous outrage, and Rufus realized for the first time that any man who shared his life with this woman would not have everything his own way. Perhaps it might help if Cupido could be persuaded to take a stick to her.

  'If the decision is so simple, what should it be?' Cupido asked his sister.

  'Do nothing. What can you do but wait? If Chaerea is going to act it cannot be soon. Callistus is now responsible for the Emperor's security and you are agreed it is tighter than ever. Only the Wolves who fought for him when Drusilla was deified are assigned to him for any period of time. All the other Praetorian units can be rotated at short notice. Chaerea cannot afford to strike until he is certain of success.'

  The gladiator looked thoughtfully at Rufus. 'What she says is true.' He winked. 'Even if she is a mere woman.' He ducked as a leather cushion narrowly missed his head. 'But we cannot wait for ever.'

  'No. But time is on your side. Wait, and who knows what might happen? The Emperor's investigators have an endless supply of victims. It is not unlikely that one of the names they hear will be Chaerea's, in which case he would be wise to fall on his own sword. Also, we know Chaerea and his fellow plotters are not the only people seeking change. Others have more subtle methods. Remember Drusilla.'

  Rufus grimaced. 'Drusilla died from some sort of sickness. The only person who thinks she was poisoned is her brother.'

  Aemilia snorted. 'Believe what you like, Rufus, but Agrippina thought her sister was murdered, and who should know better than she, who understands more about the properties of mushrooms than she needs for the kitchen.'

  'You think she had something to do with Drusilla's death?'

  'No, but perhaps you should look to your own friends.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'Only that you keep strange company. It is well known in the palace that Narcissus is Claudius's spy. Why would a slave spend so much time with him, unless it was because he was a spy in his turn? Tell me,' she said sweetly, 'will you report our conversation to your Greek master?'

  Rufus leapt to his feet. 'You –'

  Cupido put a hand on his chest. 'Enough. We did not come here to quarrel. Aemilia, Rufus is my friend and yours. He risked his life to warn us. We are in his debt. You should apologize.' He waited for a reaction, but Aemilia only stared all the harder at Rufus. 'In any case, there may come a time when it is to our profit to keep Narcissus informed. We will see,' he said thoughtfully.

  'And now?' Aemilia demanded.

  'Now we do as you suggest. We wait. But first we let Cassius Chaerea believe I am considering his offer. He will accept the lie at face value because it suits him to do so. At the very least it will keep you safe, Rufus. And you, Aemilia.'

  'I don't need any protection from Chaerea or anyone else,' she said contemptuously. 'The royal household is more secure than any other in Rome. Look to yourself, brother, and you, elephant boy.'

  Rufus ignored the insult. 'Don't underestimate Chaerea. He may be a brute, but he is not stupid and he has a soldier's eye for an opportunity. If he strikes, it will be when you least expect it.'

  Her eyes caught fire. 'I am a princess of the Tungri, and I can protect myself.' Suddenly her mood changed, her face and her posture softened and she laughed and moved close to Rufus, so he could smell the scent of her body. 'Forgive my harsh words, Rufus,' she whispered. 'But know this: if Chaerea strikes he should look to himself, for I too am not to be underestimated.' He felt a slight prick at his throat and looked down to see a jewelled dagger she had produced from the folds of her dress.

  Cupido laughed. 'You look a little pale, Rufus. It appears my sister's company does not agree with you?'

  Rufus swallowed. 'It is just that I am not used to dealing with naughty children. Do you know of a crazy old man who wanders the palace grounds talking of the River Styx?'

  The change of subject caught Cupido by surprise. 'Only one old man walks the palace grounds talking to himself and that is Senator Claudius.'

  'No, not Claudius.' Rufus explained how Livia had discovered the old man by the Palatine wall. He tried to describe him. 'Very thin, with long white hair. He wore this on a piece of leather round his neck. Do you know what it could be?' He produced the strange piece of metal. Cupido looked at it for a few moments.

  'Yes, I have him. I don't know his nam
e and from your description he has changed since I saw him last, but I believe he has a room in the Domus Augustus. He's certainly a little strange. He walks the grounds with his head down as if he is forever looking for something. The guards call him the Scavenger, but I think he has something to do with the water supply.' He took the metal T from Rufus and studied it. 'I have never seen anything like it, but he has had it specially made. Look, you can see the smith's mark just below the crosspiece.'

  'Could you visit his quarters and find out if there is anyone who can come for him? His ravings are beginning to frighten Livia.'

  'Do I look as if I have nothing better to do? I will provide you with a pass to get you to his rooms. Why don't you go with him, Aemilia? But leave your little sword behind – you might hurt someone with it.' He left the room and returned a few minutes later. 'Take this,' he said to Rufus. 'It gives you authority to enter and asks the guard to show you where you wish to go. Do not lose it.'

  XXXIV

  The Domus Augustus lay on the far side of the Palatine, and their route took them through covered walkways and little parks, past shrines and fountains. Aemilia was wearing a long red dress, in a style fashionable among the ladies of the court, and Rufus wondered if she had been given it because Milonia had tired of it. The Emperor's wife was notorious for the enormous amounts she spent on clothing, and, he reasoned, must have plenty to spare. The dress left Aemilia's milky shoulders bare and he could see a light scattering of dainty freckles across them. The sun caught the tiny golden hairs at the base of her neck and he found himself wondering what it would be like to touch them. She was beautiful, sometimes extraordinarily so. Just being with her made him feel more alive. He grinned to himself.

  'What are you smiling at?' she demanded. 'Is there something wrong with my dress?'

  'No. I was just thinking how easy it is to forget.'

  'Forget what?'

  'Nothing. Everything. The things that seem to matter most don't seem so bad on days like these.'

  'What is so different about this day?' she asked suspiciously.

  'Nothing,' he replied, infuriating her further.

  'Sometimes you are such a fool, Rufus,' she snapped, but he kept smiling anyway.

  The guard at the main entrance of the palace gave their pass a cursory glance and allowed them inside. It had once been the largest and most prestigious building on the Palatine Hill, but now the main apartments housed Caligula's lesser relatives, and the smaller rooms were home to a variety of minor palace officials.

  Rufus described the old man and the guard laughed.

  'That's Varrus. He has a place close to the back near the kitchens.' He reeled off a bewildering list of lefts and rights, corridors and stairs. 'If you get lost just follow your nose.'

  The directions were less confusing than Rufus feared, but they were still forced to ask one of the kitchen girls for the exact door to knock.

  'Don't worry, darling. Varrus doesn't have a door. It's the third curtain you passed on the way here. Wife? Don't think so. Anyone know if Varrus has a wife?' she called across the ovens.

  Rufus thanked her, and she laughed coarsely. 'Not planning to stay and taste a little of what you fancy, then? We can always do with an extra pair of hands around here, especially hands like yours, pretty boy.'

  He backed away, face flushed, and bumped into something soft and warm that seemed to yield for a second before pushing him off with surprising strength.

  'We can always do with an extra pair of hands,' Aemilia mimicked. 'Well, you can keep your hands to yourself. Which door is it, pretty boy?'

  For the fifth time that day he revised his opinion of her. She really was insufferable, spoiled, annoying . . .

  'Third on the right.'

  'Come on then,' she ordered, leading the way.

  It was immediately obvious Varrus didn't share the room with a wife or any other kind of companion. It was tiny, smaller even than the space Rufus shared with Livia behind the elephant house. Against one wall, under a shuttered window, was a narrow bed covered by a piece of sackcloth. A few unwashed bowls were stacked beside a larger basin, obviously used for fetching water. Apart from the bed, the only piece of what might be called furniture was a large wooden box standing in a corner near the bed, which must have served as a table.

  Rufus shrugged. 'There's nothing here to tell us who he is, or who might take him off our hands.' He turned to leave, but Aemilia stood her ground.

  'How do you know without looking?'

  He waved at the room. 'Because there's nothing to see.'

  She gave him the look women reserve for men they think have the mental capacity of a dull mouse.

  'What?' He followed her stare. 'It's only a box.'

  'There might be something in it that tells you who he is. Do you still have the key?'

  'What key?'

  She gave him the look again. 'His key. The one he had round his neck when Livia found him.'

  'How do you know it's a key? It doesn't look like any key I've ever seen.'

  'Try it.'

  He knew it wouldn't work, but something told him it wasn't worth arguing. 'Look, it's too big.' He held the T-shaped metal against the small lock on the chest. 'We can't open it, and anyway, it wouldn't be right. Come.'

  She reached past him and grasped the lid, which lifted easily in her hands.

  'Look, I was right,' she said triumphantly, peering into the depths of the box. 'There are documents and another key and . . . what do you think this is?'

  He didn't want to give her the satisfaction, but his curiosity got the better of him.

  It was a piece of parchment, but like nothing he had seen before. Thin lines in different colours criss-crossed and joined each other, superimposed on other fainter lines which he could barely discern in the poor light. Only one feature was more prominent than the rest, a line marked in red, which snaked its way from one side of the parchment to the other with a distinctive zigzag halfway along its length. As he looked more closely, he could see that at the point where the red line zigged left, it was joined by a green line thicker than most of the others, which cut off at an angle to the right.

  'I think it must be some kind of map, but it is difficult to make anything out of it. Maybe if we could look at it in a better light?'

  'Let me see it again.' He handed it to her and she moved under the window. She pursed her lips and traced the thick red line across the map with her finger, squinting to try to interpret the faintest contours, which were almost lost against the old parchment. The expression on her face made her look very young, and he could not stop himself smiling again. She looked up and caught him. 'You're laughing at me. You think I'm stupid,' she said.

  'No, I –'

  'Why don't you take it to your friend Cupido? I'm sure he's cleverer than his stupid sister.' She threw him the parchment. 'What else is in there?'

  He looked into the chest again. It contained three more documents. Two of them seemed to be covered in complicated calculations he did not understand, but the third caught his eye. It was another map, less complex than the first, and the main feature was marked in the same green as the secondary feature on the original.

  'It seems to be a detail from this one, focusing on the green line. Look, there at the edge, that's where it must join the big red line. I wonder what it is?'

  'And what are those?' she wondered, looking over his shoulder. He could feel her softness against his back and suddenly he had difficulty thinking straight. 'Those.' She prodded him in the ribs and he noticed that what he'd thought was a line of smudges were actually tiny symbols which marked the length of the green line at regular intervals.

  'I don't know. There is too much information here to take in at once. We'll have to leave them and return another time.'

  'There may not be another time,' she insisted. 'Take them with us. We can let Cupido see them, and if he doesn't know, you can always ask the old man when he recovers.'

  'The guards won't allow us out of
the palace carrying documents. They'll think we've stolen them, and they'll be right. It's probably just the scribblings of a crazy old man. Random drawings on an old map.'

  She gave him the look again.

  He sighed. 'All right. Where will we hide them?'

  She grinned and pulled up her dress. He had a glimpse of two unsettlingly long legs before he was able to turn his eyes away, and was astonished at the feelings of desire she awoke in him.

  'You can look now.'

  He glanced up and saw a demure Roman maiden in a red dress that fitted a little more snugly than before. She returned his look, and the maiden dissolved into a naughty, laughing schoolgirl.

  'You have no idea how these things scratch.'

  They were on the way back across the Palatine when Rufus noticed Narcissus walking in their direction.

  'Take the documents to Cupido and tell him I'll contact him later today, or when he is off duty tomorrow. Go quickly now, or Narcissus will suspect something,' he whispered.

  The tall Greek increased his speed and marched purposefully towards them. He opened his mouth to greet them, but Aemilia gave him a disdainful stare and sailed regally past, leaving him gasping like a beached fish in her wake.

  Rufus suppressed a smile, but, when he recovered, Narcissus's face was serious.

  'She is a pretty thing, but she has airs far above her status,' he said sadly. 'I fear she does not realize just how dangerous it is to be a thing of beauty in a place where the acquisition of beautiful things is a competitive sport.'

  Rufus had never seen Narcissus show interest in a woman. 'What do you mean? Is Aemilia in danger?'

  'Your naivety never ceases to astound me, young man,' the Greek replied. 'In Caligula's shadow we are all in danger. Perhaps she is in less danger than many, but that would depend on your definition of danger.'

  'I don't understand. You talk in riddles.'

  'You don't need to understand,' Narcissus said dismissively. 'You are a slave – all you need to do is obey. Have you anything for me?'

  Rufus thought back to the hours in the little cell below the Praetorian barracks. Yes, he had much he could tell, but now was not the time. He still did not fully understand his meeting with Chaerea. Any missed nuance could have serious consequences. If some of the information reached the wrong ears, those consequences would be fatal. First let Narcissus show his faith.