He had never felt so satisfied as when he stepped back to survey his achievement, a smile splitting his face. The secretary was right: she did look magnificent.
He looked into the soulful brown eyes. 'I thank you, Bersheba. You have made me proud.'
Bersheba looked back. Was there a twinkle there?
'No!'
Yes. It began as a twitch of her shoulders and rippled down her massive flanks as an almost imperceptible wriggle, ending in a profound shake of her huge backside and a twitch of her tail. Slowly, infinitely slowly, the golden mantle slipped sideways, until it finished up hanging between her legs.
The roar of frustration that echoed across the Palatine scared the pigeons from the trees and rooftops.
But the one thing Rufus had learned in his years with Fronto's animals was perseverance. He knew he would win in the end, and a day before they were due to lead the parade Bersheba stood before him, a sight to chill the blood, her ceremonial armour firmly in place; a living mountain of glittering golden fragments which sparkled individually in the sunlight.
He sent for Callistus. The palace official narrowed his eyes and studied Bersheba from every angle then nodded with satisfaction.
'Wait,' he ordered.
A few minutes later he returned with the Emperor at his side, followed by Protogenes and a small weasel-like individual Rufus realized must be the Emperor's chamberlain. Rufus was shocked by Caligula's appearance. He had not seen the Emperor since his sister's death and the interval had wrought a dreadful change in the young man. His hair was long and lank, his beard matted, as if he had been neither shaved nor barbered in many months. His eyes were sunk deep in his head and his cheeks had the sallow complexion of candlewax.
Caligula stopped so suddenly when he saw Bersheba that Protogenes almost ran into his back and had to throw himself clumsily sideways to avoid the collision. The Emperor stared wide-eyed at the elephant as if he had never seen her before.
'Truly this animal is worthy of my sister,' he cried. 'If only I had a dozen, no, a hundred, like this, I could do her the honour she deserves.' Rufus could see his eyes were moist. Caligula gave a huge sniff and addressed him directly. 'Do your duties well, slave, and be sure your Emperor will reward you.'
Later, while Rufus sat in the little room behind the elephant house with his stomach twisted by doubts, Livia questioned him.
'If the Emperor offers you a reward, what will you ask?' she said seriously.
He shrugged. 'It is too early to think of such things. If anything goes wrong tomorrow I could be dead by nightfall.'
'But there must be something you wish for more than anything else?' she insisted.
She was right. Rufus knew exactly what he would ask. But to say it out loud seemed to be to risk losing it. The gods liked to have their little jokes with the ambitious and the proud. They enjoyed giving hope and then replacing it with despair; he had had experience of that. But Livia would not give up and eventually he capitulated.
'I suppose I will ask to buy our freedom,' he said casually, as if it was not the most momentous thing in the world. 'Fronto still has the money he was saving for me. It might not be enough on its own, but I think he will advance me what I need. We could make a good living together.'
Livia struggled to hide her disappointment. How could he not understand?
For the first time in her life she had escaped. For the first time in her life she possessed something. It was not a lot. Only a draughty little room that stank continually of elephant dung, with a husband who was more boy than man and was sometimes naive to the point of foolishness. But it was hers.
She had had her fill of loneliness. Reviled as some kind of monster as soon as it became clear she would grow no taller, she had been sold into slavery by her father. Treated at first as a toy, then as a sexual plaything, by her master, she had been discarded as soon as he tired of her and slipped to his next level of depravity. Other masters and similar experiences followed, but when she was sold into the troop of dwarves she thought she had finally found, at the very least, companionship. She was wrong. For she, young, pretty and with a recognizably human form, was as different from them, with their overdeveloped arms and legs and stunted bodies, as they were from normal adults. They hated her.
Only her aptitude as a performer, one who enhanced their reputation, brought her acceptance. And if she was desired by the men who eyed her greedily as she danced and tumbled, at least they ate the better for it.
Rufus, and the Emperor, had saved her from that life. And now her husband was threatening her security — their security — to follow some impossible dream.
Could he not see that Caligula would never set him free? There was only one Emperor's elephant, and only one man who could control it. He had as much chance of freedom as Bersheba did. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Rufus stared at her. The knock came again, harder this time, full of authority. He got up and cautiously opened the door just a crack.
'A man could get a warmer welcome in Dacia.'
'Cupido!'
Livia glanced up as the German came into the room. He looked very young and impossibly handsome in his gleaming wolf breastplate, his golden hair contrasting with the sinister black of his tunic.
'I came to wish you good fortune, Rufus. Aemilia and I sacrificed a white cockerel to the old gods and the signs were good. My sister threw the sticks for us. They foretell that both you and I will face trials but united we will overcome them and be victorious. The gods will it.'
Rufus felt an involuntary shiver. Something in the way Cupido spoke the word contained a shadow of warning. 'Trials? What kind of trials?'
'It is but a word.' Cupido shrugged, but Rufus could see he was not entirely convinced. Was his friend keeping something back? He knew Aemilia claimed to have the sight, but messages from the gods came in many forms and were not always straightforward.
'What kind of trials?' he repeated.
Cupido glanced towards Livia, but Rufus read the meaning in his eyes. Do not press me on this. Trust me.
'Know only that I will be at your side when the need is greatest,' the gladiator said, attempting to lighten the mood. 'The Tungrian cohort will provide close escort to the Emperor tomorrow. Make sure Bersheba does not drop anything on my line of march — I have just bought new sandals.'
Rufus stared at him for a few seconds, then smiled. What did it matter? What the gods willed, the gods willed, and nothing mere men could do would change it. The only certainty was that his friend would be only a few feet behind him when Bersheba led the procession to the new temple of Drusilla which Caligula had dedicated on the Capitoline Hill. And that was enough.
Cupido stayed only a little longer. When he had left, Rufus turned to Livia with a smile, but she was concentrating on her sewing and did not look up.
He would make her and the Emperor proud. Trials and a victory.
XXVIII
Rufus opened the barn doors the next morning to be greeted by a sun that seemed to have been created specifically for Drusilla. It shone with an extra lustre, as if the gods had polished it in honour of the newest member of their pantheon. When he led Bersheba out, the plates of her ceremonial armour shimmered like a golden skin, and he knew Drusilla's statue would blind and awe everyone who looked upon it this day.
Bersheba was on her best behaviour and had accepted her awkward accoutrements without any sign of rebellion. When Callistus came to the barn at the fifth hour to pass judgement he tutted disapprovingly and instructed Rufus to polish a joint here, a plate there, but Rufus could see the secretary was almost as proud of the elephant as he was. Rufus too, feeling uncomfortably martial in his guard's uniform, passed Callistus's inspection, and they were ready.
