Caligula

kill Chaerea first.

'His sister means nothing to him. They were apart for years after their capture. She despises him for allowing her to be taken,' he said.

'How very loyal. But there is really no point in lying to me. My friends and I know everything, you see. But perhaps it is not your friend you are protecting; perhaps the German bitch means more to Rufus, the elephant man, than she does to her brother? What would your pretty wife think if she knew the way you mooned over her?

'But come, I did not bring you here so we could disagree. Narcissus trusts you with his intimacies, so we are not altogether on different sides. I ask only that you repeat what has been said here to your German friend. He is in a position to do the Empire a great service. A single blow from him could have the impact of an entire army. He has only to strike it and he will be the most honoured man in Rome. Will you do this for me?'

'And if I don't?'

Chaerea shook his head sadly. 'Your wife carries the continuation of your line inside her. It would be unfortunate if that line were to be… cut.'

It was after dawn when the escorts returned Rufus to the barn on the Palatine, by the same narrow stairway which was so fortuitously unguarded.

Wearily, he opened the double doors, to find Bersheba looking miserable and shuffling in her chains.

'An hour late with your breakfast, girl. No wonder you're pining.'

He spent fifteen minutes filling her hay bags and managed to find some of the bruised apples she liked so much. Satisfied she had everything she needed, he slapped her on one enormous buttock and quietly opened the door of his home. To find another man in his bed.

XXXIII

He was old, and very thin, and he rocked back and forth mumbling almost inaudibly to himself. Livia sat by his side, bathing his forehead with a damp cloth. She looked up as Rufus entered, the relief written clearly on her face.

'I… I feared you might be gone for longer.'

He almost smiled at the understatement. The truth was she had feared he might be gone for ever.

'Did they harm you?'

He shook his head. 'No. I was never in any danger — at least I don't think so. It was a mistake, but a mistake which took all night to correct. Once I convinced them who I was, they freed me. Who's our new friend?'

Livia chewed at her lip. 'I don't know. I found him.'

Rufus laughed. It sounded so unlikely. If you were lucky you found a sesterce someone had dropped. An addled old man was different.

Livia explained: 'I went out this morning hoping to see you, or at least hear news of you. He was lying on the grass near the wall babbling to himself. I think he must have tried to climb it and fallen.'

'Then he's doubly fortunate. If he had managed to get over it, the fall on the other side would have killed him. And if you hadn't found him when you did he might have died of cold. He looks very frail.'

'I'm frightened of him. He keeps talking about some terrible river. He was wearing this round his neck. Is it some kind of strange charm?'

The object she handed him was a piece of metal, about six inches in length and in the shape of an elongated T, except it also had two prongs protruding horizontally from the bottom end, slightly shorter than the upper arms of the T.

He shook his head. 'I don't know. I've never seen anything like it. I don't recognize him, but he must belong somewhere in the palace. Someone in the guard will know him. I need to talk to Cupido. I'll ask him if anyone has lost an old man.'

The object of their discussion gave a start, as if he had been listening, and his eyes opened in alarm as if he could see something they could not.

'So many. So many I cannot count them all,' he groaned, rocking his head from side to side. 'But I must help them on their way. Where is the ferryman? There must be a ferryman. Have they not paid him? Have they not paid him to make the journey over the river?'

The words emerged in one long, rambling sentence and Rufus could barely make them out. He knew he should have felt pity, but his long night with Chaerea had robbed him of any capacity for sympathy.

'What river? Tell us what river?' He shook the old man by the shoulder, and for a moment the eyes focused.

'The Styx.'

Rufus pulled his hand away as if he'd been burned, and when he looked at Livia her eyes were as wide as he knew his must be. She was making the sign, and, belatedly, he followed her example.

'What can we do with him?' she whispered. He was tempted to say 'Take him back where you found him and leave him there,' but he had seen enough death recently not to want to add to it, even by natural causes.

'What else can we do? Give him a bowl of broth and hope he gets better and goes back where he belongs.'

A few hours later, Rufus called at the guardroom and asked for Cupido. One of the Praetorians he knew by sight answered. 'He's on watch, but if you come back later he should be here around the eighth hour.'

He spent the rest of the morning exercising Bersheba, and he was surprised when, close to midday, he turned the elephant to find Callistus watching them. For once, the palace secretary wasn't accompanied by his normal entourage. Instead, a small boy who looked about five years old stood at his side, pointing excitedly at the elephant.

Rufus brought Bersheba to a halt a few paces from them and slid from her back. He approached Callistus and bowed.

'My son has been asking to see the elephant ever since I told him about her,' the imperial secretary explained, smiling indulgently at the child. 'I promised to bring him today, though he should be at his lessons.'

This was a different Callistus from the one who organized the parade for Drusilla's divinity. The cloak of official menace he habitually wore was missing and his voice held a deep affection for the boy that surprised Rufus.

The child stared wide-eyed at Bersheba, as if he could not quite believe what he was seeing. He had short- cropped dark hair, and his father's long nose was already making its presence known, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes that Rufus liked. He had an idea.

'Would he like to ride her?'

The boy grinned shyly but Callistus's face took on an expression heavy with paternal protectiveness. 'Will he be safe?'

Rufus laughed. 'Bersheba has carried the Emperor himself. He did not complain.'

Callistus nodded. 'Of course. In that case, yes, but only for a short time.' He ushered the boy forward. 'Do not be frightened, Gnaius. This is the Emperor's elephant and she is very tame.'

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