'It was Piso, Mother,' said Drusus, 'and his wife, Plancina.'
'They were his agents.'
'Agrippina, for the gods' sake,' Castor appealed to her.
She stared into his eyes. There was kindness there, a genuine love for her, along with a deep concern for her welfare. She guessed the truth. 'You didn't go to him to ask permission at all, Castor. He summoned you.'
Castor's embarrassment was plain. 'I… I care for the boys.'
'But it was all his idea?'
'We want this, Mother,' Nero tried to tell her.
'We love our uncle,' said Drusus. 'This is what's best for us.'
'This is what's best for Tiberius,' said Agrippina. 'He wants you both away from me. He's frightened I'll turn your minds against him.'
'Mother, please. This is terrible,' Nero said. 'We want our uncle to adopt us.'
Agrippina lurched with a fury into the mass of attendants, forcing her way through. 'What about what Rome wants?' she cried over her shoulder. Sosia and Claudia kept pace, striding behind her, their faces still smiling as if nothing was untoward. Confusion gripped the two groups of followers, with Agrippina's trying to make their way through the throng of Castor's clients.
'Where are you going?' Castor shouted after her. 'Agrippina!'
But she was unstoppable.
I stayed where I was, standing still among the clamour all around me. My mind stayed fixed upon the events of the morning — the carnifex, my domina, the strange portent. My teeth ground in my head; I was at risk of being overwhelmed. I forced my mind back to the task at hand. I was here to buy slaves. Tiberius's doings, Agrippina's rage — these were unimportant to me. It was just another day.
My eye wandered across the new parade of vernae slaves that emerged from the market cells. These were healthy slaves, experienced in household service — and many were attractive too, their appeal enhanced by their nakedness. Thanks to the kindness of Agrippina's long-dead mother, Julia, I could read and write, so I scanned the information scrolls around the slaves' bare necks. Each one's health and nationality was detailed, and his or her accomplishments too, along with warrants assuring buyers that the slave had no tendency towards thieving, suicide or epilepsy.
My eye settled on two young children tightly holding each other's hands — a girl of no more than five and a boy of eight or nine. Their scrolls had no warrants but they wore telltale caps on their heads: they were marked as thieves. Alone among the slaves for sale, they showed no fear at their predicament, only courage and a determination that they would never be separated.
Nilla and Burrus recognised me at once, of course, and I, with joy, sang praise to all the gods at finding them again.
'You have a look about you as if you've willfully broken your confinement,' said Antonia, suspicious of her daughter.
Livilla groaned. 'I have been shut up inside this room as a prisoner of my bed, Mother — ask any of my slaves.'
'They wouldn't dare say otherwise, the way you treat them. No, I'm sorry, but you have that look, Livilla, the look you've always had when you do wickedness behind me.'
'Mother, for the gods' sake, I am not a child. And why would I risk wandering pointlessly around the halls when the baby is so close? I could catch a chill from the mists.'
'For years your poor Castor has waited for a son from you, and now you risk everything by exposing yourself to dangers.'
'If you are going to do nothing else but throw hurtful accusations at me, then please leave.' Livilla rolled on her side in the bed, turning her back on all the fussing occupants of the birthing room. Her eyes caught those of the castrated Lygdus, who was pressing himself against the far wall. Livilla was made uncomfortable by the drops of blood that still soaked daily into the hem of his tunica. He had gained weight too, which she disliked in a young eunuch. 'Make yourself busy, Lygdus, if you insist on staring at me rather than doing the job you're supposed to be doing at the front door.'
Lygdus bowed and fell to his knees. At a loss as to what might be deemed 'useful', he began moving the floor dust into little piles with his palms. From the other side of the room the young midwife suddenly sat up straight in her chair at the sight of his pointless activity. The senior birthing mistress in the chair beside her only glanced in the young eunuch's direction once before respectfully addressing Antonia.
'The domina has never once left this room since we have been in attendance this last seven days, Lady,' she said.
The young midwife watched Lygdus's fluttering hands like a cat.
The aged and revered Antonia narrowed her eyes at the senior midwife but chose to give her daughter the benefit of the doubt. 'If you insist then, Livilla.'
'I certainly do.' But she kept her back to her mother, her left arm held protectively across her belly.
Antonia stood to leave. 'I have other calls to make this morning. My friend Aemilia is unwell. Perhaps she'll be glad of my attentions.'
Lygdus's fingers connected with something jammed in a gap between the floorboards under Livilla's bed. He gripped it, unable to squeeze beneath the bed to properly see what it was. He tugged at the thing by the fabric it seemed to be encased in. The object came free. 'Have you lost something, domina?' he whispered to Livilla, holding the surprisingly heavy little object up for her to see.
Livilla glanced at him with only minor interest, but the young midwife stiffened in her chair. 'I've never seen it before,' said Livilla.
Lygdus gave it to her and Livilla upended the little sock. A tiny roll of flattened lead fell into her palm. She looked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, as did Antonia, who had paused in leaving the room. Then mother and daughter met eyes in a shared moment of horror.
'It's a curse tablet!' Livilla screamed, flinging the lead aside. It bounced across the floor, stopping at the guilt-ridden young midwife's feet. 'Oh my gods!'
'Witchcraft!'
'How did it get inside here?'
The young midwife shrank into the wall.
'Open it,' said Antonia. 'Open the foul thing.'
The young midwife froze. Her senior colleague stooped with creaking joints to retrieve it, trying to look as if she felt no fear. 'Could it hold a blessing, Lady?'
Antonia snatched the thing from her and Livilla wailed. 'I won't let you see it, daughter,' said Antonia, 'but I must read it to know who would wish us ill will.'
'Are you sure it's not a blessing?' said the old midwife again.
Antonia dug her nails under the curl of rolled lead. The tablet bent easily in her fingers and she smoothed the abhorrent thing in her palm.
'Tell me what it says,' moaned Livilla.
'It's indecipherable…'
Livilla threw herself from her bed and snatched the tablet from her mother's hands.
'Livilla!'
'It's written backwards…'
'Oh help us, gods,' cried Antonia, feeling weak.
'A mirror — where's my mirror?'
Fearful and bewildered, Lygdus picked up the polished silver disk that Livilla used to study her complexion. ' Domina…'
Livilla plucked it from him and held the tablet to its surface with shaking hands. Legible words were revealed in the reflection. White-faced, Antonia read them with her daughter. By Veiovis, may the child of the slut Livilla lose its eyes and its ears and its mouth and its head.
Only Lygdus, young and strong, had the speed to catch his mistress as she slipped forward. He stopped her swollen belly from striking the ground. But the effort of saving Livilla tore open his wound, causing fresh blood to spill down his leg, before it was lost in a greater flood. Livilla's waters broke around him, gushing to the floor from
