For the first time in a long time the rush of sadness that came to Livilla was very real. But she couldn't risk warning her sensitive daughter as to why. Instead she said, 'When the time comes, the groom who marries you will love you very much, Tiberia. I'll make sure of it.'
Tiberia smiled, happy, as her mother looked guiltily away.
In the street outside, Agrippina waited for her retinue and litter to reach her as Livilla's lurched up the street. The crowds were thick with her supporters, along with many others who were not officially aligned with her faction, yet who still looked upon her with awe. Unlike other patrician women Agrippina had no fear of the rabble. All around her faces beamed with affection and approval. No one spoke or called out to her, such was the respect she commanded. So when the strange words slipped inside her ear, she was surprised by them.
' One would-be queen is one-eyed too until the truth gives comforts…'
She turned around but no one was standing close enough to have spoken them. No one else had even heard them. When Sosia and Claudia reached her, she was pensive.
'Livilla gives her support?' Sosia asked.
Agrippina nodded. 'The truth gives comforts…' she murmured.
'What was that?'
Agrippina felt as if she had just been on the verge of unveiling something, or perhaps she had already unveiled it, yet had somehow missed it, despite a 'truth' standing right in front of her. She had been distracted by something else. Was she herself the distraction?
'Am I one-eyed?' she asked her friends as they climbed into her litter.
Sosia and Claudia cast quick looks at each other.
'You are certainly driven,' said Claudia, tactfully.
Agrippina nodded. 'As was my Germanicus.' Yet she wondered if this was what had been meant.
Little Boots swam with sleek, practised strokes to the edge of the chilled frigidarium pool and hung to the marble edge for a moment, looking over his shoulder to be sure it was really happening. When he knew with certainty that it was, he hoisted himself to the side and stood dripping in the cool, fresh air. A horrified bath slave, no older than Little Boots's twelve years, stood gaping at the wall of the bath hall. He was the only other occupant who hadn't fled.
'Linen,' said Little Boots, aware of the slave without looking at him.
The slave stayed frozen.
'Bring me linen.' He turned to face the boy, showing eyes shot red with blood.
The slave trembled and started to weep.
'If you don't bring linen to dry me right now — '
The boy sprang forward, snatching at a pile of bath linens and knocking most of them into a puddle of water. He slipped as he ran to Little Boots, gashing his knee, but he righted himself in his terror and threw the length of fabric he carried at Little Boot's back.
'Dry me…'
The slave sobbed with fear.
'Don't make me tell you again. You are a bath slave. I am a prince. You are nothing. I am all.'
The wretched boy patted at Little Boots's thin arms and shoulders. Little Boots walked around the perimeter of the pool, forcing the slave to stumble after him until Little Boots halted at the place that gave the best view. He stared with fascination into the depths of the cloudy water while the bath slave shut his eyes.
'The others ran, but you stayed,' Little Boots whispered to him. 'Do you admire me for what I do? Are you impressed by it?'
The boy was too terrified to do anything but nod.
'Good. Then you are the sort of slave I'll be wanting at Oxheads one day. An unshakable slave with courage and fortitude…' His voice faded away. He was mesmerised by the water.
Feeling sick to his guts, the bath slave sensed a flash of movement and turned to see me entering the frigidarium room. The look he gave me was a hopeless, desperate appeal and I noiselessly took the towel from him, pressing my hands to Little Boots's back.
' Domine… where is the eunuch Lygdus?'
Little Boots lurched in fright and tore himself from my touch.
'Where has he gone, domine?'
'You made me do it! It's all your fault, Iphicles!' He sprinted naked across the room, rushing for the door before I could stop him.
' Domine!'
The bath slave threw himself into the freezing pool, gasping at the shock of it, before plunging beneath the surface. I saw then whom he meant to save. Lygdus lay still at the bottom. With a shout of horror I threw myself into the water and, together with the slave, heaved and strained to bring Lygdus to the surface. We dragged his bulk to the long row of steps and fell there, coughing and weeping, as Lygdus's lifeless body lay inert, half in and half out of the chilly pool. I beat my fists on his chest, ordering him to live, until good sense gripped me and I remembered what I had done when I had once found Plancina in a lifeless state. I placed my mouth upon Lygdus's slack lips, pinching closed his nose and forcing the air from my lungs into his. His chest rose and fell and I suppressed my panic, willing myself and the bath slave to remain calm while I fought to win back the life.
At last the air rushed into Lygdus's lungs on its own and he belched a torrent of cloudy water. Weeping with relief, I clung to him. 'It was all a mistake,' I told him. 'The boy is excitable, irrational at times, but he has a good heart and he will learn to love you, Lygdus, just wait and see. He will learn to love you just like he loves me.'
I found the courage to look into Lygdus's eyes and found no trace of anger or accusation there. He just looked at me, seemingly without emotion at all.
'Please believe me,' I begged him. 'Tell me you believe that it was all a mistake, just a silly boy's play. Tell me that you know it to be true?'
Lygdus nodded once, and that was all. Overjoyed, I told myself that he had done so with the utmost conviction, with a rigid faith in the word of Cybele that was almost, truly almost, as iron-hard as my own.
The Ides of April
AD 24
Eleven months later: the war against the rebellious Numidian forces of Tacfarinas ends with his suicide in the forest of Auzea
Screaming at the top of her lungs, Agrippina threw herself forward, her sword raised high above her head and her eyes blazing with all the hatred and fury she contained in her heart. But Flamma deflected her and she slipped on the tiles, knocking her head at the fountain's edge.
'Lady, please — ' I cried.
'I said leave me!' She was bruised and grazed from previous falls and fresh blood trickled from her temple.
'But you're injuring yourself.'
'How does a man learn sword-craft?' she shot at me.
Watching, Nilla gave me a cold look for my slave's petty concern and I saw that Burrus mirrored it. Chastened, I took my place next to my fellow slave Nymphomidia at the edge of the peristyle, feeling no less uneasy.
'Once more,' said Flamma.
Agrippina sprang to her feet and rushed at the hulking gladiator, repeating her scream, hatred still firing in her eyes. She got a sword stroke in, and then another, before the gladiator deflected her once more and she crashed hard to the ground. Agrippina lay there, panting and dazed. I wanted only to stop this but the child Nilla's fierce eyes were upon me, forcing me to keep silent.
Flamma waited, watching Agrippina impassively. Slowly, she got to her feet and stood before him once more with an exultant look. The gladiator nodded then.
'Is this what you claimed me for, Lady?'
'What other use have you?'
Flamma guffawed. 'Well, you got two strokes in — your best effort yet.'
