Apicata stopped breathing as realisation hit her. She recalled the warning words of Thrasyllus, overheard so long ago in Tiberius's garden while she waited for her daughter's wedding to begin.
' Domina?'
Apicata stood up.
'There's another V.'
'Of course there is,' said Apicata. She began staggering down the street, her hands stretched out in front of her for protection.
'I haven't read you all of the letters!' Calliope called out.
Apicata lost her footing on the cobblestones, crashing hard to the ground. But she righted herself at once and continued fumbling blindly forward.
Calliope rushed up and snatched her arm. 'Stop! Where are you going, domina?'
'To defy the one who has done this to me.'
'Then let me help you — let me guide you there.'
'Go home. I am marked by the god of lies.'
'I don't care. I will not leave you.'
Apicata clutched the girl to her, kissing her wet cheeks. 'Then be my eyes and read me what is written on another thing. Can you do that for me?'
'I will try, domina.'
Apicata began pulling Calliope along with her.
'What am I to read?'
'We haven't reached it yet.'
'But what will it be?'
Apicata's heart was in her throat as she told her. 'A curse tablet.'
Claudia Pulchra stared from the edge of the blackness. It wasn't large, this hole — no more than the span of a man's arms, perhaps — and yet it yawned far wider than Agrippina's beautiful friend and cousin had ever imagined in childhood's nightmares. It was called the Tullianum — the Cistern. It was older than anyone knew and fouler than the worst pits of the Underworld. It haunted the dreams of all Romans, and when Claudia had been a little girl she had been threatened with this hole by her wet nurse — she'd been told she'd be tossed into it for her wickedness. Claudia had claimed not to believe in it — but she knew in her soul, as did everyone in Rome, that wickedness truly led to this place. The Tullianum was real, inescapable. The nightmare was true.
The Tullianum had two levels. The first, where Claudia stood, was where wretches were chained before trial. The second, the subterranean level, was a cavern where water had once pooled after rain. There was one entrance only — the hole in the floor. What lived within it was unknown. To enter it as a prisoner was final.
'What can you see?' Sejanus asked her.
Claudia could see nothing — nothing at all.
'Lean forward. Look into the hole.'
Claudia went to struggle but Macro had tied her hands too securely. His face splitting into a grin, he pulled hard on the rope from the other side of the chasm. Claudia staggered forward, her toes inches from the lip. The Tullianum yawned before her.
'See anything now?'
'Please — '
'Please what?'
'Please don't do this!'
'You've brought it on yourself,' Sejanus said. 'It needn't have been this way.'
'I am a highborn woman, and this… this — '
'Prison?' Sejanus suggested.
'It is for men — it is for lowborn men.'
'They threw King Jugurtha down there. And the Cataline conspirators. They were highborn.'
'I am a woman,' said Claudia. 'This is wrong!'
'What's wrong is treason,' said Sejanus. He looked to the grinning Macro and nodded. The Tribune tugged again and Claudia's arms flew out before her.
'I'm innocent.'
'That is unproven.'
'I've done nothing.'
'Your accusers say you've used spells and poisons against the Emperor.'
'I am not a witch — it's insane.'
'Times have changed,' said Sejanus. 'Witches are all around us now. Look how many lie hooked on the Gemonian Stairs.'
Claudia began to sob. 'Please spare me…'
Sejanus took his place carefully behind her, the tips of his boots snug against her bare heels. He hooked his chin over her slender shoulder, nuzzling her beautiful hair as he placed his arms tight around her belly. She felt the heat of him in the small of her back, pressing against her. He stared into the blackness with her.
'What's inside it? Are there others down there? Or will it only be you when you hit the bottom?'
In the heart of the gloom something slithered. Pinpricks of gold glittered in reflection, caught and held in the blackness.
'Do you see them, Claudia?' She couldn't pull her eyes from what was down there. He kicked his boot against the heel of her left foot and she lost hold. He clutched her to him, not letting her fall. 'What do they eat, do you think?'
'Have mercy!'
'Spare yourself by serving Rome.'
'I can't — it is a betrayal of her…'
Sejanus looked to the Tribune and Macro gave a final, vicious pull to the rope as Sejanus released his hold. Claudia plunged forward, tumbling and twisting, her screams just a crack in her throat as her breath was ripped from her. Her arms snapped taut above her head as she reached the rope's length, her shoulders pulled from their joints. She swung in the void like a bough.
Macro secured the tether to a hook, spitting on his rope-burned hands.
Pinpricks of gold glittered from all sides within the blackness. Broken, naked, starving men crawled on their bellies towards her.
'What do they eat?' Sejanus whispered from above. 'What do they eat, do you think, pretty Claudia?'
Calliope's shrieks at the rats were like vicious little knives stabbing in her mistress's ears, and for once Apicata was glad to be blind, if only to be spared the sight of the temple's vermin.
'Find it,' Apicata ordered the girl.
'How can I find it among so many, domina?'
'Use the eyes the Fates have spared you. Find it!'
The young maid sobbed, snatching at the scores of curse tablets nailed to the base of the statue and trying to determine what they might say from single letters alone. It was hopeless, doomed.
'Find it!' Apicata flung a fistful of the vermin's filth at her. 'Find it for me!'
Calliope fled, rushing from the hall and down the slimy, broken steps, not letting herself stop until she felt the kiss of sunshine on her face again and breathed air that smelled crisp and clean and not foul like the breath of the damned.
Apicata screamed after her with threats of violence, but when her voice cracked hoarse, echoing in the emptiness, she turned to begging for the girl to return to her, begging for her help to find the truth. But Calliope was gone and Apicata was left to fumble, all alone in the slurries of dung, praying loudly to Veiovis to lead her to the tablet that would let her know the truth.
The god observed her with dispassion until her desperation stirred something in his heart. He was not an evil god, just mischievous. To foster lies and hidden truths was surely not as vile as the gods who fostered agony and death. But then perhaps he was no different? Perhaps he was so much worse?
Apicata turned sharply at the crack of masonry from above. A finger from the god's right hand detached itself and fell. Covering her head, Apicata screamed in terror, not knowing what it was, but nothing struck her. The finger
