'We can't! They're damned — do you hear me? Every last one of them is damned by the gods, except the one the gods have chosen.'
'So one of them will be spared?'
'I have told you many times who that will be — it's Little Boots.'
Lygdus said nothing more for several moments, until, just as I concluded that our discussion was done, he whispered, 'What if we'd do better sparing another?'
I raised my hand to strike him but he didn't even flinch. He merely stared me in the eye with a look of hope on his face. I heard a tiny voice of doubt in me, a voice I had heard before. I had ignored it before, and easily. But this time its call was clearer, sharper, and painful in my heart. 'What,' the voice asked me, 'what if the question to be asked is not whether the prophecy is right — about that there is no question — but whether the prophecy is good?'
Lygdus waited.
'It's not meant to be anyone else but Little Boots,' I said at last. But he saw the effort that saying this cost me.
The eunuch followed me as I left the alley, but he did not walk at my side. He stayed several paces behind, so that I couldn't see his face and he couldn't see mine. When we had descended the hill and were facing the Forum throng, he called out to me. 'You're going on holiday, Iphicles.'
I turned. 'What are you talking about?'
'You're being sent away. I heard them talking about it.'
'No, I'm not.'
'Yes, you are. Tiberius is doing a tour of the countryside with Sejanus and he wants you among the slaves.'
I stared at him. 'Why does he want me?'
'I've no idea,' said Lygdus. 'But that's what the order was. Like I said, I heard them talking.'
I was bewildered.
'It could be worse — at least you'll be near the seaside.'
'But what about the domina?'
Lygdus shrugged. 'She'll be with Nero. And me.'
I was too startled to reply, but when I finally thought of something Lygdus was walking away ahead of me.
'What do you mean she'll be with Nero? Where is he taking her?'
'To Fidenae,' Lygdus called over his shoulder. 'Since Tiberius has gone sour on the Ludi now, Nero thinks Rome has become boring. He's right. Rome is boring. But there's a new wooden amphitheatre five miles up the Tiber, so Nero wants to attend the inaugural games there. At Fidenae they still appreciate entertainment.'
'What has this to do with Livia?' I demanded.
Lygdus just shrugged again. 'He wants to carry her around in his retinue like Castor did.' He disappeared into the crush of Forum traffic.
'Wait! Lygdus!' I tried to shout after him. 'Is this your doing?'
But he was gone.
I stood there devastated. My precious son was hatching schemes of his own.
Ludi Romani
September, AD 26
One week later: the murderer of Lucius Calpurnius Piso escapes his captors while being taken to torture, dashing his head on a rock to kill himself
I felt the stirrings of the subterranean beast again when I was little prepared for it.
My favourite brothel in Rome was Circe's Enchantments, an establishment I had taken to visiting twice a week, using as many sestertii as I could save from tips and pilfering. My capacity for sexual acts was somewhat limited, obviously, but I had found the means of pleasuring myself by way of pleasur ing others, and this I engaged in with vigour. Circe's was a comparatively clean establishment, with a team of passably pretty girls and catamites in hired alcoves built into the side of the Theatre of Marcellus. On festival days these alcoves were awash with high-spirited customers at the end of each performance. But on ordinary days Circe's dropped its prices and ran all the 'she-wolves' from the brothel's other premises at the base of a Suburan apartment block.
The good-natured madam was an old whore called Lena — as madams were invariably called in Rome — and she made a name for herself by providing services for those of us whose needs were 'unconventional'. It should not have been a surprise to me, really, when my life at Circe's and my life at Oxheads collided. I was not the only Oxheads slave to enjoy the establishment. But I was surprised when the collision came and, what's more, I was made decidedly uncomfortable by it.
Tiberius's uncharacteristic tour of the countryside around Rome took him to some delightful locales. We journeyed through towns and bucolic hamlets that he hadn't visited in decades, if ever. On each new road we travelled crowds lined the way, cheering Tiberius and casting flowers. His habit of tossing coins certainly added to their enthusiasm, but they would have cheered him anyway for the sheer novelty of having the Emperor among them. The traitor hunts hadn't extended to rural Italy, and so the people had no reason to think ill of Tiberius — or Sejanus, for that matter.
With his goblet in one hand and his coins in the other Tiberius made an endearing sight for those who saw him smiling down upon them from his throne. He reminded some wags in the crowd of the doddering old uncle from an Oscan farce, being carried off to his wedding to a blushing teenage bride. But in the pretty hills, when Tiberius halted his procession in order to climb down and walk, I was shocked to see that the joke was actually near the truth. Tiberius was sexually aroused. His purple robes couldn't hide the erection he had achieved beneath their folds. Plenty among the crowd saw it too and hooted their approval. Quite without shame, Tiberius strode about like a cockerel, still tossing his coins, while Sejanus smiled indulgently from his horse.
But something in the crowd made Tiberius stop abruptly. His good mood vanished, as did his erection. He rushed back to his throne.
'Caesar?' said Sejanus.
Tiberius would not answer, or even look at him.
'What is it, Caesar?'
Tiberius signalled the men who carried his throne to make haste.
From where I stood among the retinue of household slaves, I craned my neck to see what Tiberius might have been upset by in the crowd. But there was nothing strange. Just a sea of happy faces, some clutching flowers, others babies, and even, here and there, domestic pets. One woman held a puppy in her hands for Tiberius's blessing. Another held a piglet. And one, right at the very back of the crowd, held up a honking goose. Frustrated, I decided that the Emperor was as unknowable as ever.
When we reached our destination for the day, I realised why Tiberius had been engorged — at least until his mood had changed. It was from anticipation. Circe's Enchantments, while running plenty of whores to keep the rabble happy, also provided rarer gems, girls and boys of breathtaking beauty, who were kept in reserve for the best clients. No client was better than Tiberius; for many years, he'd had his pick of them. And so, to provide the Emperor with some holiday amusement, Circe's had set up temporary shop in a unique country villa known as the Cave. This house was built into a cliff-face, and its celebrated banquet room, a magnificent cavern, gave the villa its name.
My reaction upon entering this establishment was not apprehension at finding myself in a vast hole in the ground; instead, I was mortified by Lena telling all and sundry that she had remembered to pack the girl who most enjoyed being pleasured by me. The other slaves found this riotous, and I blushed furiously.
Tiberius made his way quickly through the Cave's warren of rooms, and so determined was his progress that Sejanus lost sight of him. Looking faintly perturbed, the Praetorian Prefect went in pursuit of the Emperor, while we slaves were left to amuse ourselves as we liked. Lena made it clear that none of us were getting free rides. Behind patchwork curtains expectant whores waited, and Lena read out the day's 'specials', which were pinned to each curtain.
Just as I was steeling myself to duck off with my favourite, I heard the deep, guttural groan of the
