'Well, I… Yes.'
The look that passed between my domina and Lygdus was one of the deepest disgust. Lygdus came behind me and delivered two hard kicks to the backs of my knees. I fell forward with a shout.
'Better,' said Livia. Her fist was curled around a dozen sheets of papyrus. She flung them at my upturned face. 'Now eat them.'
I must have looked laughable in my confusion because Lygdus burst into giggles.
'Eat them,' said Livia.
'The papyrus sheets, domina?'
She thrust her face into mine. 'Filthy accusations about Nero, my grandson, and written in your hand. Eat them, slave. Then shit them into a sewer and flush them far from Rome.'
I began to tear up the first piece of papyrus, stuffing it into my mouth.
'When will he learn, domina?' Lygdus shook his head sadly.
'When my grandson Nero is the second king,' Livia said.
They remained until I had chewed and swallowed the last sheet. Then Lygdus was posted to ensure I didn't vomit them. He wouldn't speak or look at me.
Livia was playing an elaborate game, I knew. She was playing a game with all of us. She had devised the rules and twists and countermoves throughout her years of paralysis. She had polished and perfected what she would do to the most finite degree. And now that she was free of me again, she was playing her game with the whole of Rome. She would not kill me for what I had done to her. She would let me suffer her vindictive tortures, because she wanted me to see her award the prize at the game's end.
Moaning on the floor with Lygdus pressing his hand to my lips to stop me heaving up the sheets, I knew what Livia's prize was.
But I could not guess who would win it.
The two of them fled.
Burrus took Nilla's hand in his and dragged her from the terrace and into the moonlit garden even before Julilla's screaming had stopped and Little Boots had ceased his manic laughter. He dragged Nilla through the flowers with the sounds of Drusilla's sobbing still in his ears, and when the beds became hedges and the shrubs became trees, he dragged her through the undergrowth and would not let her stop to catch her breath even when she struck him in her hysteria and tried to bite his hand.
The garden became a wood, and still Burrus dragged her along by the hand, lost and directionless, until they came upon a path. There he held her by the shoulders as she wept and shook. When she began to retch, he turned away, but still he held her by the ankle as she sank to the ground, choking in the leaves. Burrus would not let her return to that place of obscenity. He would not let her go back for her sisters. He would not let her pleas break his heart. All that mattered was that she was spared, she whom he loved more than life.
'Julilla!' she sobbed into the leaves.
He kept his heart hard.
The sounds of crashing undergrowth made him pull Nilla to her feet again. They were being pursued. They heard the laughter and the taunts, and Nilla's name being called. They said she was their lover. They said Burrus's life was worthless for daring to take her away.
'Don't listen,' Burrus hissed.
'Leave me,' Nilla begged him. 'Just leave me here. I'll give them what they want. They'll forget about you then. You can hide yourself and get back to the boat. You can make it to Rome. You can tell people what's happening here.'
'Not without you.'
'Do it, Burrus.'
'No. I love you.'
The taunts and laughter came from all around them. Voices behind, more voices in front. Burrus took a sharp turn through a grove of trees. They leaped across logs and under boughs. Nilla landed badly and felt the muscles in her calf tear. She cried out with pain. 'Just leave me,' she begged him again.
Burrus refused. Then the voices ceased. The grove of trees fell silent. In the pale glow of the moon they could see each other's fear-streaked faces. Their clothes were torn, their limbs were scratched raw by the bushes. They had lost their shoes. Their feet oozed blood in the grass. When their breathing stilled, they realised they could see their surrounds. They peered into the trees. There was no one else with them. They were alone.
'Were they ghosts?' Nilla whispered.
Burrus stared into the shadows. 'Your brother is not a ghost.'
'What if he's really dead? What if they're all dead here? What if this is hell?'
'This is the Emperor's own island,' said Burrus. 'If it's hell, then it's a hell made to torment the living.'
'We can reach the boat again,' said Nilla. 'They've lost interest in us. If we move like serpents and don't make a sound, we'll escape this place and come back with men to save my sisters.'
He nodded. But when Burrus took his first step outside the grove, they knew they were deceived. The carpet of leaves hid a net, which sprang up and around him, hoisting him high in the trees. He thrashed and kicked but the net held tight. The pursuers showed themselves, the beasts who were the children of traitors. They were unclothed. Nilla tried to flee in the hope they would follow her but their hands held her fast, a dozen hands it seemed at first, until they fell away and two hands remained, gripping her tight by the arms. They were the hands of the unclothed Emperor. His nakedness was before her.
'Look what happens,' said Tiberius. His eyes were huge in the moonlight, shining like glass. He did not blink. 'Look what happens to him now.'
The naked boys thrust spears at Burrus in the net. The tips nicked his flesh, drawing fine red trickles of blood.
'Aren't the boys clever?' said Tiberius. 'They never kill unless I order it.'
The blood dripped upon her face like the start of an autumn shower.
'Does it hurt him, do you think?' Tiberius wondered.
Nilla's senses left her. Although she screamed, she could not hear it. Although she saw, the image was lost. The Emperor's hands stayed firm upon her arms and she was led away without knowing where she went or caring what befell her when she got there.
'How old are you, child?'
'Twelve, Grandfather.'
'And Julilla?'
'She is nine.'
'That's much too young.'
She stumbled and fell but the Emperor didn't notice. His fist gripped her arm, now pulling her like a straw doll.
'How old is Drusilla?'
'She is eleven.'
'She's far too young as well, if we are to be seemly about it.'
'Yes, Grandfather.'
'If you are twelve, then it really must be you, Nilla. There's no one else.'
Her feet made furrows in the earth behind her. She had no will to resist him as he pulled her like a plow. The leaves and twigs beneath her became flowers. They had arrived in his garden again. 'Here we are,' said Tiberius. He released his hold and Nilla slumped upon her face, tasting the soil.
'Everything will be arranged,' said Tiberius. 'We have been looking forward to it. Sometimes the days get dull. We need novelty and lightness of heart to inspire us, and this will be perfect. Tomorrow I will write a letter to your mother, informing her of it all. What a thing to bring everyone together. And he's really very keen. We've been discussing it at great length, you know.'
Nilla couldn't lift her head. The soil felt comforting beneath her cheek and she wondered if she was not on Capri at all but at home in her bed. 'Who is he, Grandfather?'
'Have I not made things clear to you, Nilla?'
'No, Grandfather.'
'He is the one who will kiss you forever.'
