Nest of Vipers (5 page)

With a flick of his wrist Hector sent the grape towards the ceiling, and it seemed, to me and Little Boots, who continued to watch without participating, that time and motion slowed as the little ball of skin and juice and pips achieved its zenith in the fug of incense smoke and soot from the oil lamps. Then it began its descent. I knew what would happen next as if I'd always known, but of course I hadn't. I just experienced that flash of certainty, that confirmation of another's fate that comes with being divine.

Hector caught the grape in his mouth with a plop. Watching sprawled on the floor, Claudius burst into applause. 'Well caught, Hector!'

It was only when Sejanus mirrored the praise that Hector gave a proud little smile, but it was short-lived. A look of consternation crossed his face and he opened his mouth to say something, but no words came. His hands flew under his chin and his eyes went wide. He coughed – a terrible rasp, like a carpenter's file being dragged across a plank. He fell to his knees.

His little bride, Aelia, cried out, 'It's caught in his throat!'

Claudius tried to struggle to his feet but Sejanus reached the boy first, leaping from his dining couch, as Apicata stared after him in blind bewilderment. Hector's eyes were like glass. The grape was lodged in his windpipe.

'Thump him! Thump him!' Claudius stammered, helpless in the mush.

Sejanus threw the boy face-down and hooked an arm under his waist, raising Hector's rump in the air as if to violate him. Then he slammed the heel of his palm between Hector's shoulderblades. 'Breathe!' Sejanus shouted at him. 'Breathe!' He banged the boy's back like a drum, clenching his hand into a fist, punching him, pounding him. Hector's head danced and jerked. The spit dribbled from his lips, slick and frothy on the marble. Sejanus willed the boy not to choke; too much depended on him, far too much.

Then the grape spat free.

'Thank the gods! Thank the gods!' cried Claudius. Unable to find traction for his feet, Hector's crippled father slid across the floor like an engorged serpent, embracing Hector where he lay, kissing the cheek that was still too young for razors or pimples. 'It's all right now,' Claudius whispered to him. 'You're all right now, no harm done. Sejanus saved you.'

He raised the boy up and Hector's head lolled at an obscene angle, swinging like a lead weight on the end of a string. His neck had snapped.

Claudius's frenzied sobbing at last brought the Emperor from his daze. The draught of an Eastern flower he consumed in secret shrouded Tiberius's mind like a mist. But it parted just enough to let him take in the scene.

'Is the boy an acrobat?' he asked Sejanus, puzzled, and noting the strange contortion to Hector's body.

When her efforts at comforting her shattered daughter Aelia made no impact, blind Apicata abandoned the sobbing girl to a wet nurse. There was nothing to be done and, truth be told, Apicata was not devastated by the calamity. She regarded the crippled Claudius in a poor light. Indeed, she viewed the entire Imperial house as something obscene, for all its glamour. Although she hadn't said so at the original betrothal announcement, Apicata had felt little pride in the prospect of joining her family with Rome's rulers. She despised them. Yet that didn't preclude her from wanting to be them. And in order to be them, Apicata felt it necessary to study them.

When Sejanus's devotion to Tiberius had required his family to leave their own house and reside inside Oxheads, the Imperial residence, Apicata had enjoyed wandering the palace corridors at night. Her own ease in darkness gave her an advantage she didn't have in the daylight. She was rarely observed, and when she was, she was merely ignored.

With her daughter sobbing in the wet nurse's bosom, Apicata felt her way along the walls of the palace corridors until she reached the suite of my comatose
domina
, Livia Drusilla. Livia's state of perpetual sleep was now so well known inside Oxheads – if not yet outside in Rome – that she no longer had guards. Livia's son, the Emperor Tiberius, couldn't conceive of anyone wishing to harm his mother – she was already near dead. Blind Apicata slipped into my
domina
's sleeping chamber quite easily.

Once inside, she listened to the air being drawn into Livia's lungs – a movement so slight you could rest a feather on her lips. Apicata placed her hands on my
domina
's form, caressing her flesh. Livia was soft and warm. She laid her fingers on Livia's head and pulled the hairs at her temple, feeling the skin stretching from the skull. This was a girlish torture intended to make any victim wince. But when no reaction came, Apicata fumbled for the skin at my
domina
's throat, taking a handful of it in her sharp-nailed fingers and crushing it like a square of silk. If she'd had her sight she would have seen the bruise this caused. But still there was no reaction from the sleeper, nor would there have been if Apicata had taken a knife to my
domina
's wrists and hacked off her hands. Livia was now upon this earth in body only. In spirit she was elsewhere, sent there in secret by me, who loved her most.

'So long asleep . . .' Apicata whispered.

'She fascinates you, doesn't she?' I said from the door.

Apicata stood upright. She hadn't heard me enter – a rare lapse for her.

'Don't be frightened,' I said, approaching. 'I am only a slave.'

But Apicata wasn't frightened. She studied me intensely, as if her eyes still saw light. 'I know who you are,' she said. 'You're Livia's creature – the one who doesn't age.'

I was flattered, being then over seventy years old. Most people at Oxheads believed me to be no more than forty at that time.

'Livia was ageless too,' said Apicata, 'but the skin at her throat is like a soft leather bag. Has age caught up with her, creature?'

'It has,' I confirmed, but I didn't tell her that the years would melt away again if I allowed my
domina
to wake up. 'What fascinates you so much about her, Lady?'

'It's repulsion, not fascination.' Apicata made to leave but I prevented her. She gasped at my daring to touch her.

'I've seen you in here before,' I said. 'Of course it's fascination. I've observed you stroking my
domina
and smelling her flesh. I even saw you place your hand between her thighs.'

Apicata drew breath, saying nothing.

'I told you not to be frightened, and I meant it,' I said. 'I am fascinated too – by you, Lady.'

I could tell that Sejanus's blind wife was considering whether to scream for a guard, but I knew she wouldn't.

'How did this happen, then?' she said to me at last. 'This strange state she exists in. She's neither dead nor alive, but she's breathing. How did it happen to her?'

The answer was simple. I had achieved the thing I had longed for since I had gazed upon my
domina
for the very first time, six decades before – I had entered Livia's sex and taken her forcefully. But with my useless eunuch's prick I'd had to employ a phallus, and the poison I smeared on the thing had reduced Livia to this state. But I told Apicata nothing of that. Nor did I tell her
why
I had done it, which was somewhat more complicated. 'It is a mystery,' was all I said.

Of course, this was not enough for Apicata. 'Is someone scheming against her?' she asked. 'Is this some plot, creature?'

I shrugged, then remembering she couldn't see I repeated that I was only a slave – how should I know? 'Rome is full of so many intrigues, Lady.'

Apicata again made to leave, and this time I stood aside, although I suspected she had more to say. I was right. 'My husband used to pleasure your
domina
, did you know that, creature?'

'I did know,' I told her, although I had only learned of it at the very end of their illicit liaison. 'She took joy in his attentions – she praised the girth of him,' I added, conjecturing. I wanted to see what game Apicata was playing with me.

But she merely nodded. 'He pleasured her with my encouragement. The Augusta Livia was lonely – a sad state for such a great lady. I saw it as a civic service to make her feel loved again.'

I wanted to laugh. Livia had intended to kill Sejanus during their final encounter, and Apicata certainly hadn't been privy to that. But my own plans had diverged from Livia's by then and I couldn't allow her to do it. I needed Sejanus alive, so Livia took the poison in his place.

'Sejanus was very shocked when this happened to her,' said Apicata. 'It upset him.'

'My
domina
will wake again one day,' I lied, 'and perhaps when she does she will find things changed – and changed in a way that pleases her. And perhaps she will remember her pleasures again, too, and the friends who think fondly of her still.'

Apicata said nothing for a moment and I feared I'd been too oblique. I wanted her to think of us as allies, not enemies.

'It is nice to have friends,' she said at last, then she felt her way to the door and left me.

I stared after Apicata for a few moments, letting my eyes lose focus while I gathered my thoughts. Then a figure crept into my peripheral vision, startling me. It was my young master, Little Boots.

'You should be in bed,
domine
,' I admonished him.

'But the blind woman creeps around the halls and wakes me up,' he said.

'How could she wake you up when you're supposed to be sleeping inside your mother's house?'

'I still heard her.'

Lies, of course. Little Boots had stolen out of bed purely to see me, using the slaves' tunnels that linked the Imperial family's various houses. I indulged him and patted a chair for him to sit upon. Little Boots did so, pulling his knees up to his chin, while I set about preparing my
domina
for the night.

'So, did you hear my talk with the Prefect's wife?' I asked as I rubbed a salve on the bruise Apicata had left at my
domina
's throat.

He had heard every word, the monkey. 'The choking has upset Sejanus,' he said, matter-of-factly. If Little Boots had shed any tears for his hapless cousin Hector, he was over them now. 'What do you think Sejanus will do? It must have wrecked his plans.'

I answered that it must have wrecked them badly, even though neither of us knew what Sejanus's plans were. All we knew for certain was that Sejanus had so far caused the death of Little Boots's father, Germanicus, who was the Emperor's nephew and adopted son. This secret murder, which had so devastated Little Boots's mother, older brothers and younger sisters, had left Little Boots himself far from grieved. He had loved his father, but he loved the idea of his father being dead even more. It was because of the prophecies, about which I shall speak more in time.

'It is my guess,' I pondered, 'that because Sejanus has seen that your father's murder will never be traced back to him, he'll only grow bolder in his wickedness.'

'Yes,' said Little Boots, nodding – very sagely for his eight years.

'And with his hopes ruined to marry his daughter into your family, he'll have anger and humiliation in his heart.'

'That's good then, isn't it?' said Little Boots, his eyes shining at the thought.

'Well, yes,' I had to agree. 'Good for what you and I must achieve with even greater secrecy than Sejanus,
domine
,' I added.

He dismissed my caution. 'I want to be the second prophesied king
right now
, Iphicles. I'm sick of waiting. There are things I want to
do
to Rome.'

'You're too young right now. You don't know enough yet.'

'There have been kings in Egypt younger than me.'

'And they were murdered for it.'

That quietened him for a moment. Then his eyes were shining again. 'Who's going to be murdered next in Rome? My big brothers, do you think? Nero next? Or Drusus?'

'It's a terrible thing to hear you hope for their deaths so casually,' I said.

He was incredulous, pointing an accusing finger at my sleeping
domina
. 'You helped
her
kill more people than I can count on my hands – and all just to put my grandfather Tiberius on the throne.'

'Be quiet,' I hissed. 'Your grandfather was prophesied, too.'

'He's not much of a king.'

'Little Boots!'

He was unrepentant. 'I bet you talked about your murders all the time – especially with that hunchback witch who used to mix up all the poisons.'

'Quieten down. You only know these dreadful things because I told you when I was ill and raving,
domine
.'

'I nursed you back to health.'

'Yes, yes, and I'm very grateful.'

'That was when you told me I was a god – and that you were one too.'

Not for the first time, I regretted how much I had told Little Boots in my illness. 'My divine state is no business of yours.'

'
My
divine state is. The old soothsayer said I was divine too. I was there when he said it, remember?'

I threw my
domina
's ointment down and stalked across the room to grip him hard by the shoulders, shaking him. 'Now, listen. Perhaps you will be divine but you are not divine yet – you are only a boy, and not a very nice boy either, and certainly not a boy who is worthy of a throne.'

He stared in shock at me.

'You will wear the crown that was meant for your murdered father – it was prophesied – but your father was loved by all of Rome. It breaks my heart that he was not the chosen one – he deserved to rule – and it certainly broke my
domina
's heart. Your father would have been a good and honest king, but it was not to be and that's all there is to it. So . . .' I stared hard at him. 'Will
you
be loved, Little Boots?'

He went to answer but I shook him again. 'Not if you carry on like this, you won't. You must look in your heart,
domine
, and think hard on how the people will love you. Nothing is guaranteed. If you gain the throne tomorrow, you'd still be "the prophesied" but you wouldn't last a minute. Not one minute.'

I released him and he was silent for a long time. 'I'm sorry,' he said at last. 'You are right, Iphicles.'

It was a concession from him – not something I received very often. Affection overcame me and I hugged him. 'You'll be a glorious king one day, Little Boots,' I whispered. 'Just let your loving Iphicles help you
become
it.'