suspect your allegiance. So, come and see me tomorrow morning before you leave. I’ll give you the letter to the Emperor and something else.’
She brushed by me and was gone. The door opened and the Praetorian officer stepped through. He took me by the elbow and pushed me up the steps, along to the servants’ quarters, a refectory with trestle tables and stools. The Praetorian introduced me and turned to where a greasy-handed cook stood at the end of the kitchen.
‘He’s got loose bowels,’ he sneered. ‘Either that or he’s so frightened he almost crapped himself. Give him something light to eat.’
He joined in the general laughter and left, satisfied that he could explain the slight delay in bringing me from Sejanus’s chamber to this refectory, where possibly every man, woman and child was in Sejanus’s pay. I ate some highly spiced stew and rye bread. I remember the meal well: I found it so difficult to eat, my hands kept shaking from fear and elation. I felt as if I had been put through a fire but come through unscathed.
A sleepless, restless night followed. In my dreams the ghouls clustered in. I was walking through Rome but every street and lane flowed with blood. Sightless eyes in severed heads perched on pikes gazed beseechingly at me, their lips still moving, spurting out blood as well as guttural sounds. I woke in a sweat, took some wine and returned to a more peaceful sleep. I once discussed such nightmares with Domina. She winked and nipped my cheek.
‘It proves you have a conscience, Parmenon,’ she mocked.
‘Don’t you dream, Domina?’
‘I sleep like a baby,’ she replied.
The next morning she certainly looked unruffled and unperturbed, when a servant took me up to her quarters. The room where Metellus had died was now cleaned and cleared. Servant girls thronged about, so I had to be prudent: most of them, if not all, were in Sejanus’s pay. Agrippina played her part to perfection. She led me over to a window recess and took a small scroll from beneath the shawl round her shoulders. She glanced down into the courtyard.
‘Your escort is waiting. Give this to my brother Gaius and no other. Tell him his sister loves him.’ She moved so her back was to the rest of the room. ‘Tell him,’ she continued slowly, ‘to play the man and act the part. Remind him of the herbarium I sent him. He is to study it closely for the source of his deliverance is in Capri.’
She turned as if to walk away but came back.
‘Oh, and tell the Emperor that Sejanus wants to become Drusus: that’s why Drusus has gone away.’
I stared perplexed. Drusus, her brother, was in a dark hole beneath the Palatine. She blew me a kiss and walked over to one of the servant girls, shouting for water and napkins and the clearest mirror they could find. I went down to the yard. The Minion was waiting, with a small cohort of troops and one of those huge four-wheeled carts to carry our baggage and other supplies for the Emperor in Capri.
‘You are ready, kinsman?’ the Minion mocked.
He looked me over from head to toe. I was dressed in a dark-green tunic and a rather threadbare cloak I had bought in the market place. He threw me a clinking purse.
‘When you return to Rome you really must visit my tailor.’
I caught the clinking bag, and saw that his hand was still outstretched. I gave him Agrippina’s letter, he broke the seal and studied it carefully.
‘Nothing treasonable,’ he sighed. ‘More’s the pity. Here!’ He tossed it to a servant. ‘Take that to His Excellency!’ He gestured at me. ‘Come on! Ostia awaits!’
I was given a sorry nag to ride. We left the Palatine by side gates and made our way through the narrow, stinking streets towards the gate to Ostia. It was late March. The sun was beginning to strengthen but really the seasons made little difference in Rome. It was always busy with merchants’ carts, pedlars’ barrows, the cookshops and wine stalls, the jostle and bustle of an
She brushed by me and was gone. The door opened and the Praetorian officer stepped through. He took me by the elbow and pushed me up the steps, along to the servants’ quarters, a refectory with trestle tables and stools. The Praetorian introduced me and turned to where a greasy-handed cook stood at the end of the kitchen.
‘He’s got loose bowels,’ he sneered. ‘Either that or he’s so frightened he almost crapped himself. Give him something light to eat.’
He joined in the general laughter and left, satisfied that he could explain the slight delay in bringing me from Sejanus’s chamber to this refectory, where possibly every man, woman and child was in Sejanus’s pay. I ate some highly spiced stew and rye bread. I remember the meal well: I found it so difficult to eat, my hands kept shaking from fear and elation. I felt as if I had been put through a fire but come through unscathed.
A sleepless, restless night followed. In my dreams the ghouls clustered in. I was walking through Rome but every street and lane flowed with blood. Sightless eyes in severed heads perched on pikes gazed beseechingly at me, their lips still moving, spurting out blood as well as guttural sounds. I woke in a sweat, took some wine and returned to a more peaceful sleep. I once discussed such nightmares with Domina. She winked and nipped my cheek.
‘It proves you have a conscience, Parmenon,’ she mocked.
‘Don’t you dream, Domina?’
‘I sleep like a baby,’ she replied.
The next morning she certainly looked unruffled and unperturbed, when a servant took me up to her quarters. The room where Metellus had died was now cleaned and cleared. Servant girls thronged about, so I had to be prudent: most of them, if not all, were in Sejanus’s pay. Agrippina played her part to perfection. She led me over to a window recess and took a small scroll from beneath the shawl round her shoulders. She glanced down into the courtyard.
‘Your escort is waiting. Give this to my brother Gaius and no other. Tell him his sister loves him.’ She moved so her back was to the rest of the room. ‘Tell him,’ she continued slowly, ‘to play the man and act the part. Remind him of the herbarium I sent him. He is to study it closely for the source of his deliverance is in Capri.’
She turned as if to walk away but came back.
‘Oh, and tell the Emperor that Sejanus wants to become Drusus: that’s why Drusus has gone away.’
I stared perplexed. Drusus, her brother, was in a dark hole beneath the Palatine. She blew me a kiss and walked over to one of the servant girls, shouting for water and napkins and the clearest mirror they could find. I went down to the yard. The Minion was waiting, with a small cohort of troops and one of those huge four-wheeled carts to carry our baggage and other supplies for the Emperor in Capri.
‘You are ready, kinsman?’ the Minion mocked.
He looked me over from head to toe. I was dressed in a dark-green tunic and a rather threadbare cloak I had bought in the market place. He threw me a clinking purse.
‘When you return to Rome you really must visit my tailor.’
I caught the clinking bag, and saw that his hand was still outstretched. I gave him Agrippina’s letter, he broke the seal and studied it carefully.
‘Nothing treasonable,’ he sighed. ‘More’s the pity. Here!’ He tossed it to a servant. ‘Take that to His Excellency!’ He gestured at me. ‘Come on! Ostia awaits!’
I was given a sorry nag to ride. We left the Palatine by side gates and made our way through the narrow, stinking streets towards the gate to Ostia. It was late March. The sun was beginning to strengthen but really the seasons made little difference in Rome. It was always busy with merchants’ carts, pedlars’ barrows, the cookshops and wine stalls, the jostle and bustle of an
Similar Books
