Nero

'I bow to your superior knowledge of the world, darling.' I was thinking rapidly. Power as such — apart from the power to disrupt, which he already had — didn't interest Tigellinus. He'd bed Poppaea willingly enough if she made him the offer, but if he did it would be with no other motive than pleasure in the act itself. Poppaea was another matter. She was desperate to become empress; which meant, of course, getting rid of Lucius's virtually estranged wife Octavia. So far Lucius had refused, because Octavia was as popular as Poppaea was disliked, and a remarriage would serve no purpose. If she could persuade Tigellinus to help her, then…

'Titus, what do you think?'

'Mmm?'

Silia was holding two necklaces up for my inspection. 'Oh, come on, darling! Please! We really must be going, and this is important. The pearls or the rubies?'

'The pearls,' I said.

Her nose wrinkled. 'Not the rubies?'

'The pearls, darling. Quite definitely the pearls.'

'Very well.' She replaced the ruby necklace in her jewel-case. 'I wish I hadn't mentioned that dratted girl, you'll be dreadful all evening. Now do stop moping and tell Simon to fetch the litter.'

Both Tigellinus and Poppaea were at the party. They sat apart, and didn't seem especially interested in each other as far as I could see; but that proved nothing.

32

It came as no surprise to anyone when, a short time later, Tigellinus's co-Commander of Praetorians was relieved of his post. The excuse, that he'd been friendly with Agrippina, was farcicaclass="underline" Lucius's mother had been dead long before the appointment was made. There was no replacement.

Lucius was quite open about Rufus’s dismissal, to me at least: 'Why should I bother to invent anything decent, Titus?' he said. 'Nobody'd believe the doddering old fool was capable of any real wickedness. If he had been I might not have had to sack him. And anyway, darling, those bum-suckers in the Senate wouldn't dare say boo whatever reason I gave them.'

Both observations were true enough; what was chilling was that Lucius was able to make them. His third comment — almost thrown away — was even more ominous: 'Now Tiggy can really begin to enjoy himself.'

Tiggy did so, with two political assassinations. His first victim was Faustus Sulla, the aristocratic husband of Octavia's sister Claudia, exiled four years before. The murderers walked into Sulla's house in Marseilles, stabbed him and, in line with their instructions, brought the head back to Rome. ('Tiggy thought we'd be as well to kill him,' Lucius told me later. 'And it was a mercy, really. He was going terribly grey, poor dear.')

The second was Rubellius Plautus. Plautus was another relative who had been exiled following the appearance of a comet. Comets, notoriously, announce the deaths of rulers, and Lucius had sensibly suggested that his distant cousin make himself even more distant by withdrawing to his Asian estates before anyone got any bright ideas. His head, too, had been brought back, pickled this time in vinegar. ('Hasn't he got a long nose, Titus?' — pulling the head from its jar by the hair and showing me it — 'Tiggy saidhe was dangerous, but I'm not so sure. Not with a nose like that. Still, best to be safe than sorry, eh?' I had thrown up all over my best mantle. Lucius only laughed.)

What could I do? What could anyone do? After the incident of the pickle-jar I went home and wept. Yes, I was sorry for Sulla and Plautus, and I was sorry for Rome; but I was even more sorry for Lucius, because I honestly believed and still believe that to him the killings were no more than stage deaths and the heads only papier-mâché props. If anyone was to blame for them and for the others that followed it was Tigellinus, who had shown the poor lad what marvellous, innocent fun it was to kill, and our upright band of venerable senators, who not only expelled the murdered men from their ranks but voted us a day of national thanksgiving into the bargain.

Do I sound bitter? Do you detect an unaccustomed seriousness here, my dear reader, that conflicts with Petronius's story so far? I am, and you do. I can't help myself.

Draw a line across the page here, Dion. No, don't ask why, boy. Just do it, please.

33

A month or so after the murders, Arruntius having to go off on one of his official tours, I'd arranged to take Silia away for a few days to Tibur, where an old friend had a villa. When I called to collect her she was sitting by the ornamental pool with her friend Junia Calvina.

'You're not ready, are you, darling?' I said. It hadn't needed genius to make that deduction; there had been no sign in the hall of the huge quantities of luggage Silia found necessary for even a night away from home.

'Titus!' She looked up and put a hand to her mouth. 'Oh, goodness, is that the time? I'm sorry, dear, but Junia came round with the news and we got chatting. I am all packed, though, really. It's just that the slaves haven't carried the stuff through.'

'What news?'

'About the divorce, of course.' Junia's plump face was grave.

'Whose divorce?' I pulled a chair across. Whatever Silia said, I knew we wouldn't be leaving for some time.

'The emperor's. He's divorcing Octavia.'

I sat down heavily. 'No!'

Junia nodded. 'The announcement's being made this morning.'

'Why? What possible reason can he give?'

'The official reason's barrenness, but of course that's a nonsense. Nero's never…' She blushed and started again. 'Octavia's still…' The blush spread until the poor girl looked like a beetroot. 'I mean, well, it's wrong, Titus. Totally impossible. I know.'

I remembered what Acte had said years ago about the marriage never having been consummated; and also that Junia Calvina was one of Octavia's very few close friends.

'You two talk while I get ready,' Silia said. 'I won't be long, dear.'

I watched her hurry off upstairs, frowning. Nothing to do with her lateness, I'd planned for that and we weren't meeting the carriage until noon. It was much more serious. I'd talked with Lucius several times over the past few days and he hadn't so much as hinted about a divorce.

'Octavia's horribly upset,' Junia was saying. 'She's dreaded this for years, and she's been so terribly careful you wouldn't believe!'

'You've seen her?'

'I was round early this morning. It's all Poppaea's doing, of course. Her and that beast Tigellinus. You know they've been…getting together recently?'

'So I've heard.'

'Do you think the emperor knows?'

I'd wondered about that one myself. Not that Lucius would necessarily care, even if it were true.

'I doubt it.'

'But it's so unfair!' Junia's face twisted with anger. 'Poppaea really is such a bitch, Titus! Goodness knows what Nero sees in her!'

'He sees his mother, darling,' I said.

She gave me a startled look: Junia always had been naïve, very much like Octavia herself, which was why they were so close.

'Do you think so?’ she said. ‘The empress? But that's dreadful!'

'Lucius has never really loved anyone else, dear. If there's one thing the poor darling can't understand or abide it's innocence.'

'So he'll persecute Octavia for nothing while he'll let Poppaea get away with murder! What kind of…' She stopped, her eyes wide. 'Oh, Titus!'

I had a cold feeling in my own stomach. 'Octavia's quite safe, believe me. She's one of the imperial family, and she's far too popular for Lucius to risk harming.'

'You're sure?'

'Of course I am. Now sit down like a good girl.' She did, and began chewing her fingernails. 'Besides, Lucius isn't…' It was my turn to stop; I'd been about to say, Lucius isn't a killer. 'Lucius isn't interested in anything but marriage with Poppaea.'