Silia's knuckles were white around her wine cup, and I suspect she was within a hair's-breadth of throwing the contents into Tigellinus's face; but just then, luckily, old Aelius Tubero the high priest of Jupiter arrived and the marriage ceremony began.
Silia and I went home right after we'd thrown the nuts and the happy couple had gone off to enjoy their first night of properly-wedded bliss. In the safety of our litter we talked about what Tigellinus had said. Silia was upset: she knew Octavia through Junia Calvina, and although they weren't exactly friends they had a certain amount of respect for each other.
'I don't like it, Titus,' she said. 'I don't like it at all. That worm's up to something.'
'Do you mean Tigellinus or the emperor?'
'Does it matter? They're both the same anyway, nowadays.'
'You can add Poppaea, dear. She's pulling the strings. The whole thing's a total fabrication, obviously.'
'Obviously.' Silia sighed. 'Titus, that poor woman! They can't do this to her.'
'They can. They will.'
'But it's so unfair! She's never so much as looked at another man! Isn't divorce enough?'
'Not for Poppaea. She wants Octavia exiled or dead.' I stared out of the litter's uncovered window. The Palatine wasn't by any means the busiest part of Rome, but there were a few people — mostly party-goers — in the late-evening street. 'It may not work, even so. It isn't plausible enough, and Octavia's much too popular just to be got rid of. Especially by the likes of Poppaea.'
'Do you think that'll stop them? Really?'
I didn't answer, which was an answer in itself. Probably it wouldn't. Lucius might worry about his own popularity, but most Romans — high or low — were realists. Also with Poppaea and Tigellinus in league against him poor Lucius didn't stand a chance.
'Who's the man, do you think?' Silia said after a while.
Suddenly I felt tired, bone-tired.
'Jupiter knows. Who's unpopular currently? With Tigellinus and the emperor, I mean?'
'Most of the Senate, darling.'
'Even Tigellinus and Poppaea can't accuse Octavia of sleeping with most of the Senate. And Tigellinus mentioned one man.'
'Thrasea?' It was a good suggestion, and worrying enough. Thrasea Paetus had been a thorn in Lucius's side for years, largely because he gave the lie to the belief that all senators are hypocrites. Thrasea was his own man, and an honourable one at that; which was another thing about him Lucius disliked. Pretended goodness he understood and despised; the real article made him nervous. And when Lucius was nervous he was at his most dangerous.
'Possibly,' I said.
'I'm only glad Junia's brother and nephew are safe. They'd be prime candidates, and the shock would kill the poor girl.'
I nodded. Silia was right, I could see how Tigellinus could persuade Lucius to get rid of these two. Silanus and Torquatus, like Junia herself, had imperial blood in their veins, and they were the last of the family. However, Silanus was in Asia at present and Torquatus was only fourteen. Not even Lucius could cite them as the guilty parties, if he had any concern at all for credibility.
In fact it was none of these people. Tigellinus hadn't been joking; the man eventually accused of seducing Octavia was one of the most unlikely in Rome.
35
A few days later, however, having evidently reconsidered the wisdom of implicating a public figure, Lucius and his new advisers had Octavia accused of adultery with one of her own slaves. Even so, they had underestimated the Roman mob, who unlike our pusillanimous Senate had no hesitation at all in expressing their disapproval, and gleefully treated us to six days of street riots. Poppaea was terrified; not so much of the mob itself but that Lucius, being the complete coward he was, might give in and dismiss the charge.
There were problems, too, with proof. Even under torture most of Octavia's slaves refused to give the necessary evidence. In the end, Lucius suddenly announced that the real adulterer had confessed. The guilty party, he revealed to a bemused Senate and people, was Anicetus.
I was one of the few people who wasn't surprised. The notorious seducer had told me so himself when I'd bumped into him coming out of the palace the day before.
I hadn't seen Anicetus since Agrippina's murder. With his two-day stubble and general appearance (and odour) of having slept in his clothes for a month he looked even more ineffectual than ever.
'Petronius!' He grabbed my arm. 'Oh, thank the gods for a friendly face! You've got to believe me! I never touched her!'
The guards on the gate were sniggering, and I caught the tail-end of a ribald comment.
'No, darling,' I said. 'Of course you didn't. Now who exactly are we talking about?'
He was hopping from one foot to the other as if he had a full bladder and was ten miles from a latrine.
'Octavia, of course! Nero — '
I'd heard enough. I put my hand over his mouth and frog-marched the little Greek out of the gates past the now-rigid guards. Even soldiers — not the brightest intellects in the empire — know when to play deaf.
We found a quiet bit of wall and I let him go.
'Now, Anicetus,' I said. 'What's all this about?'
'I had to promise, you see.' He was shivering. 'Otherwise he'd've had me executed anyway. And Sardinia isn't so bad.'
'That's a matter of opinion, darling. Now control yourself and start from the beginning.'
He took a deep breath and let it out, filling the air round us with the sharp smell of wine and anchovies.
'You know I'm still Commander of the Fleet at Misenum?' he said.
'Of course.' Lord Serapis knew why; the poor radish couldn't've commanded a rowing boat.
'Well, a message came three days ago ordering me to Rome. I was surprised because I've hardly seen the emperor for years, not since…not since…' He bit his lip.
'Not since you killed his mother. Yes, I know.'
'It wasn't my fault! I didn't have any choice! You were there, you heard — '
I sighed. 'Anicetus, will you please get a grip on yourself, dear, and tell me what happened.'
'I'm sorry. I'm just…' He took another deep breath. 'I came straight here. Nero was quite friendly, really, he gave me a cup of wine and we chatted about this and that. Old times, you know? Then suddenly Poppaea said — '
'Poppaea was there?'
He looked at me as if I were the one who was being stupid. 'Oh, yes, of course. And Tigellinus. He's a dreadful man, Petronius, simply dreadful!'
'I know, dear. Go on. So Poppy said…?'
'She said, "Oh, get on with it!" and Nero said, "I hear you've been making love to my ex-wife." Only he didn't say "making love" he said — '
'Anicetus, please!' I was trying to keep my fingers from his throat.
'I'm sorry.' He swallowed. 'I'm sorry. It's just I can't…Anyway, I just gaped at him, naturally, because I'd never even met Octavia. Tigellinus laughed, the way he does, and said, "I'd admit it if I were you, sunshine. It'll save a lot of trouble in the long run."'
'Yes, it probably would.' Two senators passed, walking in the direction of the gate. They looked away when they saw us, and increased their speed. 'So the emperor made a deal with you.'
'Hardly a deal. He gave me a straight choice. Either I admit that Octavia seduced me to get at the fleet or he'd tell the Senate that we were both plotting treason and have me executed. Petronius, what could I do?'
'Nothing.' I looked at him. As an adulterer the poor dear was already a joke; to charge him with treason would've been utterly farcical. Lucius must be desperate. 'And he promised you a comfortable exile in exchange? In, the gods help us, Sardinia?'
'Sardinia's a nice place. In summer, anyway. And at least it's quiet, so I can get on with my writing.'