Nest of Vipers

'It's a symbol,' said Little Boots. 'What he was asking was that the Senate joins him in protecting them. He fears assassins.'

His sisters were quiet.

'I think it's nonsense, of course,' said Little Boots. 'Who'd want to kill Nero and Drusus? Rome loves our brothers.'

I felt uneasy, reminded once again that Little Boots was still only a boy, prophecies or not. He was treading a dangerous line — in part, I suspected, simply to show off. But I wasn't sure at whom he was aiming it. When I lifted my eyes from the floor for a second, I realised he was staring directly at Lygdus.

'Somebody killed Father,' said Nilla, 'and Father was loved by Rome too.' Nilla had been missing at the time of their father's death, and so her grief for Germanicus was still rawer than that of the other children.

'That was Piso and Plancina,' Little Boots reminded her.

'I don't see why they murdered Father,' said Nilla. 'It doesn't make sense.'

'Jealousy,' said Little Boots. 'Piso was jealous. I was there, remember? I saw it for myself in Athens and Antioch.'

Nilla's eyes held a look of great seriousness. She had given her father's death a great deal of thought. 'I believe that Piso's jealousy is a lie put out by our grandfather to cover a truth that is too distressing for Rome.'

Little Boots paled slightly. 'And what is the truth then?'

The younger girls had forgotten that he'd struck them now. They were held by this conversation.

'Our father was killed because he was in line for the throne.'

Little Boots wouldn't let himself pull away from his sister's eyes, although he felt an overwhelming urge to do so. 'Who would have done such a thing?'

'I thought Uncle Castor might have done it,' said Nilla, 'but that was before…'

Little Boots said nothing for several moments, and neither did anyone else. Finally he spoke. 'Nero and Drusus are in line for the throne now — that's really what it was all about in the Senate today.' He glanced across at me again.

'I had already worked that out,' Nilla said soberly, 'and so had Iphicles, I'm sure.'

Little Boots continued his meal in utter silence. Some of the other companion slaves, now very nervous, began making distracting music on the flutes they carried. Little Boots whistled along to the tunes before abruptly standing, his meal done.

'I feel like going to the baths.'

'Let me escort you, domine,' I said.

'Yes, I would like that.' But he moved to join me just as Lygdus was heaving his bulk upright. Little Boots's heel landed squarely on Lygdus's hand. He put his full weight upon it, unaware, he wanted us to believe, that he was standing on anything other than the floor. 'I should like to visit the markets, too. Bring coins with us, Iphicles.'

'Yes, domine,' I said.

He rocked back and forward on Lygdus's hand. 'And I think we shall visit a brothel. Perhaps that one you like so much in the Subura?'

'You have not yet received your toga virilis,' I reminded him. 'You are too young to visit such places.'

Lygdus gave a whine and Little Boots stopped, saying nothing. Then he deliberately pressed his boot heel into the eunuch's hand as hard as he could. 'I permit few people to tell me what I can and cannot do, Iphicles.'

'As should be so,' I murmured. 'You have the blood of the Divine Augustus in your veins.'

He lifted his foot from Lygdus's hand and the eunuch gave a tiny sob of relief. But before he could shift it, Little Boots stamped on him savagely again. 'I only allow my wisest friends to instruct me, because of the love they show.'

I bit back my anger. 'Your wisest friend's love is unwavering, domine.'

Little Boots smiled his cupid's smile and released Lygdus's hand. 'I have never doubted it.' He looked at Lygdus as if seeing him for the very first time. 'Why don't you accompany me to the baths instead, fat Lygdus? Iphicles can attend to the Augusta. It would be nice to have you with me at the baths. I feel as if we hardly know each other.'

Whatever it was that Lygdus felt at that moment, he hid it well. I felt proud of him. 'It will be an honour, domine,' he whispered.

'Yes, it will be,' said Little Boots.

Once he had left the room, I saw the confusion on the younger sisters' faces.

'What have you done to make him mad, fat Lygdus?' Julilla asked.

'It is a matter between Lygdus and your brother,' I said hastily, answering for him. In truth I had no idea at all of what had prompted Little Boots's treatment.

Nilla gave me a penetrating look. 'I think it is a matter between Lygdus and our brother and Iphicles,' she said. 'And perhaps one day we will learn exactly what it is all about?'

Unnerved by the child, I was lost for a reply.

The widow Livilla's first public appearance following Castor's death was an attempt to gauge Rome's reaction to her loss. She decided to journey to the Baths of Agrippa to see what sort of reception she might receive. She anticipated a bleak silence — which would not have been at all dismaying — and perhaps some weeping from the bath slaves. Livilla had little expectation of much beyond that, but it would still have pleased her.

She well remembered the public mourning that had dragged on for months and months for Germanicus, fanned by Agrippina's wails. Her sister-in-law's excessive grieving had made such a profound impact upon the city that a benchmark had been set for all widows. But Agrippina had been aided by a dead husband who had been adored by Rome, and Livilla knew that Castor had not been quite so revered. This had nothing to do with his character — he had been a kind-hearted and generous man — but he was impeded by his lack of high achievement. Everything Castor had done had been on a governmental level, away from the battlefield, with the sole aim of glorifying Tiberius. This meant he had never received credit where it was due to him. Livilla felt sad that his memory would soon dim, yet in truth her tears had long ceased flowing — if they had ever genuinely flowed at all. But Rome remained of the belief that the Lady Livilla was inconsolable.

The red-painted litter with the leather roof and feather-filled bed was new, a purchase Castor had made shortly before his death. The bearers that carried it were new too — paid freedmen, not slaves — and were dressed in bright-red tunicae with thick leather pads on their shoulders where they supported the poles. It was difficult for Livilla to suppress her sense of self-importance at being borne in such a fine transport. Hers was surely the best in Rome. But the progress she and Tiberia, her daughter, made down the Via Sacra — the Sacred Way — towards the Forum was slow. Travel through the city's heart was never rapid at the best of times, but this was somnambulistic.

'Why are we taking so long?' she asked no one in particular.

Tiberia made to lift the curtain and see.

'Don't you dare look out,' Livilla snapped at her. 'People are not to glimpse our faces.'

Tiberia tried to determine what she could through the fabric without raising it. 'It's impossible to see what's delaying us, Mother.'

Livilla called out to the lictor whose job it was to clear a path. 'What's going on out there? Why are we so slow today?'

'It's the mob, Lady,' the lictor called back. 'There's more of 'em here than usual.'

'Is there a criminal being whipped?'

'No, Lady. There's another litter trying to head in our direction, but that's all.'

'Then why so slow — why so many people?'

'I think they are here for you, Lady.'

Livilla felt a sudden thrill. 'I don't understand.'

'It is your first appearance on the streets. People are here to honour you.'

Livilla and Tiberia exchanged looks of amazement. Then Tiberia found herself crying. 'It's all because of Father. They're here because of our love for him.'

Livilla patted her daughter's hand consolingly, but her heart was soaring.

'Do the people wish to speak to me?' she called out to the lictor. She heard him conversing with some of the mob. He came closer to where she and Tiberia reclined behind the litter curtain.