Nest of Vipers

'Guilt at what?'

'At taking the child I bore him and selling it to a brothel.'

Burrus stared at her. 'Your master sold your child?'

The old woman nodded. 'If it had been a boy, he might have raised him as part of the household. But not a girl. Just another costly mouth to feed.'

Burrus said nothing.

'I didn't take the loss well,' the old woman whispered. 'When beatings made no difference, the old master gave me that little statue. It's her genius, her soul. I placed it on a shrine and kept an oil lamp burning night and day.'

Nilla's eyes were fixed on the thing. Burrus pressed it into her hands.

'Make a shrine for your little one, as I did,' said the old woman. 'It will help you heal.'

'Thank you,' Burrus whispered. He led Nilla into the atrium and up the stairs while the old woman followed in silence. When Nilla's head was placed upon the pillow, Burrus tried to ease the little figure from her hands.

'Don't,' said the old woman.

Burrus let her sleep with it.

At the door the woman turned to him, preparing to retire to her pallet. 'The child needs a name for the shrine. You must name the lost girl. Have you thought of one?'

With shame, Burrus told her that he hadn't. She was just 'the child' to him.

'That's a pity,' said the old woman.

'Acte,' said Nilla.

They turned to look at the bed.

'Acte,' Nilla repeated, her eyes closed in sleep. 'Our little girl, Acte, taken from us. Our little one… Acte.'

Thus was named the girl who would one day transcribe my history.'

The Kalends of April

AD 30

Fifteen months later: the writer Phaedrus is accused of making unflattering allusions to Praetorian Prefect Sejanus in his translation of Aesop's Fables. All copies are seized

The reckless request was unheard at first, lost among the crowd's screams for blood, but it began to grow louder as the tantalising nature of what was being asked tickled people's fancy and compelled them to add their voices. Those in the stands who could see into the Imperial box where Sejanus sat first saw the movement's potential. It was they who started the shout, insisting that the honour of raising or lowering his thumb should go to the Prefect in the absence of the Emperor. More and more spectators realised the implication — and got the joke of it — while the two helpless gladiators dripped sweat on the sand, one with the point of his sword at the other's throat, waiting to see the decision.

'Sejanus decide!' they chanted. 'Sejanus decide!'

Pressed into the shadows of the Imperial family's box, I held my breath, waiting to see what would come. Sejanus remained in his chair, watching the crowd, his face a mask. But the corners of his mouth were twitching. He was electrified by what was being asked of him. I felt a hand brush my ear. Startled, I turned. My domina, by whose ivory chair I was crouching, smiled at me.

'What will he do?' Livia purred in my ear. 'Play the Emperor and play into their hands? Listen to them. They want him to reveal his desire.'

My heart seemed to beat louder than the crowd's calls. She was talking to me in confidence again: I could scarcely believe it. 'Because they love him, domina?'

She laughed at me. 'Poor Iphicles, you've been in the dirt for far too long. They hate him, you idiot. They loathe him.'

'Then why are they shouting for him?'

'To hand him the rope with which to hang himself.' My domina 's hands were pressed together as she muttered into the air, 'Take it, Sejanus! Take the pretty rope!'

Sejanus stood and the crowd roared its approval. 'Look now, Iphicles,' Livia hissed to me, her eyes bright with fire. 'Look how his doom comes!'

Sejanus raised his hand high and the gesture was seen for what it was: a plea for silence. The roar ebbed as people held their breaths, in awe of what might happen next. When the arena was hushed, Sejanus regarded the gladiators below for a long time.

'Spare him!' came a voice from the crowd. 'He fought bravely! Spare him, Prefect!'

Sejanus raised his eyes to the crowd.

'Here it comes!' Livia thrilled.

'No one but the Emperor or the gods,' declared Sejanus, 'may decide a gladiator's fate.'

A murmur swept through the stands. Would Sejanus declare himself the Emperor-in-waiting?

'The Emperor is not here,' Sejanus boomed, 'so we must leave it to the gods.' Livia's face fell as Sejanus took an aureus coin from his tunic. 'Chance is the god!' He tossed the coin high in the air. Livia left her seat before Sejanus caught it.

' Domina?'

'I am cold. I wish to go home.'

'But domina — '

'Attend me.'

I scurried to fetch her palla, throwing it around her shoulders as she strode to the exit. She had no interest in whether the coin let the fallen gladiator live or die.

'So he didn't take the rope,' I said as we left. 'Are you really so surprised? When does Sejanus ever put a foot wrong?'

'Quite often, lately.'

I was astonished. 'Not in any way that I've heard.'

She sneered. 'Like I said, Iphicles, you've been prone in the dirt too long. He should have played to the crowd. He should have hanged himself. His response was too sensible.'

She wasn't speaking a drop of sense to me. 'Do you know Sejanus at all?' I asked.

She didn't hear my words. 'Martina will have to up the dose,' she muttered. 'He should have been acting far more recklessly than this. It's embarrassing.'

'Martina?' I spluttered.

'If it weren't for her, I'd be flat on my bed with your dummy prick still inside me.'

I flushed with shame. ' Domina… '

She waved her hand, dismissing the episode. But when I made to follow her to the litter, she cut me short. 'Who said you could leave? Go back to the box and be a slave. I have no more use for you.'

I dropped to the ground. 'Yes, domina.' I watched her depart, my heart soaring. At least she was sharing things with me again, however small.

When I returned to the Imperial seats, I took my place among the other slaves. Lygdus was there. In my joy at Livia's thaw I felt pleased to see him. It had been more than two years since we had interacted in any way. I had barely seen him since Nero's arrest; I didn't even know to which household he had been reassigned.

'How goes it?' I asked. Our disagreements were all in the past, as far as I was concerned now.

The look he gave me was haunted and I was shocked by the pain I saw in his face.

'Lygdus?'

He wouldn't speak.

I felt a surge of pity. I sat down where he crouched and placed my arm around his bulk. 'You must move on from Nero's fall,' I said. 'It has been too long. Your master is exiled. Look only to what is ahead.'

'And what is that?' he asked. 'Little Boots?' A tear rolled down his cheek.

I couldn't answer. I did not know. The resurgence of my domina had reminded me that, for a slave, taking actions that had not been ordered was a crime. The prophecies could not be my concern now.

'Nero was a good master — kind, even,' I said. 'But the domina is running things now. Bask in her mercy as I do. I was very wrong to take charge, but the domina forgives me. Surrender your will to her, son — surrender your mind. She will forgive you too. Embrace the ignorance you discarded. Be the pet again. I know in my heart that this is best for us slaves.'

Lygdus's eyes were red. 'You called me son?'

I was caught out — a slip of the tongue. But I had revealed what had long lived inside my heart. My love for Lygdus made me embrace him. 'Once I was like a father to you, son — let me be that father again.'

He looked away, but the nod, when it came, told me he had now accepted things.

Megalesia

April, AD 30

One week later: Jesus of Nazareth is crucified in Judea for aspiring to be King of the Jews