Nest of Vipers

There was a long silence. Every muscle tensed as I prepared to retrieve the curtain rod upon her command, ready to face her rage. But to my astonishment Livia agreed with me. 'Lygdus's "torture", as you call it, will cease. I can already sense that he will shortly become more useful than he has ever been.'

Intoxicated by my victory, I threw myself at her feet. She purred with pleasure at my grovelling and took care to tread cruelly upon me as she went to sit at her looking glass. Glowing with pride, I risked a final question from the floor. 'Dare I ask, domina, whom next you intend employing in your mysterious plans?'

Admiring her unnaturally youthful reflection, Livia was coy. 'I feel it will soon be time for Antonia to play her part,' she replied.

Equirria

October, AD 31

Eighteen months later: the prophet Stephen is tried by Sanhedrin priests in Judea for blasphemy against the Jewish god

Livilla tended her ailing mother with such a depth of love it shocked her. For her entire life her relationship with Antonia had been one of combat. All Antonia's attempts to censure and correct Livilla's wilful nature had been countermanded by sullen resistance during Livilla's younger years, and then outright refusal once she had married. Whatever feeling Livilla held for her mother was, previously, something she was unable to define. She had certainly hated Antonia at times — she knew that — and had kept many wicked secrets from her, all the while half-hoping that her mother would expose them, if only so she could relish Antonia's shock.

But now that Antonia's decline had become so marked, along with the fall of the House of Germanicus, Livilla's true love for her mother won through. Her own life was so happy. Everything for which she had hoped and prayed was imminent. Rome would soon nestle in her hand. She could afford to sweep aside the enmity of so many years and tend to her mother as the great matron prepared to board the barge for the Underworld.

'What led her to this state?' asked Livia, taking the chair next to sleeping Antonia's bed.

Livilla sponged her mother's limbs. 'I believe a madness gripped her, Grandmother.'

'From a river mist?'

'It could well have been.'

Livia clicked her tongue. 'Is that what drove her to write the letters?'

Livilla hesitated. 'You know of those?'

'So sad,' said Livia. 'Your dear mother and my son, the Emperor, were such devoted friends. I think back to when your father was taken from us, Livilla, Tiberius's dear brother. You were only a child — you can't be expected to remember it — but they were united in grief, Antonia and he. They became so close. I harboured thoughts that perhaps they'd even marry.'

'How nice that would have been,' said Livilla, trying to imagine it.

'But now he refuses even to reply to her. So cruel, my son.'

Livilla was wise enough to say nothing. She pressed the sponge to her mother's forehead and Antonia stirred a little.

'I suppose her bewilderment at Tiberius's treatment has led her here?' said Livia. 'That and other, equally perplexing, things, perhaps?'

Livilla stayed silent, sponging her mother's face. Then Antonia awoke and she saw the ageless woman, whom she had always called friend, at her bedside. 'Livia?'

My domina kissed her cheek. 'Don't excite yourself. I am here to see how you are. And Livilla has been so kind to me while you slept.'

Love shone in Antonia's eyes, filling their dull grey with life. Livilla had often doubted her feelings for her mother, but Antonia's love, despite the austerity with which it sometimes manifested itself, had never wavered. 'She has been so stoic, so dignified,' Antonia whispered.

Livilla held her mother's hand.

'So admirable,' Antonia added. 'An example for all Rome, my Livilla.'

'Yes,' said Livia, smiling at her granddaughter. 'That's just the word for her. An example.'

Livilla looked away. The memory of Livia's lovemaking with Sejanus was still too raw, as was the narrowness with which she herself had escaped exposure.

'Whereas I have fallen to pieces,' Antonia said. 'I, who was once so revered.'

'Now, now,' said Livia. 'You mustn't distress yourself with all this.'

'But it's true. The calamities that have befallen us. Livilla's poor brother Germanicus, and her fine husband Castor. And then her nephews' disgrace. Yet my daughter remains a bastion throughout all these trials. And all I can do is grow ill.'

Livia could only shake her head. 'You will be well again, when all this unpleasantness has passed us by. You will be renewed, Antonia, I can feel it.'

Antonia's smile was sad. She didn't believe it.

'Now, rest,' said Livia, rising. 'I will visit you again very soon.'

Antonia drifted into the state of being neither asleep nor awake. She only vaguely heard the sounds of Livia's departure, made with heartfelt wishes for Livilla's continued good health. Antonia was just getting ready for Somnus to take her fully when she lurched back to consciousness. Livia had returned and was bending over her. Livilla was not in the room.

'What is it?' Antonia said.

Livia was playful. 'I have a confession to make.'

'A confession?'

'Yes.' She leaned closer. Her mischievous look was like a girl's. 'You see, I know why Livilla has been such a rock of strength for the family throughout these trying times. But you mustn't tell her that I know.'

Feeling weak and ill, and wishing only to sleep in peace, Antonia struggled to indulge her old friend. 'But what reason would there be, Livia?'

'Because she is blessed with a strong, noble man in her life,' Livia whispered. 'Because she is so in love…'

Our ears were pressed to the door, straining to determine the words from among the moans.

'But what are they saying about him?' Lygdus asked, wide-eyed. 'I heard his name — didn't you?'

'I think so,' I said.

'Nero. He said Nero's name to her.'

On the other side of the door Tribune Macro penetrated my domina with impressive vigour.

'If he'd just stop pounding her like that, maybe the bed would stop squeaking and we could listen properly.'

As if this complaint had embarrassed them, we heard the sounds of the lovers changing position. My domina was now astride Macro and the bed ceased moving with quite such vitality. We pressed our ears harder. Nero was indeed being discussed.

'Oh my gods!' Lygdus blurted out as he heard it. He barely stifled a cry. The lovers fell abruptly silent inside my domina 's suite. We sprang away from the door.

'You fool!' I hissed. 'You've alerted them.'

We threw ourselves to the floor, waiting for the second when my domina would fling open the door in rage. But nothing came. We heard the bed begin to squeak again. Lygdus raised his head.

'Don't risk it,' I whispered. 'Please!'

Lygdus was hell-bent. 'They're discussing Nero. Macro has heard something of what his fate will be and he's telling the domina of it.'

'Lygdus — no!'

He was upright again with his ear at the door. Too fearful, I remained where I was, watching intently as he listened to a conversation I could not hear.

'She's sobbing,' Lygdus whispered. 'She's crying in there.'

'It's the way he penetrates her,' I said. 'It makes her do that. I think she's grateful.'

'She's distraught. She's begging him to intervene.'

'It's their lovemaking again.'

Lygdus went white. 'She's pleading for Nero's life.'

I sat upright. 'Lygdus, come away right now.'

He shook his head, listening. 'No. No!' he gasped, clamping his hands to his mouth.

'Stop it — they'll hear you now for sure!'

He lurched from the door, flapping uselessly around the room.

'Oh gods,' I muttered, 'you'll bring the carnifex upon us.'