Sejanus

I sighed. Well, I should've known better than to expect Perilla to agree straight off when I told her the plan, but then I've always been an optimist.

'Look, lady,' I said, 'we don't have any choice. This is going to be dangerous, it's going to be uncomfortable, and the first part's going to be plain and simple boring. Don't make things any more difficult than they are already, okay?'

'I don't get bored easily, I can stand being uncomfortable in a good cause, and as far as the danger is concerned if you are willing to risk it then so am I. Besides, Athens is impossible.'

'And why is that, now?'

She sighed. 'Marcus, if you disappear people are going to ask questions. The first person they are going to ask them of is your wife, and whether she is in Athens or Rome it is not going to matter much. When she refuses to answer, as she will, they are going to turn nasty, very nasty indeed. Sejanus might not risk accusing me of treason as such, but I wouldn't be the first to face a trumped-up charge of adultery.' Shit. I hadn't thought of that. It was obvious when you came to think of it, sure, but then even I couldn't think of everything. Sejanus would do it, too, if only to smoke me out. 'Besides, what would I live on?'

'You'd have…' I stopped. She was right again, and for the same reasons. The bar on my income and property wouldn't only be valid at Rome, it would hold throughout the empire. And of course it would extend to her. 'Yeah, okay, maybe holing up in the Subura wasn't such a good idea in the first place. Let's forget it.'

'We certainly will not forget it! Not after your father and Agron have gone to so much trouble for you!' She was really angry now. 'Besides, if we go back to Athens now it'll kill you, just as surely as Sejanus would, only much more slowly and painfully. I don't want that, and I won't be the reason for it happening. I'd sooner kill myself and solve the problem that way, and believe me if I have to I will. Is that perfectly clear?'

I looked at her, shaken. There were tears in her eyes but her mouth was set in that hard line that I knew meant she was serious. Deadly serious.

'Yeah,' I said. 'Yeah, that's clear.'

'Good.' She stood up, and tried a smile. 'In any case, it might be fun. I've only been inside a Suburan flat once, and that was just the cupboard.'

'Think of it as practice.' My throat was still dry. I swallowed. 'These places are pretty pokey.'

'Then I'd better think about what to pack, hadn't I?'

Someone coughed. I turned round. Bathyllus was standing by the door, shifting from foot to foot like he had to go somewhere fast before his bladder burst.

'Forgive the interruption, sir,' he said, 'but I couldn't help overhearing.'

I stared at him. Bathyllus never overheard, on principle. By his reckoning it was on a par with embezzling the housekeeping and blowing the cash on booze and wild women.

'Is that so?' I said.

'Yes, sir. And I would like to come as well, please.'

'Gods!' First Perilla, now Bathyllus! Was I the only sane one around here? 'Great idea! Why don't we just all move on down to the Subura and be done with it? We can take turns breathing.'

Bathyllus didn't bat an eyelid. 'I don't think that will be necessary, sir. And I'd have to go somewhere.'

'I agree, Marcus,' Perilla said. 'Bathyllus can't stay here anyway. None of the household slaves can. It's far too dangerous.'

I sat down on the couch and put my head in my hands. That was something else I hadn't thought of: as soon as I disappeared my slaves would be seized with the rest of the property. And the first thing Sejanus would do — quite legitimately — was have them tortured for any information they might have as to the master's current whereabouts.

'Okay,' I said. 'So what do we do?'

'If I might suggest, sir,' Bathyllus said, 'Meton and I could go with you to the new property. With perhaps another slave for emergencies. The others could be distributed around your friends and relatives as appropriate. They would know nothing, and it would be in their interests to keep quiet.'

I almost laughed. I could just see Bathyllus sharing a cubby-hole with Meton. They'd be at each other's throats in five minutes. 'You think that'd work?'

He sniffed. 'It isn't really satisfactory, but it's the best I can offer.'

'Yeah. Yeah, I suppose so. We'll draw up a list.' There was a jug of wine on the table. I poured a cup and sank it. Life was getting complicated. 'Make your arrangements, Bathyllus. Oh, and Bathyllus?'

'Yes, sir?'

'Thanks.'

'Don't mention it, sir.'

He left.

Okay. So now we were committed.

26

The next day I played games. First I sent Bathyllus haring off down to Puteoli, to arrange passage on the first ship east: it was still fairly early in the season and most of the Piraeus traffic goes from Brindisi, but there would be something sailing from the west coast, and I wanted to show willing. More than willing: for this whole thing to work I had to persuade Sejanus that I was running scared. That shouldn't be all that difficult; being the cocky bastard he was he wouldn't expect me to do anything else, especially after the weak-livered impression I hoped I'd given him at Dad's funeral. After Bathyllus had gone I went down to the Market Square with the longest face I could manage and told anyone who asked that we were cutting the holiday short and heading back to Greece. Not that many people did ask, or even talk to me, come to that; the news had obviously spread that Corvinus was on the skids, and after the third so-called friend had cut me dead I felt like a leper with halitosis. Cotta was standing outside the entrance to the senate house, talking to Trio. The consul smirked in my direction and threw me a wink, but Cotta didn't even look round. He'd seen me; sure he had. Up yours, pal, I thought. At least Trio made no secret about where his loyalties lay.

There was no sign of Lamia or Arruntius. I was glad of that. These two I couldn't've faced.

When I got back the messenger was in from the Alban Hills. Marcia Fulvina was more than willing to have Marilla for as long as she wanted to stay. Well, that was one load off my mind, anyway. I'd send a few more of my lads with them, as well as the coachman, for safety on the road and for their own good. Two or three months away from the fleshpots of Rome would bring the roses back into their cheeks, anyway. And they could help out with the chickens.

We packed. That took Perilla and me about five minutes, but Meton agonised for three hours over his cooking equipment. I remembered what I'd said about lending the guy to Lippillus. Well, he'd be finding out what it was like to cook over a single charcoal brazier after all. Trouble was we'd have to eat the result. If I'd been on my own I'd've happily lived out of cookshops like tenement people usually do, but with Perilla tagging along things were different. Not to mention Bathyllus, who'd've burst his truss at the idea of us eating takeaway food.

The last thing I did was send a skivvy round to Lippillus's to check how he was getting along. I'd've gone myself, but I'd given my word to Marcina, and anyway I didn't trust myself not to tell him about the Subura bolthole. Sure, I considered it, but it wouldn't've been fair on him: he couldn't've done anything and the fewer people who knew where we were the better. Even Mother didn't know, and if push came to shove she could swear to it on the forehead of Jupiter Capitolinus himself. That was Dad's idea, too. I was beginning to have a healthy respect for Dad.

We left after midnight of the second day, through the garden gate at the back of the house. Everything had been carefully planned. The four of us — including the skivvy Alexis — would go on foot and meet up with Agron at the Sacred Way junction. Bathyllus would follow on, in his own time, when he got back from Puteoli. I just hoped I'd shown myself sufficiently spineless, and Sejanus wouldn't have us staked out, but that was a risk we had to take.