David Wishart - Sejanus

'Okay. How about here in Rome?'

'We didn't have many visitors. There was Crito, of course, the man who came the same day you did. He came quite regularly, two or three times a month.'

As soon as she said it I remembered. That was where I'd heard the name before. Just before I'd left, Marius's slave had told him that Crito was waiting to see him downstairs. He must've come straight round after murdering Celsus, and then gone out after me. And Festus had said that Tubero had used Crito in the past. Uh huh. So. Another link in the chain. I sat back.

'Anything else you can tell me?' I said.

Her brow furrowed. 'There was a soldier five years ago. A Gaul. Father gave him money, a lot of money. I don't know his name, but I think it was for giving evidence in one of the trials. I was only small at the time, but I remember because Father said the emperor was furious about it. He was so pleased that he bought me my first pony.'

Aemilius. The guy who Lippillus had told me had insisted on repeating the slanders that had made the Wart lose his rag so spectacularly at the Montanus trial. Shit! I'd got Sejanus cold! At least as far as his involvement in the western scam went. And when Tiberius found out his buddy had been behind that bit of bad-mouthing he'd feed him to the lampreys personally.

Marilla was looking at me anxiously: a child with too-old eyes, desperate for praise. 'Does this help?' she said. 'I'm sorry, I can't tell you much more.'

'Yeah, princess. It helps. It helps a lot. Thanks. Now what's this about your father planning to kill the emperor?'

She squirmed in her chair. 'I don't know much about that, just the plain fact. He isn't going to do it himself, but he's in touch with the people who are.'

'Tiberius is on Capri. He has been for years.'

'Yes. I know. But I don't think that matters.'

I stared at her. Capri was like a fortress, naturally defended, with just one possible landing place. Nobody got in or out without Tiberius knowing about it, and with his permission. And of course everyone who was there already had been carefully vetted six ways from nothing; the paranoid old bugger made sure of that. So if it didn't matter that the Wart was squirrelled away in his self-constructed bastion then Marius — Sejanus — must have someone in place on the inside. And in that case we were looking at a whole new can of worms.

'You know when this is supposed to happen?' I asked casually.

'Yes. The twenty-eighth of July.'

I goggled. 'The twenty-eighth of July? Jupiter, you know the date? '

She nodded. 'Father said it was a lucky omen. The twenty-eighth of July was the day the Romans were beaten at Amtorgis.'

'You don't say?' Yeah, well, history never was my strong point. 'Remind me about that, will you?

'Amtorgis is a place in the Baetis valley,' she said carefully, like a schoolgirl repeating a history lesson of her own. 'The battle happened in Carthage's second war with Rome after the Spanish troops in the Roman army went over to the Carthaginians. Your general Publius Scipio was killed, his army was destroyed, and you lost all of Spain south of the Ebro.'

Uh-huh. I could see how the symbolism of that little anniversary would appeal to a nationalistic screwball like Marius. I'd noticed the 'you' from Marilla, too. Well, it was how the kid had been brought up, I supposed. If you can call what she'd been through bringing up. The twenty-eighth of July was a whole three months away, sure, but that didn't necessarily make things any easier.

'Marilla,…' I began. Then I looked up. Perilla was coming towards us through the portico. She looked frightened. Badly frightened.

'Marcus,' she said quietly, 'I think you'd better come. It's your Uncle Cotta.'

Cotta was standing in the atrium.

'Hey, Cotta, how're things?' I said; and then I saw what Perilla had meant. His thin, weaselly face was pale. Either with fright, or fury, or possibly both.

It was both.

'Marcus,' he said, 'what the hell have you been doing?'

I temporised. 'Uh…how do you mean?' Shit! We'd been rumbled! I'd known this would happen. I just hoped there were enough honest men left at the top to give me a fair hearing, because if I couldn't successfully plead extenuating circumstances for kidnapping Marius's daughter then I was dead. Maybe literally.

'Don't give me that, boy!' Cotta snapped. 'The rumour's all over the city, and I've just had it confirmed by Pomponius Secundus.' I knew Secundus: a close friend of Sejanus's, but not a bad guy in his way, just careful.

'What rumour's this, Uncle?' Hell, I hoped Perilla had had the sense to tell our house guest to keep out of sight. Brito too.

Cotta obviously wasn't listening. I'd never seen him so angry, or so frightened: trouble in a family had a habit of rubbing off on all its members. 'How could you be so stupid, Marcus?’ he said. ‘How could you be so bloody stupid? I thought you kept your nose out of politics. And you've only been back in Rome for a few days.'

There was something screwy here. He'd said politics, not kidnapping. Maybe this had nothing to do with Marilla after all.

'Uncle,' I said, 'I haven't the least idea what you're talking about here. You want to sit down and tell me calmly, or what?'

'Fuck calmly! What was it, a letter? Or did you just shoot your silly mouth off in the wrong direction once too often?'

'Neither, as far as I know.' I'd had enough of this. 'Now what exactly has Secundus been telling you?'

Cotta stared at me. 'You mean you don't know? You honestly don't know?'

'Look, just…'

'Aelius Sejanus is getting ready to arrest you for treason!'

I sat down. My brain had gone numb.

'Just what am I supposed to've done?' I said.

'How the hell do I know? That's what I was asking you!' Cotta picked up the wine jug on the table, splashed some wine into a cup and drank it down. 'You must've done something to get Sejanus's back up.'

Sure I had. Quite a lot. But nothing against the Wart. And nothing, barring last night's little episode, that he could legitimately charge me with.

'It's a set-up,' I said. 'It has to be.'

'Set-up or not, as of now you're up shit creek without a paddle.' Cotta poured himself another cup of wine and sat down with it. 'And it serves you bloody right, what's more.'

'How do you mean?'

'You think I don't know what Arruntius and Lamia talked to you about the day of your father's funeral? You shove your nose into Aelius Sejanus's business and you can expect it to be cut off.'

I got up, poured myself a bumper of Setinian and took it back to the couch just as Perilla came back in. She'd been seeing, I knew, to Marilla. I also knew from her face that Cotta had already told her about the treason rap. Without a word she sat down beside me and gripped my hand.

'Hey, Cotta,' I said. 'Thanks for the show of solidarity, pal.'

'It's not a question of solidarity.' Cotta was scowling. 'You're my nephew and I'll defend you to the hilt. In court and out of it.'

'Is that right, now?' Yeah. Sure. I'd believe that last bit when I saw it. If Cotta agreed to be my lawyer it'd only be because society expected it of him, and he wouldn't bust a gut over the case in public or private.

'Of course I will.' He put on an injured expression. 'Now your father's gone it's my simple duty. However, we've got to be realistic here. If you've any sense you won't let it come to a trial at all.'

A cold finger touched the back of my neck. 'You mean I should kill myself now?' I said calmly. Perilla's hand stiffened in mine.

'Jupiter, no, boy!' Cotta waved the words away. 'We aren't at that stage yet.' I noticed the yet, and it chilled me. 'Secundus more or less told me straight that Sejanus expects you to get on the first boat east and stay the hell away from Rome for the foreseeable future.'