David Wishart - Sejanus

Yeah. That made sense, and it explained the leak and why he hadn't sent his Praetorians round already to drag me to the Mamertine. All Sejanus wanted was to get me off his back. Sure, I could stay in Rome and dare him to prove a charge that both of us knew would be phoney as a landlord's tears, but I'd be a fool to try. And as for going direct to the Wart with what I'd got and expecting him to believe me, with a treason rap pending I might as well start looking out for flying pigs. No, it looked like I'd have to cut my losses and run back to Athens.

'Fine, Uncle.' I closed my eyes wearily. 'You've delivered your message and made your recommendation. I'll think about it. Now leave me the hell alone, okay?'

'Marcus, boy…'

'I said I'd think about it!' I snapped.

I could hear him getting to his feet. I opened my eyes again. He was standing looking down at me, and he wasn't too happy.

'Okay, Marcus,' he said. 'It's your life. But don't think too long. Secundus mentioned two days.'

'Is that so? Two whole days, eh? I'll see you around, Uncle.'

'Not if you're sensible, you won't!'

'Cotta,' My temper broke. 'Just do yourself a favour and piss of, okay?'

He left. Perilla put her arms round me and hugged me, very tightly. Neither of us said anything.

So it looked like we'd be saying goodbye to Marilla even sooner than we'd expected. I was sorry for Perilla, because she was fond of the kid. Well, I suppose we both were. Still, it had to be done. I sent a rider to Marcia's place in the Alban Hills asking her if she'd give the girl a home for the time being, and explaining the circumstances. That last part was only fair because if this ever came out she'd be charged as an accessory, but I knew it'd also make the asking a formality. Marcia was one of the old school, tough as a leather boot, and she'd've taken on the whole Praetorian Guard before she let the kid go back to Marius.

The slave had just gone when a message from Mother arrived. Not a dinner invitation this time; she wanted to see me urgently.

Uh-huh. I wasn't really surprised. Bad news travels fast, and the family were standing in line to tell Corvinus what a bloody fool he'd been and help him decide to give up and leave gracefully. Not that I needed telling, if you discounted the 'gracefully'. Forget 'decide', too, because there wasn't a decision involved. If Sejanus wanted me gone it'd be suicide to stay in Rome and fight it out. Literally; either that or the public executioner's noose. And if by some miracle the senate decreed the lesser penalty or the Wart intervened then it'd still mean exile. At least Athens was home.

There was no point putting it off. I went round to the Caelian straight away.

Priscus wasn't in evidence, but Mother was waiting for me in the atrium. She was looking suitably serious.

'Hi,' I said.

She took my head between her palms and kissed my forehead. 'Marcus,' she said softly, 'what on earth have you been doing?'

The same question as Cotta's. Ah, well, I supposed it was inevitable under the circumstances.

'Would you believe nothing?' I said.

'Quite frankly no.'

'Nothing deserving prosecution on a treason rap, anyway.' I sat down on the couch by the pool. 'Where's Priscus?'

'Tomb-bashing in Veii. I don't expect him back until tomorrow. Or for several days, if he forgets to come home, as usually happens.' She lay down on the other couch facing me. 'So. What are your plans?'

'Back to Athens, I suppose. You know Sejanus is letting me go?'

'Horrible man.' Mother frowned. 'A pusher. And so terribly hairy in the hoof.' She paused. 'Marcus, I promised myself that I wouldn't ask you about your dealings with him, but I have to know. This thing is an attempt to remove you from Rome, isn't it? Because you're causing Sejanus some sort of bother?'

'Yeah, you could say that.'

She nodded, her lips pressed together. 'Yes, I thought so. How typically underhand of him. I'm not really surprised: Aelius Sejanus was one of the few subjects your father and I agreed on. Oh, Marcus had to be polite to him, of course, but he saw through the man from the start. He was quite proud of you, you know, over that Germanicus business, even if it didn't lead anywhere much.'

'Is that right?' I was cautious I never did trust Mother when her conversation rambled. It might sound disconnected but when you untangled the various strands later you found they'd all led to the same important place. Direct, too, only from half a dozen different angles. Mother was a sharp cookie, and I never forgot it either.

'Yes. Very proud,' she said absently. 'In fact I suppose that's why he made the arrangement.'

'What arrangement?' I'd had enough of this pussyfooting around. I'd got other things to do. Like packing. 'Mother, I'm sorry, but will you get to the point, please? You asked me round here for a reason. So spit it out, okay?'

'But I didn't want to see you, Marcus!' she said. 'Or at least only to offer my commiserations.'

Shit! One of us was crazy, and I was pretty sure it wasn't me. 'Yeah? So what am I doing here, then?'

'Why don't you go along to the study and find out, dear.'

The study door was closed. I opened it carefully. There was a guy sitting at Priscus's desk, a big guy who would've made two of Priscus, easy. He turned round…

'Agron!'

'Hi, Corvinus.' He grinned. 'Good to see you.'

The big Illyrian had aged and got himself a paunch since I'd seen him last: marriage and good living evidently agreed with him. His grip was as hard as ever, though.

'Yeah.' I was staring at him. 'But what the hell are you doing here?'

'Your mother sent for me when she heard about the treason rap.' He paused. 'As per the arrangement.'

That was the second time I'd heard that word. 'What arrangement?'

'The one we — your mother and I — had with your father.' His face clouded. 'I'm sorry I didn't get to the funeral, by the way. My condolences.'

'Yeah. Thanks.' My head was spinning, and I sat down on the reading couch. 'Now will you just tell me what all this is about?'

'Here.' He handed me a sealed packet. 'This'll explain for me.'

I took the packet. It was addressed to me in my father's neat, precise handwriting. 'What's this?'

'Open it.'

I broke the seal with my thumb. There were two enclosures: a thick document and a thinner one. The thick document was the title deeds to a property in the Subura. The thinner one was a letter from my father.

I looked at Agron.

'Go ahead,' he said. 'Read.'

I lay back on the couch and read.

Marcus Valerius Messalla Messalinus to his son Marcus. Greetings.I sincerely hope, my boy, that you will never read this. If you do it means that you are in trouble; very deep and possibly fatal trouble. Knowing you, and knowing the direction in which political events are taking us, I suspect that the hope is a false one; however, that is not important. Let it go.

I have felt for some years that Aelius Sejanus is a danger to the state; perhaps its greatest danger. We have only ourselves to blame, of course (we being the senate) in that we have systematically alienated the emperor; not by anything we have done, particularly, but by being the servile crew that we are. This is no one's fault, although I include myself in the charge and am making no excuses: you cannot reverse four generations of subservience overnight, although Tiberius has tried. It is one of the reasons why I admire him.

Sejanus is dangerous because he is what we are not: a strong-willed, capable, organised and directed force. Which is, of course, why the emperor likes him. Were he directed to the state's good I would have nothing but praise for the man, but his interests are purely selfish. To get what he wants he is prepared to pull Rome apart and throw the good out with the bad. In consequence, he must be stopped.