David Wishart - Nero

'For God's sake!' I leaned back, forgetting in my anger that I was sitting on a stool, and almost overbalanced. 'Lucius is a grown man! That's the kind of language I'd expect from a six-year-old!'

'That's the point I'm trying to make, Petronius,' Acte said patiently. 'He is a child, in many ways.'

'He's the fucking ruler of the world, darling, and don't you forget it! And I don't like that bit about Gaius, either.' Gaius — Caligula — had murdered his quondam co-heir Gemellus. If Lucius took to regarding Caligula as a model of behaviour then we were in the shit up to our eyeballs.

'It's not his fault!' Acte snapped. 'It's the Empress! She has him tied up in knots!'

'I agree, Titus,' Silia said.

I stared at her. 'You what?'

'Oh, I'm not defending him. What he did was inexcusable. But that woman is a spiritual Lamia.'

Despite my anger, I saw her point. Lamia is the nursery bogey who steals children from their cradles, eats their flesh and sucks their blood. It was a fair parallel to draw. If Lucius was turning into a monster then a large part of the blame was Agrippina's. Even so…

I got up and poured myself a cup of wine.

'What has he done with the body?' I asked: Britannicus's death had still not been officially announced.

'He had it burned.' Acte's voice was toneless. 'We buried the ashes in the palace cellars. Petronius, he's suffering, don't you understand?'

I drank my wine and said nothing; frankly, I couldn't trust myself. Whatever sympathy I could muster most certainly did not extend to poor dear Lucius. The little bastard was a disaster waiting to happen and we'd be far better off without him.

'I'm afraid, Titus, that in this instance I'm on Acte's side. Lucius deserves his chance,' said Silia. 'Dreadful though this whole thing is I think it may turn out to be for the best in the end.'

I sighed.

'I'm sorry, my dear, but I disagree. The boy's mad and bad both. Unfortunately he's also Emperor of Rome. Let's just hope Seneca and Burrus can keep him in bounds.'

Acte squared her jaw.

'Of course we can,' she said.

'Bully for you, darling.' I drained my wine-cup. 'Personally I intend to keep my head down.'

I did. By the gods I did. Not that it had any effect, mind.

I was coming out of my banker's in the Market Square when I bumped into Arruntius — literally — as he hurried away from a huddle of broad-stripers near the old Speakers Platform. Whatever they'd been discussing (and they'd been discussing something, that was clear, not just passing the time of day), the matter was serious. Arruntius was scowling. I apologised.

'Morning, Petronius.' He didn't sound too friendly, but then I had trodden fairly decisively on his foot. 'What brings you out of the woodwork so early?'

I shrugged. 'A poor investment. I'm cutting my losses before they cut me.'

'Know the feeling.' His scowl lifted a little — cash-flow problems are always a shared bond- but he still looked grave. We fell into step together as he walked towards the Temple of the Divine Julius.

'You've heard the news?' he said at last.

'What news?'

'About the prosecution.'

'No. What prosecution?'

'It's all over the Square. That stupid cow Silana. Jupiter grant Silia's not mixed up in it somewhere, although I wouldn't put it past her.'

'Silia?' I felt the first prickle of unease. Junia Silana was Silia'ssister-in-law, or had been until her brother had been executed for adultery with the infamous Messalina. They were still close friends. 'Arruntius, just tell me, please. What's happened?'

'Silana's taking on the empress. A treason charge.'

I stopped dead. 'Silana's accusing Agrippina of treason?'

'Not directly, she's using a couple of freedmen stooges. But it's common knowledge. Last night all hell broke loose up at the palace.'

'What makes you think Silia might be involved?'

'You tell me!' he snapped. The scowl was back with a vengeance. 'You're the bastard who got her mixed up in politics!'

That was unfair and he knew it; if anything it was the other way round. However, a gentleman does not criticise a lady, especially if she is his mistress and he's talking to her husband, so I let it pass. Arruntius was clearly not himself; not that the real Arruntius was much better, mind.

I caught at his arm and steered him towards the porch of Castor's temple. Like him I was worried, seriously so. He was right, of course. This was just the sort of dangerous, high-handed, crack-brained scheme Silia might well come up with, and although Silana was no demure Roman matron she was not, to put it kindly, overburdened with brains. I parked us by a pillar and began the serious grilling.

'All right, then,' I said. 'Now tell me the whole story.'

'You honestly don't know?'

'Honestly.'

Arruntius shook his head. 'I don't know all the details myself.'

'Oh, come on, Arruntius! Whatever you've got!'

'You know Silana's hated the empress's guts since that business with young Africanus?'

I nodded. The affair had provided a juicy bit of scandal several years before. Silana, never the chastest woman in Rome, had sunk her well-manicured claws into a certain young nobleman called Sextius Africanus. Agrippina had used her influence to break off the liaison (rumour had it because she wanted the good-looking boy for herself) and Silana, up to then Agrippina's closest friend, had never either forgotten or forgiven.

'Well,' Arruntius went on, 'what with Agrippina in disgrace Silana's taking the chance to get her own back. According to her the empress is planning a coup, with Rubellius Plautus as co-partner.'

I laughed. ' Plautus? Arruntius, you cannot be serious!' Rubellius Plautus was a boringly sensible young prig with a strong sense of duty to the state; it would not have surprised me if he had SPQR embroidered on to his drawers. 'Even the emperor wouldn't believe god-rotting Plautus, darling!'

'You want to bet?' Arruntius was looking sour. 'It's plausible enough. Agrippina's been touting for support for months among the top families. Plautus's mother was Tiberius's granddaughter, he's got the blood and the connections. And last I heard the emperor wasn't exactly noted for his level-headedness.'

A fair point. I remembered what Acte had said about Lucius lashing out when he was frightened. And Lucius, it was becoming horribly apparent, was very easily frightened indeed.

'So what's the problem?' I said. 'It's terribly hard luck on Plautus, of course, but if Silana manages to get rid of Agrippina she'll have done everyone a favour.'

' If is right. I wouldn't count my chickens, Petronius. Only someone as pea-brained as Silana would underestimate Agrippina.'

'There's your answer, then. Silia is not a pea-brain.'

'Let's hope she isn't,' he grunted and moved away from the pillar. 'You seem to know more about my wife than I do. Now I'm sorry, Petronius, but I've important business. Will you be seeing her today?'

'Silia? I might.' In fact we'd arranged to meet later that morning at Argyrio's the jeweller's in the Saepta to browse through his latest acquisitions.

'Good. Then tell her what I've told you. And even if she isn't involved tell her that if she's any remaining vestige of sense she'll drop her good old pal straight down the nearest drain-hole.'

'But it was all Silana's idea, dear, honestly!' Silia was wearing her most innocent expression; the one I didn't trust an inch. 'I was so proud of her for thinking of it, because she isn't very…well, poor Silana isn't exactly cerebral, if you know what I mean.' She held up a pair of ruby earrings. 'What do you think of these? Aren't they lovely?'

'Far too ornate, darling. And ridiculously over-priced.'

'True.' She handed them over to Argyrio, who was holding the stacked trinket-tray on the other side of the counter and smiling vacantly at the air between us: deafness was a common complaint in the Saepta's upmarket shops, 'Put them on my husband's bill, please, Argyrio.'