David Wishart - Nero

'Certainly, madam,' he said: the deafness was, after all, selective.

Silia scanned the tray. 'Oh, look!' She picked up a cameo brooch with Lucius's face in profile and held it up to the light; such light as there was in the shop when the doorway was almost blocked by the two gigantic Nubians whom Argyrio used to protect his stock from sneak-thieves and bogus customers. 'Isn't it a good likeness, poor lamb? He's such a pretty boy! Mind you, he'll go terribly jowly like his father in a couple of years. You can see the signs already.'

'So.' I took the brooch from her and put it back: imperial portrait jewellery is so tacky, I always think, however well done. 'You had nothing to do with this ridiculous scheme.'

'Of course not!' She paused. 'Well, not much. And I wouldn't exactly call it ridiculous. It really is quite plausible.'

Plausible. Arruntius's adjective.

'It may be plausible,’ I said. ‘But is it true?'

'Oh, Titus, please don't be tiresome, there's a dear! What does truth have to do with it?'

I sighed. 'Because if the accusation's false, as I assume it is, then Arruntius is right. Silana will never make the charge stick, and Agrippina will be in a stronger position than ever.'

'Nonsense. She's only just clinging on by her fingernails as it is. A charge of treason will be the last little push that sends her over the edge.'

'You think Lucius would exile his own mother without firm proof? Especially his mother?'

'But of course he would! Frankly, dear, I think he'd welcome the excuse. They've hardly exchanged a word for months, not since he sent her out of the palace to live in that poky old place of her grandmother's. Lucius is growing up at last, he isn't the boy he was.'

'That's certainly true. In fact why should he stop at exile? He already has one family killing to his credit, and there's nothing like murder forgiving one confidence.'

'Titus!' Silia was frowning, and making frantic signalling movements with her eyes. I glanced at Argyrio, who was already at the far end of the counter straightening a necklace. Even selective deafness, it seemed, had its limits, and I'd just overstepped them.

'I'm sorry,' I murmured.

'So you should be! Anyone would think you were defending the woman.'

'Of course I'm not defending her! But I am worried, especially after that talk with Arruntius.'

'Oh, don't pay any attention to Gnaeus! The poor dear hasn't an optimistic bone in his body.'

I didn't laugh. 'That may be true, darling, but Agrippina's still dangerous, and she's slippery as a greased eel. You're no match for her, and poor Silana certainly isn't. So it's all down to which way Lucius jumps.' A thought struck me. 'What does Acte have to say?'

'How should I know?' Silia still sounded petulant; I could see that I'd have to buy her that hideous imperial cameo after all. 'I haven't seen the woman for over a month.'

I beckoned to Argyrio. He came, rubbing his palms together and exuding an expensive scent of musk.

'Then perhaps you should,' I said.

Getting into the palace was even more difficult than usual. Arruntius was right, all hell was loose and security had been doubled. Luckily Silia spotted a freedman she knew who was willing to carry a message to Acte. She came to the gate personally and took us through.

I hadn't seen her myself for two or three months, not since Britannicus's death in fact. Then, she'd looked terrible, and she didn't look all that much better now. Life with Lucius couldn't be easy, especially for someone not brought up to the stresses of political life. If nothing else I admired the woman's dedication.

'Come on up,' she said. 'Lucius is with Seneca. We won't be disturbed.' She led us along a marble-lined corridor and then through a door fitted flush with the panelling. 'This is the back way. It's more private.'

'A change from your old city tenement, darling,' I said, to make conversation.

'Yeah.' Her voice was brittle as glass. 'Which do you think I prefer? One guess.'

I didn't reply; the answer was in that voice. Another short corridor led to a flight of wooden stairs, unpolished, intended for servants rather than (the word came unbidden) inmates. Then we were through a second door, and back to the world of marble and wall-paintings. A female slave — a girl of about thirteen — appeared. She looked frightened.

'That's okay, Chryse,' Acte said. 'Leave us in private, will you?'

The girl nodded and left. Acte opened one of the several doors that led off the small landing.

'Welcome to the sanctum,' she said. 'Make yourselves at home.'

I'd expected, I think, a high-grade courtesan's suite, all soft colours, luxurious furniture and erotic decor, but the room was tiny, almost as small as Acte's tenement workshop; in fact I recognised the work-bench and some of the masks. A tailor's dummy stood in one corner with a half-made costume draped over it.

Acte saw me looking. 'It makes me feel comfortable,’ she said. ‘Basically I'm a slob. Sit down. No couches, I'm afraid, just stools. They take up less space.'

We sat. Acte perched on the edge of the work-bench.

'I'm glad you've come,' she said. 'In fact I was going to come to you. I need advice, fast.'

'What about?' I said.

'She's got away with it.' I didn't have to ask who she was: theEmpress. Agrippina. 'Petronius, it was horrible! She walked all over him!'

'Tell us. From the beginning.'

'We were having dinner last night. Seneca was there, but not Burrus, he was over at the Guards camp. Lucius was drunk — he often is these days — but he was in a good mood. Then Paris came in.' Paris was a ballet-dancer, and one of the emperor's favourites. 'He was in a terrible state, or he pretended to be. Me, I think he was putting it on.'

I nodded. Being a professional actor, Paris could mimic any emotion you cared to name, but Acte was no fool. She would have spotted the deception at once.

'So what happened?'

'He told Lucius that his mother was plotting to kill him. No frills, just that. It took a while to get through to Lucius because like I say the poor kid was drunk, but when it did he blew up. He'd a dinner knife in his hand and I swear he would've killed Paris if I hadn't hung on to his arm. Seneca grabbed him too and we got him settled enough to listen. Then Paris got down to details. Seemingly Lucius was to be murdered by his own guard at the next games, and then Agrippina would marry young Plautus and make him emperor. The Senate were for him, plus half the legionary commanders.' She paused. 'Burrus, too.'

Something cold touched my spine: with Burrus gone Lucius might well be uncontrollable.

'What about Seneca?' I asked. 'What was he doing while all this was going on?'

Acte's mouth twisted in a pale smile. 'I thought he'd mess his pants, but he was great. I mean, great. He turned sort of slow and pompous, the way he does, and it was just what Lucius needed.' Her actor's voice deepened. '"Now don't be hasty, my dear boy, don't be hasty. Great men are never hasty. Remember that Alexander always thought before he acted, and he was merciful. Good rulers are always merciful." Great, like I say. He calmed Lucius down. We couldn't have done it without him.'

Silia shifted on her stool. 'Well personally, my dear,' she said coolly, 'I think it was a pity he interfered.'

'You weren't there.' Acte frowned. 'Sure, I want the empress dead. She'd bury me quick enough. But Lucius was frightening. Believe me, he wouldn't've stopped at Agrippina or Plautus, or even Burrus, not by along chalk. We'd've had the treason trials all over again. Is that what you want?'

Silia didn't reply, and nor did I. To anyone who had lived through them, only one answer was possible.

'So Seneca calmed the emperor down,' I said.