Allan Massie: Tiberius

"You don't, but you will be in worse trouble if you think it is. If you choose not to accompany me — " Sigmund spread his hands wide — "then he asked me to assure you that he will tell Sejanus to subject you to interrogation."

"When I mentioned that, he was like wax in my hands," Sigmund reported. "The difficult part of our conversation was the first five minutes, as you predicted. But I am not sure, I am not sure that he is the man for you, since he is both a bully and a coward."

"He's the only man there is," I replied.

Macro was a lean curly-headed fellow, with an eye that might sparkle, I thought, in other circumstances, and a discontented twist to his mouth. When he spoke of Sejanus, a bitter note entered his voice, which trembled a little, whether with fear or anger or a combination of these two closely allied emotions I could not say. But I could see that he was afraid of me also, and that was good. Indeed, my o nly danger was that his fear of Sejanus was such that he would betray me to him, despite the prospect of power and glory which 1 dangled before him.

He assured me that, even among the Praetorians, feelings against Sejanus ran high.

"Men say, 'Why is he favoured above us, when he is not better born?' Others, like myself, if I may say so, my lord…?"

"Don't address me in that manner."

"I'm sorry, I respect your sentiments of course. Well then, General, others like myself who have transferred to the Praetorians after long service with the northern legions are conscious that we have campaign medals and wide military experience, and are yet subservient to a man whose career has scarcely taken him to the front, who has never seen a real battle, but who has risen by, if you will forgive me, my lord — I mean, General — by political arts."

And then I summoned up courage — the hesitant, self-doubting courage of old age — and told him what I required of him.

He was both excited and terrified by the prospect, and I felt like a man who requires a six on a single throw of the dice.

When Macro left the island, I had Sigmund arrange with the master of a fishing-boat that it be held in readiness for me, if necessary; for I knew that, if Macro failed in his enterprise, I would have to flee my home, take refuge with the armies, and hope that I would there find a sufficient remnant of loyalty to rescue the position.

It was a beautiful October, my favourite month. I woke early on the appointed day. By that time Macro should have effected his liaison with the captain of the night-guard, Laco. He had asserted Laco was a man he would trust with his life, which is why we had chosen his term of duty. It was, of course, just what he was doing. I could eat nothing. The sun sparkled on the water below, and the air was crisp. Birds still sang in the gardens. The Senate would meet, I knew, in the Temple of Apollo on the Palatine, since the Senate House was being refurbished. Did this beautiful morning indicate that Apollo favoured our enterprise?

I had not written to Sejanus for ten days. That might have worried him. I had not been able to bring myself to write despite the necessity of keeping him easy. I could not trust myself to write, for memories of what I had felt for him assailed me. Anger would have entered my words. So I took this risk. But Macro would assure him that he had delivered a letter to the consul Memmius, who would act as president of the Senate, and that that letter announced the grant of the tribunician power for which he lusted. He would make his way to the Senate in expectation of glory.

Sigmund appeared on the terrace to tell me that the fishing-boat would be at my service from the middle of that afternoon.

"How will you fill the day?" he asked.

I had no answer, then or for any subsequent day.

He ordered that a litter be prepared and, without troubling himself to secure my assent, arranged that the household should picnic by the little temple of Apollo which stood on the mountain-top. The air is sweet there, with the scent of thyme, myrtle, marjoram and pine-needles. I let him have his way, but could eat nothing but a few black olives and some cheese. I dared not drink wine.

Memmius would read my letter aloud. Would he have the presence of mind to adapt it, as I had instructed, according to his perception of the mood of the Senate? I pictured Sejanus lolling in his seat, a proud confident lion, as my words of praise buzzed round his head. And then, alert, as I voiced my first criticism. How would the senators react to that?

Gaius began to laugh, an uncontrolled cackle. I glanced across. A lizard was trapped in a little crevasse. It had fallen in backwards, and its forepaws scrabbled desperately at the edge. Gaius prodded at them with a little jewelled dagger, and continued to laugh. I gestured to Sigmund, and he lifted the beast by its neck and shoulders and set it on top of a broken wall; it glanced around, alarmed, and then scurried out of sight. Gaius scowled.

After escorting Sejanus to the Senate, Macro had been instructed to hurry across the city to the Praetorian camp in the old Gardens of Lucullus, and reveal his commission as their new commander. On his way across Rome he would have picked up gold to deliver as the first instalment of a donative, from my banker. He had been nervous about this, but I insisted that it was necessary to give the soldiers tangible proof that I would reward their loyalty. Besides, any man who accepted the gold would be thoroughly compromised and would know that there was no turning back.

The sun climbed to its zenith. The air shimmered. It was the last heat of the year. I plucked a rose and pricked my finger on its thorn. Sigmund stretched out beside me in the shade of the pine trees. He lay on his back, looking up at the latticed sky. Then he closed his eyes and slept. Others of our party slept too. Gaius wandered off towards a shepherd's cottage. A dog barked in the distance, and a cock crew.

It would be over now, one way or another. My heart raced. I pressed my fingers against each other, taking a fierce satisfaction from the skeletal sensation.

To a man the senators, the majority of whom owed him favours and had fawned on his greatness, deserted my falling and former friend. They shrank back from him as if they saw in his disgrace the reflection of their own ignominy. But even so Memmius did not dare put my abrupt denunciation to the vote. Then Memmius called on Sejanus to stand. He did not move. The Senate sat in silent terror. The call was repeated. Sejanus remained motionless. At the third demand he stumbled to his feet to find Laco, the captain of the night-watch, ready at his side. Only when Laco placed a restraining arm on him did abuse break out. Then, the spell broken, the senators burst into a babble of accusation and insult.

I like to think he did not understand fully what was happening, that his comprehension was numbed by shock.

He was hustled out, down the ilex-fringed Clivus Palatinus, along the Sacred Way, with the mob apprised, as mobs always quickly are of great and terrible events, jostling him, cursing his tyranny, delighting in his disgrace. Women, it was reported, spat at him, men hurled horse-dung with their abuse. In this way he was bundled into the Mamertine prison under the Capitol and thrust down that narrow twisting stair to the ancient execution chamber of Rome.

By the order of the Senate, after a vote, he was strangled at the fourth hour after noon.

But I could not know this as the sun sank and the air grew cold, and I was jolted down the hillside, with my gaze fixed on the sea and the little harbour where the fishing-smack was pulled up on the shore.

I had requested that Sejanus be arrested. The Senate, without prompting, embarked on an orgy of revenge for the indignities they had so sychophantically endured at the hand of my fallen favourite. Neither his family nor his close associates were safe. Even his children were put to death at the Senate's command. After debate it was decided that his thirteen-year-old daughter should first be raped by the public executioner because the law forbade the execution of free-born virgins and, as one senator — a descendant, you will not be surprised to hear, of that pillar of Republican virtue, Marcus Porcius Cato — argued, to transgress this law would carry with it the risk of bringing misfortune on the city. As if we were not all steeped in misfortune!