Luke Devenish - Nest of vipers

Then he gripped his sword in his fingers and plunged it into his chest.

My domina let the little white ball loll upon her tongue, feeling it there and enjoying the sensation of its textured surface. It was hard and strong, but not so strong that it wouldn't shatter if she bit it. She was gentle with this thing — it was precious.

Livia's mouth filled with spittle and the desire to swallow was strong, but this special thing could not be eaten. A string of drool left her lips, gathering at her chin and I saw it — although at this time I had no idea of what she harboured.

'Look at you, domina,' I chastised.

I mopped her face and she wouldn't look at me as I did so. I took this for shame on her part and returned to my place at the wall, feeling the little blue vial safely in the pocket of my tunica as I began to snooze.

My domina waited until my eyes were closed before allowing the little white ball to slip beneath her tongue. There it rested, safe and warm. She had nestled such a thing with her body once before, long ago, when she had mothered a chicken's egg cupped in her hands until a tiny rooster emerged. This new thing was also an egg, and Livia had the will to mother it for the many months required until a very different beast would emerge.

It would be a test of her endurance, but she would pass. She had to.

The baby within this egg would be her saviour.

The Day of Ill Omens

October, AD 21

One month later: the anniversary of the Battle of Arausio

Only those who have never known true disaster use a word like 'catastrophe' with ease, applying it to trivial matters — a ruined hairstyle, an oil-stained gown, a malaria plague in the slave quarters. But those who have suffered through calamity at its worst and survived it remember forever the day that it befell them; the horrors and loss are seared into their minds. If there are enough survivors — and for many catastrophes, this has not been so — the date passes into the shared memory of a nation. In Rome we declare dies nefasti — days of ill omens — when true catastrophes occur. They become annual dates marked on the calendar — to be feared.

On an official level the courts are suspended on the nefasti, and the Senate too; no voting may take place. On an unofficial level some people choose not to leave their beds, spending the day with covers drawn across their faces or in the company of distracting slaves. Others polish their household gods — the Lares and Penates — and say urgent prayers to their family's genius, the spirit that is passed down from their ancestors. But others still — younger people, mostly, and those blessed with arrogance and a belief in their own indestructibility — laugh in the face of such measures and go about their business as they would on any other day.

The third day before the Nones of October is the anniversary of the Battle of Arausio, one of the blackest dies nefasti of them all. On this day, one hundred and twenty-six years before the events I am about to detail, one of the greatest catastrophes in history befell Rome. Two vast armies of the Republic ranged themselves against the marauding Germanic tribes of the Cimbri and the Teutoni. The two armies of Rome had two great commanders, Caepio and Maximus, whose bitter personal feud prevented the armies from cooperating. The debacle that ensued saw the destruction of both commanders and over eighty thousand Roman men.

Livilla counted herself among those Romans who paid no heed to dies nefasti. The greatest military loss that Rome had ever known meant nothing to her. Instead, she was merely startled to find the eunuch in the hall.

'Lygdus? Are you serving us again?'

The crouching eunuch's hands hovered over her street shoes, not daring to touch yet. 'If my domina allows it.'

'Aren't you attending my grandmother?'

'Of course.' He raised his face and made a shy smile at her. 'But I miss my domina.'

Livilla rolled her eyes. 'What are we to do with you?' But she didn't move her feet when Lygdus's moist, fat fingers made contact. She allowed him to slip off her shoes.

'Perhaps I can serve two great ladies?' he whispered.

'That depends upon your master,' Livilla said, closing her eyes and sinking into a chair as Lygdus began to gently rub her feet. In truth, she had missed her attentive slave and had no intention of objecting to Livia being abandoned.

Carrying her purchases from the textile market, Livilla's maids slipped past the eunuch's bulk — one of them deliberately kicked him in the rump as she did, displeased to see him back. Lygdus barely felt it. 'What a pleasure it is to comfort you, domina,' he breathed into Livilla's toes.

She half-opened one eye and saw that Lygdus had filled a footbath. 'That looks very inviting,' she sighed. 'You think of everything. Pull it over here so that I can bathe my feet in it.'

Lygdus stiffened. 'I have this balm instead, domina.' He held up a little earthenware pot. 'It is soothing and sweet smelling.'

'Can't I bathe my feet first?'

'Try this wonderful balm — it is one of the domina Livia's.'

Livilla opened both her eyes. 'Why fill a bath for me and then not use it?'

Lygdus pressed his face into the floor. 'It is not filled for my domina,' he mumbled with the deepest apology. 'It is for my dominus. '

There was a long pause, and Lygdus felt his breath condensing on the floor mosaic.

'Is he home?' Livilla asked.

'Not yet,' said Lygdus. 'The dominus is out with his nephews.'

A dab of something cold touched Livilla's arch. She shivered. Then Lygdus's caring hands began to smooth the cream into her skin. The chill of it soon went away. 'The balm,' Lygdus said.

Livilla smelled the scent of roses. 'It is very nice,' she murmured, closing her eyes once more.

Lygdus cast a quick glance at the brimming footbath in the corner. He applied another dab of balm to Livilla's heel, making the scent of roses stronger. He breathed in deep — and Livilla did the same. 'The perfume is exquisite, isn't it, domina?'

'I adore roses,' Livilla sighed.

Lygdus sighed too — with relief. The wisps of steam from the footbath would go undetected. The eunuch had not felt wholly confident in the lies he would have told Livilla, had she asked him why the master's bathwater smelled of nettles and sour apples.

Saturnalia

December, AD 21

Two months later: Sacrovir of the Aedui, the leader of the Gallic rebellion, commits suicide at Augustodunum in the face of certain defeat

The first crack in the shell awoke my domina at once. In the blackness of her room, while my soft snores came from the pallet near her bed, Livia felt the egg turn beneath her tongue of its own accord. The crack widened. The beast was being born. Gently, Livia let the egg rise to rest upon the surface of her tongue, so that the tiny thing inside could fill her mouth when the moment came. She opened her lips, letting the night air play upon her teeth and gums while the creature struggled within.

The beast flexed itself, pressing hard against its prison and gaining strength, forcing itself free. Excitement threatened to claim Livia, but she willed herself to stay silent, making no sound that would betray the indescribable happiness she felt. The crack in the shell widened again. The beast pushed with all its might and a lid was made. The egg opened and the beast's head emerged. The tiny thing took its first breath of the scented night air.

On my pallet I stirred, as if aware in my dreams that something marvellous and new had entered the world. ' Domina…' I breathed in my sleep. 'Are you all right, domina?'

The beast in Livia's mouth went still. When I made no more sound, Livia opened her lips wide in the dark. The smell of desert sands emerged, the smell of heat and wind and beating desert sun. The newborn beast slipped past her lips and took its first view of the world. In the blackness of the room it looked around itself with cunning, vicious eyes. It was a viper, a night adder — a beast of darkness and death.