Luke Devenish - Nest of vipers

She smiled wickedly at me. 'The second queen?'

I could only stand there with my mouth open.

'All that time worrying about Tiberius's successor, when really we should have been worrying about my own.'

' Your successor, domina?'

'Indeed. Which descendant from my womb will be Empress of Rome?' Livia winked at me. 'That's the real position of power, of course, and of so much greater interest to the goddess. But you already know that, don't you, Iphicles?'

I realised I did. 'Who is this second queen?' I whispered in awe.

She told me.

We reached the great temple's steps and Livia began to ascend, with me following her. 'Where do you think you're going?' she demanded.

I was still reeling and couldn't answer.

'I warned you about all this spelling out — I've had enough of it,' she said. 'For the final time you are no longer Attis, therefore you cannot come in here. The shrine of Cybele is no longer open to you, slave.'

Crushed, I begged her for final enlightenment. 'Just tell me who I am, domina. Which temple is my own?'

She pulled the veil from her face and held it before her, as light as gossamer. 'The winds will direct you to it,' she said. 'I'm afraid I've lost all patience.' She turned on her heel, letting the hillside breeze snatch the veil from her hand and take it high in the air. Confounded, I heard Livia laughing at me as I went to run after it.

Exhausted, I stood staring in dismay at where the veil had come to rest. 'This is no temple, domina!' I yelled with frustration. It was Calypso's Spell, a dilapidated brothel in the Subura. My heart sank as I realised Livia was still playing jokes to torment me. I was indeed cretinous for believing a floating veil could illuminate anything.

A familiar head stuck out of the brothel door. 'Gods help me — it's the ball-less stud.'

'Lena?' It was the brassy madam from Circe's Enchantments.

'So, how do I look? Do you like my new wig?'

I couldn't muster any comment.

'Charming. It's a third-rate wig, I admit, but it's all I could afford.' She hooked a thumb at the sordid shop front. 'My circumstances are reduced. I lost my best whores in that cave-in.'

Too disappointed, I didn't pay attention to the rest of Lena's story, even when she offered me a discount for old times' sake. With the madam still talking at me, I wandered away, leaving the veil where it lay in the mud.

Veiovis

May, AD 33

Eighteen months later: Emperor Tiberius Julius Caesar Augustus upbraids the Senate for approving the inclusion of a newly unearthed book of Sibylline oracles in the official prophecies

Mimicking Agrippina's inflections perfectly, Little Boots read his mother's latest letter aloud. It was filled with jokes and asides, Forum and theatre gossip, and plenty of tidbits about Oxheads. Agrippina had proven herself a dedicated correspondent since her apparent release from imprisonment. Reclining on a terrace couch together, with the sisters Drusilla and Julilla nearby, Tiberius and Antonia adored Agrippina's uncharacteristically amusing communications.

'"And so I can confirm that my life of retirement here is a joyful, if quiet one now,"' Little Boots read out, coming to the end. '"Beautiful Nilla is more in love with her Ahenobarbus than ever, and we all share their hopes for a healthy child to heal the wound left in their hearts from the baby that died."'

Antonia nodded. 'Such a relief about Nilla,' she said, patting Tiberius's hand. 'I had once feared they were ill-suited.'

Tiberius smiled, benignly, his eyes far away.

'"Until next I write, my dear Little Boots, please give my heartfelt wishes to the Emperor, in whose loving heart I know you prosper. I thank the gods for the role of father he plays in your life. He is our greatest Roman, so just and wise. And I am ever your devoted mother, Agrippina."'

Little Boots glanced at his sisters. Their faces held little expression. But Antonia brushed tears from her eyes. 'So moving,' she said. 'And after all she suffered at Sejanus's hands. Now her life is whole again, and your brother Drusus, too.'

'We have so much to be grateful for, Grandmother,' Little Boots nodded. 'But Drusus has been tardy with his own letters this month.'

'Perhaps one will come from him tomorrow,' suggested Antonia.

Little Boots smiled, but avoided his sisters' eyes. 'I can almost feel it.'

Tiberius's glassy smile shifted. 'Well, now, perhaps a stroll, dear friend?' he said to Antonia. Stretching his withered limbs, he got up from the couch they shared. 'After all this happy news, shall we digest it in the sun?'

'Very nice,' said Antonia, linking her arm in his as she stood.

Tiberius took a cup from a tray. 'I'd better carry this foul stuff with me,' he grimaced. 'Doctor's orders.'

At the terrace periphery the physician Charicles bowed.

'It smells so disgusting.' Antonia wrinkled her nose with a dark look at the obsequious Greek. 'You are very cruel to your Emperor to insist he drinks such a brew,' she admonished Charicles.

'For Caesar's weak lungs,' the physician murmured, bowing again. A trickle of urine ran down his leg. Charicles read the pointed look that Little Boots gave him and he hobbled away. Oblivious, Tiberius and Antonia strolled among the early spring blooms.

As Little Boots returned to the villa, he heard Drusilla behind him.

'I am so grateful that our mother is free and well again,' she said. 'And our brother, too.'

'We have much to thank the gods for,' Little Boots agreed.

'Even though, hurtfully, they write only to you…'

Not for the first time, Little Boots sought to hide his dreadful secret by making excuses for the apparent neglect. But Drusilla stopped him. Her look was bold and direct. 'Would I be right, brother, in guessing that the brew for our grandfather's "weak lungs" contains the strange draught that once so altered his mind?'

'Drusilla!' Little Boots's attempt to look shocked was so unconvincing that his sister only laughed at him.

'Just as I thought — he's pathetic,' said Drusilla. 'And that pants-wetting doctor is in on it too.'

Little Boots squirmed.

'Oh, don't worry,' said Drusilla. 'I know you're up to something, but I won't tell anyone — especially Grandmother Antonia.'

Little Boots narrowed his eyes at his sister. 'What do you want, Drusilla?'

She parted her lips, running her fingers across the fabric of her stola bodice. 'I want to drink it again — I so enjoyed it last time.'

Her brother was stripped of words for some moments. 'You remember it from last time?'

'Of course I do. Bits of it, anyway. And what I do recall… well, it was really rather nice. Wasn't it, brother?'

Little Boots vowed to obtain Drusilla some more of the draught — and more again, if she wished for it.

Through the grate in the cell door, I watched with dispassion as the transvestite Drusus went mad.

'They were trying to starve me, Iphicles — or that's what I thought.'

'Starve you? Surely not, domine,' I said, making notes on a tablet with my stylus.

He was naked, caked in filth, his young bones sharp against his skin. He could no longer see, so I had lied to him, claiming it was night. 'That's what I thought,' he said. 'No food had come for days. I feared they wanted me to die in here for the lack of it.'

'But that seems unnecessarily cruel, domine,' I said, thinking of how his aunt Livilla had been found dead with her face missing, chewed off by Scylax.

'But I was wrong,' Drusus laughed, 'wrong all along. There was a wonderful meal in my cell the whole time.' He put another piece of mattress stuffing into his mouth. 'Delicious,' he declared.

'Very good, domine,' I smiled at him. 'Shall we return to the story of your life now?'

'Why not?' Drusus replied, swallowing.