One With the Darkness (23 page)

Incitatus was standing on a dais with his head in a golden bucket. He had apparently calmed down, and Livia wondered what was in the bucket. His bridle had been changed for a jeweled halter. In front of him Gaius Caesar reclined on a chaise lounge with Julia and Agrippina at his side. Julia wore no
stola
and her
palla
revealed one breast and much of her belly entirely. She was feeding Gaius bits of peacock tongue. A second chaise on his left, equal to Caesar’s, was occupied by an older woman, still attractive. A very comely male slave knelt, serving her.

Chaerea moved forward to greet the emperor and congratulate Incitatus. Livia noticed that Chaerea glared at Asiaticus, who stood just behind the emperor in a place of honor.

“Who is that?” Jergan whispered. “What woman sits as equal to the emperor?”

“His wife, of course.” She smiled at Jergan’s look of shock. “Caesonia. She’s his fourth.”

“She … she permits all this?”

“For a while she was a moderating influence. But now he routinely threatens to kill her and her children in most inventive ways as a dinner joke. So she dares make no protest.”

Livia saw Titus, looking unhappy, and several of the others. She couldn’t take refuge in their company. A slave girl, who appeared to be Egyptian, naked except for golden
rings in her nipples and a girdle of gold about her hips to match the little golden chains that bound her black hair, bowed her head and offered goblets. Livia took one. Jergan shook his head, glowering.

“Take it and smile, Jergan,” Livia said softly.

He pressed his lips together and took a goblet. He was apparently incapable of smiling.

“May I escort the Master and Mistress to a chaise?” the girl asked.

“Yes, please do,” Livia answered. The room was already crowded. “Someplace remote.”

“A thousand pardons, Mistress, but those seats were the first taken.”

Not surprising. They followed the slave girl. Livia noticed a definite dichotomy around the room. For the emperor’s intimates, the celebration was already in full swing. They were eating, laughing, drinking. But most of the senators were not in a merry mood. They sat picking at their plates, talking quietly among themselves. Good. They had seen their fate if Caligula continued. It wasn’t bad enough that he was accusing some of their number of treason to confiscate their estates. They were to be made a laughingstock. Worse than something that happened to someone else. Maybe now they would entertain the idea of a republic.

She saw Jergan’s eyes get big as they passed a niche. The curtains were pulled back. One of the slaves who had Caligula’s favor, a Greek named Helion, lounged inside. The man had pulled up his toga and bounced a tiny slave girl on his cock openly, as he lay drinking wine.

Jergan shot Livia a look of disgust. She put a hand on his arm and shook her head.

Their slave-girl guide was surveying the available places.

“Would the Mistress like one chaise or two?” She had correctly identified by her dress that Livia was the citizen.

“One,” she said. She wanted Jergan close tonight. The girl nodded and selected a double chaise softly upholstered in deep green and strewn with exotically embroidered pillows.

“Thank you, girl,” Livia said, and produced some coins. The slave bowed low, making the rings in her nipples swing, and withdrew. Livia settled herself on the chaise. Jergan looked too tense to sit. She took his hand and tugged him down.

“You’re not smiling.”

“How can one smile when it feels like we are in a giant serpent’s den?”

“One smiles so the serpent will not notice us by our scowls.”

“He keeps the city that rules the world trembling upon his next whim,” Jergan said, his eyes examining her face. At least he kept his voice low. Musicians strolled nearby with their flutes and harps. She didn’t think anyone would hear him.

“Yes.” She pulled him close and kissed his ear, taking the opportunity to whisper into it, “But not for long.” She straightened. A male slave brought a tray with a variety of tidbits on it and knelt beside them. He wore nothing but a small silk bag that held his genitals by a string around his waist and up between his buttocks. He was lithe and lean and submissive, no doubt just how the emperor liked them. She stabbed a preserved plum with the little metal spear provided and popped it into Jergan’s mouth, then took one for herself. The slave would kneel here before them until he was dismissed. She knew, though Jergan probably didn’t, that the slave would also obey any commands either of them might give as far as
sexual service was concerned. Even now such activity had begun in darkened corners. Jergan’s eyes narrowed in distaste.

She must take his mind off this.

“Tell me of Britannia,” she said, skewering him a small, spicy sausage from the plate the slave held.

“An island of barbarians, you would say,” Jergan said, chewing as he looked around. And she knew he was thinking that what he was seeing was far more barbaric than anything at home.

“Where do you live there?”

He turned his attention to her. That was better. “Centii is in the southwest.”

“And what did you do there? Before you were a soldier?”

“I worked the land. My father had many hectares under cultivation.”

“And you were the eldest son. So it would have come to you. Tell me of it.”

“It is a rich land. On the eastern shore there are oyster beds. In the west there are forests for wood, and then there are the rich plains, fed by a broad river.” His eyes got far away. “In the summer the grain nods in the sun. The sheep grow their wool. The trees bend with fruit.”

“It sounds like a good place. You will soon be back there.”

He sighed and nodded. His shoulders relaxed. He smiled at her. It was … tender. “Don’t think I don’t know what you are doing, Livia Quintus Lucellus.” His tone was mock severe, unlike his eyes.

“Well, someone has to keep you from rending anyone you can reach limb from limb.”

He took a skewer and stabbed her a slender morsel from the slave’s plate. “What is this?”

“A peacock tongue.” She popped it into her mouth.

A group of men got up from chaises just around Caligula and headed for a doorway.

Jergan was immediately alert. “Where are they going?”

“To vomit so they can eat more.”

He turned back to her, incredulous. “Can Rome afford such waste?”

“No. Rome has so many wastrels. That is different. Our poor still go hungry.” She turned toward the lithe slave. He would be well used before the night was over. “You may go. Send a slave with a tray of the heavier meats.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he said, bowing extremely low before he rose.

“He will never earn his freedom, will he?” Jergan asked.

“No. A slave’s master must allow it. And I would guess freeing slaves is not the emperor’s priority, though he has his favorites.”

“Then why did you give that slave girl coins?”

She bit her lip. “Mistaken optimism, I suppose.”

He saw her distress and reached to touch her hair. “You will never go mad from boredom or become a cynic.”

The fact that he accepted her made her eyes fill. That and the fact that what she was would stand between them forever. Even if he stayed with her, it would break her heart to see him age and die. A frisson of urgency went down her spine.

It doesn’t have to stand between you.

For Juno’s sake,
why
was she having these thoughts that seemed to dart into her head?

Another slave boy knelt in front of them, carryfng a
tray of meats. She shook her head to clear it and picked out a slab of beef for Jergan.

T
HE EVENING WORE
on. Jergan found speaking more difficult, though Livia tried to keep the conversation going. As the Romans grew drunker, what little decorum they had was overcome. Caligula’s cronies ordered slaves whipped for no apparent reason. Women kissed women. Men fondled men. Men and women caressed one another, eating and vomiting, sliding off to shadowed niches in groups of twos and threes. The slaves seemed to take it as their lot to service these decadent creatures sexually. It crossed Jergan’s mind that perhaps Livia had tamed him to be like them. He served her body, almost worshipped it. Was he so far from their subservience? That prickled at him. Had he given his soul to Livia even though she freed him?

Caligula stood suddenly, shaking with fury. The whole room stopped in mid-breath. The musicians fell silent.

“Do you plot against us?” he shrieked, sounding almost girlish.

The man who had been whispering to his neighbor on the emperor’s right was unfamiliar to Jergan. He rose, quaking. “No, my emperor! I am a loyal subject.”

“Chaerea!” Caligula shouted. “Take this man away. Asiaticus, confiscate his property immediately.”

The man began to blubber, bowing, apologizing for something he did not do.

“And bring his family to Rome.”

That was a death sentence, according to Livia. Jergan grew grim.

Some of the senators moved to go. Livia said that was an insult. They must be very angry about the horse.

“You,” Caligula shouted. “Sit down. Failure to honor Incitatus will be considered treason.”

The senators sat.

“Musicians!” The flute began a fluttery, off-key trill and the other instruments joined in. The music stabilized and covered the silence of the guests.

“Celebrate,” Caligula commanded, and sat, his face screwed into a petulant frown. He waved his hand and the guard took the blubbering senator away. Slowly the crowd forced themselves back to whatever they had been doing.

Chaerea materialized in front of their divan. “The emperor will accept congratulations now, Livia Quintus, from you and your freedman.” He gave her a meaningful look that Jergan didn’t understand. Was there something between these two? A beast growled inside his belly. He suppressed it. What was he doing? Feeling possessive of a Roman woman? Gods above, he had been
her
possession until yesterday.

Besides, Livia couldn’t have given herself to this dark wolf. She had said it had been a hundred years. But … that seemed impossible, too.

“Jergan,” she said, indicating he should follow her. “Stay close and be silent,” she whispered. She had courage. They picked their way through couples now returned to open copulation. She made obeisance in front of the dais where the emperor again lolled with his sisters. The air was heavy with his mood. The dark Praetorian captain hovered at their backs.

“Livia Quintus Lucellus, Your Imperial Majesty,” he intoned.

“Approach, Livia Quintus.” The emperor and his sisters perked up, showing dangerous interest. Asiaticus stood just behind the emperor with his iron gray hair and
air of wisdom. Jergan glanced over to Caesar’s wife. She had turned her back to the group near her chaise and was speaking to some older women.

“Congratulations to you, Caesar, and to Incitatus.” Livia bowed gracefully.

Jergan bent to one knee at a small signal from her, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him.
Honor the damned horse and leave, Livia
, he willed her. From the corners of his eyes he saw the sisters’ gazes rove over his body and grow hungry. How clever Livia had been to insinuate that he was diseased. Now if only Livia were as safe as he was….

“You were invited especially to see Incitatus invested today, Livia Quintus.” Caligula nodded graciously.
Why?
Jergan asked himself. Was it to accuse her, arrest her publicly?

“Thank you, Your Imperial Highness,” Livia murmured.

“Decimus Valerius Asiaticus thought you might be of special interest to us.” Asiaticus himself gave a tight smile and inclined his head.

Jergan swallowed. Had the emperor’s counselor guessed Livia’s secret? At the least, he knew how to harm her.

“I hardly dare hope that is true,” Livia said. She was covering her concern well.

“Our sisters also wanted to see your progress in breaking your slave.”

Jergan felt Livia grow even more wary beside him.

“We understand you have overcome your fear of disease.” Caligula smirked.

“What can His Imperial Majesty mean?” Her voice was humble.

“Only that we heard you had been using your slave.”

Jergan glanced up. Chaerea must have told Caesar
what he’d seen at Livia’s house this afternoon. Caligula’s sisters were really showing interest now. Julia Lavilla licked her lips.

Livia cleared her throat. “A momentary lapse I hope I shall not pay for.”

“More than momentary. We heard you use him day and night.”

This was bad. Only Livia’s servants knew that.

“Hardly, my emperor,” Livia said, deprecating.

“It would scarcely inconvenience you to loan him to us for a day or two. In the service of your emperor.” Agrippina’s voice was dulcet.

So much for protection, Jergan thought.

“Alas, he is no longer a slave. I cannot dispose of his services.”

“What?” Julia sat up.

“I registered his name yesterday. He is a freed man.”

Jergan could feel her willing him to silence. He wished he had his sword.

“Well, Sisters … We cannot confiscate him if he isn’t property.”

Agrippina tried again. “I knew she had freed him, dear brother. I had another aim. Your person is so precious to us after all. We want only to protect it.”

“Protect us?” Fear had crept into the emperor’s voice.

“We heard there was a plot against you among recently freed slaves. We thought to ferret out some intelligence about it.”

Caligula sat up, sloshing wine onto his white toga. “And you think …”

“We think, dear brother,” Julia soothed, “if he does not come willingly, you should arrest him and see what he knows.”

“Jergan has nothing to do with any plot!” Livia said through gritted teeth.

“Give him to us to question.” Julia Lavilla licked her lips again. “If we are not persuasive enough, we will give him over to the Guard.”

“He’s done nothing; I swear it,” Livia hissed.

“Silence,” Caligula shouted. The horse raised his head from his bucket, drooling red wine and oats. “Can’t you see we have a headache? All these plots,” he muttered, rubbing his temples.