Tiberius

by Allan Massie

  I wrote to Sejanus saying that I had heard rumours of mutterings against my authority, even of conspiracies against my person, among the officers of the Praetorians. I would be grateful to him if he would investigate this matter and, before acting, supply me with the names of any whom he had reason to suspect of such disaffection. He replied that he had absolute confidence in almost all these officers whom, he reminded me, he had himself appointed after the most careful scrutiny. Nevertheless any barrel might contain a bad apple, and he could not deny the presence of such. He mentioned a number of names, the chief of which, he said, was one Macro, a Calabrian, ". . . the sort of man who is discontented with life because no regard which he is paid can ever measure up to his own estimation of his qualities". Moreover, he added, this Macro had been a familiar of first Nero and now Gaius. He was an associate of some of those turbulent young men who had been inciting Gaius to disaffection, and to that treasonable course which he had been pursuing till my invitation to Capri temporarily removed him from such evil influences.

  "Sigmund," I said, and paused, unable to bring myself to ask him if he loved me, if 1 could trust him, if he would risk his life on my behalf. It has never been in my nature to make such requests of people; never since I was deprived of Vipsania. "Master," he replied, and waited. His lips curved into a smile.

  "Not 'Master'," I said. "Call no man 'Master', dear boy."

  I lay in bed, weak as from a nervous fever. The sunlight streamed into the chamber. It illuminated the golden down of the boy's cheek. I longed for the comfort of his strength, the reassurance of what I could never demand from him. I patted the bed, and indicated that he should perch there.

  "You are troubled," he said. "I have known that for a long time. Remember one thing: I owe everything I possess to you, even my life. I can never forget that. Whatever you desire of me, I shall do."

  His words shamed me. I think I wept to hear him speak like this. Certainly the easy tears of old age filled my eyes. For a little, I could not speak.

  "It is your life," I said, "that I may be asking of you again. But there is no one else whom I dare to trust. Do you fear Sejanus?"

  I did not look at him as I asked the question, so that I do not know if his face paled or his eye flashed.

  "No," he said, "I hate him, but that is different." "You hate him?"

  "He forced himself upon me. He made me do things which disgusted me." Sigmund blushed at the memory. "He told me that if I didn't, then he would tell you things which were not true but which he would make you believe. I said you wouldn't, but he assured me that he could always make you believe what he wanted you to believe even when you didn't want to. So, so he made a woman of me, and worse than a woman."

  There was nothing I could say of comfort. Things remain with you and cannot be cured by words. But my new anger with Sejanus was fiercer and it was enflamed or corrupted by jealousy or envy, for he had done what I had denied myself. And so I abandoned prudence and told Sigmund what I wanted him to do.

  Sigmund left the island the next day and journeyed to Rome. He travelled alone, and in disguise. I had given him an imperial pass as protection but told him that he must not use it except in extremity. It was better that his connection with me should be unsuspected. I gave him also my seal ring, and warned him that he would be in danger if it was found on his person, for it would be too easy to charge him with theft.

  He smiled: "I'll stick it up my arse," he said.

  I wished I could have brought myself to return his smile.

  In his absence I received another letter from Sejanus. He purred with pleasure at the honours I had showered on him, the most recent of which was his appointment to the priesthood of the Arval Brethren. He said he was overwhelmed by the honour I had paid him by proposing him as the successor of Germanicus and Drusus as my partner in the consulship. He hinted that the award of the tribunician power would make his satisfaction complete. He spoke of the delight he experienced in his marriage to Julia Livilla and his consciousness of his unworthiness to be a member of the imperial family. Then he announced that Nero was dead:

  The wretched prince seduced one of his guards and persuaded him to abet his escape from Pontia. The other guards suspected the liaison however and reported it to me. I commanded that a closer watch be kept, and the pair were apprehended as they embarked in a boat. A struggle ensued in which both were killed. I regret to have to inform you that Nero displayed lamentable cowardice in his last moments, and died pleading for his life like a woman.

  The arrogance of the letter disgusted me.

  "It seems," I said to Antonia, "that he no longer troubles himself even to make his story consistent."

  "Drusus will be next," she said, "then my poor Gaius, unless you act. . ."

  "What can I do?" I said, for I dared not reveal my plans even to Antonia. Nor could I bring myself to tell her that it was superfluous to murder Drusus. If the reports I received were to be believed, his sufferings had deprived him of his wits. He raved - foul-mouthed filth, mostly directed at me, but also at his mother Agrippina — and refused to eat.

  When Sigmund arrived in the city he went to a tavern in the Suburra kept by a German of his own tribe, who had been one of my slaves and whom I had established in this occupation after twenty years of honest, if infuriatingly stupid, service. (It is not true, by the way, that all Germans are stupid — some have a tiresome cunning, and some are, like Sigmund, indeed intelligent; yet Romans always think them stupid because even the most intelligent retain a naivety which is foreign to our nature. It arises, I think, from an inability to comprehend the complexity of civilised life and civilised beings, and manifests itself in a dreamy mooniness, which is certainly irritating, and of which even Sigmund is not innocent.)

  Sigmund explained to Armin the tavern-keeper that he was in hiding from the police. He knew that Armin would accept this as sufficient reason for subterfuge, but would be alarmed if Sigmund gave any hint of the importance of his mission. Then he explained that the matter could be cleared up if Armin would undertake to get a message to the Praetorian camp. This puzzled Armin who couldn't understand why a fugitive from the law should wish to make such a contact, but when Sigmund said his trouble was all a matter of misunderstanding, Armin nodded his head and agreed to arrange for an intermediary; misunderstandings were the sort of things which Armin could understand. Indeed misunderstandings had always seemed to permeate his life.

  So the message was delivered and Sigmund endured anxious hours while he waited to see if the fish would bite. I had instructed him to make the message cryptic; it was framed in such a way as to suggest to Macro that Gaius was threatened with danger and in his terror would denounce him unless he came to his assistance. I told him to put it in this way because there was always — I was sure — a germ of truth in the allegations which Sejanus brought against those whom he had determined to destroy, and I thought Macro would be frightened. I wanted him frightened. He would not dare to be my tool if he was not afraid.

  He arrived at the tavern by night, suspicious, heavy-eyed, still crapulous from last night's drinking-bout. When he found only a young German there, he suspected a trick and called for his guards. Sigmund, however, produced my ring. This, I had warned him, was his moment of greatest danger, for Macro might refuse to consider the implications of its being in his possession. Macro's first reaction was indeed to arrest him for theft. He began babbling of treason.

  "If you talk like that," Sigmund said, "you are baring your own neck for the sword. Sit down." The Praetorian sub-prefect obeyed.

  "If I had stolen it," Sigmund said, "I wouldn't be such a fool as to have made arrangements for you to come here, would I?"

  Macro scratched his head, and said he would like some wine.

  "This is a German house," Sigmund said, "you can have a mug of beer."

  Then he told him that Sejanus had written to me accusing him of treasonable conspiracy; he was involved in a plot with Gaius against my life.

  T
here was enough truth in this for Macro to start trembling.

  "The emperor instructed me to inform you," Sigmund said, "that he believes less than half of what he has been told. He has sent me to fetch you to give you an opportunity to put yourself in the right. He says you must immediately arrange for leave and accompany me secretly to Capri."

  "Secretly?"

  "Of course . . ."

  Macro scratched his cheek and took a long pull of his beer.

  "Don't you have a letter?"

  "That's a foolish question."

  "How do I know this is not a trick?"

  "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 only 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 th
ey 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!

  10

  On the day after I received news of Sejanus' death, I mounted the little hill behind my villa to the place where I had encountered the godlike boy who had promised me peace of mind in exchange for my reputation. I wished to upbraid him for cheating me, since I had sacrificed one without gaining the other. But he did not attend me on this occasion. Instead a chill wind blew from the north, and the sky turned grey as a pigeon's back.

  Sejanus appeared to me in dreams, his swollen tongue protruding through black lips, and the reproach in his eyes which he could not utter. I woke weeping, and trembling. The half-sleep which was permitted me was disturbed and made miserable by dreams in which beauty was cruelly tortured and men and women shrieked accusations at me. I crouched in a corner, a blanket pulled over my head, while the tramp of angry feet sounded around me, and voices demanded a painful and ignominious death.