Empress Of Rome 1: Den Of Wolves

by Luke Devenish

  Now fifteen years old, Tiberius Nero fell back onto the wool-padded mattress and stared at the passing sky, willing his adolescent erection away. Having reached the age of manhood and passed it, he was cursed with permanent ardour – as was I at that time, being barely older than he was. But Tiberius Nero’s likelihood of satisfying his lust was only marginally better than mine, which was very poor indeed. The seventeen-year-old Livia enjoyed denying him her charms until such a point that he was driven to sniffing around my own hindquarters. Then she would finally bestow her largesse but have him believe she disliked it.

  I knew better from long observation. From my ‘favoured slave’s’ position, perched at the end of their carriage with my legs dangling over the side, I stole another glance behind me and caught Livia teasingly allowing her nipple to show itself anyway. But Tiberius Nero was unaware, his eyes on the thin clouds as the travelling carriage and retinue of foot slaves made slow progress through the dusty plain beyond Sicyon. But he couldn’t get his mind off lust.

  ‘Fulvia will have a fine bed for us,’ he said.

  ‘My back feels like it’s broken,’ said Livia, waiting for him to notice her nipple.

  He remained blind. ‘Will you let me enjoy you when we get there?’

  I awaited her answer as eagerly as he did. With my gaze again fixed on the train of foot slaves, I didn’t need to see Livia to know that she deliberately stretched herself on her buffer of cushions and silks before she answered him.

  ‘I’m still too sore – another month yet. The physician insisted on it, remember.’

  Their little son, named Tiberius after my young master, was asleep in the arms of the wet nurse Hecuba, who shared my perch. Livia had managed to play on Tiberius Nero’s squeamishness about the agonies of childbirth beyond the point that a worldlier husband would have accepted. He longed to couple with her again but was too fearful of her health.

  He cast a quick, frustrated glance at her and finally noticed her nipple – just as I turned again too. The desire to sink his teeth into it was clearly overwhelming him but he managed to restrain himself. Livia kept her eyes coyly closed and, not daring to do anything but stare, Tiberius Nero kept his conversation on Fulvia.

  ‘She’ll have new plans when we get there. I’ll be fascinated to hear them.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Livia.

  ‘She will have been raising new forces, no doubt.’

  ‘How could she? Octavian will be having her watched.’

  ‘Octavian is frightened of her – and frightened of Antony – that’s why he didn’t kill Fulvia when he defeated her. She’ll be growing her strength again covertly. He won’t even know.’

  ‘She is remarkable.’

  ‘I will pledge my allegiance to her again, of course,’ said Tiberius Nero. ‘She will expect that, won’t she?’

  ‘And I will support you.’

  He trailed off, held by the coppery disk of her teat against the milk white flesh. ‘I wonder if she will have aged very much?’ he said after a little interval.

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘Do you think her beauty will have lessened since we last saw her?’

  Livia opened her eyes and caught the quick flush of exposure that touched his cheeks. ‘Does she arouse you?’ she asked in surprise.

  Tiberius Nero stumbled a second too long and then didn’t have the right words at hand to deny it.

  Livia abruptly sat up among the cushions. ‘Well, I suppose I can’t blame you for that,’ she said after a moment. ‘Better I blame myself I suppose. Or Juno, for allowing me to become a mother.’

  Tiberius Nero was blushing furiously. ‘You misunderstand me; she is very commanding for a woman and very admirable. She has inspired thousands of men to fight against Caesar’s nephew – it is not arousal, Livia. It is loyalty.’

  She said nothing, merely raising her eyebrow. Compounding his shame, Tiberius Nero’s erection refused to deflate under his tunica. Then, to his complete astonishment, Livia placed her hand upon it. He looked at her with a desperate hope in his eyes but Livia just appraised him coolly with her night dark eyes.

  ‘Have you ever propositioned Fulvia, Tiberius Nero?’

  He gasped under her touch. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘She is twice my age – a matron!’

  ‘But you aren’t displeasing without your clothes. You know you’re not.’

  Tiberius Nero looked so stricken with shame and embarrassment that she guessed at something she would never have suspected before this carruca ride. ‘Did Fulvia once proposition you …?’

  He cringed.

  Livia was astonished – as was I, now staring at him openly.

  ‘When did that happen – ?’ she demanded, pulling her hand away from him.

  He then misread the intensity in her face, thinking it was jealousy. ‘Before Perusia, before the terrible siege,’ he said with a proud little smile. ‘When she was still in Rome and things were going well for our faction.’

  Livia just stared at him. ‘Did it happen inside our house?’

  ‘It happened in hers. I was asked to lunch. I thought there would be lots of other men invited but there wasn’t. There was only me.’

  I saw that it wasn’t jealousy in Livia’s face at all. She was making calculations; assessing and negating risk.

  ‘How did she bring up the idea?’ she asked him carefully.

  ‘She didn’t – she is far too highborn.’

  ‘Then how did you know what she wanted from you?’

  ‘It was in her eyes …’ said Tiberius Nero, conveying what he hoped was the very same look.

  Livia paused, not pulling away from his gaze. ‘Did you let her seduce you?’

  He attempted to smile mischievously.

  ‘Tiberius Nero?’

  ‘Would you be angry if I did …?’

  But he was so unconvincing that Livia burst out laughing, guessing he had actually fled from the randy Fulvia like a frightened rabbit. Tiberius Nero clenched his teeth in anger and I saw a wave of violent thoughts crash over him. Then Livia returned her hand to his loins and he was the rabbit once more as she began to gently knead him.

  ‘Please, Livia,’ he whimpered under her hand.

  A pensive smirk split her pert little mouth. ‘Pleasuring you would be destructive, wasteful and foolish,’ she said.

  ‘But it’s been so long since I’ve known pleasure.’

  ‘For Fulvia it’s been longer,’ said Livia. She flicked his penis head like an insect and removed her hand for good.

  ‘Ow! Why do you always have to be so ill-natured?’

  ‘Wash that bit of you properly as soon as we get there.’

  He was incredulous. ‘You can’t speak to me like that – ‘

  By no means for the first time, Livia simply dismissed him like a bossy big sister. ‘We’re in exile. Our fathers killed Caesar and Caesar’s nephew wants to kill us. Our wealth has been stolen, our property confiscated, and we can’t return to Rome. But Fulvia will be marshalling new forces – she hates Octavian as much as we do – and maybe she’ll have Antony’s help this time. So we have one last opportunity to better ourselves by joining the centre of new power.’

  ‘I know all this – don’t lecture me,’ Tiberius Nero sulked.

  Livia gave a little wave to their infant son, who stirred slightly in Hecuba’s fat arms before falling asleep again. ‘Look at our boy,’ she said.

  ‘I see him,’ said Tiberius Nero, but his voice had a sullen edge.

  ‘One day he might be a king.’

  ‘Yes. Yes.’ Tiberius Nero willed himself to believe it, but in his present circumstances he found it hard to have faith.

  ‘The first will be he who nests for the cuckoo,’ Livia quoted the long-ago words.

  On my perch at the end of the carruca I grew uneasy. Whenever she talked of the prophecies to Tiberius Nero I could never be sure if she was secretly mocking him or not. I remembered her declared conviction t
hat Tiberius Nero couldn’t possibly be the sire.

  ‘What does “nests for the cuckoo” really mean?’ Livia asked him.

  ‘You’ve asked that many times and I’ve never come up with an answer you’ve liked.’

  ‘Because they were all such negative answers – cruel baby cuckoos throwing out the young of other birds from the nest. The words must mean something good.’

  Tiberius Nero had nothing to add.

  After a few more moments of silence, Livia returned to their original topic. ‘Fulvia likes you,’ she whispered.

  ‘I lost my nerve and ran away from her lunch. She won’t like me in that way again.’

  ‘But you’re so much handsomer now. She’ll like you even more.’

  He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Livia …’

  ‘What? If it means you have to stud yourself to make us strong again then isn’t that what you should do?’

  ‘Livia!’

  ‘You really don’t think so?’

  The sexual frustration was all too much for Tiberius Nero and a wet milky stain suddenly appeared in the fabric of his lap. He had spontaneously ejaculated without her hand being anywhere near him.

  Livia grimaced. ‘Oh, forget about it. Just forget about it.’

  I passed my young master a scrap of linen and he gave a long-suffering sigh as he mopped himself. ‘No, it’s a very good idea, Livia,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll restore myself by the time we get there and then I’ll seduce her. And then we’ll be right in the middle of things again, won’t we?’

  ‘Good,’ she said, rolling onto her side. ‘But make sure she’s begging for it first.’

  Although I would have put my eyes out for saying so, it seemed to me, even from my worthless position as slave, that my young dominus and domina were being dangerously naïve. But with no elders left to guide them, their destinies were their own. I understood this keenly, for my own destiny was entirely theirs too.

  But Livia must have seen the flash of doubt in my face for she suddenly sat upright again. ‘Do you have something to say, Iphicles?’

  ‘No, domina,’ I said.

  She stared at me a long time and I knew that she was shocked. I had never before allowed myself to reveal a doubt about anything she decided – probably because this was the first time I had ever truly doubted her at all. That was why I so badly betrayed it. I gamely kept my eyes downcast, only holding out my hand to Tiberius Nero for the square of linen. Then Livia’s angry foot lashed out from where she lay, catching me in the ribs. I tumbled backwards from the carruca to land hard in the dusty road. The foot-slaves fanned around me, continuing to follow our masters. Bruised and shaken, I somehow managed to pick myself up again and ashamedly held my new position at the very rear.

  As our entourage arrived at the decrepit stone dwelling that we had been told was the ‘Legate’s Palace’, a little girl dressed in rags opened the gate of the perimeter wall and looked at us with staring eyes. Then she threw herself into the dust with such force that she knocked the wind from her lungs. My impression was that the child was half-witted – which not only made her a poor introduction to Fulvia’s new residence, but an insulting one.

  Startled, Livia looked to her husband as the child heaved and gasped, unable to draw the air back. Tiberius Nero looked to me as the slave whose task it was to deal with unpleasantness.

  ‘Do something.’

  I passed the parasol I held over Livia’s head to another slave and tried to look authoritative as I bent over the writhing girl.

  ‘Breathe,’ I insisted, as if that would put her to rights.

  The girl’s face turned the colour of berries.

  ‘Breathe.’ I thumped her hard between her shoulder blades.

  ‘The girl is dying,’ said Tiberius Nero. ‘Find another slave to announce us.’

  I looked into the shadowy corners of the so-called palace’s entrance yard. There was no-one to be seen. ‘We arrive!’ I bellowed into the void.

  There was no reply.

  ‘Tiberius Claudius Nero and his party have arrived to see the Revered Lady Fulvia of the Antonii!’ I called. My words echoed around the walls and then were swallowed by silence.

  ‘They must have lied to us in the town,’ Livia concluded. ‘This is not Fulvia’s home at all. How could it be?’

  ‘It’s way beneath her,’ Tiberius Nero agreed, taking in the squalid ruin. ‘Let’s go back.’

  The travelling party of slaves began to pick up their burdens again as Livia and my young master returned to their carriage. Then the little girl sat upright.

  ‘Welcome, Marcus Antonius,’ she spluttered.

  Everyone turned and stared at her again.

  ‘What did you call me?’ said Tiberius Nero, about to climb inside the carruca.

  ‘Welcome, Marcus Antonius,’ the girl repeated, looking at him beseechingly.

  ‘I am Tiberius Claudius Nero,’ he clarified.

  Clearly she had heard him but failed to understand what was said to her. ‘My Lady expects you, my master,’ she said, springing to her feet and running towards him, trying to pull him inside by the hand.

  Tiberius Nero looked extremely uncomfortable with the contact and tried to shake her off until I ran forward and slapped the child’s hand away.

  ‘We made a mistake,’ I said to her. ‘We have come to the wrong house. Leave my dominus alone so that we can depart again.’

  ‘You don’t want to see my Lady at all?’ said the child, going white at the thought.

  Livia studied her. ‘Who is your Lady?’ she asked.

  ‘Fulvia,’ said the girl. ‘And she has been waiting for so long. Sometimes she cries about it.’

  Tiberius Nero received a loaded look from his wife. ‘But I am not Antony,’ he said to the girl, his temper fraying.

  Livia took hold of the situation, smiling sweetly at the child. ‘The Lady Fulvia is inside then?’

  ‘In her bed.’

  ‘Where are all her slaves?’

  ‘There is only one – and she is with my Lady.’

  ‘And who are you?’

  ‘I am Hebe,’ the girl said. Her status and relationship to Fulvia were unclear.

  Livia turned to Tiberius Nero. ‘We’ve got the right house.’

  He was incredulous. ‘But it’s a terrible place. Why would she want to live here?’

  Livia thought this was obvious.

  Tiberius Nero went very quiet. ‘This is her “exile”?’

  ‘Perhaps she had no more money. At least we have a little gold on us. We can rent something far better.’

  Tiberius Nero’s face suddenly creased up, ready to weep.

  ‘Don’t,’ she said.

  He stopped himself, nodding.

  ‘Will you take Marcus Antonius to see his wife?’ Livia asked Hebe.

  The little girl nodded, pleased, and reached out for Tiberius Nero’s hand again. ‘My Lady will be so happy. She has dreamed about you coming to see her every day. She always tells me about it.’

  Livia took Hebe’s other hand and they walked across the entrance yard towards the open front door of the main building. The other structures that rimmed the interior of the perimeter looked uninhabitable. Several were missing roofs. I followed four steps behind, waving back the other slaves from our retinue that attempted to trail us.

  ‘Your Lady misses her husband badly?’ asked Livia, making conversation.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Hebe.

  ‘Have any of her friends come here to visit?’

  Hebe thought this a very odd thing to ask.

  ‘Her old friends from Rome?’ Livia pressed. ‘Have they paid a call?’

  We passed through the low front door of the main building to enter a high-roofed hall – called a megaron by the Greeks, or ‘hall of honour’. But there was nothing honourable about the squalor we found within.

  ‘Is a friend like a slave?’ Hebe sought to know.

  ‘Not quite,’ said Livia.

  ‘Oh.’
r />   Tiberius Nero passed his wife a dismayed look at the horrid surroundings.

  ‘What about Fulvia’s children,’ Livia continued. ‘Has Clodia been?’

  Hebe just looked at her blankly.

  Livia turned her full attention to the filthy room. The whole dwelling was built to some forgotten Grecian standard; an affront to Romans. The remnants of an open fire scarred the centre of the earthen floor. The bare walls and timber ceiling were blackened with decades of smoke. The stink of baked animal fat from the fire mixed with that of unwashed linen from the slave’s pallet that lay in front of the embers. Another smell rose sharp in our nostrils as we walked further inside: human excrement. There were little logs of shit in a corner – Hebe had clearly been given no training in the use of a lavatory.

  ‘The only one who has visited is the old slave woman,’ said Hebe, looking awkward now as she saw the stark disapproval we gave to the room.

  ‘Who is the old slave woman?’ Livia asked.

  ‘I don’t know her name, but she’s very kind. She comes all the way from Egypt.’

  Livia gave Tiberius Nero a pointed glance, but he missed the significance. ‘Will you announce us to your Lady so that she can receive her husband,’ she asked Hebe.

  ‘You can just go in. She’s asleep, but you can wake her up.’

  Tiberius Nero made his opposition to this plain. ‘Your mistress is a very great lady,’ he said to Hebe. ‘It would be very wrong for us to wake her up – it would offend her dignity. You have to wake her up for us, so that she can prepare herself.’

  Hebe looked uncertain. ‘But she’s got her gown on – she’s not nude. And her hair’s brushed too.’

  ‘Just go in and do it,’ said Tiberius Nero, snapping.

  The little girl ran off into one of the darkened rooms that led off from the dirty megaron.