Plague of Angels (15 page)

“Before I kill you,” Caligula said as Tiberius gasped beneath him, “I want you to know that I will destroy everything you have made. Everything you have willed I will take and every memory of you I will erase.” He pushed the pillow down again, holding it longer. When he pulled it away, Tiberius’s mouth was wide and opening and closing like a fish. For a moment, it seemed the man had drawn his last. Then air wheezed back into his lungs.

Caligula smiled wider. “Everything you have touched I will defile and everyone you loved I will have put to death.” He shoved the pillow against Tiberius’s face again but didn’t hold it there. Instead, he dismounted from the man’s chest and took Nyx by the hand.

“Kill him,” said Caligula to Marko, not looking back. “I’ll be in my room, entertaining.”

Marko mounted the old man’s chest as Caligula led Nyx out. Those in the hallway saw him leading a slave girl, no doubt to have his way with her. Caligula led her into his own chamber and closed the door. Before she could say anything, Caligula knelt before her.

“My immortal Nyx,” he said. “How may I serve you?”

Nyx smiled and raised him to his feet. “In so, so many ways.”

39 A.D. – Rome

Nyx, wearing the body and clothes of a young Roman nobleman, stood with a half-dozen others in the Emperor’s box, watching Caligula simultaneously enjoying the slaughter of the criminals down below and the attentions of the woman who knelt in front of him, her head bobbing up and down on his sex. Beside her, standing rigid with his mouth tight, was the man whose wife was servicing Caligula.

“She is marvelous at this,” Caligula said to the Senator. “You must be very pleased with her.”

The Senator looked ready to explode, but only said, “Yes, Emperor.”

The young emperor was certainly mad to bait the senators like this. Still, Caligula had been wonderful for Nyx. He was her devoted servant, and his love of her temples of pleasure and plenty made her more popular than ever. He built, at his own expense, beautiful temples dedicated to Nyx throughout the city, and made sure only the most lovely men and women served as acolytes, priests, and musicians. Others in the city’s circles of power saw where the Emperor’s interest lay, and became followers as well. Nyx was brought gold and gems, wheat, wine and olive oil, and spring lambs. Her priests distributed the food to the poor and used the money to spread her worship.

Unfortunately, Caligula was not nearly as good to his people.

His parties turned into orgies of torture and debasement. He was known for his cruelty in his judgements and his unreasonable taxes on the people. And he had a penchant for the wives of other rich, powerful men, and that one he flaunted because he could.

Caligula had tried to bring his excesses into Nyx’s temple, but only once. The temple itself had shaken, killing two of his guards. Nyx then sent him a set of nightmares and visions, threatening him death unless he submitted himself to a half-dozen gladiators to be used as Tiberius had used him. Caligula had done as she’d asked, then had the men’s tongues cut out and tortured them for weeks before sending them to the lions.

Nyx, who knew the men in question were all murderers, really didn’t feel that bad about it.

Caligula was Emperor, but she was a Goddess, and he wasn’t going to be allowed to forget it. Her temples were for sexual pleasure, not for pain. She had the finest musicians playing, the best wine and food, and no one died, except that one time and the man’s heart had given out, to be fair.

Still, she wondered how long the senators would tolerate him.

The woman who currently had him in her mouth had spent the morning in Nyx’s temple, praying that she send the emperor’s eye elsewhere. Nyx would have been more sympathetic if the woman’s prayers hadn’t been, “Let him rape the ass of that little whore that married my brother and maybe that will teach her to ape her betters!”

Nyx had laughed at that. And now, disguised as a young Roman noble, she was thoroughly enjoying the sight of the rich, powerful woman on her knees servicing Caligula. And the sight was made even more pleasurable by the knowledge of what would happen after she was done.

The Emperor’s eyes closed and his body shuddered. The woman before him gagged and choked, then gasped. He pushed her back and frowned. “That is very disappointing,” he said. “You were doing so well. Guard.”

One of Caligula’s Germanic guards stepped forward.

“Take her down to the gladiators,” Caligula said. “Any man who survives today must have a turn in her mouth before he cleans himself. She may come to me tomorrow and display how her practice improved her.” He looked at the senator, whose face had gone purple. “Is that acceptable, Senator?”

“Of course,” the senator’s voice came out strangled. “It is your will, my Caesar.”

“Yes, it is,” said Caligula. “You’d best go down with her and watch, to make sure she does it all correctly. I’ll expect you to report her successes and failures to me by the end of the day.” He shooed the senator away with his hand. “Go on, now.”

The senator followed the guard down out of the Emperor’s box. Caligula waved, then turned his attention back to the men on the floor of the Coliseum. Lions were circling them, and the condemned held out their pathetic wooden swords as if they would give them a chance.

“Come on!” shouted Caligula. “Eat them, you stupid beasts!” He turned to Nyx. “Those damn lions haven’t eaten in a week. You think they’d be more eager.” He sat back in his chair and sighed. “Well, then, let us do something more interesting. Guard! Bring him!”

A moment later three guards appeared, dragging in Herod Antipas, the man who had crucified Nyx’s beloved Tribunal. He had been old, then, and was older now—well into his sixties. He had chains around his wrists and ankles and had been beaten and tortured. His body was covered in bruises and blood, and his fingers were bent at the wrong angles. Nyx smiled at the pain the man was in, and how he tried to bow to his emperor without wincing.

“So, Herod,” said Caligula. “Conspiracy against the Empire.” Caligula waved a finger at him. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

“My Caesar,” began Herod, “I would never…”

“Yes, you would,” said Caligula. “You all would. And I keep catching you and executing you, but you all keep trying nonetheless. Oh, look!” He caught Herod’s shoulder and turned him to face the arena. “They’ve started!”

A man screamed as the first lion pounced, its claws gouging through flesh and sending blood spraying before the lion’s jaws clamped around the man’s neck. The man’s screams ended as blood spurted. Caligula cheered and clapped Herod on the back. The other lions moved in. The men on the ground screamed and ran, or tried to fight, or stood still waiting to die. Soon the sand was covered in blood and severed limbs as the lions took down their prey and ripped them into manageable pieces. Caligula chortled gleefully and pointed to where one man, his legs ripped off and gnawed on by a young lion, lay screaming in agony as the lioness gorged itself on his intestines.

“Excellent! Excellent!” Caligula shouted. “Well done, lions!”

The crowd cheered with him, and Caligula retired to his chair. “Agrippa!” he shouted. “Come here and bring Herodias with you, would you?”

Herod Agrippa, nephew to Antipas, came out with Herod Antipas’ wife, Herodias, leaning on his arm. She was twenty years younger than he, and a handsome woman. Caligula looked her up and down and smiled. He turned his attention back to Herod Antipas. “Your nephew here gave me the evidence,” he said. “Stockpiling arms for 70,000 men? Dear, dear.”

“Those arms are to defend Jerusalem,” said Herod. “To defend all of Galilee and Perea against…”

“Against my legions,” said Caligula. “Against your rightful Emperor? Is that it?”

“No, my Caesar!”

“You are guilty of conspiracy,” said Caligula. “Your lands are forfeit and your nephew Agrippa here will take over. The question now is, what punishment should I give?” He propped his hand on his chin. “Crucifixion might do, but it is bad form to crucify a king. Leaves the other kings worried. No… I think it will have to be poison. Or strangulation. Strangulation is always good. A bit painful, but over quickly enough.”

“Please, my Caesar,” begged Herod Antipas. “Please. I have not conspired against you. I am loyal to you.”

“Not loyal enough.” He turned to Herod Antipas’ wife. “Strangulation, do you think?”

“Please, Caesar,” Herodias knelt before him, her hands on his feet in supplication. “Please, my Lord, he has done nothing against you.”

“He has,” said Caligula. “They all have. He’s just one of the ones I could catch. Still, the punishment need not be death…”

Herod Antipas looked up. “My Caesar?”

“There are alternatives,” Caligula said, still looking at Herodias. “If I was properly persuaded of his loyalty… and yours… I might see fit to declare exile instead.”

“What must we do to persuade you?” asked Herodias.

“For a start?” Caligula smiled and ran a finger down the side of her face. “Turn around and raise your dress, my dear. That last senator’s wife did well enough, but I am in need again, and you will suit me perfectly.”

“My Caesar,” protested Herod. “She is my wife.”

“I am your Emperor!” screamed Caligula, shoving himself to his feet. “I am your ruler and you betrayed me! I should have you flogged and the wounds cauterized with molten copper! I should have you skinned alive and thrown to the rats! I should have you bent over and have a dozen dogs take their pleasure on you before I feed you to them!” He stopped screaming abruptly, and knelt behind Herodias, shoving her forward so she was on her hands and knees. “Instead, I will take your wife’s ass. And when I am done, you will be banished to Gaul.” He pushed Herodias’ skirt up over her back. “And if she pleases me enough, I will even allow her to stay in Rome. I have need of more prostitutes.”

Herodias spoke through gritted teeth, her voice angry and fearful. “I will stay with my husband,” she said. “Come what may.”

“As you wish,” said Caligula.

Nyx watched Herod Antipas’ face collapse as the Emperor savagely entered his wife’s dry, unwilling flesh.

Around them, the crowds of the Arena were watching and cheering.
I wonder what the Gauls do to their captives
, she thought, as the Emperor grunted and thrust and Herodias clamped her teeth together, not making a sound.
For Herod Antipas surely deserves the worst end we can give him.

She promised herself to send word to Persephone and Ishtar, then stood back and watched.
This Emperor will do very well indeed.

41 A.D. – Rome

Nyx, Persephone, and Ishtar, clad in their true forms, looked down from where they floated in the sky as Caligula’s Germanic Guard charged through the city, hacking and slashing almost at random as they pursued Caligula’s assassins. The conspirators had murdered the king in the tunnels beneath the imperial palace. His guard, unable to stop them, seemed determined to do as much damage as possible to all those unlucky enough to be on the streets, and to Rome itself. Women and children lay gutted and moaning on the ground. Men died with limbs and heads hacked off. Senators, whose only crime had been to be at the Senate during the assassination, were chased down and stabbed a dozen times each before they were allowed to die. The assassins, desperate to keep control, were slaughtering as well. They had already visited Caligula’s home, stabbing his wife to death and dashing his young daughter’s brains out against the wall.

“So,” said Ishtar, looking at the chaos. “First Emperor of Rome to be assassinated. Impressive.”

“Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to make his horse a Consul,” said Persephone. “I think that’s what did it.”

“Maybe he shouldn’t have tried fucking the wives of every senator and noble Roman in the city,” said Ishtar. “Or making them his prostitutes.”

“Well, he was short of money,” said Persephone.

Nyx’s whip lashed out twice, raising welts on each Angel’s backsides. Both yelped as the Hellfire whip cut their flesh, but neither, Nyx was certain, was at all sorry.
This is what comes of letting them play goddesses,
she thought.
They grow too high and mighty for their own good
.

“At least my temples have spread throughout the city,” she said. “Next step is to spread them through the empire.”

“That’s good,” said Ishtar, “Because the Christians are already spreading.”

“What?” Nyx was shocked. “I thought they were being suppressed!”

“Not successfully,” said Persephone. “The governors don’t care, so long as they don’t advocate violence.”

Nyx hissed, and her eyes flared red. “How far have they spread?”

“Antioch, Ephesus, Corinth, Tessalonica, Cypus, Crete, and of course, here in Rome.”

Rage built inside Nyx, and her teeth ground together as she stared at the mess below.
Damn God for blocking our way to them! We could have snuffed them out in less than a day.
“Go back to Jerusalem,” said Nyx. “Get the governor to start killing them.”

“I will,” said Persephone.

“Say,” said Ishtar. “Isn’t that your temple they’re going into?”