‘Leave Rome?’
‘Yes, sire. As soon as possible. Before the mob returns from the Naumachia and discovers what has become of the grain fleet. Once they hear the news, there will be panic and a breakdown of order. The imperial family will be in danger.’
‘Nonsense,’ Geta interrupted. ‘My men will see that you are adequately protected.’
‘You command nine thousand soldiers,’ Narcissus replied. ‘You are outnumbered a hundred to one. Even the Praetorian Guard cannot defy such odds.’
‘We’re game. Let ‘em try to break in here and see what happens.’
‘If they get over the walls of the palace, then it’s obvious what will happen. They will butcher everyone they find. Regardless of rank. That is why the imperial family must be moved to a place of safety. Outside the city.’
Pallas shook his head. ‘Out of the question. The Emperor must remain here, to set an example to his people. To share their suffering during the present difficulties, figuratively speaking. If you leave Rome, sire, they will say that you are abandoning them to their fate. You will lose their respect, their love and their loyalty. Such a loss may take years to recover, if it ever does. As one of your closest advisers, I strongly urge you to remain in the palace, under the protection of Prefect Geta and his fine soldiers. With them at hand, I cannot believe you and your family would be in any danger.’
Narcissus took half a step towards the Emperor. ‘Sire, I must protest.’
‘Enough!’ Claudius raised a hand. ‘Still your tongue, N-narcissus. I must think.’ Claudius scratched his unruly white hair. He was silent for a moment before he looked up at his wife. ‘And what do you think, my d-dear? What should I do?’
Agrippina tripped lightly round the desk and knelt before him, taking his hands in hers. ‘My dearest husband, Pallas is right. The people look to you. You cannot flee when they need you most.’
‘The Emperor is not fleeing,’ Narcissus interrupted. ‘He is merely exercising prudence for the good of Rome. What would it profit the empire to put his life, and those of his family, at risk?’
Agrippina turned and scowled at Narcissus. ‘Is it the Emperor’s life you wish to protect, or your own?’
Cato watched as Narcissus sucked in a breath and coolly addressed his reply to the Empress. ‘I have devoted my life to the service of the Emperor, my lady. His continued safety has filled my waking thoughts. My motives are selfless.’ Narcissus paused and
then gestured towards Pallas. ‘I cannot think what impulse motivates my colleague here to place the Emperor in jeopardy. Pallas, my friend, why would you so willingly undermine all that I have striven to do to make our master safe from his enemies?’
The other imperial freedman gave Narcissus an icy glare before he responded in an even tone. ‘We are merely advisers to his imperial majesty. I consider it unseemly to offer my opinion in such a forceful manner as you do. The Emperor will make his own decision.’
‘Well said!’ Agrippina smiled. She turned to her husband and looked up into his face with an adoring expression. ‘It is for you to say, my dearest love. Should we stay and brave the peril that faces our people, or should we do the sensible thing, as good Narcissus suggests, and flee the city until the danger has passed?’
Claudius looked down at her fondly and cupped her cheek in his hand. Agrippina turned her head slightly to kiss his hand and then close her lips over his finger. The Emperor’s eyes fluttered for a moment before he withdrew his hand.
‘I have decided. We shall st-st-stay in Rome. It is the right thing to do. At least for tonight.’
Cato saw Narcissus’s shoulders sag a little at the words. Pallas did his best not to smirk and Geta clasped his hands behind his back, the thumb of his sword hand vigorously working the flesh of the other hand.
‘Fine words, my husband,’ said Agrippina as she stood up. ‘Brave words. But bravery alone will not sustain a man. You have not eaten all day. Come, you’ll need your strength. Let us eat together, in my bedchamber. I’ll send for some food. Your favourite dish perhaps?’
‘Mushrooms!’ Claudius grinned. ‘You are good to me, Agrippina.’
He eased himself on to his feet and straightened his back as he faced the other men in the room. ‘I have spoken my m-mind. Let it be known that the Emperor will remain in Rome.’
Geta, Pallas and Narcissus bowed their heads and stood aside as Claudius and his wife, hand in hand, made their way out of the study. Geta followed them out. The two imperial freedmen were the last to leave, as social protocol demanded. As the prefect of the
Praetorian Guard left the room, Pallas turned to Narcissus with a look of cold amusement. ‘If I were you I’d take my own advice and get out of Rome, while you can.’
‘What, and leave the Emperor’s life in the hands of you and your friends?’ Narcissus spoke loudly enough for Cato and Macro to catch his remarks.
‘Friends?’
‘The Liberators. That’s who you are working for. You and Geta. What have they promised you as a reward?’
Pallas shook his head mockingly. ‘You’re barking up the wrong tree, my friend. I have nothing to do with the Liberators. For what it’s worth, I pledge my life on that.’
‘Liar.’
‘No.’ Pallas stood in front of Narcissus and thrust his finger into his chest. ‘You will live to see the truth of it, but I would not count on living much longer than that.’ He paused and ran his eyes over the imperial secretary. ‘It has been a pleasure to have worked alongside you these past years, Narcissus. For the most part, at least. We have served Claudius well, but no emperor lasts forever. The only issue is who will succeed Claudius. You have made your choice of who to serve, and I have made mine. Farewell, Narcissus.’ He held out his hand, but the imperial secretary did not move. Pallas shook his head sadly. ‘I would prefer that we parted as friends. It’s too bad. Goodbye.’
Pallas turned away and strode from the room. Narcissus watched him leave, with undisguised hatred. When the sound of his rival’s footsteps had faded away, he turned to the balcony and approached Macro and Cato.
‘You heard?’
Cato nodded. ‘Every word.’
‘They mean to murder Claudius, I am certain of it. The fool has played into their hands,’ Narcissus said bitterly. ‘That little bitch has him wrapped around her finger. Him and that bastard, Pallas. We have to act quickly.’ He stopped and looked at them with a puzzled expression. ‘How did you two come to be posted here?’
‘Fuscius had a duty roster,’ Macro explained. ‘Tigellinus handed it to him.’
‘Tigellinus?’ The imperial secretary stared at him anxiously. ‘He means to place his men as close to the Emperor as possible. Has he given you any instructions?’
‘He told us to be ready to act.’
‘That’s all?’
Cato nodded.
Narcissus rubbed his jaw anxiously. ‘The Liberators have men in place close to the Emperor. The prefect and some of his officers are in on the plot and they have taken control of the palace. I’d say they will act soon. Tonight perhaps. Certainly no later than noon tomorrow.’
‘Why then?’ asked Macro.
‘Because the spectacle is over. Most of the mob will remain by the lake tonight. They will set off for Rome at first light and reach the city at midday. Unless there is food here to feed them, there will be nothing to stop them venting their rage. It’s my guess that the Liberators will have taken control by then. The Emperor will be dead, and then they’ll produce all the grain that they have amassed in secret. The mob will be grateful enough to whoever feeds it.’ Narcissus looked at them with a cynical smile. ‘Once the people have been won over, the Liberators will start to remove anyone who was loyal to the previous regime. In which case, I’m as good as dead already. Me, and Britannicus.’
‘Why not the others?’ asked Cato. ‘Won’t they want to dispose of Agrippina and Nero as well?’
‘Why would they?’ Narcissus asked bitterly. ‘My guess is that they’re in on the plot. Why else would Agrippina have persuaded the Emperor to remain in the palace? Now they have Claudius where they want him.’
Cato was thinking. ‘That doesn’t make sense. Agrippina can’t be part of the Liberators’ plot.’
‘Why not?’
‘She was there when the Liberators attacked the imperial party in the Forum. They tried and nearly succeeded in killing her son.’ As Cato recalled the incident, there were some details that still defied explanation, but he continued with his original line of thought. ‘And afterwards, Nero spoke to me. He said he would
reward me when he became Emperor. He seemed quite certain about it.’
‘So?’
‘If he believes he is going to be Emperor, then Agrippina must have planted the idea in his head. You said it yourself, she is using him to further her own ambitions. In which case, why would she conspire with the Liberators?’
‘He’s got a point,’ said Macro.
Narcissus hissed with frustration. ‘All right. Then if she’s not part of the Liberators’ plot, why is she trying to keep Claudius in Rome, where he’s in greatest danger? There’s only one good reason for that. She’s running her own conspiracy. She’s working with Pallas to remove the Emperor and place her son on the throne. It’s no secret that she has been doing her best to bend Claudius to her will. Firstly by seducing him, then persuading him into marriage, then the adoption of her son and finally making Nero heir to the throne.’
‘Now that makes more sense.’ Macro nodded. ‘So we’re dealing with two conspiracies, not one. The Liberators want to remove the entire imperial family, while Agrippina wants to replace the Emperor with her son. That I can get my head round.’
It made sense, thought Cato, but for one small nagging detail. ‘You’re right. She and Pallas have a motive, and the means, if they can get their strike in before the Liberators and disarm them. But there’s something that still doesn’t fit. Something that I’ve not been able to explain.’
‘Speak up then, man,’ Narcissus hissed. ‘We haven’t got much time. We have to act. What’s the problem?’
‘It’s about that day in the Forum when the Liberators attacked the imperial party. Their leader, Cestius, pushed Britannicus aside just before he went for Nero.’
‘What of it?’
‘Why would the Liberators pass up the chance to kill one of the Emperor’s sons? It would have been the work of a moment to strike Britannicus down before turning on Nero. Why did Cestius spare Britannicus?’
‘I don’t know,’ Narcissus said irritably. ‘Perhaps Cestius didn’t
recognise him. There’s no time for this now, Cato. We can go through it all later. Right now we have to save the Emperor. We need to protect him. I don’t know how far the conspiracy has spread through the ranks of the Praetorians. We know about Geta, Sinius, Tigellinus, and I have the names of a few other suspects but that’s all. There could be many more. The only troops that we can rely on are the German bodyguards. I’ll have them all roused and placed close enough to the Emperor to prevent any assassin getting through to him.’
‘That won’t be enough to save him. The Liberators, and Pallas - assuming you’re right about him and the Empress - are not the only threat. We have to keep the mob under control, or they’ll succeed where the conspirators have failed.’
‘To do that we need to feed the mob,’ Narcissus responded tersely, ‘and I can’t just make grain appear.’
‘No,’ Cato conceded.
Macro sniffed. ‘Either way, we’re in deep shit. Just like I said. The situation stinks.’
Cato stared at his friend. ‘That’s it,’ he muttered. ‘It has to be.’
‘What are you on about, lad?’
‘Cestius. You remember when we first ran into him, and his men. At the inn?’
‘Yes. What of it?’
‘Do you remember how they smelled?’
Macro nodded. ‘Like shit.’
‘Exactly. Just like shit,’ Cato said with an excited gleam in his eyes. ‘And where would you go to stink like that? A sewer, that’s where. To be precise, the Great Sewer that runs right under the heart of the city before it flows into the Tiber.’
‘Very interesting. So what if Cestius and his pals have been mucking about among the turds? How does that help us?’
‘Think about it, Macro. Where does the Great Sewer empty out into the Tiber?’
‘Not far from the Boarium. In fact close to that warehouse of Gaius Frontinus.’
‘Right next to it as it happens.’ Cato could not help smiling at the cleverness of the conspirators. ‘Surely you see it now.’
Macro looked at Cato, then glanced at Narcissus. ‘What’s he talking about?’
Narcissus stroked his jaw. ‘I think I can guess.’
‘There’s no other answer,’ said Cato. ‘We know that the grain was taken to the warehouse. Sometime between its purchase and when we searched the place, the grain was moved to another location. I’ve been trying to think how they managed it without attracting any attention to themselves. Now I know. They must have access to the sewer. They used the sewer to move the grain unseen. That’s probably why Cestius and his men were at the inn that night, to celebrate the completion of the job.’ He turned to Narcissus, eyes fired with excitement. ‘We have to go back to the warehouse. I need some men we can trust. We can’t use the Praetorians. It’ll have to be the Germans. Give me fifty men, and torches, and we’ll find that grain.’
‘I don’t know if I can spare them. They’re needed here.’