Arena (15 page)

Drunken confidence flashed in her eyes. “Let them! Let the mother and the son keep in mind that Locusta is still available, in case either needs expert advice on how to —”

“Have something to eat,” I interrupted, literally forcing a bunch of grapes between her lips.

Locusta sputtered, fumed and swallowed. The sight might have made me laugh, as it did others at nearby couches, had I not been painfully aware of the displeased stare of Agrippina, and the even angrier glance of the Emperor.

Conversation commenced, forced and loud. The musicians started up again. Lamps guttered while the wind from the bay blew harder. Hangings at the windows flapped. Locusta lapsed into silence and grew drowsy, for which I was thankful. Only once was I forced to use more grapes to stifle the beginning of a loud reminiscence about Claudius, full of veiled references to her alleged role in his undoing. I put the wine out of the way, where she could not reach it, and she gradually grew sober.

As a result of her shrill boasts I found myself without hunger or thirst. The Emperor had clearly heard. From time to time he turned aside from Poppaea to stare thoughtfully at Locusta’s nodding coppery head.

Presently Locusta grew bored with my company. She excused herself to talk with a group of friends. Men and women drifted off in pairs. One couple even performed the act on the floor beside their couch, to the raucous amusement of those nearby. All at once the music seemed too
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loud, the food too rich. My belly was heavy and uneasy. I left the hall.

As I proceeded up the wide marble staircase I heard the Emperor’s voice. He had strolled to one of the small balconies opening off the chamber, and now he was returning to Agrippina, speaking loudly as if to demonstrate his good feelings.

“Rough water on the bay, Mother. Perhaps since you planned to return to your villa anyway, it would be wise to assemble your crew and sail before the storm. You see I’m concerned about your welfare after all.”

Bowing, he planted a dutiful kiss on her cheek. A crowd around applauded. Agrippina remained stiff. Octavia gazed blankly at her husband. Shrugging, I went on my way, glad to taste the fresh, windy air.

What the Emperor had said was true. Barges tied at the wharf rose and fell heavily on the swells.

Ominous dark clouds obscured the stars. Lanterns bobbed on the vessels where skeleton crews looked to the mooring lines.

A moment later I felt I was being watched. I turned. A female figure glided from the shadows.

“I thought no one was out here. I needed air. It’s so warm in there, so stifling and — oh. The bestiarius.”

I made a clumsy salute. “Yes, my lady. I will retire if the Emperor’s mother wishes.”

Agrippina moved to the rail beside me. Her dark eyes were empty, mournful as she gazed out over the choppy Bay of Baiae. She shook her head in a sad way.

“Stay. I would enjoy the company of a plain, undevious man for a change.”

Without thinking, she turned her face to the light. She must have been no more than forty-four or five, but her features were shrunken, looking almost ancient now. Her fine gown and jewels only heightened the sickly pallor of her flesh. “What is your name?”

I answered respectfully.

“I enjoyed your performance in my son’s arena.”

“Thank you my lady. I trust the Emperor was pleased with it also.”

Her mouth wrenched. “All he cares about is the body of that slut Poppaea.” She sighed, then gave me such a queer smile I wondered whether she was entirely sane. “I admire a man with a strong body, a man who uses that body skillfully. Once I too had certain skills. In statecraft.

Now I have none. The only thing for which the rabble gives me credit is skill in preparing a meal.” Her eyes were accusing, daring me to reply. “A meal of mushrooms.”

I said nothing. From her half-mad stare, it was clear she’d paid her price for the crimes charged to her. She shuddered violently, indicating the black, foaming bay.

“My son thinks I should sail home before the storm breaks. Perhaps that’s wise. I cause nothing but trouble here. But it’s a wild night, and lonely. I have only stupid oarsmen for company.” She hesitated, then went on like a pleading child, “You are a strong man. Would you like to earn a generous purse? Can you borrow a sword somewhere?”

“To what purpose, my lady?”

“To provide me company on the trip to my villa. It lies just there, over the water. That cluster of lights above Antium. I want company tonight. Even my barge is strange. My son had it built for me three months ago. The oarsmen are foreigners. Perhaps it’s the wind, or the wine, but I’d feel better sailing with one able-bodied man who wasn’t a total stranger. I’ll pay you handsomely.”

Her mouth grew wry. “I’ll even order you, bestiarius, if you refuse the first offer.”

I no longer doubted that she was a madwoman, with a madwoman’s foolish fear of a blowing sea. Why should I scruple, though? She would reward me. And while she had no influence in the government any longer, she was still a person of station. In my trade every contact might eventually prove useful. A short sail across the bay and back, an hour’s work, and I would have spent my night more profitably than I would lolling inside, watching public fornication and other depravities.

“I will be glad to go with you, my lady,” I said politely.

Agrippina smiled at that. We made rapid arrangements to meet on the wharf within minutes.

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Then I returned to the hall. I was unable to find Locusta or the friends to whom she’d been talking. Stifling a pang of jealousy, I went outside again. After some haggling and the distribution of some coins from the purse the Emperor had given me, I obtained a short sword from a slave.

I wrapped this in my cloak and slipped down to the wharf.

Agrippina’s barge was long and splendidly painted. All sails were furled because of the ruthless wind. The craft heaved up and down on the slapping waves. There was kind of hot, stale smell in the night air, the odor that precedes a violent storm. I spied Agrippina already on board, seated beneath an awning in the stern.

I leaped the rail, ignoring the surly stares of the oarsmen. There were about two dozen, naked to the waist on the benches, unpleasant-looking to a man. The hortator was an even grimmer specimen, a big Greek with a twisting white scar on his jaw. As I took my place beside Agrippina, feeling totally superfluous, the lines were cast off. The prow of the barge swung out to open water.

“Pull!” the hortator cried. He rapped his gavel on a wood block to set the stroke. “Pull! Pull!

Pull!”

The barge creaked and groaned. Agrippina whispered, “We shouldn’t have come. I should have remained the night. The water’s too rough —”

“We’ll make it all right, my lady,” I said. “See, we’re well away from shore already.”

So we were. The lamps of Nero’s villa were mere yellow blurs, receding. The Antium shore seemed far distant, though.

The creakings and crackings of the barge timbers grew louder.

“This is a splendid craft, my lady. Didn’t you tell me the Emperor presented it to you?”

Agrippina nodded. Her eyes were lost on the black water. “His own artisans designed it for me.”

I immediately concluded that his artisans should be promptly dismissed. The wretched hulk was pitching and rolling like a toy boat. No barge built by men who knew their business would have suffered so.

Agrippina sat like one in a trance as we plowed on. The waves roared, lashing us with spray as the wind rose. The hortator’s gavel seemed to lose the stroke now and then, falter. A dark suspicion entered my mind. The waters of Baiae were infamous for bands of marauding smugglers and pirates. Could such a band be in league with the hortator or some of the oarsmen? Perhaps Agrippina’s fears were not so farfetched at that. Persons of importance had been seized on these waters before, held prisoner until a handsome ransom was paid.

I unwrapped the sword from the cloak. “Excuse me while I talk to the hortator. I know very little about sailing but it seems to me we’re no longer making headway.”

“Cassius, stay with me. I’m afraid. All this pitching and lurching — Cassius, please —watch out!

”

Her words became a scream as the barge heeled over. With a snap the tall mast broke.

The mast crashed into the oar benches. Men shrieked, crushed to death. Others leaped over the rail. At once the barge swung broadside to the waves, smacked and smacked again.

The hortator dove over the side. I struggled to stay afoot on the tilting deck, battered by cresting waves.

“Cassius, help me!” Agrippina shrieked. “Where are you? Take my hand —”

“Here, lady,” I shouted, grappling for her. All around, nightmare crackings and snappings preceded the breakup of the barge. The deck tilted even more. I seized her thin body tightly as we fell into space.

My hands slipped and Agrippina was gone. The last thought I had before we struck the water was that the hortator had indeed been in league with pirates. No vessel broke up that quickly, shaking itself apart, unless the timbers had been deliberately weakened first. Then, among, flailing, howling oarsmen, the water covered me.

My lungs were tortured to bursting by the time I regained the surface. Water smashed over my
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head. I heard a feeble feminine cry and swam toward it. Agrippina was choking, going down.

I threw one arm around her torso, squinted through the wavetroughs to locate lights, and started swimming with all my strength.

An eternity later, choken and sodden and aching, I dragged Agrippina up on the damp beach at the foot of the wall of her villa.

While I vomited salty water out of my guts, servants rushed down to assist the Emperor’s mother. She was sobbing from shock, her clothes in tatters. Of the barge there was no trace. The oarsmen were gone too, apparently deeming it unwise to swim for Agrippina’s stretch of shore.

I wiped my brow and trudged after the servants to the wall gate. Every muscle in my body hurt from the arduous swim with the woman clinging to me like a millstone, howling demented words of fright in my ear. The villa appeared to be nearly the size of Nero’s, but there were only a few servants on the premises. Their sandaled feet whispered eerily in the vaulted hall to which Agrippina was carried.

Her cheeks and lips were blue. In a trembling voice she dispatched a runner around the shore to inform the Emperor of what had happened, and to assure him she had survived. Slaves fetched in spiced wine and a butt of meat. I was on the point of telling her that I was convinced the hortator had plotted with pirates to wreck the craft when she rose and stumbled out, saying in a dazed way.

“Wait, Cassius. Wait until I find a new gown. I’ll have your purse for you.”

Leaning on two slaves, she vanished in the gloom. I grew uneasy. The pirates might be lurking nearby. Even if I told her that I feared for her safety in this dim, empty house, I doubted very much whether she would pay attention. Her eyes shone too vacantly as she left.

I was gnawing on a hunk of the cold meat when halloos and shouts rang from the beach.

Dread clutched me. I ran through echoing rooms into a broad court bounded by the bay wall.

Already a dozen men had smashed the gate, with a dozen more pouring after them. They were muffled in cloaks. Daggers winked by wind-tossed lantern light.

Through the gate I saw a host of small craft bobbing on the shingle. The pirate plan had not failed after all.

Yellow from a lantern spilled over me. In its backwash I saw an emaciated pirate whom I took to be the leader. His right eye was puckered into a scarry slit, and a single pearl hung glimmering in his pierced left ear. He pointed at me.

“Here’s the first of her slaves. Kill him and do the same for the rest. We want no witnesses.”

They swarmed on me, blows and blades raining down. I fought back but the long swim had left me weak. I went down, groaning when a boot nearly caved in my ribs.

The shadow-shapes of the marauders fluttered by, hurrying into the villa. My cry of pain must have led them to think I was mortally wounded, for they paid no more attention to me. The courtyard grew dark. I tried to rise and fell down dizzily.

I heard a faraway shriek of horror, and then nothing more.

When I awoke, I was still lying in the court. The storm had passed. Rosy pink daylight streaked the villa’s walls.

I clambered to my feet. Through the wrecked gate I saw the lapping beach, all empty of vessels. I shouted.

My voice rang back again, then again. With an unsteady step I returned to the house.

In the ghostly rooms that smelled all too freshly of blood, one after another I found the slaves slain, twisted in postures of struggle. My gorge rose but I hurried on.

Gulls cried on the distant beach. In the lavish chamber where she had retired to change gowns, Agrippina lay sprawled, her blood brown where it had drained on the alabaster floor. Her guilt had been expunged at last.

I turned away, too sickened to retch, but I carried forever the memory of the mother of the Emperor hacked to death.

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IWASTED no time searching the villa to discover the extent of the looting. I was sure the pirates had taken whatever treasure was hidden in the house. Eager to be free of the smell of stale blood in those empty rooms, I rushed out through the beach gate. At a small dock a few tiny pleasure craft were anchored. Fishing vessels were already making from the bay into the sea, sails bright against the rising sun. I unfastened the lines of the smallest boat, climbed in and began paddling across the placid water toward the glimmer of Nero’s villa on the far shore.

My head ached and felt curiously light, both from physical weariness and the shock of the bestial slaughter. Certainly the Emperor would want to repay the pirates with the cruelest possible punishment. I remembered the leader clearly — a crooked-lidded right eye, a pearl in his left ear.

Long before my weary arms dragged the little boat to the Emperor’s wharf I saw the sun shining on coppery hair. Alone on the deserted quay, Locusta waited, pacing.