Sejanus

12

When we pulled up outside Bathyllus had the door open for us as usual. The little guy was grinning like a drain, he looked well fed, and I could swear there was a streak of lovage-and-cumin sauce on his chin.

'How was your meal, sir?' he asked.

'Don't talk about it.' I started to strip off my mantle. 'Just don't talk about it. Ever.'

'Very well, sir.' He took Perilla's cloak.

'How's the Meton situation?' I said. 'Any change?'

'He's out, sir.'

I stared. The mantle slipped to the floor. 'Out?'

'Out of the kitchen. Since shortly after you left, sir.'

'Since shortly after we left.' My empty stomach rumbled. I pushed past him. 'Just let me get my hands on the bastard!'

'Certainly. But perhaps you should see your visitor first.'

I stopped. 'Visitor?'

'Flavonius Lippillus. He's in the dining room.'

Lippillus was on the guest couch with a jug of Setinian beside him. And on the table — spread across the whole length and width of the dining table — was…

My jaw dropped. Food. Real food.

'Hi, Corvinus.' Lippillus waved a canapé. 'You don't mind, do you? I'm sorry, I got tired waiting.'

'Yeah. I mean, no.' I was heaping a plate. Jupiter in spangles! Roast stuffed guinea-fowl! Snails! Mushrooms in wine! 'Did Meton make all this?'

'Sure. He's been slaving away like a demon for hours.' He looked up. 'Hi, Perilla.'

'Good evening, Lippillus.' Perilla had followed me in. She was staring at the table too. 'Marcus, what is going on here?'

'I don't know.' I bit into a leg of guinea-fowl: marinated, if I didn't miss my guess, in cherry juice and juniper. Delicious! 'And frankly at the moment I don't care.'

Lippillus poured me a cup of wine. 'I think it's a peace offering,' he said.

'Meton's wasting his time. When I get my strength back I'll beat him to death with his own omelette pan.' Gods, though, that guinea-fowl was good! I chased it down with a throatful of Setinian and reached for the mushrooms. 'What happened? He come out voluntarily?'

'Oh, he was no trouble. Not after I pitched in the smoke bomb.'

'The which?'

'Smoke bomb. A little something I learned once from a Greek army engineer.' Lippillus scooped olive paté onto a crust. 'I borrowed the ingredients from your neighbour, mixed the thing up, lit it and chucked it through the outside window. Bathyllus and his lads were waiting to grab Meton at the other end. Don't worry, there's no damage.'

'Screw the damage.' If Lippillus had managed to winkle Meton out without calling in the City Guard he'd performed a minor miracle. Even for him it was impressive. 'Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.'

'If you'll excuse me I'll just go and change into something that doesn't smell of rue sauce,' Perilla said. She disappeared upstairs.

'Rue sauce?' Lippillus stared after her. 'Rue sauce?'

'Believe it.' I de-shelled a snail.

'Bathyllus said you were out to dinner at your mother's.'

'Out, yes.' Gods, the snails were even better than the guinea-fowl: boiled in wine must with the barest touch of caraway. 'Dinner…'

Lippillus looked at me, then shrugged and poured us another cup of wine. 'So. Business. You left a message to say you wanted to see me. Or was it just that you needed help with your domestic problems?'

My stomach was quieter now. The rumbles had settled to a contented purring. 'You know anything about a man called Sextus Marius? Reported to Drusus for treason?'

Lippillus frowned. 'A Spaniard?'

'Yeah. That's him.' I evicted a second snail.

'Accuser Calpurnius Salvianus. The case was thrown out unheard and Salvianus was exiled.'

I nearly choked. 'He was what?'

'Exiled. Tiberius gave him a public reprimand and packed him off east.' Lippillus was still watching me closely. 'I'd forgotten about Marius. Where did you dig him up?'

I told him what Celsus had told me. He nodded.

'That would fit. Salvianus was none too bright by all reports. Sejanus used him to kill the two birds with the one stone.'

He was ahead of me. 'Hold on. I understand why the Wart threw the case out, sure; as Sejanus's agent against the Julians Marius would have his protection. But who's your other bird?'

'Drusus himself, of course. Who else would it be?'

'Yeah?' I took a swallow of wine. 'You mind explaining why the Wart's accredited deputy should get himself into trouble by sitting in for his dad on the first stages of a treason trial?'

'Corvinus.' Lippillus sighed. 'You've got hold of the wrong end of the stick somewhere. We're not talking about Tiberius's son. This only happened five years ago. It was the other Drusus. Agrippina's boy.'

I sat back. Gods! My own fault, of course; Priscus hadn't given an exact date, and I'd assumed when he told me the story he'd meant the Wart's Drusus. Five years ago, that Drusus had been dead. If the judge concerned had been the Julian kid then that was a different thing entirely, and what Lippillus was saying made sense. A lot of sense.

'Sejanus used the same scam as Serenus did,' I said slowly. 'Only he was more successful. He had Marius accused on his own terms, and the case collapsed. Better, it never got started.'

'Right.' Lippillus nodded. 'Marius was charged during the Latin Festival, when Tiberius and the senior magistrates were out of Rome. Leaving the boy as a very junior City Prefect.'

'And if Salvianus was no mental heavyweight he wouldn't realise he was being used as a political cat's-paw until it was too late.' I pulled off another guinea-fowl leg and chewed on it while I thought over the implications. Yeah. Clever. Real clever. Sharp-as-a-brick Salvianus must've thought he was on to a sure thing, especially if he knew nothing about the Julians' involvement with the Gallic revolt: he was lodging a public-spirited accusation, and as a judge the inexperienced Drusus would be a walkover. Drusus was just as culpable, but in his case, like I said, it would've been through inexperience, not stupidity. During the Latin Festival no important business is conducted because none of those authorised to conduct it are in the city; so by agreeing to preside over a case of treason he was inadvertently laying public claim to the full powers of an imperial deputy. Given the Wart's fear of the Julians, it was no wonder he'd reacted as he did and thrown the case out the window. As a piece of slick political manoeuvring on Sejanus's part it was beautiful: his agent got off, the Julian faction lost another brownie point with the Wart and Tiberius's own popularity slipped a further notch because rapping squeaky-clean young Drusus across the knuckles wouldn't go down well with the Roman public.

'So Marius is our man,' I said.

'It seems that way. He's not a straight Julian, that's for sure. Like Serenus. Only Sextus Marius was protected.'

Protected. Right. Protected was the word. Marius was someone I just had to see.

Just then Perilla came in wearing a clean mantle. I shifted over on my couch to give her room.

'You want to join us now you're sauce-free and respectable, lady?' I said.

She settled down beside me. 'Marcus, this is lovely. A banquet. What on earth happened?'

'Ask our resident military genius.'

'Bathyllus?'

'Not Bathyllus. The real military genius sitting over there looking smug and hogging the larks'-tongue pastries.'

'Cut it out, Corvinus.' Lippillus blandly reached for another canapé. 'It was simple. I'd've come round before if I'd known you were having problems.'

'Tell her about the smoke bomb.'

Lippillus explained while Perilla shelled a quail's egg and dipped it in fish pickle.

'You must give us the recipe,' she said. 'We may need it again some time.'

'I doubt it. Your husband here intends effecting a few domestic changes with an omelette pan.'

'Oh, he didn't mean that.' She leaned over and kissed my cheek. 'Did you, Marcus?'

'Yeah, well…'

'Pity.' Lippillus took a swallow of wine. 'You can send Meton to us any time. We could use a good chef, and Mother could keep him in the cupboard.'

I grinned. Yeah, as an experiment that might just work. Not that I intended making it, even on a temporary basis. Living in close proximity to Marcina Paullina might have its compensations. The guy might not want to come back.

'This is lovely, anyway.' Perilla popped in the quail's egg and licked the sauce from her fingertips. 'Absolutely delicious. Marcus, the mushrooms, please.'

'I thought you weren't hungry.'

'What on earth gave you that idea? I'm starving.'

'But in the litter you said…'

'Yes, I know.' She spooned mushrooms on to her plate. 'But then I can pretend to eat the nonsense Vipsania serves, even while I'm being splattered by her husband, whereas you can't. Besides, I doubt if her silk-route food will ever catch on. You feel hungry again too soon afterwards. Oh, incidentally' — she reached into a fold of her mantle and took out a pendant — 'I brought this down for you. It belonged to my mother. A present from Sidon.'

I picked the thing up and examined it. It was a small jet cylinder with tiny stick figures cut into the surface. Obviously some sort of primitive seal. And from Sidon, Phoenicia. Phoenicia as in Carthage…

Hey! I kissed her while Lippillus looked on smiling.

'I love you sometimes,' I said. 'You know that?'

'Yes, dear. Just be careful, won't you? And I don't mean with that.' She indicated the seal.

'Aren't I always?'

'Not especially. Are these meatballs over there beside your left elbow, by the way?'

I passed her the meatballs, plus the rest of the snails and what was left of the guinea-fowl. It was the least I could do, when she'd given me the key to Marius.