Sejanus

37

We went by road, faster this time because we did the journey on horseback, not in coaches. The Wart wasn't taking any chances of a leak; on his instructions Macro stopped at the last posting-station before the city and sent a message ahead telling the senior consul Regulus to convene the senate for the next day.

It was good to be back in Rome, but there was no time for walking around. We split up when we got to the Market Square. Macro had his own fish to fry; when Sejanus turned up he'd have to be on hand outside the senate house to soothe any worries he might have and make sure the guy didn't bolt. Meanwhile I wasn't taking any chances either; I didn't want to be recognised at this late stage, because that would've tipped Sejanus off for sure. Luckily it was a cold day, with the wind blowing from the north, so I could wrap my face in my cloak without looking like a third-rate conspirator. That was even more necessary because I'd had my first shave and haircut for six months: a 'senator' with a curled beard and his hair in a queue would've stood out on the benches like a bull at a eunuch's party as much as one with his head swathed, and without Marcus Ufonius's protective covering it would've been evident to anyone who looked that Corvinus was back in town. I slipped in through a side entrance as unobtrusively as I could and waited in the privy until the tiers were full before shoving my nose inside the chamber itself.

The consuls' chairs were still empty and there was no sign of Sejanus yet, but evidently news of the letter had spread because the House was stacked and buzzing. Well, mostly buzzing: I found a space on the topmost tier next to a couple of snoring broad-stripers who looked like they'd been there since before Actium. Perfect. A good view, and safe company: I'd bet the consuls could do a strip-tease up and down the gangways blowing army bugles and these two still wouldn't notice. Jupiter knows how they voted them. With pulleys, maybe.

I'd just got comfortable when there was a stir down below and the consuls Regulus and Trio came in, with Sejanus behind them. Macro had done his job well, and the guy looked solidly confident, grinning and shaking hands all round. While Regulus took the auspices and opened the meeting he sat in the centre of the front bench with a smile on his face that would've cracked marble.

Macro came forward with the Wart's letter, saluted sharply and went to deliver his own personal squib to the guard outside. Regulus broke the seal and began to read the contents aloud. Somewhere someone coughed, but it was the only sound in the place. Even my two bench-mates had stopped snoring. Instinct, maybe.

Ten minutes and two pages of undirected waffle later, there was still complete silence: understandable, because when a letter from the emperor is being read out even a cough in the wrong place can be misinterpreted, and broad-stripers learn early to yawn with their mouths closed. I had to hand it to Tiberius. He knew his audience, and he'd managed this brilliantly; the Praetorians would be half-way back to camp by now and their place taken by the troops from the Urban Cohort, while Sejanus still grinned on his bench like a happy tomcat. Even as the first jarring notes crept in no one looked especially concerned; it was only when they began to pile up one on another and squeeze out the waffle that the shuffling and throat-clearing started. Sejanus's smile began to slip, and it went on slipping.

He was grey as death when, a full half hour into the session, Tiberius finally put the knife in.

'"I am informed, conscript fathers,"' Regulus read in his bland lawyer's voice, '"that without my knowledge acts have been performed in my name contrary to the laws and the well-being of the state. Innocent men have been falsely brought to trial and condemned, plots against my kindred fomented, and power devolved by me in all good faith grossly and callously abused. It is therefore my will and command that the instigator of these acts, my erstwhile representative Lucius Aelius Sejanus, be placed at once under restraint and confined to the Mamertine prison until his crimes can be properly investigated and punished."'

Regulus lowered the letter and turned to Sejanus. The coughing and shuffling had stopped, and the silence was absolute.

'Lucius Aelius Sejanus,' he said. 'You heard the emperor's instructions.'

Sejanus didn't move, except to run his tongue over his lips. His face was a mask. The main doors opened and Laco, the Urban Cohort commander, came in with four of his men. He stood silently by the door jamb, his hand on his sword-hilt and his eyes on the consul, waiting for further orders.

'Aelius Sejanus,' Regulus said again. 'You will come here, please.'

Sejanus was shaking his head slowly from side to side as if to clear it. The senators next to him were edging away.

'Sejanus.' Regulus raised his voice; not that it was necessary, you could've heard a pin drop. 'Did you hear what I said?'

The guy was on his own now, the bench he was sitting on empty for two clear yards either way.

'Me?' he whispered, and I could hear the incredulity in his voice even across twenty tiers. 'No, not me. It's a mistake, some mistake. You don't want me.'

Regulus made a sign, and Laco stepped forward.

'Take him,' the consul said.

The silence broke. As the soldiers gripped Sejanus's arms and pulled him to his feet the House erupted. Below me an elderly senator suddenly screamed: 'Give him the Hook! Give him the Hook!' Spittle flew from his mouth and hit the bald head of the man in front. Sejanus lifted his eyes, but he was beyond seeing, and if the two guards hadn't been holding him up I'd swear he would've fallen. Beside me, one of the oldsters stirred in his sleep and shouted: 'I agree!' Jupiter knew what he thought he was voting for, but it didn't matter anyway, and I'd had enough. The show was over, and Rome's august senate could manage things by themselves now. I left before I threw up on the hallowed benches.

Later in the day the senate reconvened and sentenced him formally to death. Against the Wart's own instructions, and his rule that stipulated a three-day interval between sentence and execution, Sejanus was strangled by the public executioner before sunset and his body dragged down the Gemonian Stairs with a hook in its gullet. I wasn't there, then or later when the celebrations started in earnest. I reckoned I'd played my part already.