Nest of Vipers by Luke Devenish

Author:Luke Devenish
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781864715897
Publisher: Random House Australia
Published: 2012-02-23T09:41:46+00:00

Tiberius's eye was on the large silver bowl that sat on the floor in an alcove, beyond the tapestry that hung behind his ivory curule chair. And although Tiberius occupied the chair and had his back to the tapestry and the alcove and the bowl, Sejanus knew that it was still where Tiberius's eye was aimed, if only within his churning, tortured heart. Tiberius hoped that by hiding the shameful bowl from view and filling the room with witnesses, he would be better able to resist what the bowl offered. But Sejanus knew better.

Sejanus's own eye was at the peephole in the heavy bronze doors, which Tiberius was yet to realise allowed a viewer to look outside the receiving room or to look in. From the other side of the doors Sejanus stared at Tiberius intently, waiting for the old man to reply to him. He knew the Emperor had heard what had been asked – Sejanus had seen the words strike Tiberius like a pebble thrown at the surface of a pond. The ripples of understanding slowly spread to the water's edge.

'Civil war?' said Tiberius.

'She has a faction, Caesar. She gathers more supporters to her side every day,' said Sejanus from outside, through the join of the doors.

Tiberius made to wave his hand in a gesture he intended to be dismissive, but the effort was too much for him and his hand flopped at his side.

'It's what she plans, Caesar – the streets are full of it.'

'Your spies are paid to tell you these things,' Tiberius muttered. 'Hasn't it occurred to you that this only encourages them to fabricate?'

Sejanus felt the hurt in his heart at this but said nothing, waiting.

Inside the room two of the youngest choirgirls began to cry softly. 'Stop that,' Tiberius said. The girls did.

The petrified choirmaster attempted to speak without raising his head from the floor where he had prostrated himself before Tiberius's curule chair. 'Caesar?'

'Stop that,' said Tiberius again. He turned slowly around in his chair until the rich, golden tapestry filled his vision. It was beautiful.

'But if the choir could just sing for you, Caesar . . .' the choirmaster tried to say.

Tiberius slapped his hand on the chair's arm and a slave shuffled forward with an iron rod in his hands. 'Hit him,' said Tiberius.

The slave struck the prostrate choirmaster twice on the legs, and the hapless man bit back his pain as the forty assembled children of the Patrician Youth Choir bit back their own cries of fear and distress.

The room stayed in tomblike silence. Tiberius rose unsteadily from his chair and fell to his knees before the tapestry.

'Civil war can be avoided, Caesar,' Sejanus said from the other side of the door, still watching Tiberius through the peephole.

The reminder that Sejanus was still there snapped Tiberius from the tapestry. 'How?'

'By removing the ringleaders.'

'Who are they?'

'I have made a list,' said Sejanus. He began to slip a sheet of papyrus under the door. 'And I have detailed some other matters –'

'More tall tales from spies, you mean.

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