The second hour of the day.
A breathless Stephanus was ushered quickly into Corellius Rufus’ tablinum where the others still sat in tense conversation. He addressed himself to Parthenius. “I’ve just seen your poet outside Pliny’s house. Pliny knows who she is, claims that she murdered Verpa. What else he guesses isn’t certain, but if he takes her in to the Prefecture and they torture her we’re all done for. Even now she may be telling him everything.”
There was tight-lipped silence around the table. Suddenly Nerva leapt up. “This has gone far enough. I must have been out of my mind to listen to you, Parthenius. It’s time to abandon this whole mad scheme.”
“Senator, you surprise me. You were brave enough at our little charade two weeks ago. What has happened to you?” The chamberlain’s voice was silky, although his stomach was shot through with arrows of pain. “I’m afraid things have progressed beyond the point of turning back.”
“Not for me! Domitilla was banished before you approached me. She can’t give them my name.”
“No, but I could,” Parthenius said softly, “and, though I admire the Stoical virtues, I fear they will desert me in the face of torture. No, Nerva, there is no going back now. You are our choice for emperor, suited to the job in every way: respected, uncorrupted, known as a friend of ancient Roman liberty.” Nerva had not been their first choice, but he was definitely their last; it had to be him. What was there to recommend him? Old age and ill health. He would die soon and then the real search for a successor could begin.
“Guttersnipe,” Nerva snarled, “you talk to me of Roman liberty! You care for nothing but your own well-barbered neck.”
“All our necks at this point.” Parthenius voice got lower as Nerva’s grew shriller. “Please sit down, senator. You’re not going anywhere until the Praetorian Guard proclaims you and then you will go to the palace and be hailed as Caesar. And I will be there applauding with the rest.”
The grand chamberlain turned back to the others. “This man Pliny needs to be dealt with now. He is too dangerous. Even if we called off the assassination, he would still live to denounce us. We need to get the Purissima out of that house at once and Pliny cannot be allowed to live. Are we agreed? I want each of you to cast his vote in the presence of us all.” Parthenius looked at each one in turn. “Cocceius Nerva Caesar, if I may call you so. As our future sovereign, I defer to you. How do you vote?” Nerva composed his face with an effort, made an angry gesture with his hand. “Death by all means!” “Thank you. And you, Empress?” “This man, Pliny. Who is he?” “A lawyer, a quite junior senator.” “How long has the family been senatorial?” “He is the first to reach that rank.” “He has powerful protectors?” At this, Corellius looked away in shame. He had been powerful once. No more. “No, Empress,” Parthenius answered. “No. His uncle had some influence with Vespasian.” “Vespasian has been dead a long time.” “May I compliment your majesty on your understanding of affairs.” She ignored the compliment. Her dark, deep set eyes were as hard as a gladiator’s at the moment of the kill. “Death, then.” “And the rest of you?” The chamberlain’s gaze swept the room. “Petronius?” “I will drive the sword in with this hand!” The Praetorian commandant made an upward stabbing motion with his fist. “Thank you. Entellus?” “Death.” And so on as he proceeded around the room until he came finally to Corellius Rufus. “Senator?”
A red spot burned in each of his withered cheeks. “He’s a good man. His only crime is obedience to orders. Perhaps if I speak to him…” “Yes, you tried that already,” Nerva sneered. “It was not a success.” “Sir, I ask you again. There is no more time for talk. Your vote. We are waiting.” The invalid’s face twisted in anguish. “Death.” “Sir, I could not hear you.” “Death!” “Thank you, sir.”
“He won’t outlive the hour,” Petronius growled, jumping to his feet. “And I’ll bring the Purissima back here to wait until it’s over. I’ve already given sealed orders to my tribunes to neutralize the City Battalions when the hour comes.”
“And we,” Parthenius said, nodding to Stephanus and Entellus, “must be back at the palace before we’re missed. The emperor will be calling for me soon. Is everyone clear about the plan?”
They nodded.
“Then may Fortune favor the brave!”