Free Caligula by Douglas Jackson Page A

ruined since he came to power. He must have calculated that even aristocratic louts like them would give him a contest worth watching. So what does the boy do? He puts on an exhibition. Went through them like a whirlwind. Cut, thrust, stab. They didn't even have time to parry. It must have lasted all of five minutes. When it was over, Gaius had to stand up and applaud with the rest, or he'd have looked silly. Gaius isn't going to forget Cupido in a hurry, and that's not good.'
    Rufus thought of the pain he had seen behind the storm-grey of Cupido's eyes, and the inner demons he had sensed. 'There must be something you can do to help him.'
    Fronto shook his head. 'The only person who can help Cupido is Cupido himself. Now, we must get back to business. One thing works in our favour. Gaius has decided the old Taurus is out of fashion. Apparently, he has been telling people he will never go back there. The Emperor isn't the only one who can put on a games. We still have friends in the city to back us. We'll survive.'
    So they returned to Rome, where the citizens had begun calling their young Emperor by a new name.
    Caligula.

IX
    He studied himself carefully in the big, silver gilt mirror. Yes, there was certainly another line on his forehead. And was his hair just a little thinner at the front? He turned his head to examine it from another angle, but it was difficult to tell. He waved the slave away and turned his attention to the two men standing nervously in the centre of the room.
    Sweat ran in little rivulets down either side of Nigrinus's face, seeping from his hairline just in front of his fleshy ears. How had the man become so fat? His jowls hung in several overlapping chins on to his chest and even the expensive toga couldn't hide the enormous girth of his belly. Consul of Rome? Hippopotamus of Rome more like.
    At least Proculus looked like a Roman. The strong features and long aquiline nose spoke of a lineage going back centuries. What a pity his abilities didn't match his bloodline.
    It had all seemed so simple at first. Get rid of his cousin and everything would fall into place. No more obstacles to his grand plan. But it had all gone wrong. It was the Senate, of course.
    'I didn't ask you here to tell me what you could not do, Nigrinus, but to show me you are capable of fulfilling your bargain. I backed you both for the consulship because you promised you could deliver the Senate. Now I discover that same Senate is obstructing me yet again.' He tried to keep his voice steady. He knew he had a habit of sounding petulant when he became angry, but it was so difficult to maintain one's temper when dealing with fools.
    'But Caesar, it is the cost. If it was only one palace, not a dozen . . . and the arch to commemorate your mother is on a scale unheard of. Your generosity to those made destitute by fire is admirable, but cannot be sustained. The great games you sponsor are becoming ruinous. We cannot squeeze another penny out of the Senate.' Proculus was truculent today. He obviously didn't like being reminded that someone else bought his office for him.
    His headache was coming back. Sometimes it felt as if his brain was being split in two. He would have to ask Agrippina for one of her potions – that would do the trick. Though the last one hadn't been quite as effective as usual; indeed it had made him feel a little strange. He rubbed his temples in an attempt to ease the increasing pain.
    'So Rome is to believe I don't mourn my mother? That I don't have the will to complete the temple in tribute to Divine Augustus, presently a hole in the ground in which not one brick has been laid upon another? Am I to go down in history as a pauper? No! You will find a way, Proculus, or you will be a consul no longer, for you will no longer have a head. If I need a replacement I will find one in my stables. My stallion Incitatus could do the job as well as either of you. Get out.'
    It was so unfair. All this, and the mob was getting