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However, he had already raised the other glass halfway to his unpleasant lips, when our visitor, the gnomic musician, addressed the serving wench as ‘Vicki’, followed by an exclamation mark.

‘ Veni, vidi, vici! ’ she agreed, with a saucy wink, before he could continue, but too late to dispel the impression that they had somewhere met before; and Nero, who is sometimes as quick on the uptake as the only slightly insane, lowered his own goblet thoughtfully, saying that for some reason he no longer felt thirsty, and perhaps I would like it? An offer I declined with an amused sneer.

Whereupon, having been through this ‘Pass the Poisoned Chalice’ routine together so often on long winter evenings, we both extended our toxic what’s-its in the general direction of Mad Max and his young confederate; who confirmed our dawning suspicions by rejecting the blue and bubbling beverages, the former accompanying his refusal with a lecture on the evils of strong drink, which was overdoing things rather, I thought, unless he really did know what was in it!

So, as usual, we put the matter to the test by summoning an independent arbitrator, the wretched Tigillinius drawing the short straw on this occasion; who shortly thereafter expired in a cloud of steam, and with what I’m sure would have been a strangled scream on his lips, had the poor fellow ever been capable of speech.

Although shocked by the occurrence, Max was clearly mollified to some extent by this immediate justification of his temperance principles, and later the conversation became general, as far as I remember. It was soon revealed that the suspect serving wench was in fact, Petullian’s ward, who had only been helping Locusta out below stairs to fill in the time, so all misunderstandings were resolved –

or as nearly so as they ever are in this abode of love and trust: and we invited them to join us in watching a gladiatorial contest featuring two recaptured galley-slaves tomorrow morning.

This invitation the old man rather churlishly refused, however, on the grounds that Vicki was far too young to watch so bloodthirsty a spectacle, however educational it might be, since it was likely also to deprave and corrupt (and where’s the harm in that, I would like to know?); while he himself felt that his time would be better spent in rehearsing his piece for its premiere in the evening, the poor fool!

So with many false expressions of mutual goodwill we parted; and I now look forward to seeing them torn to pieces by a howling mob of brutal and licentious music lovers after the performance.

Just another boring day in the life of a very ordinary Roman Empress. Heigh-ho as usual.

And so to bed,

DOCUMENT XXIII

Fifth Letter from Legionary (Second Class) Ascaris

Dear Mum,

I have already let you know the dodgy outcome of my last vain attempt to redeem ‘my fallen fortunes’, which ended in the sad death of my commanding officer, but was an accident, as he would be the first to admit was he so able. But without his valuable testimony as to his sitting in the wrong seat at the time of the stabbing, I have thought it best to keep my low profile in the sewer for a bit longer while things blow over me. Which I now believe they may have done, since no word has reached me to the contrary, or indeed at all for some time.

But I cannot rest here easy while Petullian lives, for he and the screaming baggage who must also go both saw me do the job, and so it is now them or me, as I’m sure you will quite understand. So here I go again, with a heart as high as the rest of me, to sort out the pair of them for keeps this time, let us hope!

After which I should be over-ripe for promotion if there is any justice; and a credit to you, like you suggested I should try being sometime.

Still no letter. Your very puzzled

Ascaris.

DOCUMENT XXIV

Sixth Extract from the Doctor’s Diary Neither of the Neros having had the grace to offer us accommodation for the night, and the events of the evening having persuaded me of the inadvisability of