Germanicus stood behind her, and Antonia, and Nero, and Drusus, with a rear guard of freedmen and slaves; also the fat little majordomo, Serenus. Some of the slaves bore torches, and in their light I could have sworn that I saw the shadow of a smile on the lips of Germanicus.
"Well?" demanded Agrippina.
Being in the presence of members of the imperial family, I had stood up as soon as Agrippina got through kicking me. I kept thinking of the slaves I had seen nailed to crosses along the Via Flaminia, and I had to concentrate on the fact that I was the great-grandson of Cingetorix to make my knees behave.
I was wondering what Little Boots would say. He said nothing-for the moment.
"Was it you, Servus?" the granddaughter of Augustus demanded, casting a mean eye on me, an eye surcharged with loathing.
"No," I said, "I would not dare."
The old girl turned that eye on Little Boots. The ball of one bare foot was tapping ominously upon the mosaic of the floor-on the rear end of a naked cherub, I recall.
"Caligula!" she barked. "You did it."
"I did not," yelled Little Boots, and he began to scream.
"That will do, Caligula! " snapped Germanicus, and that did do. Little Boots shut up.
"One of you must have done it," said Agrippina, still probing.
"We did not," said Little Boots, and I breathed again. "Nero did it." I stopped breathing.
Nero let out a yell that must have startled the sentries in the Praetorian Camp. "Shrimp! Beetle! Bedbug!" he screamed. "He lies!"
"I saw him," said Little Boots, without turning a hair. "He wanted me to do it, but I wouldn't."
"Wait 'till I get hold of you," said Nero. "I'll wring your foul neck; just wait."
"You'll do nothing of the kind," said Germanicus, "and we've had about enough of this. Get off to bed, all of you. Come on, Aggie; you're making an awful fuss over a little childish joke."
"Childish joke!" she snorted. "And how many times do I have to tell you not to call me Aggie?"
I lay awake for some time after they had gone away. I heard Agrippina stewing in her room for some little time, and the last thing I recall of that harrowing night was the snores of Antonia.
Chapter III
A.U.C.770 [A.D. 171]
THE NEXT day dawned clear and beautiful. A lark sang in the spacious gardens in the rear of the house of Antonia as Little Boots and I prepared to arise, eager for the great spectacle which we were to view this day-the triumph of Germanicus. The Roman sun looked down upon a Roman world; even the air was Roman air, and no cloud sullied the spotless blue of the Roman heavens-at least, not at first; then Nero Caesar burst upon our horizon, a thundercloud of the first magnitude.
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