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NERO
By Pueros Chapter XXV – Loyalties (Dacia, Iul. DCCCLIX, in the 8th year of the reign of the Emperor Trajan [July, AD 106]) ‘Fortes et strenuos etiam contra fortunam insistere; timidos et ignoros ad desperationem formidine properare.’ (The brave and bold persist even against fortune; the timid and cowardly rush to despair through fear alone.) - Tacitus (‘Annals’, II.46) My proficient scribe performs the recording of my life not to earn a living, as he is richer than me and does not need income, but rather to be able to use my remembrances in his own copious and notable histories. I have recently been reading one of his draft works, based on other sources. Interestingly for me, the book includes a description of the last stand made by the King of my own people from Britannia, the Catuvellauni. This reads:- ‘The army then marched against the Silures, a naturally fierce people and now full of confidence in the might of Caratacus, who by many an indecisive and many a successful battle had raised himself far above all the other generals of the Britons. Inferior in military strength, but deriving an advantage from the deceptiveness of the country, he at once shifted the war by a stratagem into the territory of the Ordovices, where, joined by all who dreaded peace with us [the Romans], he resolved on a final struggle. He selected a position for the engagement in which advance and retreat alike would be difficult for our men and comparatively easy for his own, and then on some lofty hills, wherever their sides could be approached by a gentle slope, he piled up stones to serve as a rampart. A river too of varying depth was in his front, and his armed bands were drawn up before his defences.
Then too the chieftains of the several tribes went from rank to rank, encouraging and confirming the spirit of their men by making light of their fears, kindling their hopes, and by every other warlike incitement. As for Caratacus, he flew hither and thither, protesting that that day and that battle would be the beginning of the recovery of their freedom, or of everlasting bondage. He appealed, by name, to their forefathers who had driven back the dictator Caesar, by whose valour they were free from the Roman axe and tribute, and still preserved inviolate the persons of their wives and of their children. While he was thus speaking, the host shouted applause; every warrior bound himself by his national oath not to shrink from weapons or wounds.
Such enthusiasm confounded the Roman general. The river too in his face, the rampart they had added to it, the frowning hilltops, the stern resistance and masses of fighting men everywhere apparent, daunted him. But his soldiers insisted on battle, exclaiming that valour could overcome all things; and the prefects and tribunes, with similar language, stimulated the ardour of the troops. Ostorius, having ascertained by a survey the inaccessible and the assailable points of the position, led on his furious men, and crossed the river without difficulty. When he reached the barrier, as long as it was a fight with missiles, the wounds and the slaughter fell chiefly on our soldiers; but when he had formed the military testudo, and the rude, ill-compacted fence of stones was torn down, and it was an equal hand-to-hand engagement, the barbarians retired to the heights. Yet even there, both light and heavy armed soldiers rushed to the attack; the first harassed the foe with missiles, while the latter closed with them, and the opposing ranks of the Britons were broken, destitute as they were of the defence of breast-plates or helmets. When they faced the auxiliaries, they were felled by the swords and javelins of our legionaries; if they wheeled round, they were again met by the sabres and spears of the auxiliaries. It was a glorious victory; the wife and daughter of Caratacus were captured, and his brothers too were admitted to surrender.’ Despite having lived in the Roman world for over 60 years, I could not prevent a few tears coming to my eyes, as I read my scribe’s account, which was undoubtedly accurate. After all, the writer was the son-in-law of a renowned Governor of Britannia. My tears stemmed from my residual affection for my people, the Catuvellauni, and their noble King, Caratacus. Reading about their last futile stand against the Roman suppression of my homeland had brought sadness to my mind, not least because I recalled the loss of my own father and older brother in another, earlier battle. However, I cheered when I now also remembered how I had been of later service for my tribe, their brave, defiant monarch and his family. (Britannia, 56 years earlier, summer DCCCIII A.V.C., in the 9th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [summer, AD 50]) ‘For Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, son of Drusus, High Priest, holding Tribunician power for the eleventh time, Consul for the fifth time, hailed Imperator in the field twenty-two times, Censor, Father of his Country. The Senate and the People of Rome have dedicated this because he accepted the surrender of eleven British kings, subdued without any losses, the first to reduce barbarian tribes across the Ocean to the rule of the Roman people.’ - an inscription on a triumphal arch built in Rome in AD 52 in recognition of the victorious campaigns of the Emperor Claudius in Britain The main hill-fort of the Brigantes, the tribe that inhabited much of the middle of the island of Britannia, dominated the local countryside, especially the valley beneath. Caratacus, some of his children and his few remaining followers had been forced to seek sanctuary with the local King, Venutius, and Queen, Cartimandua. However, his arrival had caused a dilemma and clash of loyalties because the local monarchs had recently allied themselves to the Romans in order to prevent their own people suffering at the hands of the mighty legions and to preserve their own regal positions. The King and Queen now had to choose between respecting the ancient traditions of Britannian hospitality or adhering to their treaty obligations, invoked because the new Roman Governor of Britannia, Publius Ostorius Scapula, had become aware of the location of Caratacus. The latter had quickly understood the predicament shared by Venutius and Cartimandua and would therefore have preferred to move on to try his luck elsewhere. However, whilst the debate between the local monarchs raged, he and his kin and followers were kept in enforced and closely guarded comfortable confinement. Unfortunately for my own King, Cartimandua’s view that the treaty between her tribe and the Romans had to be upheld, and Scapula’s request for the captive person of Caratacus met, eventually prevailed. Her leadership, with her husband, of the Brigantes had come to the pair mainly through her lineage, and so the Queen currently possessed greater power and influence over her people than her spouse. In disgusted response to the decision about which he was completely opposed but could do nothing to overturn, Venutius stormed out of the hill-fort, to go temporarily to live elsewhere in the tribal lands. There, he would nurture resentment against his wife that would one day lead to major strife. Meanwhile, Caratacus was sent to the delighted Romans in chains. Caratacus would remain in chains for many months, as he and his family were sent by a happy Scapula to Rome, where a vengeful Emperor and his executioner eagerly awaited their arrival. My King was accompanied on his long, sad journey by his wife and five young, very pretty children. The latter comprised three sons called Cyllin, Lleyn and Cynon and two daughters named Eurgain and Gladys, all of whom I believe shall be well known for generations to come. (Domus of Aulus Plautius, Rome, same time) ‘If virtue precedes us, every step will be safe.’ - Seneca the Younger Pomponia Graecina was once again quietly receiving as a guest for supper Cephas, who had somehow escaped expulsion from Rome during the recent purge against the Jews ordered by the Emperor Claudius. Meanwhile, the hostess' husband, the renowned general, Aulus Plautius, formerly first Governor of Britannia, whose armies had captured me and been responsible for the deaths of the rest of my family, and who was the epitome of loyalty to his friend, the Princeps, was at the Imperial palace. “I understand that Suffuscus has a new friend,” Cephas announced. “You are, as usual, well informed,” replied Pomponia Graecina, who, along with her husband, would be eternally grateful for the man’s suggestion that they should accept the delightful boy concerned into not only their household but also their hearts. “Let’s hope that at least a few of his admirable traits rub off on his new friend,” Cephas then wished, “as he could well become the next Emperor.” Pomponia Graecina could not agree more with her guest. (Imperial palace, Rome, same time) ‘Not all the epigrams I write Belong to naughtiness and the night. You’ll find a few that can be read Before midday, with a clear head!’ - Martial (‘Epigrams’, XI) Claudius and Aulus Plautius, having dined, were now drinking alone together, with only me present to taste the waiting unconsumed flagons of wine. I was already feeling light-headed because of my Imperial master’s earlier consumption and hoped that he and his guest would not keep me up until dawn, as they had sometimes done in the past. Sleep then had been most welcome and had overtaken me quickly. However, I did not enjoy the subsequent hangover, which, along with over-eating, was the main drawback of my profession, the latter requiring much time in the palace gymnasium to overcome. My one usual consolation for serving so late with appropriate loyalty was the talk that I overheard, which generally kept me well informed about current Imperial happenings and intrigues. I did not mind that I was serving the two men most responsible for the deaths of family and my own presence as a eunuch slave in Rome. I had long since forgiven their involvement, having recognised that they, like me, were simply caught up in the great maelstrom that was unfolding history, although their roles in life were, of course, currently much more important than mine. How was I to know at the time that I was eventually to play my own key parts in history? (Nemea, Argolis, Greece, same time) ‘First of all, it is inevitable that those who cannot live without each other will form a union.’ - Aristotle (‘Politics’) “Where do you plan to travel next?” the beautiful 17 year-old Athenodorus, currently crowned with his celery wreath, asked of my beloved 20 year-old Gaius, as the former continued to enjoy his victory feast. “It is my particular wish to see the wonders of the world,” the handsome young man from Volsinii answered, “which means that, while we’re on the Peloponnese, I must go to Olympia, even though it’s not a year when the Games will be held there. I believe that Pheidias’ statue of Zeus in the main temple simply has to be viewed!” “I understand that it’s made of ivory and gold on a marble base and is taller than eight grown men,” Gaius reflected. “You’re correct,” advised Athenodorus’ 21 year-old trainer and lover, Melankomas, “so it’s perhaps fortunate that Zeus is forever seated on a throne because he’d surely rip the temple roof off if he ever attempted to stand!” Even 8 year-old Hylas, as ever at my beloved’s side and treated by his master more like a young son than a slave and previously preoccupied by satisfying the needs of his rather cute belly, joined in the subsequent laughter. “The magnificence of the statue of Zeus Olympios is, however, trumped by another at Olympia,” suggested Melankomas, after the laughter had eventually died and with a clear look of immense happiness on his own handsome face. “The god’s splendid edifice is crowned by an olive wreath,” the 21 year-old then informed, “just as the smaller but nevertheless, to me, more resplendent one of Athenodorus is outside the temple, amongst the statuary portraying the greatest Olympic champions of all time!” Athenodorus blushed on hearing such flattery but retaliated by announcing, with obvious similar pride, “I think the statue depicting Melankomas is the true wonder of the world in Olympia, although not as wondrous as the real, living being!” The glance that was then exchanged between the two renowned athletic champions left no-one in any doubt about the deep loving loyalty that both young males held for each other. After the usual month-long abstinence from sex during the lead-up to the latest important games, it was also an affection that both were eagerly anticipating consummating again very soon. Hylas, displaying his now frequent curiosity, innocently interrupted this loving reverie by enquiring “Is Zeus’ statue all ivory and gold?” “Not quite,” Melankomas replied, “as the core is wooden.” Melankomas then advised “Ivory was fixed onto the wood to be moulded and carved into the shape of a bare-chested Zeus. He holds a golden winged figure of Victory, denoting Olympic triumph, in his right hand and, in his other, depicting sovereignty over the rest of the gods, a metal inlay sceptre, with his symbol, an eagle, perched on top. Gold was also used for his lower drape and sandals, and the former is decorated with fine details of animals and lilies. The throne on which his massive form is seated is of ebony, ivory and gold, and is a magnificent work in its own right, being engraved with mythological figures and scenes and encrusted with precious stones. His feet rest on a large footstool, guarded by solid gold lions and in front of which, surrounded by painted screens, is a black marble basin, used to collect the olive oil occasionally poured over the edifice to prevent the ivory from cracking.” “There is also a large square pool of olive oil in front of the statue,” Athenodorus now interrupted enthusiastically, “which makes the sight of Zeus Olympios even more awe-inspiring because of the added spectacular reflection.” “Oooohhhh,” the very pretty Hylas cooed in suitable wonder before asking “Where did the ivory come from?” “From the tusks of African animals,” Melankomas now patiently resumed, “which were unrolled and the resultant sheets softened with vinegar to make moulding and carving easier.” “Oooohhhh,” Hylas repeated before turning to his master and begging, with the common innocent familiarity by which he addressed his saviour from a life worse than death, “We must see it, Gaius!” The young man from Volsinii replied, with his usual disarming smile and to the delight of the child, “And see it, we shall!” “I suppose Athens is already on your itinerary,” Athenodorus then commented, to Gaius’ nodded positive acknowledgement, “and, of course, that metropolis boasts two other massive statues by Pheidias in the Parthenon and elsewhere on the Acropolis, both in the form of the goddess Athena. However, if you want to visit other wonders whilst visiting the Greek world, may I suggest that a trip to Melankomas’ home city of Halicarnassus in Caria would be worthwhile. The 400 year-old tomb of King Mausolus is a sight not to be missed!” “If you timed your visit right,” Melankomas now interceded, “I’d be delighted to act as your host. My home city is also convenient to journey to Ephesus, where the huge Temple of Artemis simply must be viewed. Nearby Rhodus is also worthy of a trip to see the ruins of the great Colossus, which are over 300 years old.” As Melankomas made his suggestion, Gaius could not help but recall that the island, on which the Colossus had stood for only half a century before being toppled by an earthquake, was the homeland of Apollinus and Helius. He now thought that he would indeed go to view the monumental ruins, which still attracted many visitors, and take back some souvenirs for these delightful boys, whom he considered to be close friends despite their relatively low social status. Of course, my beloved did not realise at the time that his decision would prove very fateful for another youngster, someone of rather higher standing in society than the two Rhodians. (Corinth, Achaea, Greece, same time) ‘With regards to the gods, I cannot feel sure either that they are or that they are not, nor what they are like in figure, for there are many things that hinder sure knowledge, the obscurity of the subject and the shortness of human life.’ - Protagoras In nearby Corinth, the city to which Gaius and Hylas had sailed from Rome and passed through on their way to Nemea, a tentmaker named Aquila and his wife, Priscilla, had also recently arrived from the Imperial capital. However, they were not on a grand tour of the Empire like my beloved but had instead been expelled, along with many of their kind, from Latium on the orders of the Emperor Claudius, for they were both Jews. Despite being a Hebrew, Aquila was actually a Roman citizen and could therefore have contested his expulsion from Rome but he chose not to do so, believing that leaving the Imperial capital was safer for his family. His view did not stem from fear of the authorities but rather of fellow Jews, who disliked his conversion to the new Christian sect and had caused the violence that had forced the Emperor, normally notable for religious tolerance, to take his drastic action in order to secure municipal peace. For both Aquila and Priscilla, the saddest part about departing from Rome for their new lives in Corinth had been leaving behind their best friend, Rufus Pudens Pudentius, who happened to be an assistant of the renowned general, Aulus Plautius. Rufus Pudens Pudentius was also the half-brother, sharing the same mother, of a certain travelling Christian preacher named Paul.
(Umbria, Italia, one week later) ‘An unapparent connection is stronger than an apparent one!’ - Heraclitus the Obscure From amongst the copious grapevines, 19 year-old Servius noticed the familiar carpentum arrive at the small complex of red-roofed buildings that represented the heart of Palaemon’s well-run Umbrian estate, which was located alongside the River Nar and was primarily devoted to viniculture. The adopted brother of Apollinus and Helius wondered whether the owner of the large rural property had unexpectedly made his way along the Via Flaminia from Rome to visit, not that this would have been unpleasant. Four people eventually clambered out of the coach, none of whom were Palaemon or his lovely young lover, Axenius. The arrivals, being greeted by the former galley slave’s new parents, to whom he owed much loyalty and love, instead comprised a man of about 30, a youth of 18 and two 9 year-old boys. Even from a distance in the evening twilight, Servius immediately recognised the handsome shape of his new similarly aged 18 year-old adoptive brother, Apollinus, and, although he had never met the boys previously, he also realised who the youngest visitors had to be. His new parent’s highly respectful greeting of the two 9 year-olds had provided the main clue. Servius therefore ran all the way back to the buildings that now represented his happy home, which was in stark contrast to the hell he had once endured in the bowels of a galley. He was eager to meet the boy who might one day become the next Emperor and his best friend. It was clear that Apollinus had brought his young master, the present Princeps’ natural son, Tiberius Claudius Britannicus, and the eponymous offspring of Titus Flavius Vespasianus to Palaemon’s vineyard, presumably for a summer holiday at their principal tutor’s rural retreat. Servius was soon to discover that his guess as to the boys’ identity was correct, and that their 30 year-old adult escort was another of their tutors, Cornutus. Despite both being employees of Palaemon, they had not met each other previously. However, after being introduced, they would soon make up for lost time in becoming rapid friends. Just as Gaius’ far away but simultaneous decision to visit Rhodus was to prove very fateful for a certain young person, the present meeting between Servius, Cornutus and the two young boys was to have a radical and not unconnected effect on future history. (Imperial palace, Rome, same time) ‘Aristippus, being asked what were the most necessary things for well-born boys to learn, said “Those things which they will put in practice when they become men!”’ - Diogenes “Well,” 15 year-old Helius declared to his older lover, Doryphoros, “I was surprised. I found the boy to be very charming and polite, nothing like the tales I’ve heard. Even Apollinus and Bicilus, who are usually very accurate in their summations, assured me that young Nero was a little monster!” Helius and Doryphoros had just left Nero’s luxuriant chambers in the Imperial palace, having just discussed, in their new role, the administrative affairs of the Emperor’s newly adopted son with the boy himself, who was about to depart on his own belated summer break from Rome. “I believe,” Doryphoros announced confidently, “that Nero used to be quite horrible until only a week ago. However, our new charge then met the boy who was with him today, Suffuscus, who’s the adopted son of the general, Aulus Plautius. Since then, a complete transformation has overcome the prince’s character, even to the extent of making healthy changes to his exercise and diet.” “It just shows you what effect loyal friends can have on you!” the beautiful Helius then suggested, as he discreetly advanced his hand to hold that of Doryphorus. (Narnia, Umbria, Italia, same time) ‘First say to yourself what you would be, and then do what you have to do!’ - Epictetus “Narnia is supposed to be the geographical centre of Italia,” 15 year-old Marcus Cocceius Nerva proudly advised his two new friends, the similarly aged Silius Italicus and 17 year-old Gaius Rubellius Plautus, who were holidaying with him in his hometown. “It could do with a decent bridge to enable people travelling the Via Flaminia to traverse the local river in comfort,” the oldest boy suggested, as the threesome was becoming wet whilst they were ferried in a small boat across the Nar. However, it was perhaps the discomfort of having to sit on an uncushioned surface, rather than the accruing dampness, that was of most concern to the great grandson of the Emperor Tiberius. His pert bottom had not yet fully recovered from the beating inflicted by Seneca, who had been awarded ‘pater potestas’ over him, in Rome a week previously. “It would have to be the biggest bridge in the world,” Nerva declared, “given the proportions of the gorge it would have to cross!” However, the boy’s eyes gleamed at the thought, as he dreamed of perhaps one day gaining a position in which he could be responsible for gifting such a mammoth construction as a sign of loyalty and devotion towards his hometown. (Imperial palace, Rome, same time) ‘If my sound advice you heed, if you follow where I lead, You’ll be healthy, you’ll be strong and you’ll be sleek; You’ll have muscles that are thick and a pretty little prick, You’ll be proud of your appearance and physique!’ - Aristophenes (‘The Clouds’) “I’ll go with you,” the sweetly smiling 13 year-old brown haired and eyed beauty called Suffuscus appraised Nero, “to show my devotion and loyalty to my princely friend, if only to ensure that you keep to a healthy exercise and diet. However, there’s one condition. You must agree not to play the lyre to me when we’re there!” Agrippina’s son, a year younger than his recently acquired, only true friend, who had just consented to holiday with him, could not help but return the grin. No-one else, apart from Britannicus, had ever dared to tell the newly renamed Nero, who was already looking much happier and healthier because of his association with Suffuscus, that his ability at playing the lyre left much room for improvement. However, the 12 year-old was somehow prepared not only to accept his new friend’s honesty towards him but also to revel in such revelations, which were always delivered with friendliness and humour to help mitigate the underlying message. Nero had never previously willingly accepted such bluntness regarding his appearance and aptitudes from anyone but there was something about Suffuscus that encouraged him now to do so, and to enjoy the privilege of the gorgeous boy’s advice and loyal friendship. However, the prince’s attitude might have changed radically if he had known the 13 year-old’s secret true background. (Colonia Agrippina, Germania Inferior, same time) ‘It is a consolation to the wretched to have companions in misery.’ - Publius Syrus 18 year-old Marcus Salvius Otho looked into the garden outside the tiny window of his dwelling, which was much humbler than what he was accustomed to in Rome. The sky overhead was a deep grey, the rain poured down from the heavens and the atmosphere was chilly, again in stark contrast to the summer weather he could have anticipated in the Imperial capital. ‘Oh, gods,’ Marcus Salvius Otho thought to himself, ‘I’d have much preferred a good flogging for throwing that Senator into the Tiber than exile to this dreadful clime. My respect and loyalty towards my father’s ‘pater potestas’ is simply costing me too much!’ He then saw one of the household slaves rush by the window to return to the kitchens, having just collected, despite the rain, some herbs from the garden. The 18 year-old had not noticed the 11 year-old blonde, blue-eyed boy before. ‘Hmmm,’ Marcus Salvius Otho now thought to himself, whilst his cock, hidden under his toga virilis, began to grow quickly and throb eagerly, ‘perhaps there may be some compensations after all!’ (Domus of Palaemon, Rome, same time) ‘As I see it, wealth is not a material possession that one can keep in one’s house as if it were an object, but a disposition of the soul….’ - Xenophon (‘Symposium’, 4.34) “Everything’s ready,” Axenius announced. “Good,” replied the very wealthy Palaemon, as he left his palatial domus to climb into the new carpentum he had just purchased. The renowned teacher had decided that owning just one coach and hiring others when required was no longer sufficient for his needs. There were simply too many young men, youths and boys, with whose welfare he had somehow become benevolently and loyally entangled, to manage without ready access to a second vehicle. The waiting carpentum was heavily loaded, as were the accompanying packhorses, as Palaemon and his young lover were journeying to Axenius’ homeland. Having safely despatched Britannicus and Titus to enjoy their school holidays in the quietude of Umbria, with the permission of the boys’ fathers and Seneca, and under the proficient oversight of Cornutus and Apollinus, they hoped to spend their own vacation in Germania. There, they intended to try to trace the young eunuch’s family to ensure their welfare. The idea did not emanate from Axenius, who would never have been so presumptuous to suggest the trip, but from Palaemon, who had begun to ask the young eunuch about his family and former life in Germania. However, both fully appreciated that not only would their task be difficult but also the very journey might be perilous. Accordingly, their little convoy was accompanied not only by some loyal slaves but also by few hired and grizzled mercenaries, all former legionaries. (Corduba, Baetica, southern Hispania, same time) ‘Objects which are usually the motives of our travels by land and by sea are often overlooked and neglected if they lie under our eye….We put off from time to time, going and seeing what we know we have an opportunity of seeing when we please.’ - Pliny the Younger In not dissimilar fashion, albeit without the protective soldiers as Hispania was considered far safer than Germania, the happy and loyal friends, 16 year-old Persius and Quintilianus and 11 year-old Lucanus, were setting off for the second half of their summer holidays. They were travelling to the province of Tarraconensis, where Calagurris was located in the district of Vascones on the River Iberus. (Imperial palace, Rome, same time) ‘The origin of crimes is passion, desire or ignorance, so that only when the soul is clouded or the mind uninstructed will people do wrong!’ - Plato Epaphroditus, Nero’s personal slave, who had transferred with his young master to reside at the Imperial palace, was another to be amazed at the recent transformation in his 12 year-old charge. He was also another who prayed to the gods that the change would become permanent. Meanwhile, Agrippina had , despite external appearances influenced by Seneca’s return from exile, not altered her character. The newly appointed Augusta was intent on unconsciously proving Plato’s maxim, quoted above, wrong and consolidating her position and that of her son at the expense of potential rivals for the inheritance of the Principate. The Empress did not consider Britannicus to be a serious contender unless the 9 year-old lived to manhood and somehow acquired influential backers. Neither were scenarios that she proposed to let happen, although she could also afford to wait to ensure that this was so. Agrippina was instead currently targeting other people whom she considered to be even greater current threats to her and her son if the visibly ageing and ailing Claudius suddenly died. She was planning to eliminate such rivals carefully and gradually, by exploiting her husband’s paranoia about disrespect and treachery amongst those around him and disparaging their loyalty to the Emperor. She additionally proposed to utilise the even simpler expediency of murder. One of the main beneficiaries of Agrippina’s plans was to be the profits of the funerary establishment run by the 20 year-old black eunuch, Nigerinus. A certain popular gladiatorial hero would also gain. (Plebeian quarter, Rome, same time) ‘Oft hath even a whole city reaped the evil fruit of a bad man.’ - Hesiod Nigerinus himself had just completed work for the day and, as was now customary, had decided to proceed to a nearby favourite inn to dine. The narrow local thoroughfares contained many such establishments, commonly called ‘popina’, varying in size from tiny rooms opening directly onto the street to larger places with inside seating. Some, known as ‘caupona’, possessed guestrooms above. Nigerinus' culinary loyalty was towards one of the bigger inns, where an entrance marble-topped wall-rack, next to external bench seating, displayed tableware available for sale, as well as samples of the food on that day’s menu. There were other display shelves, cupboards and a counter inside, also veneered with marble, and with large jars, or ‘dolia’, set into the latter from which hot food and drinks could be served, having being transferred from a nearby storage oven. There was also a pair of basins for washing goblets and dishes. Amphorae on additional shelving behind, and on an upper mezzanine floor, contained wines and beer. The whole scene was decorated by colourful paintings and frescoes, depicting much of the fare available for purchase. An adjacent kitchen provided the venue for most of the cooking, as well as for the cooling of wine in a huge dolium sunk into the ground. At the rear of the establishment was a small open courtyard, with plain mosaic paving, a small fountain and stone benches, providing extra seating for customers. On the other side of this yard was a doorway that concealed a gambling den, where bets on the likes of chariot racing could be placed and games of chance played. Nigerinus never visited this den as, like the patrician family to which he was a young loyal freedman, he disapproved of such gambling, although Aulus Plautius did not mind throwing dice with the Emperor. Instead, the nullified black eunuch sat at his usual table, which the proprietor invariably reserved for him at this daily time. He ate an olive appetiser and then ordered the recommended dish of the day, which was a variety of ‘ofellae’, or small circular pieces of dough with topping. He washed his meal down with cool red wine, flavoured with herbs. Meanwhile, in the nearby surreptitious den, the cock-less gladiator, Didius, had just lost another small fortune. He had never enjoyed as much success with gambling as he had with killing other men, and now owed his creditors a lot of money. Didius might be lethal with his net and trident but he knew that the ruthless people to whom he was indebted could be even more deadly if not repaid. The retiarius therefore knew that he needed another lucrative special commission soon or he might as well fall in the arena, which was an original objective that he had long since grown out of, as his fame and reputation had increased. Despite no longer possessing his manhood and still enduring associated permanently unsatisfied desires, Didius now wanted to live to glory in his renowned ability to despatch fellow gladiators to Hades. He had saved himself previously from his brutal creditors by agreeing to perform special, secret work and it appeared that he would have to do so again. Didius now once more furtively offered his services as a highly efficient assassin to Rome’s criminal underworld. (North-west Britannia, same time) ‘War loves to seek its victims in the young.’ - Sophocles The handsome, young 19 year-old Roman soldier was terrified. He had been captured by the dreaded Druids and had been bound by them, helplessly spreadeagled and naked, between two of their sacred oak trees. The legionary believed that he was about to be the subject of some awful Druidic right, as his exposed, low hanging, shaved genitals had been tightly bound around the scrotum with leather cord and incongruously decorated with mistletoe so that white berries rested on his vulnerable sac. The 19 year-old, having heard tales of Druidic barbarism, began to fear for his manhood. (To be continued in chapter XXXVI – ‘Druids’)
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