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NERO
By Pueros Chapter XXXVIII – Wonders (Dacia, Iul. DCCCLIX, in the 8th year of the reign of the Emperor Trajan [July, AD 106]) ‘Non omnis moriar.’ (‘I will not die entirely.’) - Horace (referring to his written work in ‘Carmina’) As I narrate my lengthy autobiography to my worthy scribe, currently almost 56 years after the events I am presently describing took place, I am amazed. I am amazed at the wonder of both the vividness of my memory, for a eunuch now over ¾ of a century old, and your patience, dear reader, for continuing to follow my remembrances. My admiration for your persevering stamina is boosted by the fact that I have a naughty habit of teasing you. I drop perhaps not too subtle references to the future influences some of the characters and incidents in my story will have, including individuals who are still boys or girls as I pick up my narrative. Such sway was often on not only mortals around them but also Rome, and therefore the history of the known world, as the majority of them formed some of the most important people of my era in one way or another. I am afraid that I shall continue to test your forbearance by resuming my teasing in this chapter of my long saga, as well as in others to follow. However, I promise to reward you, loyal reader, with not only much knowledge about the years during which I lived but also full acquaintance with the ultimate destinies of all the principal personages in my life story, as far as they are known to me. By the ultimate but still distant conclusion of my tale, you should know almost as much as I do about my life and times. (Imperial palace, Rome, 56 years previously, summer, DCCCIII A.V.C., in the 9th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [AD 50]) ‘Whenever the population of any city increased to such an extent that the produce of the land was no longer enough for them all, or whenever the earth was damaged by changes of the weather so it would fail for fruit and bear less abundantly than usual, or for any occurrence such as years either excessively good or bad, which made it necessary for them to lessen their numbers, they would dedicate to some god or the other all the men born within a certain year and, giving them weapons, would send them out of the country….Those who departed, feeling that they had no share in the land of their fathers but must get another land for themselves, looked upon any place that received them in friendship, or which they conquered in war, as their country thereafter.’ - Dionysus of Halicarnassus (‘Roman Antiquities’, 1.17) As the Emperor had promised during the previous night, or actually, to be more precise, subsequent mid-morning, Claudius began, in his customary stammering manner, our next evening’s conversation with the story about the rape of the Sabine women. I have guiltily to confess that the tale disappointed me, as I rather sadistically expected a narrative that related to the forced molestation of female captives. In defence of my devilish tastes at the time, I should here like to remind the reader that, in DCCCIII A.V.C., I was only a rather immature 18 year-old. The wonder about the story of the Sabine women is that it does not involve rape in the proper meaning of the word in today’s Imperial era. The term should actually be interpreted, from the Latin ‘rapere’, as ‘seize’ instead of in its modern context. Romulus and his followers apparently found themselves rather short of women after the foundation of Rome. Consequently, they asked their nearest neighbours, the Sabine people, to provide them with wives. However, the latter refused, although they did rather foolishly accept an invitation to attend a festival. Half way through the festival, Romulus and his followers descended on the unmarried women amongst the Sabine guests and carried as many as they could find to their citadel to become their wives. To commemorate that these early brides did not come willingly, later Romans customarily carried their new spouses over the thresholds of their new homes, a tradition that continues to this day. “Well, Sire,” I advised Claudius at the end of his story, whilst trying not to sound disappointed at the lack of vivid sexual action in the tale, “I seem to learn something new from you every day!” “Did y….y….you know, B….B….Bicilus,” the Emperor then responded, “that I myself have S….S….Sabine a….a….ancestry?” “No, Sire,” I replied, although I was sure that I was about to learn all about it over the hours ahead. (Calagurris, province of Tarraconensis, northern Hispania, two days later) ‘Vestis virum reddit.’ (‘The clothes make the man.’) - Quintilian Quintilianus’ riverside familial domus in Calagurris, on the quiet and pleasant tree-lined banks of the Iberus, was more like a palatial rural villa than an urban residence. However, Q’s surrounds were currently far from his bright mind, and that of his holidaying friends, the similarly-aged 16 year-old Persius and 11 year-old Lucanus. He was instead concentrating on the ceremony, in his familial home, in which he would receive his toga virilis, denoting the transition into manhood, despite the fact that his exterior, like that of P and, of course, L, still retained a very pretty boyish façade. Perhaps nothing distinguishes the Romans from other peoples more than the peculiar male apparel inherited from the Etruscans and known as the ‘toga’, the female equivalent being the ‘palla’, often worn over her tunic, called ‘stola’. All free citizens can wear such attire but, because of its impracticability, it tends to be used only by the upper classes on formal occasions, which is why many statues portray important men and women so dressed. However, for any kind of dynamic activity, the garments are completely unsuitable. A toga has no fastenings or stitchings of any kind, comprising just a single piece of fine woven wool, measuring almost 20 adult feet across the circumference in the shape of a semicircle, whilst the similar palla is rectangular. I suspect that factors for the continued use of these impractical garments include the realities that present-day needles, generally of bone or bronze, are rather clumsy and unattractive and thread is usually very coarse, causing sewing often to be both inelegant and ineffective. Additional reasons undoubtedly involve dislike of buttons, which are rare, other clothes being held together mainly by belts, knots, enormous safety pins or not at all, and the upper class Roman love of tradition.
The elaborately folded constituent masses are actually only held in place by careful draping over the shoulders and left arm, which has to be kept bent to prevent disaster. Adult attire is usually not dyed and therefore displays a woollen shade similar to that of oatmeal, although the male garments are deliberately whitened with chalk when the wearer presents himself for political office in a ‘toga candida’, ‘candidati’ meaning ‘clothed in glittering white’. Successful office holders, including Senators, are, however, permitted to display purple stripes, or ‘clavi’, descending from each shoulder, with similar edgings. Strangely, the equivalent garment of children of both genders, the ‘toga praetexta’, is also permitted the latter fringe decoration, whilst only the Emperor wears dress that is entirely of the expensive colour, following the tradition of generals celebrating triumphs in republican times. Meanwhile, dark, undyed wool is exhibited by those in mourning or other distress. The latter might include solemnly commemorating a national disaster or the more personal one of being on trial. In my time, the attire is, probably rather sensibly, not very popular for everyday use, being largely limited to those who wish to advertise their social status, which often includes upper class boys who are now officially men, having acquired the toga virilis. There are several reasons for this general unpopularity, which once caused the divine Augustus to reproach his fellow citizens for neglecting their national dress. The donning of a toga is a lengthy and complex process, often having to be frustratingly repeated several times until the required near-perfection is achieved. In fact, the only man whom I can recall who mastered the procedure without help was the senior Titus Flavius Vespasianus. He caused amazed wonder amongst many visitors by quickly and proficiently dressing in front of them whilst talking. The attire is also awkward and impractical for storage, with no pockets, only folds in which to carry possessions. Although warm in winter, wearing of the garment can additionally be torture in hot summers. Consequently, people generally prefer to wear simple tunics, similar to the Greek type. These garments, which the poor usually cannot afford to have tailored, just comprise two off-white rectangular woollen pieces, located at the front and back, joined at the shoulders and tied at the waist by means of a cord belt. Excess width provides any required sleeves, unless you are rich and able to afford the variety benefiting from tailoring. The length for the normal working person requiring mobility is to the knee, whilst the more idle wealthy can enjoy the modesty and, in winter, comfort of longer versions. For formal dinners, upper class males sometimes wear the ‘synthesis’, a type of gown with a front opening. I recall my later friend, the epigrammatist, Marcus Valerius Martialus, being particularly biting about a rich acquaintance who changed this type of garment ten times during a meal. Tunics are sometimes supplemented in cool weather by a ‘pallium’, which is a simple cloak draped over one shoulder and then around the waist, to be held in place by an uplifted arm. Another cloak, a ‘paenula’, which is much more practical for inclement weather, being all-embracing, hooded, long-sleeved and fastened at the front by toggles, is also common for those who can afford the luxury. Meanwhile, footwear, for those who can spare the expense and for which there is little difference between those produced for males or females, generally consists of leather hobnailed sandals, tied round the ankles by thongs, or boots. For formal occasions, soft shoes, or ‘calcei’, are fashionable. Not far to the north from where Marcus Valerius Martialus emanated, Bilbilis in Hispania Tarraconensis, Quintilianus was now formerly exchanging his purple-edged toga praetexta of boyhood for the undyed toga virilis of manhood. Having left the status of an ‘infans’ long ago, Q was now moving from that of an ‘impubes’ into that of a ‘pubertas’. The ceremony normally takes place on the sixteenth day of the month of Mars, which immediately follows the Ides, at the Bacchanalian festival of the ‘Liberalia’, so called after ‘Liber Pater’, or ‘Free Father’, another name for the god Bacchus. During this festival, priests and priestesses, adorned with garlands of ivy, carry wine, honey, cakes and sweet-meats through cities, together with an ‘ansata ara’, which is a portable altar with handles. In the middle of the latter, there is a small fire-pan, or ‘foculus’, in which animal sacrifices are burnt. The event is often also associated with the games known as the ‘Ludi Liberales’, which I have previously described, as well as alternative amusements and much other merriment, often of a licentious kind. Roman youths who attain their sixteenth year usually receive the toga ‘virilis’, meaning ‘opens in another window’, at this time. The occasion is generally supervised by a priest and followed by a celebratory dinner. The associated manhood investiture takes place only with the adult male members of the boy’s family present. Persius and Lucanus therefore had to occupy themselves elsewhere whilst the ceremony proceeded. However, what P and L mutually indulged in compensation, whilst naked in a secluded spot on the Iberus riverbank, was definitely in the licentious spirit of the Liberalia, although the current ceremony involving Q was necessarily occurring out of season because of his schooling in Rome. Meanwhile, Quintilianus probably would have preferred to be with his friends. He became quite bored with the ceremonial speeches of challenge made to him by his adult male relations, which were designed to impress upon him the seriousness of citizenry, and associated ritual offerings given to the gods at the house shrines. Q was, in fact, rather grateful when these lengthy preliminaries concluded and he could finally stand in the centre of the group and take off his toga praetexta of boyhood and replace it with his new ‘toga virilis’, the robe of a man. From now on, Quintilianus, although still subject to his father’s ‘pater potestas’, or supervisory power, had gained adult privileges and responsibilities. Q could now conduct business in his own name, including buying and selling property. He could vote in the Assembly of the People, marry and in many other ways carry on as a full Roman citizen. Despite the unseasonal timing of the ceremony, the gods must have looked down benevolently on proceedings because Quintilianus was to grow to be a man and Roman citizen thoroughly worthy of both titles. (Imperial palace, Rome, later that night) ‘But I will speak about whose houses he has lived in, disgracing his own body, and the city, earning wages by the very activity that the law prohibits to be undertaken….’ - Aeschines (referring to male prostitution in ‘Against Timarchus’, 1.40) I emerged from the somnolent Burrus’ palace quarters, my still very wonderful form having entertained the Imperial Procurator proficiently for over an hour until, his balls drained, he had fallen asleep. Duty having now been guiltily fulfilled, I therefore retired to my own bedchamber, which was currently rather lonely because of the absence in Umbria of my fellow slave, Apollinus. However, as I advanced to my room, I felt rather soiled, just as I had done when people like Caius Silius and Aulus Vitellius had made use of my body for their sexual entertainment. My feelings did not relate to Burrus as a man, because I actually like him, albeit not sexually, or because I believed that I had betrayed my beloved Gaius. My distaste for myself instead arose because I had deliberately allowed myself to be lured to the Procurator’s bed whilst seeking reward, just like a common whore. My only excuse was that the price for the prostitution of my body was not in anyway personal but rather selfless, and was a cost my young lover from Volsinii would have not only understood and forgiven but also undoubtedly praised. You see, reader, in line with my secret alliance with Narcissus to protect Britannicus, I hoped that an affair with Burrus would place myself as a spy in Agrippina’s camp, my aim to acquire data through pillow talk. I expected to benefit from the fact that men often relax their mental defences immediately before and after coitus and therefore become rather informative concerning issues about which they should perhaps be more circumspect. I was confident at the time that I registered little in Agrippina’s mind. I therefore believed that she would not be concerned about her main confidential bodyguard enjoying a fling with her husband’s young and very pretty eunuch food taster, despite the fact that I shared a palace room with Britannicus’ principal personal slave, Apollinus, and was an acquaintance of the boy’s tutors. In fact, I hoped that my advent into Burrus’ bed might persuade the Empress that I could be considered one of her own political camp followers. I have to confess, though, that the idea was not my own. It had been the wily Narcissus who had suggested to Claudius that I should learn the skill of wielding a sword, and that Burrus would be an ideal teacher. The Imperial secretary had already appreciated from give-away looks that the Procurator fancied me. Narcissus was never one to shy away from suggesting the use of sexual seduction to aid his causes, especially if the perpetrator was merely a slave. The Imperial secretary had therefore felt no compunction in asking me to embark upon the distasteful mission. As I have previously mentioned, my beloved Gaius was liberal in respect of my sexual activities, especially when he was not around. However, I was initially reluctant to agree to the demeaning move proposed by Narcissus. I wished to confine access to the substantial allures of my body to those to whom I was emotionally and physically attracted, such as earlier paramours like Apollinus, Helius and Petronius. However, the thought of assisting the delightful Britannicus to survive palace political intrigues finally won the day. Nevertheless, I still felt like a common whore when I emerged from Burrus’ bedchamber.
(Germania Inferior, several weeks later, early autumn, DCCCIII A.V.C. [AD 50]) ‘Pauci veniunt ad senectutem.’ (‘Few men come to old age.’) - Cicero Arminius, now 69 years old and having efficiently supervised the apparent demise of all of the people accompanying the Roman carpentum, except for one young passenger, issued some authoritative commands in the Chatti tongue. Fellow warriors, mobility assisted by being lightly armed and devoid of armour, and being covered instead by their customary loose cloaks, fastened at the neck by brooches, immediately rushed to obey, including the one who had almost killed Axenius. He returned the sword that had threatened the 20 year-old’s life to the scabbard on his broad leather belt, before going to assist his comrades in collecting their booty, namely the possessions of the dead, including the horses. Palaemon’s mules, which were carrying luggage and provisions, were especially prized. Meanwhile, Arminius, who was remarkably fit for his age, helped his long-lost grandson to regain his feet. Axenius did not now mean to be ungrateful for the assistance or his life, or show discourtesy on meeting his grandfather again after a gap of over ten years. However, he could not help himself from initially ignoring his relative to rush instead towards the prone, still and bloody figure of his lover, Palaemon. A warrior was about to retrieve his spear from Palaemon’s chest when Axenius pushed him aside and then yelled at him, in his own native language, remembrance of which was somehow returning to the 20 year-old after a decade of neglect. “Leave him alone!” screamed the young Germanian, who, because of his smooth face and rich foreign civilian attire, looked like an effeminate Roman to all the Chatti, apart from Arminius, who had not yet acquainted his colleagues as to why he had spared the young man’s life. Their leader’s command had been enough, for no-one ever questioned his authority. The warrior, insulted at being so treated by the ridiculous Roman, immediately withdrew his sword afresh from his scabbard. However, the weapon was quickly returned to its sheath when another loud command from Arminius echoed around the tree-lined environs. Axenius fell to his knees to examine Palaemon closely, including putting his ear to the man’s bloody chest. “He’s still breathing!” the 20 year-old then announced in Latin, which only his grandfather amongst the other Chatti present could understand. Arminius approached the spot where Axenius was obviously extremely concerned about a particular Roman, as well as, judging from the worried confusion evident on young man’s undoubtedly handsome face, perplexed as to what to do. “Why is this person of interest to you?” the Chatti leader asked as he reached his grandson’s side, with his voice hinting at clear disdain for such foreigners in his homeland. However, when the tearful blue eyes of the 20 year-old looked up towards him, the 69 year-old immediately realised the answer, as he himself had endured a similar tragedy. Axenius was experiencing great difficulty in replying to his grandfather’s question but Arminius helped him out by no longer seeking a verbal answer. The man, with the long hair, extravagant moustache and copious beard, all of shiny silver, instead suggested in Latin “Trust me!” Arminius produced a knife and used the weapon to tear some cloth off Palaemon’s toga, before throwing the extracted material to Axenius. He then carefully pulled the spear out of the chest of the unconscious shaven Roman, who sported much shorter silvery hair, and instructed his grandson to use the garment fragment to stop the resultant copious blood-flow from the revealed gaping wound. The Chatti leader subsequently ordered some of his warriors to lift the prone man back into the nearby capentum. The coach was soon wending its way north again along the straight cobbled Roman road. However, on this occasion, an insensible Palaemon was being cradled in Axenius’ arms, whilst the 20 year-old tried his best to stem his older lover’s loss of blood, and whilst the carpentum was being driven by an infamous Chatti chieftain. A couple of other Chatti warriors, now mounted on recently captured Roman steeds, accompanied the vehicle, with a spare horse for their leader. Meanwhile, their comrades had disappeared into the vast forests with the other booty, leaving the dead bodies of Palaemon’s servants, slaves and escorts for the local wolves to feast upon. (Castra Vetera, Germania Inferior, same time) ‘Quis, quid, ubi, quibus auxiliis, cur, quomodo, quando?’ (‘Who, what, where, with what, why, how, when?’) - common Roman expression Pliny the Elder was again engaged in writing his history of previous Germanic wars, in the hilltop fortress of Castra Vetera, part of whose function was to guard the road from the south to Colonia Agrippina, 60 Roman miles to the north. The Prefect of cavalry was interrupted by the arrival of one of his junior officers. “Sir,” the officer announced, “there’s what looks like a driver-less carpentum on the road from the south at the foot of the hill. Shall I lead some cavalry to investigate?” Pliny, wondering what the sighting could mean, replied “No, as I’ll come too!” Shortly afterwards, the carpentum, with a distraught Axenius and the grievously hurt Palaemon still inside and covered in blood, but with no accompanying Chatti now anywhere in sight, was being driven into the Roman fortress by Pliny himself. The Prefect was acquainted with the renowned teacher, and proposed to oversight the man’s welfare himself, although he gave his older compatriot little chance of recovering from his terrible wound. (Mare Ionium, near the promontory of Ichthys, western Peloponnese coast, same time) ‘….You know as well as we do that when these matters are discussed by practical people, the standard of justice depends on the power to compel and that in fact the strong do what they have the power to do and the weak accept what they have to accept.’ - Thucydides (referring to the 2nd Peloponnesian War) “Hylas is not my bumboy,” a furious Gaius declared to the ugly pirate leader, “and I can assure you that, if you harm even a hair on the boy’s head, you’ll receive no ransom for me!” My bound beloved’s unexpected retort to the Sardinian’s proposal to use the 8 year-old as entertainment for his cock and the penile appendages of his crew caused the man to smile. “And how do you propose to prevent us from collecting our due reward for your safe return?” the pirate leader not unreasonably enquired, given the circumstances. “Because,” Gaius bravely replied, “if you harm Hylas, you’ll have nothing to ransom!” “What do you mean?” wondered the Sardinian, no longer smiling. “I’ll find some way to kill myself,” Gaius announced, “if only by refusing food. For the sake of pleasuring yourself with the boy’s bum, you’ll therefore have lost the opportunity of acquiring a very large ransom!” “You’re bluffing,” the pirate leader suggested, whilst grasping the hilt of his sheathed dagger, as anger built within him at the captive’s bold cheek. “I assure you that I’m not,” Gaius nevertheless responded, with a look of clear determination on his handsome face, “but, even if you truly think that I am, is it worth taking the risk of jeopardising the ransom for a boy’s bum?” The Sardinian’s face became contorted with fury, making both Gaius and Hylas believe that he would unsheath his dagger and kill the young man from Volsinii. However, the worrying expression then suddenly disappeared, as quickly as it had materialised, and a smile returned on the ugly scarred face. “Of course it’s not,” the pirate leader then confirmed, in response to Gaius’ last question, “and your brave impertinence has therefore saved your young slave from the delights of experiencing our cocks inside him. I like you, Roman, standing up and risking your life for the brat like that. If you give me your word of honour that you won’t try to escape, I’ll have you and the boy unbound and you can both join me for supper!” (Imperial palace, Rome, same time) ‘Sed quis custodiet ipsos custodes?’ (‘But who watches the watchmen?’) - Juvenal As occasionally still happened, Doryphoros was sharing a bed with Narcissus, as he still enjoyed the delights of being the sexual passive partner of the middle-aged Imperial secretary, as well as being the more active one in his relationship with 15 year-old Helius. However, to the 22 year-old’s sorrow, he was now to discover that this was the last time that he would experience this particular man’s cock inside him. “I’ve learnt,” Narcissus advised, “that Agrippina intensely dislikes my appointment of you and Helius to oversight Nero’s administrative affairs, as she considers you both to be spies in her political camp, although so far she’s been unable to do anything about the situation. She’s even unusually been unable to persuade Claudius to change matters by offering him use of her body. However, I have good reason to suspect that she does not intend to let the issue rest, which means that your very lives might be endangered. I’ve therefore devised a plan whereby, if you agree, you can still be of service to me and the correct Imperial lineage, whilst at the same time safeguarding yourselves.” Doryphoros knew that Narcissus possessed many sources of information within the palace to keep him well abreast of courtly developments and intrigues. Amongst these were the secret passageways and spyholes, still known to very few people, which had originally been rediscovered by his own original freedman patron, the Imperial librarian, Polybius, who had perished at Messalina’s bloody conspiratorial hands. Doryphoros did not, however, appreciate that one of the few to become aware of these handy facilities was Pallas, the Imperial financial secretary and ally and lover of Agrippina. This freedman had taken steps to ensure that the Empress’ private quarters were immune to spying from such cubby-holes. Consequently, Narcissus was entirely reliant on human informers to keep abreast of the Augusta’s devious dealings. “I’m going to banish you from my bed and sex-life,” the wily Narcissus now informed Doryphoros, “but not because I no longer care for you or fancy your handsome form, because I still do. No, we must alas distance ourselves from each other for your own protection and that of Helius. Instead, and despite technically remaining in the service of my secretariat, I now want you noticeably to act as if you were a shamefully discarded lover, grumbling about your public humiliation and my perfidious treachery. Meanwhile, I’ll take a different young man as my regular paramour to increase the illusion that I’ve spurned you for another.” Doryphoros recognised that Narcissus’ intent to lure another young Imperial servant into his bed would not be difficult, as the man’s attractiveness was much enhanced by his immense power and wealth. In fact, the 22 year-old had to admit to himself that such attributes had actually formed the initial reason why he had succumbed to seduction by the Imperial secretary after Polybius’ sad demise. “I expect,” Narcissus announced, “that such a development will tempt Agrippina to enlist you as a spy, vengefully reporting back to her on my activities. Naturally, as a double-spy, you should be able to render me and our cause even greater service!” Doryphoros immediately recognised that the ‘cause’ to which the wily Imperial secretary was referring was not just their own mutual welfare but also that of Claudius’ house. The latter was represented by the very comely and bright young shape of Britannicus, who was seriously threatened by the Empress’ undoubted aspirations for her own son, Nero. Despite the apparently suddenly reformed character of the 12 year-old boy Doryphoros now officially served, the 22 year-old agreed to participate in Narcissus’ intrigue for three reasons. Firstly, he still preferred Britannicus to Nero. Secondly, the plan seemed to possess the pleasant virtue of eradicating the dangerous threat of having Agrippina as an enemy to Helius and himself. Thirdly, he rather fancied the adventure such devious machinations represented. Narcissus then felt his cock, recently returned to flaccidity, having already enjoyed Doryphoros’ anus once, being fondled back to fulsome erection by the handsome 22 year-old’s skilled hands. “One last session for old time’s sake?” the younger lover then enquired of his older paramour, as a prelude to a final act of sodomy between them.
(Castra Vetera, Germania Inferior, same time) ‘Coniecturalem artem esse medicinam.’ (‘Medicine is the art of guessing.’) - Aulus Cornelius Celsus (‘De Medicina’) The unconscious Palaemon was carefully transferred to the fortress’ wooden hospital hut, where the proficient and well-equipped surgeons were accustomed to trying to heal the wounds of war, at least those accrued on the body as opposed to inside the mind. Axenius refused to leave the renowned teacher’s side to clean himself and rest, despite his bloodstained clothing and obvious weariness. Pliny also decided to remain present whilst the chief medical practitioner exercised his gruesome art. The encyclopaedist acted both out of concern for the patient and his desire to learn, with the science of healing being as interesting a wonder as any for him. Of course, he did not know at the time that such curiosity would one day prove the death of him. Axenius’ tearful eyes blanched, and his sublimely beautiful young form quivered in horror, when he saw within the hospital hut the array of evil-looking instruments at the surgeon’s disposal, arrayed either on tables or hooks on the wooden wall. The 20 year-old could not believe that such tools were designed to cure not kill. Many are known by their Greek names, such as the bone levers, used for manoeuvring fractures, and bone forceps, utilised for removing fragments, which are called ‘mochliskos’ and ‘ostagra’ respectively. The attendant surgeon was, as usual in the Roman army, actually really nothing more than a legionary with medical training. He initially ignored the instruments on display, and instead opened his ‘kauterion’, or ‘ferrum candens’ in Latin, which is a cylindrical portable case used to store a physician’s own personal tools and is utilised both on the battlefield or for making house-calls. The surgeon next extracted his ‘psalis’, or ‘forfex’ in Latin, which are surgical scissors and which he used carefully to cut away the toga around Palaemon’s dreadful wound. Having eventually successfully completed this starting task, whilst Axenius continued to try to stem his older lover’s blood loss, the man picked up some ‘agkistron’, ‘acutus’ or ‘hamus’ in Latin, which are obstetrical hooks, some blunt and others sharp. The blunt are used for dissecting and raising blood vessels, but now, after gently knocking Axenius’ hand away, the surgeon only utilised the sharp variety to raise damaged tissue for subsequent excision with his scissors and to retract and fix the edges of the wound. He then wielded a curette, or ‘cyathiscomele’, as a sound to check the revealed, large, blood-clogged area, which he cleaned as best he could with water before stitching. The surgeon now measured and mixed some medicament from a jar on a nearby shelf using a ‘spathumele’. This latter implement possesses an olivary point at one end and a spatula at the other and is a pharmaceutical rather than a strictly surgical tool. The instrument is actually a rather handy, flexible device, being found in large numbers because painters have adopted it for preparing and mixing their colours. The surgeon used the olivary end for stirring his medicament before utilising the spatula to spread the salve onto Palaemon’s wound. He then concluded his early work by bandaging the badly damaged area, now copiously covered by herbal salve, before declaring “We can do nothing else for now. Without causing potentially lethal further blood loss, I can’t see what internal harm might have been caused, which, alas, might already prove fatal. All we can really therefore do is to wait and pray to the gods for the patient’s recovery.” Axenius needed no such invitation to engage in quiet prayer. He had begun when he had started cradling Palaemon in his arms in the back of the carpentum, as his grandfather audaciously drove the coach to the environs of the Roman fortress, before escaping undetected into the surrounding forests. As Arminius had departed, he had informed his grandson that he would ensure that they met again soon. The 20 year-old was positive that the resourceful 69 year-old would be able to keep his word. As Axenius now remained at Palaemon’s side, holding his still virtually lifeless lover’s hand, Pliny’s curiosity overcame his own distress at the current sad situation. The Prefect of cavalry began to walk round the hospital hut, whilst asking of his subordinate, the surgeon, the identity and use of the various instruments on display, not all of which were designed to cure war wounds. As a result, Pliny was introduced to such diverse tools as a bronze ‘dioptra’, or ‘speculum magnum matricis’ in Latin, which is a vaginal dilator speculum. This fearsome devise comprises a priapiscus with two dovetailing valves that are opened and closed by a handle with a screw mechanism. Its presence indicated that the hut was not just used to treat men, for their camp-following womenfolk also needed to be looked after. There was also a ‘hedrodiastoleus’, which is similar to the ‘dioptra’ but is for rectal complaints. I believe that Hippocrates in his writings [iii.331] describes an instance of the use of the instrument involving “laying the patient on his back and examining the ulcerated part of the bowel by means of the rectal speculum.” Pliny examined various sizes of ‘sikua’, or ‘cucurbitulae’ in Latin, which are wide-brimmed pottery bloodletting cups. ‘Motos molubous’, or ‘plumbea fistula’ in Latin, are bronze and lead tubes used after operations on orifices, such as the nose, vagina and rectum, to prevent contraction or adhesion and also to convey medicaments. A ‘metregchutes’ is a clyster for administering enemas. A ‘kauterion’, or ‘ferrum candens’ in Latin, is a cautery, which I know from personal experience is employed to an incredible extent, with surgeons seemingly expending much ingenuity in devising different forms of and uses for this instrument, such as a counter-irritant, haematic, bloodless knife and means of destroying tumours. Otho, currently in Colonia Agrippina, was well acquainted with the ‘tricholabis’, or ‘vulsella’ in Latin’, which are epilation forceps utilised mainly for hair removal, although they also have a use for artists. However, I doubt that he currently had a need for the ‘staphylagra’, which are uvula forceps. In Aetius’ works [II.iv.2], there is an interesting description of the amputation of the uvula by first crushing it in a forceps so as to prevent haemorrhage and then cutting it off. Hippocrates [I.63] also mentions the uvula crusher, as one of the instruments necessary for the proper outfit of a physician. Pliny’s interesting tour of the hospital hut then came to an end when some low groans indicated to him that Palaemon was regaining consciousness. (Mare Ionium, near the promontory of Ichthys, western Peloponnese coast, next day) ‘If men could elect their own birthright, no-one would be poor, no-one would be of low station; each and every man would find a happy home.” - Seneca the Elder (‘Controversiae’, 1.6) The pirates had let the smaller merchant vessel leave, fully crewed but with its hold now devoid of cargo. Such clemency to captured ships and those manning them was not special, as the sea-thieves were intent on enrichment not murder and destruction, usually perpetrating the latter only if needed to protect themselves. A healthy mercantile fleet was essential for their profession and the latest ship to be seized, and stripped of goods and valuable passengers, was usually allowed to escape for another reason. Ransom demands to the families of the kidnapped had to be delivered. There had only been one passenger aboard the latest victim of piratical enterprise worthy of ransoming, namely the 20 year-old with the brownish-red hair, Gaius Musonius Rufus, who was obviously, from his attire and bearing, of rich equestrian background. However, the handsome young man from Volsinii and his pretty 8 year-old slave were wondrously now aboard the merchant vessel, as it returned to Aigion, and not the pirate ship. The first instalment of Gaius’ ransom had been paid, despite the fact that my beloved generally kept little cash and few valuables on him, not being one for expensive jewellery. His parents had arranged credit for him with local bankers in the key cities of the Empire that he intended to pass through, such as Corinth, with fresh arrangements for later withdrawals elsewhere, catering for changes in itinerary, being organised via the last financier visited. The system meant that he became less of a potential attraction to thieves by only needing to carry enough money for immediate purposes. Gaius had actually not paid out any money whatsoever for his release, and that of Hylas, and not because of the lack of coinage in his possession. My beloved had instead paid the price of acquiring another pretty 8 year-old boy to accompany him on his interesting tour of the Roman Empire. (Castra Vetera, Germania Inferior, same time) ‘Agnosco veteris vestigia flammae.’ (‘I recognise the vestige of that fading flame.’) - Virgil (‘Aeneid’) The now conscious Palaemon knew that he was dying. However, he had appreciated that his demise was close before he and Axenius had set off for Germania Inferior, as his physician in Rome had told him so. Apparently, there was an inoperable tumour eating away at the brain of the renowned teacher, a scenario that he wanted to keep secret from his young lover for as long as possible, not wanting the enchanting young eunuch to be upset. Palaemon had somehow managed to hide the symptoms of his fatal illness from Axenius, until the rattling of his carpentum on the cobbles of the Roman roads in Italia had triggered signs that were not readily disguised, although he had persuaded his young lover that the sickness was not serious. He recognised that otherwise the 20 year-old would have insisted on a return to Rome but the renowned teacher was determined before he died to try to reunite the young eunuch with any remnants of his Germanic family still alive. Axenius kept nothing from Palaemon. Consequently, the latter knew who the young Germanian’s infamous grandfather was and that, despite Roman belief to the contrary, Arminius had still been alive a decade earlier when his then 10 year-old grandson had been captured and sent to enslavement and castration in the Imperial capital. Fortunately for the boy, his captives never bothered to ascertain the youngster’s background, for otherwise he would surely have suffered much greater and undoubtedly fatal mutilation than gelding from a people still grieving and vengeful for three lost legions. In the circumstances, the new young eunuch slave had naturally kept his family identity secret, eventually confessing only to those he most trusted, which I am happy to advise included myself. As far as the Romans were concerned, Arminius was supposed to have been murdered by his own relatives, 9 years after destroying Varus’ legions. He was said to have become so obnoxiously and overbearingly drunk with success and ambition that his family killed him when he was 37 years old. In fact, nothing could have been further from the truth. Arminius’ wondrous successes had been responsible for ensuring that the northern border of the Roman Empire remained the Rhine as opposed to more easterly rivers, such as the Elbe, a situation that exists today in my 76th year of life. He thereby seems to have guaranteed the liberation from Latin dominion of most Germanians, a situation that might perhaps have profound consequences for future history. After annihilating Varus, Arminius had fought a few more campaigns against Roman legions set on vengeance, as well as against rival Germanic tribes in territorial disputes, and he had never lost any by the time of his supposed death. He also never justified the deliberately planted lies suggesting that he was an over-ambitious tyrant. Arminius was actually a noble king, who realised that his people would never be left alone by vengeful legions until he was dead. He therefore faked his demise, with the aid of his family, and went to live in peaceful retirement deep in the forests east of the Rhine. However, a foolish grandson, whose deceased father had been the chieftain’s eldest son, had latterly inherited leadership of the Chatti and had unwisely caused the tribe to rise and attack the Romans once more. The Roman response had been swift and frightful for the Chatti. Even Arminius’ secret remote refuge had been assaulted and destroyed, causing him to return furtively from retirement in order to help his people counterattack and secure plunder to help them live through the imminent winter. The last circumstance that the great leader had expected, when in charge of a small raiding party already closely pursued by the enemy, was to come across his long-lost grandson, Axenius. The latter’s own father and mother, as well as all of the siblings he had known as a 10 year-old, had sadly recently perished at the hands of legionaries in the fresh conflict. Despite his laboured voice, difficulty in speaking being a by-product of his awful wound, Palaemon addressed Axenius with purpose, as he believed that the 20 year-old needed to know that his imminent death was welcome. The renowned teacher explained to the grief-stricken young eunuch that he had already been dying before coming to Germania, and what better manner and time was there for him to leave for Hades than after saving his beautiful young lover from a deadly spear? As they were now alone together, a tearful Axenius then disclosed to Palaemon that the renowned teacher had not only saved his life but also been responsible for his brief reunion with his grandfather, whom he hoped secretly to meet again soon. The dying man thanked the gods in genuine joy for this happy bonus. “I won’t be able to live without you,” Axenius next sobbed, intent to show bravery in front of Palaemon undermined by a distress so acute that he felt that his stomach was being pierced over and over by the spear that had struck his older lover. “You said something like that to me once before,” the renowned teacher then quietly reminded the 20 year-old, “and do you remember how I replied?” Axenius did and, with tears in his eyes, proceeded to repeat Palaemon’s words of over a year earlier verbatim, suggesting correctly by their recall that they had had a profound effect on him. “You said,” the 20 year-old announced, “‘Never even think such things! I’ve already had a much better and longer life than most humans are afforded on this world and I want you to enjoy the same. In fact, I won’t be prepared to meet you in the underworld until you do! Anyway, I’ll also be leaving you with work to do. There are my servants to care for and my educational legacy to look after and develop further. I also want you to find your own path to help improve the world, perhaps in partnership with a worthy young paramour, who’ll love you as much as I have done ever since I saw you outside the temple of Cybele.’” Axenius’ voice choked at this recollection, causing his head to drop and him to sob profusely until he felt his silky fair hair being soothed by Palaemon, who gently instructed “Go on, my love!” Soon afterwards, the 20 year-old calmed sufficiently to proceed with his remembrance. “You said,” Axenius continued, “’I have never told you this but I pray in thanks to the Great Mother Goddess every day for your deliverance to me from her sanctuary, as well as paying for similar to be performed daily in her temple by the Archigallus. I’ve always been sure, since the day we met, that the Magna Mater planned our meeting for a purpose, and I’m now convinced that her intent had several motives. Cybele gave me someone who would love me in such a way that my life was transformed. She also gave me someone who could ably carry on my works after my death. However, probably most importantly, she gave me someone for whom I could provide the means to fulfil a great personal destiny. I insist you do the latter before we meet in Hades, or you’ll have a lot of explaining to do when we rejoin for eternity!’” Axenius now broke down uncontrollably, copious tears flowing whilst he rested his head on Palaemon’s proffered arm. The renowned teacher said nothing more, but instead concentrated again on soothing his young heir’s silky golden hair until his fingers finally stopped moving. Shortly afterwards, Axenius somehow managed to place a gold aureus onto Palaemon’s tongue. The precious coin was to pay the ferryman, Charon, to transport the renowned teacher’s worthy departed soul across the River Styx to Hades. (Mare Ionium, near the promontory of Ichthys, western Peloponnese coast, same time) ‘Probae etsi in segetem sunt deteriorem datae fruges, tamen ipsae suaptae enitent.’ (‘A good seed, planted even in poor soil, will bear rich fruit by its own nature.’) - Accius (‘Atreus’) Gaius thought back to the supper he and Hylas had shared on the previous evening with the pirate leader on the deck of his boat. The man, whose own soul was obviously not as ugly as his unfortunately scarred face, was named after the father, Peleus, of the mythical hero Achilles. His piratical ship had been moored alongside the still captive merchant vessel in a quiet coastal cove. Peleus had been very inquisitive regarding the backgrounds of both Gaius and Hylas. My beloved was, in the improved circumstances, happy to indulge the scarred pirate leader with the information sought. However, that relating to his slaveboy was suitably curtailed to prevent the now 8 year-old from becoming too distressed by recall of the terrible time he had endured, 4 years previously, as a Bacchanalian eunuch catamite. “Your rescue of the boy from such appalling circumstances and your subsequent treatment of him are wonderful and do you immense credit,” Peleus commented kindly to Gaius on hearing Hylas’ history. The young man from Volsinii graciously remarked that his erstwhile tutor in Rome, Palaemon, should really receive the credit, as the renowned teacher had suggested to him that he should fill his vacancy for a servant by recruiting someone whose lot in life could be greatly improved by the appointment. The normally gregarious Peleus was then unusually silent for a while, as he chewed some recently roasted fish and apparently considered unknown issues in his mind. Meanwhile, his pair of guests consumed the decent fare that had been laid out for them and chatted between themselves, until Gaius decided that it was rude to leave his host to ruminate, in both senses of the latter word, for so long. “Why don’t you consider a less dangerous profession,” Gaius asked of Peleus, “as, if you’re ever caught, you’d surely be crucified?” “I would be anyway if I wasn’t a pirate,” the Sardinian replied nonchalantly, “because I’m an escaped slave. It’s therefore no more perilous for me to practise this trade. It’s also both exciting and lucrative, certainly much more so than that for which I was originally being trained by my first master!” “I never used to be as ugly as I am now,” Peleus added, still incongruously jauntily, given the subject matter, “and, in fact, I was considered sufficiently pretty as a boy to be a regular in the bed of my first master. He was a prosperous baker in Carales, capital of Sardinia. However, he died and the business, including me, was inherited by his son, whose only attitude towards me was of contempt and cruelty. He regularly abused me, both physically and sexually, and beat me for nothing, usually after getting drunk. He eventually gave me the scars you see on my face, plus many others hidden by my clothing. As a mere 15 year-old, I therefore ran away, despite the terrible consequences if I was ever caught. I was very tempted to cut the bastard’s throat before I left but, as I’m sure you know, his murder would have meant, under Roman law, that all the remaining slaves in his large enterprise would have been crucified in addition to, or in place of, the perpetrator. I was subsequently lucky, finding a job on board a merchant ship whose captain asked few questions in return for paying less than the normal rate. One thing then led to another over the years and I’ve ended up where you currently find me!” “There’s really no reprieve for me from my present position and its inherent dangers,” Peleus continued, “as I don’t fancy settling with some decent booty and female somewhere quiet where no-one knows me. I’d become too bored, and anyway I’ve my men to look after. However, there’s recently been one good reason why I’ve been occasionally tempted to change my mind.” “Oh,” Gaius enquired, “what’s that?” In response, the pirate unexpectedly stood up and, without saying anything further, disappeared below decks. He returned shortly afterwards, with a scruffy 8 year-old boy, with long scraggy brown hair, in tow. “Meet Achilleus,” Peleus then advised proudly, “who’s my only child!” (Domus of Palaemon, Rome, same time) ‘It’s well known that the most successful young orators are the ones who get laid most often. So we start off with certain natural advantages!’ - Aristophanes (‘The Assembly Women’) Persius had also now gained his toga virilis. Accordingly, neither he nor his friend, Quintilianus, returned to their grammaticus after going back to Rome in the wake of their pleasurable holidays in Hispania. Such establishments were only for boys, such as 11 year-old Lucanus, although they would still share a bedroom and sex life with the latter in Palaemon’s domus for residential pupils. Instead, the pair of immensely bright and handsome 16 year-olds was frequenting the renowned teacher’s own home to start lessons in the wonders of rhetoric, just as my beloved Gaius had begun four years previously. Normally, the lessons in rhetoric would have been conducted by Palaemon himself, but he had gone to Germania Inferior with Axenius for reasons unknown and was not scheduled to return for several months. Instead, the classes would be assumed by the very capable Cornutus and worthy assistants. Of course, no-one in Rome yet knew that Palaemon would not be returning to the Imperial capital at all. (Castra Vetera, Germania Inferior, same time) ‘Ille dolet vere, qui sine teste dolet.’ (‘That man mourns truly, he who mourns without witnesses.’) - Martial Pliny was waiting silently, patiently and sadly outside the hospital hut. He did not wonder what was happening inside, for the inevitable was surely imminent, after Palaemon’s body had begun to show signs of fatal damage to internal organs. He therefore did not react physically to the loud wailing he suddenly heard from within, as he believed that Axenius would best be left alone for a while to endure his grief, which he shared. (Imperial palace, Rome, same time) ‘But if [love] ever does slacken and melt away, Wasting away with the winds of time, Or is extinguished through rational thought, It does not completely escape the soul, But leaves behind it a charred forest and a glowing mark, As do thunderbolts where they smoulder.’ - Pindar (‘On Love’, fragment 137) Persius, Quintilianus and Lucanus were obviously not the only pupils to be unenthusiastically returning to their various educational establishments after delightful summer sojourns. 9 year-old Britannicus and Titus were back in their own class, receiving lessons from Petronius in creative writing, whilst nearby 12 year-old Nero and 13 year-old Suffuscus were learning some more wonders of Greek philosophy from Seneca. Also physically close to Petronius was Apollinus, who was as usual attending Britannicus. However, during earlier recent meetings between the 24 year-old ‘elegantae arbiter’ and the 18 year-old Imperial slave, it had become obvious that their emotional closeness was not the same as it had been prior to their departures to Campania and Umbria respectively. Both guiltily appreciated their own reasons for the creeping estrangement, whilst remaining ignorant of those of the other. Both additionally needed to confess their revised attitudes but neither had so far plucked up the courage to do so. Nevertheless, it was not the changes in their respective love lives, which had emanated from their summer vacations, that were to have a significant influence on the future of Rome. Instead, Petronius’ newly acquired platonic liking and closeness to young Nero was to have this impact. (Mare Ionium, near the promontory of Ichthys, western Peloponnese coast, same time) ‘The master’s knowledge is in how to use slaves, for he is master not in acquiring slaves but in using them.’ - Aristotle (‘Politics’, 1225b31) The deal had soon been agreed, with Peleus foregoing Gaius’ ransom in return for the young man from Volsinii saving another young boy from a possible fate worse than death. The pirate had advised that he feared that his luck might not last forever and that he and his men would eventually be tracked down by the Imperial navy. On capture, they would all then inevitably be crucified, including any family members detained. Peleus did not want such a fate to befall his young son, the only child on his vessel and product of a wife who had died 3 years previously. This sad loss, along with a lack of other family, had originally encouraged the pirate leader to let his young offspring thereafter live on board his ship. However, the Sardinian’s fears for the boy’s ultimate destiny now meant that he was prepared to sacrifice his pleasant company in favour of his safe refuge elsewhere, with someone who had already demonstrated his worthiness in such matters. The agreement meant that Gaius would accept the illiterate Achilleus as a servant alongside Hylas. The pirate’s son, being the offspring of an unfreed slave, was, under Roman law, officially of similar servile status. Gaius guaranteed to care for and educate Achilleus, just as he was doing for the similarly aged Hylas, with a view eventually to freeing him as an adult into a good occupation. Meanwhile, Peleus would compensate his men for the loss of ransom for the young man from Volsinii by dipping into his own saved booty. Gaius entered the agreement not just to ensure his own quick escape from pirate custody and to save his family the price of his ransom, as he was not so petty and selfish. He genuinely also complied for the sake of the boy’s future, fully recognising the immense responsibility involved, having already accepted a similar burden in respect of Hylas and, in certain ways, me. Nevertheless and typically, before being prepared to accept his new young charge, Gaius, who was always keen on clean and tidy personal appearance, insisted that Achilleus was scrubbed, manicured and redressed in some of Hylas’ spare garments, which, like his own, were of the best material and manufacture. This resulted later in a degree of mayhem on the deck of the pirate ship, after the necessary filled tub was produced for the unwilling boy. The latter scampered around the vessel, somehow initially avoiding everyone’s clutches in order to retain his current grubby state. However, his own, highly amused father eventually cornered and caught the 8 year-old, to much accompanying laughter and cheering from his crew. It still took three of the latter to help their leader to strip the youngster and dump him in the waiting bath for the young man from Volsinii and his young slave to attack their, now in both senses of the word, slippery customer with soap and water. After a few subsequent escapes and recaptures of the naked Achilleus, the boy eventually emerged from the lengthy, and exhausting for all concerned, bathing routine totally transformed, at least in appearance. The 8 year-old’s new impeccably groomed and dressed form, crowned by straight brown hair trimmed neatly in the Roman bowl style, was a wonder to observe, and compared starkly with his previous manifestation. Even Peleus was astounded. It was later obvious that Achilleus did not want to leave his widower father or his exciting life as a young pirate. However, in sharp contrast to his athletic attempts to avoid soap and water, and comb and scissors, the boy meekly, albeit melancholically, accompanied Gaius and Hylas to his new life, after a mutually emotionally heart-rendering and tearful farewell from Peleus. Achilleus was somehow mature enough to appreciate the huge sacrifice that his father was making for the boy’s benefit and that it would be churlish to contest or protest the man’s selfless decision. I also believe that the process was assisted by the idea of gaining a similarly aged friend, in the form of the very pleasant Hylas, given that Peleus’ son had recently been deprived of young company, being the only child on board the pirate ship. Nevertheless, I am sure that Peleus’ adventurous, brave, imaginative and occasionally mischievous son subsequently sometimes secretly regretted missing the opportunity to grow up to be a great pirate, although it is actually doubtful that he would have lived that long, given that his father’s worst fears proved justified. The Imperial navy either killed or captured all of Peleus’ men within the year, with those caught subsequently crucified. Achilleus’ father had been one of those apprehended alive, wounds unfortunately ending his brave intent to fight to the death. He was subsequently badly beaten and horribly tortured before being nailed to his cross, as befitted a pirate who was additionally an escaped slave. Achilleus, offspring of Peleus, did not follow his father’s profession but instead lived on to become, as did the son of the father in myth with whom they eponymously shared their names, a great hero in a different field of human endeavour. He was to be aided in this process in his early years by my beloved Gaius and the young man from Volsinii’s devoted Hylas. (Castra Vetera, Germania Inferior, next day) ‘All things come from earth and all things return to earth at the end.’ - Xenophanes (Fragment 27) Axenius watched as the flames leapt towards the grey, overcast heavens from Palaemon’s funeral pyre, whilst trying his best to hold his emotions together before the array of soldiers, drawn up at attention to pay their respects to a well known and regarded Roman. The 20 year-old wished that his life could be over too, so intense was the mental pain he was now suffering. However, he knew that first he had to try to fulfil his late lover’s desires. There were Palaemon’s “servants to care for” and “educational legacy to look after and develop further”. Axenius also had “to fulfil a great personal destiny”, although he wondered what that could possibly be. Nevertheless, the 20 year-old’s current misery was so acute that he required tremendous fortitude to resist the immense temptation to throw himself onto his deceased lover’s burning pyre, on a day that by coincidence was the 11th anniversary of his original capture in Germania by raiding Romans. (Mare Ionium, near the promontory of Ichthys, western Peloponnese coast, same time) ‘The body is earth, but the mind is fire!’ - Epicharmus (Fragment 48) As the flames engulfed Palaemon’s funeral pyre, Gaius was suffering distress similar to Axenius, although he could not pinpoint the cause. ‘Surely’, he thought, ‘the gut pain I feel cannot be seasickness’, from which he had never suffered since journeying in a storm on the Imperial flagship to rescue me from terrible incarceration as a galley slave on another navy vessel. His supposition was supported by the fact that the waves, which he was currently traversing in the released merchant boat back to Aigion, were calm. Gaius also could not believe that the affliction was in any way associated with the sudden advent of the pretty but currently understandably morose Achilleus into his service and life. Although not normally one to believe in premonitions, my beloved therefore began to wonder whether everyone he knew and loved, and had left behind in Italia, was well. It would be a long time before Gaius received the letter from me that conveyed the news from Axenius, which advised the young man from Volsinii of his former tutor’s death in both tragic and heroic circumstances in faraway Germania Inferior. (Near Castra Vetera, Germania Inferior, several days later) ‘Nemo ante mortem beatus.’ (‘Nobody should be called happy before his death.’) - Ovid (‘Metamorphoses’) Axenius waited at the minor crossroads, which formed the scheduled rendezvous for his next reunion with his grandfather. A supposed Germanian ally of the Romans, who was permitted to enter the fortress of Castra Vetera, had supplied the secret information to the bereaved and still deeply anguished 20 year-old. Axenius had never ridden a horse since leaving his homeland just over 11 years previously. However, he had been kindly and expertly reintroduced to the rudimentary skills by Pliny, whose later offer of a protective cavalry escort for the now suddenly very wealthy young man’s supposed pleasure ride, ostensibly undertaken to clear his mind of the recent upset, had been politely declined. As Axenius waited for Arminius to turn up, several days after Palaemon’s funeral, he had managed to restore some outward composure after his grievous loss, although he was still hurting intensely inside. He had also begun to wonder where his ultimate future would lie. He appreciated that he would have to return to Rome to fulfil his obligations to Palaemon’s legacy but also pondered whether afterwards he would be permanently drawn back to Germania. In fact, the imminent meeting with Arminius would seal Axenius’ destiny, as well as that of some people of even greater importance to later history. (Colonia Agrippina, Germania Inferior, several days later) ‘We may with advantage at times forget what we know.’ - Publius Syrus The bored Marcus Salvius Otho received an unexpected but nevertheless most welcome visitor at the rather humble domus his father had temporarily taken in Colonia Agrippina. In fact, the exceedingly handsome 20 year-old guest was someone the incongruously more mature-looking 18 year-old host had once, 4 years earlier, seen naked and in chains in the centre of Rome. The sight had actually then encouraged Otho and some accompanying school-friends to abuse the naked slave verbally, as well as with little stones thrown against the young eunuch’s wonderfully sublime nude body. Remembrance of the occasion now induced mutual embarrassment, which both patrician host and freedman guest tried to overcome by avoiding unnecessary preliminary pleasantries in favour of instead proceeding immediately to discuss the reason for the unexpected visit. (Near Castra Vetera, Germania Inferior, several days previously) ‘When the wine jar is first broached, and when it’s nearly empty, stop drinking only when you’ve had your fill, Be sparing of the middle, but there’s no point going easy on the dregs!’ - Hesiod (‘Works & Days’, 369) Arminius had met his grandson alone and led the 20 year-old to a forest clearing, where he had prepared a little encampment, centred round a warm fire. “Let’s sit before the fire and talk, Axenius,” Arminius suggested, whilst proffering his grandson a goblet of wine. As the 20 year-old accepted the various invitations, he wondered whether the drink had recently been stolen from a certain ambushed carpentum. (Colonia Agrippina, Germania Inferior, several days later) ‘Ubi bene, ibi patria.’ (‘Where one is happy, there is one's homeland.’) - Pacuvius (‘Teucer’) “By the gods, Quintus Remmius Axenius,” Marcus Salvius Otho asked, after Palaemon’s heir had formerly introduced himself, “what brings you to this forsaken part of the Empire?” The unexpected 20 year-old arrival had assumed his dead lover’s two forenames after being legally adopted by the renowned teacher. Otho then wondered whether he might have caused offence. Despite their shared Latin language, attire and manners, he suddenly remembered that Axenius, whom he had never previously spoken to but knew fully about, originated from these parts. However, he was quickly put at his ease when his guest, who was a couple of years older but looked a similar age younger, not unpleasantly announced “Well, compared with Italia, Germania can certainly suffer from nasty weather, especially at this time of year. My homeland definitely also lacks some of the material benefits of Roman civilisation, although, judging from the regular wars and uprisings, many of my people obviously prefer their so-called barbarian existence to the suzerainty of refined foreigners.” “I presume, however,” Otho replied, with equal affability, “that you’ve not come all this way to discuss the virtues of Roman rule.” “You’re correct, of course,” Axenius answered, “as I’ve come instead to take two young slaves away from this household. I’ve just bought them from their owner, who hires this domus to you and who’ll provide suitable replacements.” “By the gods,” an incredulous Otho responded, “you’ve not come all this way from Rome just to buy two young slaves have you?” “It appears that I have,” Axenius replied. (Near Castra Vetera, Germania Inferior, several days previously) Vare, legiones redde! (‘Varus, give me back my legions!’) - Augustus Arminius acquainted his grandson of events, many sad, that had occurred since the boy’s capture and enslavement by the Romans 11 years previously, often in response to the now 20 year-old’s questioning. Naturally, the news of the recent deaths at Roman hands of Axenius’ parents and the siblings he had known caused the young man much further grief, adding to that created by the loss of Palaemon. Equally naturally, the disclosure brought more tears to the young man’s sensuous blue eyes and a resultant pause in conversation until he managed once more to regain some semblance of exterior composure. This recovery was helped by an additionally unexpected but more cheery revelation from his grandfather. Later, Arminius expressed his sorrow at what his captured grandson’s new Roman masters had perpetrated on the boy. Axenius instinctively knew that his grandfather was not merely referring to his conversion into a slave. “How did you know, grandfather?” Axenius asked in wonderment in the Latin they used for their conversation. Arminius was better at conversing in this language than was his grandson in recalling his native tongue. “Your face,” the hirsute Arminius answered, “as, although Romans usually go shaven, your own visage possesses too much of the smooth, beautiful boyish facade I knew when you were only a 10 year-old. However, I should add that such recall did save your life, as it encouraged me to restrain the hand of the warrior who was about to slay you.” Arminius then asked Axenius to tell him of his own experiences over the previous decade. His grandson obliged, and the diplomatically edited tale ultimately caused the infamous chieftain to express sorrow for being responsible for the death of the 20 year-old’s patron. Axenius had not mentioned that Palaemon had been his lover, not out of shame but in case news of such a homosexual relationship might upset his grandfather’s manly sensibilities. However, Arminius was not fooled by his grandson’s lack of openness, having detected the obvious signs, in respect of which he was fully conversant, when the 20 year-old had rushed to his prone and dying patron’s aid at the scene of the ambush. Arminius then startled Axenius by disclosing his own homosexual love affair with a Roman as a youth, one that had ultimately led to the destruction of the XVII, XVIII and XIX legions in the Teutoburger Forest. (Colonia Agrippina, Germania Inferior, several days later) ‘Slaves who have been freed….have no gratitude towards their masters for their freedom, but hate them more than any other men, since they share the knowledge of their enslavement.’ - Demosthenes (‘Against Timocrates’,124) Not uncommonly, another of Demosthenes’ declarations was again to prove unfounded. “Thank you for your assistance,” Axenius politely said to Otho, as he prepared to depart the latter’s hired residence with two, recently purchased, young, blonde, blue-eyed and beautiful 11 year-old slaves in tow. However, the similarly featured pulchritudinous 20 year-old was not to escape the 18 year-old’s clutches so lightly. “Could you do me a favour in return for my help in easing the way to securing your new human possessions?” Otho wondered. “What might that be?” a wary Axenius answered. “Let me accompany you on your return journey to Rome,” Otho replied.
(Near Castra Vetera, Germania Inferior, several days previously) ‘The most common beginning of disaster was a sense of security.’ - Velleius Paterculus Arminius told his grandson of his own early life in the Imperial capital. He had been sent there to complete his education by his family, who had provided the Chatti with their kings for centuries and were then reluctant vassals of Rome, albeit ones keen to have the boy learn from Roman ways. Whilst in the Imperial capital, the amazing likes of which Arminius had never seen before, he acquired, in addition to further education, a similarly aged Roman lover. The 17 year-old concerned shared his teacher of rhetoric and was called Lucius Antonius. Arminius described how, when he had been a handsome 17 in Rome in DCCLI A.V.C. [BC 2], a scandal had ruined Julia, Augustus’ daughter. She was accused in the Senate by her own furious father of immoral conduct and summarily exiled, the Emperor having provided a full account of her alleged misbehaviour, including the names of her many adulterous paramours. Amongst those identified was 41 year-old Iullus Antonius, who was Mark Antony’s son by his first wife, Fulvia. Augustus had not only allowed Iullus Antonius to live after the demise in Aegyptia of his arch-rival, Mark Antony, but also let him enjoy a full political career as an adult, becoming Consul in Rome and Proconsul of Asia in the process, and be wed to his niece, Marcella. A product of this marriage was the very handsome Lucius Antonius, who, because of his father’s alleged indiscretions with the Emperor’s daughter, was, at just 17 years of age, also exiled because of the scandal, in which he had played no part. Before the youth left his home city forever, he was also forced to watch his male parent being executed.
Arminius had subsequently dutifully joined Rome’s legions as an auxiliary officer, where the young man was rewarded with citizenship, the status of an equestrian, the forenames of Gaius Julius and the rank of Prefect for exemplary service. However, he had never forgotten his youthful lover, who had died young in exile, probably after being quietly poisoned on orders from the Imperial capital, with Livia, wife of Augustus, rather than the Emperor himself, being the most likely culprit. She was the mother of Tiberius and was apparently intent on eliminating all potential rivals to the eventual succession of her offspring, the Princeps’ stepson, to the purple. The grandson of Mark Antony had to be considered a potential threat to her ambition. Gaius Julius Arminius thereafter always secretly bore a tremendous grudge against the Romans. He swore vengeance for what they had perpetrated on his own people and homeland, as well as on his beloved Lucius Antonius. Such ambition was despite the fact that Lucius Antonius was Roman. His bereaved lover argued to himself that the Latin race deserved to be exterminated if such a wondrous youth could not survive amongst his own kind. However, Arminius was wily enough to be patient until the time was right to extract terrible revenge, an aspiration which, it has to be suggested, he more than achieved in the Teutoburger Forest 11 years later. After listening to Arminius’ amazing confession in wonderment, the curious Axenius next requested his grandfather’s perspective of what precisely happened to the XVII, XVIII and XIX legions. The 20 year-old had not listened before to the version from the mouth of the actual perpetrator. He had previously been accustomed only to the apparently extravagantly embellished anecdotes of early boyhood in Germania and the rather hysterical descriptions heard in Rome, both of which were bound to be biased, albeit from opposite viewpoints. “It was late September, in the autumn of the year DCCLXII A.V.C. [AD 9],” Arminius began to recall with clear passion, “and the new Roman commander in Germania Inferior, Publius Quinctilius Varus, was withdrawing three of his five legions from their exposed outposts on the River Weser. He intended to take them westward to winter quarters on the Rhine. I think that Varus believed that there was nothing untoward ahead except overcast skies, treacherous marshes and apparently empty and endless, forbidding, dense, dark forests, where a man can walk all day without seeing the sun. To him, the scene, although not suggesting danger, was undoubtedly not a welcome contrast to the teeming, prosperous cities and sun-baked, dusty hills of Syria, where he had previously been governor.” “Varus,” Arminius advised, “had been despatched as Imperial Legate to Germania 3 years before, after Augustus had been forced to transfer Tiberius hurriedly from there to Illyria to crush a revolt. However, the new commander’s time in the northern province had brought him neither riches, unlike in Syria where he had extorted a healthy sum from the native citizenry, nor understanding of the extent of hostility amongst the Germanic tribes. I’m sure that the Emperor shared his ignorance of parochial issues. Neither seemed to comprehend how tenuous was the army’s military hold or how thin was the veneer of supposed Imperial civilisation locally, making the disaster to come for Roman arms all the more painful.” “I believe,” Arminius explained, “that, if Augustus’ knowledge had been otherwise, he wouldn’t have appointed Varus, whose career owed so much to being the husband of the Emperor’s niece and had previously been primarily confined to administration and diplomacy, with little practical military experience. I also think that the ease with which the highly capable Tiberius had swept through the lands between the Rhine and the easterly Weser in earlier years had misled his stepfather into considering the territory to be subjugated. The expansionist Princeps probably considered that the subdued locals only now needed to be Romanised and assimilated into his Empire to make the area a secure base to explore the unknown beyond the River Elbe.” “Both Augustus and Varus,” Arminius declared with a wicked gleam in his eye, “therefore made the foolhardy and dangerous assumption that we Germanians on the east of the Rhine could be treated like civilised human beings!” “By now, I was a trusted senior subordinate of Varus,” Arminius announced, “and I suggested to him that I had learnt from my local sources that some of the tribes in northern Germania were growing restive. Playing the good Romanised Imperial servant, I added that these peoples needed to be taught another lesson. Consequently, the commander led his troops, comprising three legions of infantry, three cavalry divisions and over 1000 foreign auxiliaries, accompanied, behind the rear supply wagons, by a ragtag band of women and children camp-followers, on the necessary northerly circuitous diversion to the Rhine winter quarters. He did this despite receiving information from Segestes, chieftain of the Cherusci, that I was luring him into a trap.” “Fortunately for me,” a now mischievously grinning Arminius informed, “Varus disbelieved this piece of accurate information because Segestes was known to bear me a grudge, as I had stolen and married the chieftain’s daughter, who’s your grandmother. Besides, he must have thought, what barbarians would be daft enough to attack three veteran, battle-hardened Roman legions? Consequently, he took no particular precautions to safeguard his army, as it trudged its way through the almost trackless and seemingly interminable forests. No scouts examined the route ahead and no reserves stood by in case of trouble. In fact, his forces were actually weakened by sending some to local villages, which had requested protection from supposed raids by brigands. After the first day’s march, he also let me and some confederates excuse ourselves from the main column, ostensibly to return temporarily to our own lands to secure additional auxiliary recruits to help suppress the alleged risings in the north.” “By the second rainy day out from the Weser encampments,” Arminius described, “Varus’ long column had reached the north of the hilly and marshy Teutoburger Forest, where the tangle of undergrowth through which the legionaries had to hack their way became almost impenetrable. Wagons also began to bog down in the slimy ground, causing the soldiers to pause regularly to build causeways over the quagmires to allow the carts and pack animals to pass. Then, as the troops struggled through a ravine and up a thickly wooded slope, unseen hands suddenly started to fell mighty trees, barring the path and hemming them in on all sides. The gods were definitely on my side because the leaden skies overhead subsequently opened up and a violent thunderstorm broke onto the Romans, soaking them and turning underfoot into a hazardous mire, with lightening and high winds sending torn branches crashing onto the ground. In the resultant bedlam, urgent shouts of centurions and frantic cries of beasts of burden could be heard, whilst all semblance of order and discipline vanished. Then, to their anguished ears came the bloodcurdling screams of fierce Germanic warriors from behind nearby thickets, whilst a deadly downpour of arrows and short-bladed spears was aimed at their now highly vulnerable bodies.” “From my place of surveillance,” Arminius confessed, “I experienced a momentary pang of sorrow for the victims of this barrage, but only until I remembered my beloved Lucius Antonius, plus the atrocities that the Romans had perpetrated in Germania during the previous two decades. Such recall, as well as observation that the stunned enemy were too disorganised either to mount an effective counterattack or break out of the trap I had set, then spurred my order for my own warriors to creep closer in order to be able to strike more efficiently. Meanwhile, the legionaries attempted to regroup on the nearest open ground. However, only the fall of darkness brought an end to the carnage I had been responsible for inflicting on them. Subsequently, Varus burned his supply wagons overnight. They had suddenly become more of a burden than an asset to him. Meanwhile, the detachments he had despatched to local villages, supposedly to protect the settlements from brigands, had already been massacred elsewhere by my guerrilla forces.” “The next morning,” Arminius recalled animatedly, “the deadly fusillade resumed. Varus would have liked his legions to break out in a southerly direction, towards the fort of Aliso, but none of the traditional battle formations proved effective and I easily managed to block this route. He therefore instead ventured in the opposite direction, where I wanted him to go, deeper into the dense forest and eventually to a narrow defile. Here, the Romans assisted me by perpetrating harm on themselves, as men and horses collided with each other in disarray. With this help, I ensured that this second day produced the heaviest casualties, enabling the end to come on the next.” “On the third day,” Arminius recounted, “the skies were still black with rain whilst the Romans, sodden, buffeted by cruel winds and undoubtedly now desperate for salvation, resumed their hellish retreat. However, by this time, I’d been reinforced by Germanic warriors from other tribes, as they and their chieftains realised that I’d presented them with an unprecedented opportunity to wreak vengeance on the suddenly vulnerable invaders, occupiers and desecrators of our ancestral lands. Consequently, I managed to encircle the enemy, whose main body attempted to make a stand in a shallow ditch behind a makeshift breastwork. However, they encountered problems in finding decent footholds on the waterlogged ground in order to throw their javelins or draw their bows. Their wooden shields were also so soaked with rain and blood that they were virtually useless. My men eventually cut them all down where they stood.” “When one of the last remaining Roman cavalry units failed in a final attempt to hack their way through my lines,” Arminius related somberly, “their army high command seemed simply to give up the struggle. Varus, already badly wounded, took his own life, whilst my warriors went about butchering the pathetic remnants of his legions. I had thereby obtained my revenge for Lucius Antonius and two decades of brutal Roman supremacy in my homeland. I had won the haughty Imperial eagle standards of three legions, whose combined complement of 15,000 soldiers was exterminated to a man by the very enemy they were previously accustomed to slaughtering like cattle. I allowed some of the surviving women and children camp followers to escape to the fort at Aliso, but otherwise all prisoners were killed, often quite nastily as offerings to the various tribal gods. For example, after subjecting the captives to torture and mutilation, many forest trees were used for hangings, to make crude wooden crosses for crucifixions or to accept the heads, nailed to the trunks, of senior officers.” “Varus’ partially burnt body was found amidst the copious fragments of other corpses, severed limbs, dead horses and discarded weaponry,” Arminius remembered, “and I ordered the head severed and sent to Maroboduus, chieftain of the Marcomanni, who had remained aloof from the conflict. The rather grisly trophy was meant as an invite to him to join our uprising, but he just passed it on to the Romans for decent burial in Rome, whilst retaining his passivity.” “You may consider, from your so-called civilised Romanised perspective,” Arminius suggested to Axenius, “that our bloodthirsty actions only highlighted our barbarian status. You may be right but they have to be put into context. Much hatred and grief, for what the Romans had previously perpetrated against us during their brutal campaigns in Germania, was, for many of us, partially salved by the enemy blood so horribly spilt in the Teutoburger Forest. The devastating slaughter and humiliating subjugation inflicted on our proud tribes and race over the previous decades had been appropriately avenged and our independence at least temporarily restored. I had also fulfilled my sacred vow to extract vengeance for what had happened to my beloved Lucius Antonius!” Arminius now revealed a great secret to Axenius, one that disclosed what he regarded as a personal weakness, which he had previously tried to disguise so that he could maintain, for purposes of leadership propaganda, his infamous reputation, and one that he had never before confided to anyone else. “I believe that, by the time of these events,” he told his grandson, “I had actually become even more civilised than the Romans because I truly abhorred the slaughter in the Teutoburger Forest, especially that of the prisoners. However, I kept such aversion to myself and positively encouraged the atrocities. You see, I also considered that our retribution had to be completed in such an horrific manner that the enemy would be discouraged from ever returning.” “Do you now regret the atrocities, grandfather?” a subdued Axenius asked of Arminius. “Given the reason for them, no,” the latter answered, “although a recurring nightmare sometimes makes me wish that they had not been necessary. In this, I recall a handsome young legionary, no more than 18 years of age, who had been captured alive and who in many ways resembled my beloved Lucius Antonius. I somehow morbidly felt compelled to watch as some of my warriors stripped him and suspended him by his wrists, tied to an overhanging branch of a tree. His ankles were similarly resolutely bound, but spreadeagled and attached to uncovered roots. My laughing comrades then took great pleasure in slowly emasculating the young man, bit by bit, starting with his balls, then scrotum and finally penis. As they did so, they forced the various genital components down the soldier’s throat before subsequently leaving him to bleed to death. However, he begged me to finish him off.” “Did you, grandfather?” Axenius next enquired. “Yes,” Arminius replied, “because I thrust my dagger into his heart. However, given that the Romans have since perpetrated similar genital disfigurement on you, perhaps I was too merciful.” “Anyway, Axenius, enough of my history,” Arminius then suggested to his grandson, whilst apparently wanting quickly to move his thoughts away from the sad past towards the hopefully better present and future, “and let’s instead discuss what’s now best for you and the remnants of your own family line!” (Castra Vetera, Germania Inferior, two weeks later) “It’s pretty well inevitable that happiness and virtue should come hand-in-hand….but virtue and great wealth are quite incompatible, at any rate great wealth as generally understood….In view of all this, I’ll never concede….that the rich man can become really happy without being virtuous as well; to be extremely virtuous and exceptionally rich at the same time is absolutely out of the question!’ - Plato (‘Laws’) The presumptions of another Greek philosopher, this time Plato, were to be proven wrong by my friend, Axenius. “Gaius Plinius Secundus, let me introduce Marcus Salvius Otho,” the newly monetarily enriched Axenius announced on his return south to Castra Vetera. Pliny the Elder and Otho then formerly greeted each other. Although both had been present at Caius Silius’ great banquet 4 years previously and the former had been acquainted with the father of the latter, neither had met each other before. Otho had, of course, attended the children’s feast at my late unlamented master’s banquet, where he had been one of the main nuisances pestering Apollinus. The then 14 year-old had also spent a lot of time showing off to a young girl called Poppaea, whom he now hoped to meet again on his return to Rome. Otho had finally managed to persuade his father that his penance for mischievously throwing a Senator into the Tiber should be considered served. Axenius’ own journey back to the Imperial capital had provided the pretext, with the 18 year-old virtually begging the 20 year-old to offer him a lift. The young eunuch obliged. He was eager to have mature company in order to help prevent his mind lingering too long on the recent sad deaths of his lover and patron, Palaemon, caused by his own Germanic tribe, and of much of his family, perpetrated by Roman hands. The mode was transport was again Palaemon’s carpentum, which had been escorted north to Colonia Agrippina by some of Pliny’s cavalry and was still exhibiting signs of being peppered with arrows despite hasty repairs. Fresh accompanying servants, including a new raedarius, had been hired for the return trip to Rome from amongst the local colony of retired soldiers. The men were happy not only to earn the generous money offered but also to have the opportunity to escape the routine of existence on the troubled northern frontiers to enjoy a visit to the Imperial capital. The great city was a place where a few had actually never visited, having originated from other parts of the Empire. Having exchanged formalities with Otho, Pliny turned to the two similar, blonde, blue-eyed children, who had recently enriched Axenius’ life more than any money could and who were freshly redressed in the attire of wealthy young Romans, as opposed to impecunious menial slaves. “And who are this delightful pair?” my encyclopaedic friend then enquired, referring to a boy barely 11 years old and a taller girl, who looked about 12 months older, although she was not only the same age as her brother but also his twin. Meanwhile, Otho was rather subdued, being embarrassed at the fact that he had earlier not only, by similarly mistaking the age of the girl, failed to recognise the pair as twins but also tried to seduce the children, albeit unsuccessfully. The 18 year-old was also grateful that the twosome, who were conversant with verbal Latin, had not enlightened his newly won and now very wealthy 20 year-old friend about his futile seduction attempts. He had been fearful that, if they had done so, he might still be languishing in the autumnal climes of remote and dreary Colonia Agrippina, whilst nursing at least one black eye. Instead, he was thankfully unharmed and retracing his steps back to the much bigger, warmer and more interesting world that is the city of Rome. (Halicarnassus, Caria, Asia Minor, 1½ months later, late autumn, DCCCIII A.V.C., in the 9th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [AD 50]) ‘There is no great genius without a tincture of madness.’ - Seneca the Younger Gaius had just taken Hylas and Achilleus to see the highly impressive tomb of King Mausolus, in the pleasant setting provided by the surrounding large walled precinct, entered from the east via a monumental gateway. The threesome had reached Aigion just in time to catch Athenodorus and Melankomas departing to spend some time in the latter’s home city of Halicarnassus in Caria, before the onset winter made sea travel inadvisable. Having foregone the idea of proceeding in the opposite westerly direction to Olympia for now, the gorgeous young man from Volsinii, with his younger pair of pretty charges, had decided to accompany the happily compliant handsome athletic couple to Asia Minor. Athenodorus and Melankomas were naturally amazed to find Gaius return from his aborted trip to Olympia with another pretty 8 year-old slave. However, they immediately perceived the innocent philanthropic and platonic nature of the relationship, especially after my beloved entrusted them with the secret behind Achilleus’ acquisition. Meanwhile, Achilleus was rapidly overcoming his sorrow at leaving his father, whom, it would sadly turn out, he would never see again, and exciting life as an infant pirate. The boy’s recovery was assisted by being with two very pleasant people, who were constantly fretting about his welfare. In fact, despite Achilleus technically being a slave, with Gaius his master, a scenario signified by a bronze tag worn round the 8 year-old’s slim neck, the boy had begun to consider the young man from Volsinii to be his surrogate father and Hylas his best friend. This attitude and actual true reality would never thereafter alter. Gaius and Hylas perceptively noticed the change in Achilleus’ outlook and demeanour, which even extended to acceptance of daily bathing and grooming, and were glad. My beloved had also begun the boy’s education, just as he had done earlier with the other 8 year-old in his company, as well as me, who was currently sadly separated from him and back in Rome. The young man from Volsinii introduced Peleus’ delightful son to the wax tablet, metal stylus and Latin alphabet. The quintet comprising Gaius, Hylas, Achilleus and two famed athletes experienced a thankfully uneventful voyage back east along the Sinus Corinthiacus to Corinth and short overland journey across the adjacent narrow isthmus, before resuming a sea trip, this time across the Mare Aegaeum. They then enjoyed a pleasant stay in Melakomas’ domus in Halicarnassus, which was large and luxurious, as befitted a former Olympic champion who had been showered with gifts from his fellow citizens, including his home. The resting place of Mausolus was over 400 years old by the time of the visit of Gaius, Hylas and Achilleus, and is a truly monumental structure, eclipsing in size and grandeur all similar contemporary tombs with the exception of the Aegyptian pyramids. Completed by the late King’s sister-wife, Artemesia, after her brother-husband’s death, the structure stands about 50 paces high. According to my encyclopaedic friend, Pliny the Elder, who visited later, the construction covers an area of over 1,200 square paces and comprises approximately 25,000 cubic paces of stone, of which only the volcanic material is available locally. A network of drains and subterranean galleries keeps the edifice dry and therefore well supported. The tomb, faced by white marble and blue limestone, with green volcanic stone forming the core, is almost square in shape, with, according to Pliny, the east and west sides, at 38 paces, slightly longer than the others at 32. The base podium stands 20 paces high and above is a 15-pace high Ionic colonnade running around all four faces. This is itself topped by a 7-pace high 24-stepped pyramid, crowned by a double life-size chariot with rider and four horses. Five of the best sculptors of Mausolus’ era had been employed in decorating the tomb, namely Scopas, Bryaxis, Leochares, Timotheos and Prixiteles. The first four had been commissioned to provide one side of the tomb each with frieze and statue works, whereas the fifth fashioned the crowning chariot. A pair of multi-coloured friezes runs continuously round the four faces, one depicting the mythological battle of the Lapiths and Centaurs and the other that between the Greeks and Amazons. Two sets of similarly colourfully painted freestanding statues are present, one standing on an encircling limestone base and the other on the colonnade exterior above, whilst life-size lions, in yellow ochre, surround the foot of the pyramid roof. It is the innovative presence of this wealth of ornament, along with the originally unique combination of Greek and Aegyptian architectural features, that undoubtedly helps to qualify the tomb as one of the world’s wonders. The tomb itself is a rectangular room, built into the base of the structure. This private chamber is guarded by massive marble doors, which are approachable down a flight of steps. I believe that, inside, the remains of King Mausolus, dressed in finery possessing much golden thread, rest within a marble sarcophagus. Mausolus, who was a powerful, influential and ambitious ruler of his time, undoubtedly sought a kind of immortality by commissioning his tomb, the design of which has now been echoed in many similar but smaller assemblies. My beloved Gaius later told me that he believed that the King has probably achieved his wish. Subsequently, having visited the remarkable wonder of the world that is the local tomb of Mausolus, as well as the other sights Halicarnassus offers, Gaius, Hylas and Achilleus said temporary farewells to Athenodorus and Melankomas. The trio then ventured north into Lydia to visit Ephesus. However, they were to experience in that ancient city an encounter more significant for their futures than visiting the local temple of Artemis. (Ephesus, Lydia, Asia Minor, two weeks later) ‘Moral good is a practical stimulus; it is no sooner seen than it inspires an impulse to practise.’ - Plutarch Gaius had now just taken Hylas and Achilleus to see the huge temple of Artemis, or Diana to the Romans, in Ephesus, which is the largest house of worship in the known world. The truly monumental building is twice as big as the Parthenon in Athens and is served, like Cybele’s sacred places, largely by male priests who have castrated themselves. The temple of Artemis in Ephesus is another wonder of the world, being beautiful, massive and constructed entirely from marble. The building, which attracts many pilgrims and tourists, is, in fact, the second such structure on its seaside site. The first, erected by the enormously wealthy King Croesus of Lydia about 600 years previously, was burnt to the ground two centuries later by a mad pyromaniac, seeking to immortalise his name. Although this man succeeded in destroying the sacred place of worship, he failed in his main objective, because no-one now recalls his appellation. Within a few decades of the destruction of the original, the new temple arose, modelled closely on the first, and was the edifice visited 400 years later by my Gaius and his two young slaves. The only reason why my beloved currently insisted on servile status for the boys, rather than formerly adopting them as his sons, which he eventually proposed to do, was the possible objections that might arise from his own parents. Although he could normally twist them round his little finger to achieve what he wanted, he was still nominally under his father’s pater potestas and therefore saw no reason to risk a paternal veto or disturb his familial relationship over the issue whilst the 8 year-old’s were so young. Nevertheless, in order to protect the young pair in the event of his untimely demise, Gaius had taken the precaution of granting them both their freedom and a small fortune each in his will. His money came from the paternal largesse he had received on receiving his own toga virilis in Volsinii 4 years previously, assisted by subsequent financial rectitude and wise investment. The will also called upon Palaemon or the tutor’s own heir to adopt the boys if they were not yet old enough to receive the toga virilis themselves. Adoption, even for lesser reasons such as social enhancement, is a common Roman practice. A Latin notary in Aigion had recently amended Gaius’ will to include Achilleus. The document had then been returned to Volsinii for the customary unread safeguarding by hometown lawyers. Rome’s Vestal Virgins perform a similar function, but only for the most important of the Empire’s personages. Death and wills were, however, far from the trio’s minds as they toured the vast temple of Artemis, particularly as my letter appraising Gaius of Palaemon’s sad demise in Germania had still not caught up with my beloved in Asia Minor. The scroll was undoubtedly currently progressing from one known place of stay to the next declared forwarding address at a sedate pace. The present bearer, often a merchant seaman or other traveller, would be gambling his payment of the price for the previous transit by hoping to be the final deliverer. The courier who ultimately placed the document in the due recipient’s hands would customarily be rewarded with a generous fee from the addressee. The temple of Artemis at Ephesus measures some 100 paces by 55. The building is surrounded on three sides by double rows of tall columns, each carved with over 40 shallow vertical flutes. The deep front porch has another 36 columns, and these possess bases decorated with unusual colourful reliefs. Above the columns, running all around the temple, is a frieze, and on the corners, as well as on the front and rear apexes, of the roof are lion-headed waterspouts. Three large windows pierce the pediment over the entrance. The central one provides worshippers, located on a narrow internal balcony, with an excellent view of the external altar below, which is self-contained in a splendid colonnaded structure of its own and includes a mammoth statue of the goddess. The unsupported spans inherent in the temple’s construction, often exceeding 7 paces, must alone have stretched the innovative abilities of the builders to their limits. In fact, I have heard that the first architect, Chersiphron, contemplated suicide when confronted by the problem of raising the great entrance lintel using the new invention of cranes. Chersiphron also faced the problem of how to transport the huge blocks of marble required for the temple from the quarry 7 Roman miles away, wagons being incapable of the job. He finally resolved the issue by ingeniously fixing each hewn block with a central pivot, within a wheel-shaped wooden frame, so that they would rotate like massive rollers when hauled by a team of oxen. After visiting the wondrous temple in awe and learning from their competent paid guide the history of the place, Gaius, Hylas and Achilleus returned to the inn, a ‘caupona’, in which they were currently staying in Ephesus. As was customary, my beloved later took his time eating his dinner, or ‘cena’, whilst, as was now usual, the two young boys in his company finished quickly and began to play energetically. Their excited activities did not seem to matter too much as the trio were alone in the residential dining room. However, the expectation that the two youngsters would not disturb other guests was to be proved wrong when one of them accidentally collided with a man entering the facility. The interesting bald-headed man, with meeting eyebrows and a rather prominent nose, was carrying a goblet of dark-coloured fruit juice, which he promptly spilt all over his tunic, badly staining the off-white material. (Halicarnassus, Caria, Asia Minor, 2 weeks later) ‘To God everything is beautiful and good and just, but it is men who have distinguished some things as unjust, and some as just.’ - Heraclitus (Fragment 102) “Where are you proposing to go next?” Athenodorus asked of Gaius, as the latter and his boys dined in Melankomas’ palatial domus. “Rhodus?” the host intervened to suggest. “I originally planned to do so,” Gaius advised, “in order to see the ruins of the Colossus, before moving on to Aegyptia to view two more wonders of the world, namely the Pharos of Alexandria and, of course, the Pyramids. However, I met an outwardly very friendly man in Ephesus, who’s a member of the new Jewish Christian cult and has stimulated me into wanting to visit first, and purely for academic interest, another similar Judaic religious sect called the Naassenes, who are based here in Asia Minor.” “I believe,” Gaius added, “that such a visit was the last thing the man I met, and his young companion, who were passing through Ephesus on their way to Troas, intended me to do in response to our lengthy dinner conversation. However, his criticism of the Naassenes was so vehement that I thought that I’d like to meet them to judge them for myself, not least because I considered his own firm beliefs to be a distortion of facts and his personal views to be sanctimoniously illiberal and potentially dangerous.” “What was the name of the man and his young companion?” Melankomas asked. “Paul and Timothy,” Gaius replied. (Domus of Palaemon, Rome, same time) ‘Urbs aeterna.’ (‘The eternal city.’) - Tibullus (referring to Rome) Having exchanged greetings with Axenius on his return to the eternal city, as well as mutual, heart-felt, deep regrets for the fate of Palaemon, Cornutus turned to the two similar, blonde, blue-eyed children now in the company of his new young employer, both dressed in the attire of rich young Romans. “And who are this delightful pair?” the increasingly renowned tutor then enquired, referring to the 11 year-old boy and girl concerned. “They’re twins,” Axenius rather proudly announced. “This is Anacletus” he then advised, whilst referring to the boy before, with equal happiness in relation to the girl, declaring “and this is Axenia.” “They’re also the younger brother and sister whom I never knew I had,” Quintus Remmius Axenius then revealed. (To be continued in chapter XXXIX – ‘Sects’)
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