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Authors: Steven Saylor

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BOOK: Arms of Nemesis
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Orata blushed amiably. Mummius looked apoplectic. Faustus Fabius, I noticed, had one restraining hand on Mummius's thigh, clutching hard enough to whiten his knuckles, while with his left hand he raised his cup to his Lips to hide his smile.

Gelina was suddenly talkative. 'If you wish to discuss art, we should talk about Iaia's project downstairs, in the anteroom to the women's baths. It's delightful! From the floor to the ceiling on all four walls, octopi and squid and dolphins all cavorting beneath the skylight. It makes me feel so serene and protected, as if I were at the bottom of the sea. Such shades of blue — dark blue and pale azure and blue-green seaweed. I love blue, don't you?' she said tipsily, smiling at Olympias. 'Such a lovely blue colour you're wearing tonight, so lovely with your lovely blonde hair. What talent you both have!'

Iaia pursed her lips. 'Thank you, Gelina, but I think everyone here has already seen the work in progress.'

'No!' Gelina said. 'Gordianus hasn't, nor has his charming boy, Eco. They must be shown everything. Do you understand? We must conceal nothing from them, nothing at all. That's why they're here. To see, to observe. He has a sharp eye, they say. Not the eye of a connoisseur, I mean, but the eye of a hunter. Or a Finder, that's what you call yourself, isn't it? Perhaps tomorrow, Iaia, you can show him your work, and let him contemplate the wonder of your flying fish and terrible squids. Yes, I don't see why not, as long as there are no women in the women's baths, no women bathing, that is. Why not? I'm sure Gordianus appreciates art as much as any of us.'

Olympias cocked one eyebrow and looked at me coolly, then at Eco, who fidgeted under her gaze. Iaia, imperturbable, smiled and nodded. 'Certainly, Gelina, I'll be happy to give Gordianus a look at our work. Perhaps in the morning, when the light is at its best. But as long as we're speaking of art, I know that

Dionysius has a new play in progress, and we've hardly heard a thing about it.'

"That because Crassus always shuts him up,' Metrobius whispered in my ear.

'Actually, I've set aside my comedy for the time being.' Dionysius's thin Lips compressed into a smile. 'The events of the last few months, and especially of the last few days, have turned my thoughts to more serious matters. I am engrossed in a new work, a treatise with a timely subject - an examination of previous slave revolts, with some observations on how best to avoid such disruptions in the future.'

'Previous revolts?' Gelina said. 'You mean such things happened before Spartacus?'

'Oh, yes. The first that we know of was about a hundred and twenty years ago, after the war with Hannibal. Rome's victory resulted in a great capture of Carthaginians, who were held as hostages and prisoners of war. The slaves of these Carthaginians were captured as well, and were sold as booty. It happened that a large number of these hostages and. slaves came to be concentrated in the town of Setia, near Rome. The hostages contrived a plot to free themselves, and in this enterprise they embroiled their former slaves, promising them their freedom if they should rise up against their new Roman masters and help their former masters return to Carthage. Gladiator games were to be held in a few days' time at Setia; the plan was to rise up then and to slaughter the unsuspecting populace. Fortunately, two of the slaves betrayed the conspiracy to the praetor in Rome, who gathered a force of two thousand men and rushed to Setia. The leaders of the conspiracy were arrested, but there was a great flight of slaves from the town. Eventually they were all recaptured or slaughtered, but not before spreading terror through the vicinity. The two slaves who had wisely informed on their fellows were rewarded with twenty-five thousand pieces of bronze and given their freedom.'

'Ah!' Gelina, who had been listening, wide-eyed, nodded approvingly. 'I like a story with a happy ending.'

'The only thing more boring than politics is history,' said Metrobius with a yawn. 'In times of great crisis, such as we live in now, it seems to me that Dionysius would be doing the world a far greater service by producing a decent comedy instead of rehashing the dead past.'

'What on earth did a man like Sulla ever find to talk about with a man like you?' muttered Mummius.

Metrobius looked at him balefully. 'I might ask the same question about you and your—'

'Please, no unpleasantness after the meal,' insisted Gelina. 'It disturbs the digestion. Dionysius, do go on. How did you ever discover such a fascinating tale?'

'I have often given thanks to Minerva and to the shade of Herodotus for the magnificent library so assiduously collected by your late husband,' said Dionysius delicately. 'For a man such as myself, to reside in a house full of knowledge is almost as great an inspiration as to reside in a house full of beauty. Here in this villa, happily, I have never had to choose between the two.'

Gelina smiled, and there was a general murmur of approval at such a pretty compliment.

'But to continue: the aborted uprising at Setia was the first instance I can find of a general revolt or attempted escape by a large, organized body of slaves. There followed a few other, similar occurrences over the years, in Italy and elsewhere, but I can find only scanty documentation of them. And they are of no account compared to the two Sicilian slave wars, the first of which began about sixty years ago - in the year of my birth, in fact. I often heard tales of it when I was growing up.

'It seems that in those days the landowners of Sicily first began to accumulate great wealth and to amass vast numbers of slaves. Their wealth made the Sicilians arrogant; the constant influx of slaves from captured provinces in Africa and the East made them treat their slaves with little regard, for a slave crippled by overwork or malnutrition was easily replaced. Indeed, many landowners would send out slaves to work as shepherds without proper clothing or even food. When those slaves complained of their nakedness and hunger, their masters would tell them to steal clothes and food from travellers on the road! For all its wealth, Sicily degenerated into a lawless and desperate place.

'There was one landowner, Antigenes by name, who was known to everyone for his excessive cruelty. He was the first man on the island to brand his slaves for identification, and the practice soon spread all over Sicily. Slaves who came to him begging for food or clothing were beaten, chained, and put on humiliating display before being sent back to their tasks, as naked and hungry as before.

'This Antigenes did have a favourite slave whom he delighted in both coddling and humiliating, a Syrian called Eunus, who fancied himself a wizard and wonder-worker. This Eunus would tell of dreams in which the gods had spoken to him. People always like to hear such stories, even from a slave. Soon Eunus began to see the gods, or pretend that he did, in broad daylight, and to converse with them in strange tongues while others looked on in wonder. He could also spit fire from his mouth.'

'Fire?' Gelina was aghast.

'An old theatrical trick,' Metrobius explained. 'You bore holes into either end of a walnut or something similar, stuff it with fuel, light it and pop it into your mouth, then blow flames and sparks. Any conjurer in the Subura can do it.'

'Ah, but it was Eunus who first brought the trick from Syria,' said Dionysius. 'His master Antigenes would display him at dinner parties, where Eunus would fall into his trance, spit fire, and afterwards reveal the future. The more outlandish the tale, the better it was received. For instance, he told Antigenes and his guests that a Syrian goddess had appeared to him promising that he, a slave, would become king of all Sicily, but that they should not fear him, for he would have a very tolerant policy toward the slave owners. Antigenes' guests found this highly amusing and rewarded Eunus with delicacies from the table, telling him to remember their kindness when he became king. Little did they realize the dark course of the future.

'It came about that the slaves of Antigenes decided to revolt against their master, but first they consulted Eunus, asking him if the gods would favour their enterprise. Eunus told them that their revolt would be successful, but only if they struck brutally and without hesitation. The slaves, about four hundred of them, held a ceremony in an open field that night, exchanging oaths and perforrning rites and sacrifices as Eunus instructed. They worked themselves into a murderous frenzy and then broke into the city, killing free men, raping women, even slaughtering babies. Antigenes was captured, stripped, beaten, and beheaded. The slaves dressed Eunus in rich garments and a crown of gold leaf and proclaimed him their king.

'News of their rebellion spread like wildfire across the island, inciting other slaves to revolt. Rival groups of rebel slaves rose up, and it was hoped they would turn against one another. Instead, they banded together, taking into their army all sorts of bandits and outlaws. Word of their success spread beyond Sicily and encouraged widespread unrest — a hundred and fifty slaves conspired to revolt in Rome, more than a thousand rose up in Athens, and there were similar disturbances all over Italy and Greece. All these were quickly suppressed, but the situation in Sicily deteriorated into utter chaos.

'Sicily was overwhelmed by rebelling slaves, all proclaiming Eunus their king. The common folk, in an access of hatred against the rich, actually sided with the slaves. For all its madness, the revolt was conducted with a certain intelligence, for while many a landowner was tortured and killed, the slaves took thought for the future and avoided destroying harvests and property that would be useful to them.'

'How did it end?' asked Gelina.

'Armies were sent from Rome. There was a series of battles all over Sicily, and for a time it seemed that the slaves were invincible, until at last the Roman governor, Publius Rupilius, managed to trap them in the city of Tauromenium. The siege continued until the insurgents were reduced to conditions of unspeakable hunger, and finally cannibalism. They began by eating their children, then their women, and at last each other.'

'Oh! And the wizard?' Gelina whispered.

'He escaped from Tauromenium and hid himself in a cave, until at last Rupilius flushed him out. Just as the slaves had consumed one another, so the king of the slaves was discovered half-eaten by worms — yes, just such worms as were said to have plagued the great Sulla in his last years here on the Cup, before his death from apoplexy, which demonstrates that these devouring worms, like the lower grade of humans, will take sustenance from any leader, high or low. Eunus was dragged from his cave, screaming and clawing at his own flesh, and put in a dungeon at Morgantina. The wizard continued to see visions, which became more and more horrible; at the end he was raving. At last the worms consumed him, and so the first of the great slave revolts came to its miserable end.'

There was a deep silence. The faces of Gelina's guests were impassive, except for Eco, who sat wide-eyed, and young Olympias, who seemed to have a tear in her eye. Mummius fidgeted on his couch. The silence was broken by the soft shuffling footsteps of a slave retreating towards the kitchens with an empty platter. I looked about the room at the faces of the table slaves, who stood rigidly at their posts behind the guests. None of them would meet my eyes, nor would they look at one another; instead they stared at the floor.

'You see,' said Metrobius, his voice sounding unnaturally loud after the stillness, 'you have all the elements for a divine comedy right at your fingertips, Dionysius! Call it "Eunus of Sicily" and let me direct it for you!'

'Metrobius, really!' protested Gelina.

'I'm serious. All you need to do is cast it with the standard roles. Let me see: a bumbling Sicilian landowner and his son, who of course will be love-struck by a neighbour's daughter; add to that the son's tutor, a good slave who will be tempted to join in this slave revolt but will choose virtue instead and save his young master from the mob. We can bring this Eunus onto the stage for a few grotesque comedy turns, spitting fire and babbling nonsense. Introduce the general Rupilius as a bombastic braggart; he mistakes the good slave, the tutor, for Eunus, and wants to crucify him; at the last instant the young master saves his tutor from death and thus repays him for saving his own life. The revolt is suppressed offstage, and all ends with a happy song! Really, Plautus himself never came up with a better plot.'

'I believe you're half-serious,' said Iaia shrewdly.

'It all sounds a bit distasteful,' complained Orata, 'considering current circumstances.'

'Oh, dear, you might be right,' admitted Metrobius. 'Perhaps I've been away from the stage too long. Go on, then, Dionysius.

I only hope your next account of past atrocities will be as amusing as that last one.'

The philosopher cleared his throat. 'I fear you will be disappointed, Metrobius. Since Eunus there have been a number of slave revolts in Sicily; something about the island seems to encourage depravity among the rich and insurrection among the slaves. The last and greatest of these revolts was centred in Syracuse, in the days when Marius was consul, thirty-five years ago. Its scale was as great as the first uprising under Eunus, but I fear that the story is not nearly as colourful.'

'No fire-breathing wizards?' said Metrobius.

'No,' said Dionysius. 'Only thousands of dangerous slaves rampaging across the countryside, raping and pillaging, crowning false kings and defying the power of Rome, and in the end a general comes to crucify the ringleaders and put the rest in chains, and law and order are restored.'

'So it shall always be,' said Faustus Fabius darkly, 'as long as slaves are foolish enough to upset the natural order.' At either side of him, Orata and Mummius nodded sagely in agreement.

'Enough of this gloominess,' said Gelina abruptly. 'Let's move to another subject. I think it's time we had an amusement. Metrobius, a recitation?' The actor shook his white head. Gelina did not press him. 'Then perhaps a song. Yes, a song is what we need to lift everyone's spirits. Meto . . . Meto! Meto, fetch that boy who sings so divinely, you know the one. Yes, the handsome Greek with the sweet smile and the black curls.'

BOOK: Arms of Nemesis
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