The Roman (41 page)

Read The Roman Online

Authors: Mika Waltari

Tags: #Novel

BOOK: The Roman
7.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

307

we who administer our inheritance from Hellas. Let us show ourselves worthy of it.� I could not enthuse over his great plans, for reason told me that this kind of Greek games would only lower the reputation of animal shows and make my own office less worthy. Naturally the crowd would always prefer the pleasures of the amphitheater to songs, music and athletics. I knew the people of Rome well enough for that. But Nero�s high-flown interest in art seemed to be transforming the amphitheater into a rather doubtful kind of pleasure. As I returned to our house at the menagerie, I was not in the best of moods and then, to my despair, Aunt Laelia and Sabina were quarreling fiercely when I arrived. Aunt Laelia had come to fetch the body of Simon the magician, which she wished to bury without cremation in the Jewish way, since Simon had no other friends to perform this last service for him. The Jews and their kind had underground caves outside the city where they kept the bodies of their dead. Aunt Laelia had wasted a great deal of time before she found out about these half-secret burial grounds. I made inquiries and discovered that no one had asked after Simon the magician�s body in time, so it had been given to the animals to eat, as was the usual practice in the menagerie with the bodies of slaves. I did not like this practice, but of course it reduced costs as long as one saw to it that the flesh was healthy. I had forbidden my subordinates to use the bodies of people who had died of diseases for feeding to the animals. In this case, I thought Sabina had been too hasty. Simon the magician had been a respected man in his own circles and had deserved a burial according to his own people�s customs. In fact a chewed skull and a few vertebrae were all the slaves could find after they had chased the angry lions away from their meal. I had the remains put in a hastily acquired urn and handed it to Aunt Laelia, telling her not to have it opened for the sake of her own peace of mind. Sabina openly showed her contempt for our soft heartedness. After that evening, we slept in separate rooms. In spite of the bitterness I felt, I slept markedly better than I had done for a long time, now that I did not have lion cubs climbing all over me. They had now grown knifelike teeth.

308

After Simon the magician�s death, Aunt Laelia soon lost her will to live and what reason she had possessed. She had, of course, long been an elderly woman. But instead of trying to hide this, as she had done hitherto with clothes, wigs and paint, she now gave up the struggle and for the most part remained hidden indoors, muttering to herself and talking about the old days, which she remembered far better than the present. When I realized that she no longer even knew who was Emperor and that she was confusing me with my father, I thought I ought to stay overnight as often as possible in my old house on Aventine. Sabina had no objections, and in fact seemed pleased to be able to supervise the menagerie on her own. Sabina was happy with the animal trainers, although, in spite of their much respected professional skill, they were mostly ignorant people who could talk of nothing else but their animals. Sabina was also good at supervising the unloading of the wild animals from the ships and was better than I was at haggling over the price. First and foremost, she maintained ruthless discipline among the employees in the menagerie. I soon noticed that I had much less to do as long as I arranged for Sabina to have enough money for the menagerie, for the grant from the Imperial treasury did not go far toward maintenance and provisions. That was why I had been given to understand that the post of superintendent was an honorary office which presupposed one used one�s own means. Thanks to my Gallic freedman, money poured in from his soap factory. One of my Egyptian freedmen manufactured expensive salves for women, and Hierex sent me handsome gifts from Corinth. But my freedmen liked to put their profits into new business enterprises. The soap maker expanded his business to all the big cities in the Empire and Hierex was speculating in sites in Corinth. My father remarked mildly that the menagerie was not a very profitable business. To help mitigate the housing shortage, I had several seven- story blocks of dwellings built on a burned-out site which I had acquired cheaply thanks to my father-in-law. I also earned a little by equipping and sending out expeditions to Thessalia, Armenia and Africa, and selling the surplus animals to games in the provincial cities. Naturally we kept the best animals for ourselves.

309

My largest income came from the ships, in which I had the right to buy shares, which sailed to India from the Red Sea, officially to be able to transport rare animals from India. The goods were brought to Rome via Alexandria, and manufactured products from Gaul and wines from Campania were taken to India in exchange. Though an agreement with the Arabian princes, Rome was allowed a base on the southern point of the Red Sea with the right to maintain a garrison there. This was already necessary because the demand for luxury goods rose as the prosperity of the nation increased, and the Parthians would not allow Rome�s caravans through their country without taking an intermediary share in the profits on the goods. Alexandria gained from the new order, but large trading centers such as Antioch and Jerusalem suffered from the falling prices of Indian goods. So the great merchant princes in Syria, via their agents, began to spread the idea in Rome that war with Parthia would sooner or later be inevitable, to open a direct overland trade route to India. When the situation in Armenia had calmed down, Rome had made connections with the Hyrcanians, who controlled the salty Caspian Sea north of Parthia. In this way, a trade route to China was established, circumventing the Parthians and bringing both silk and porcelain to Rome across the Black Sea. It must be said that my grasp of the whole situation was not particularly clear, and this was also true with other noblemen in Rome. It was said that it took two whole years to bring goods on camels from China to the Black Sea coast. Most reasonable people did not believe that any country could possibly be that far away and said that this was an invention of the caravan merchants to justify their extortionate prices. In her more sullen moments, Sabina used to urge me to go to India myself to fetch tigers, or to China for the legendary dragons, or to travel up the Nile to darkest Nubia for rhinos. Bitter as I was, I sometimes felt like setting out on a long journey, but then my reason would return to me and I would realize that there were experienced men more suited to the task and the rigors of the journeys than I. So every year on the anniversary of my mother�s death, I used

310

to free one of the menagerie�s slaves and equip him for a journey. One of my travel-hungry Greek freedmen I sent to Hyrcania to try to get to China. He had the advantage of being able to write, and I had hoped that he would be able to give a useful account of his journey which I could then have made into a book. But I never heard from him again. After my marriage and the death of Britannicus, I had to some extent begun to avoid Nero. When I think about it now, I see that my marriage to Sabina was in some ways an escape from the closed circle around Nero, which perhaps accounts for my sudden and foolish attraction to her. When I again had more time to myself, I began to arrange modest receptions for Roman authors at my house. Annaeus Lucanus, the son of one of Seneca�s cousins, was pleased when I unrestrainedly praised his poetic talents. Petronius, who was a few years older than I, liked the little book I had written about the brigands in Cilicia for its deliberate use of the simple language of the people. Petronius himself was a refined man and had as his ambition, after fulfilling his political duties, to develop life into a fine art. lie was a trying friend to have inasmuch as he liked to sleep in the daytime and stay awake at night, on the grounds that the noise of the traffic in Rome at night prevented him from sleeping. I began to plan and partly wrote a handbook on wild animals, their capture, transportation, care and training. To make it useful to the audience, I recounted many exciting incidents I had myself witnessed or heard described by others, and only exaggerated as much as an author has a right to do to hold his public�s interest. Petronius thought it would be an excellent book of lasting value, and he himself borrowed from it some of the coarser expressions in the language of the amphitheater. I no longer took part in Nero�s nighttime escapades in the less reputable parts of Rome, for my father-in-law was the City Prefect. In this I behaved wisely, for these wild pleasures came to a sad end. Nero never bore a grudge against anyone if he were beaten in a fight, but just took this as a sign that the fight had been an honest one. But an unfortunate senator, defending his wife�s honor, happened to hit him very hard on the head, and was then stupid

311

enough to write an apologetic letter to Nero afterwards when he discovered to his horror whom he had struck. Nero had no alternative then but to marvel that a man who had struck his Emperor could continue to live and also boast of his deed in shameless letters. So the senator had his physician open his veins. Seneca was annoyed at this incident and considered it necessary to find other outlets for Nero�s wildness. So he had Emperor Gaius� circus on the edge of Vatican set up as a private pleasure ground for Nero. There, with reliable friends and noblemen as spectators, he could at last practice the art of driving a team of horses to his heart�s content. Agrippina gave him her gardens, which stretched all the way to Janiculus, with its many brothels. Seneca hoped that the athletics, which Nero practiced in semi-secrecy, would lessen his, for an Emperor, exaggerated pleasure in music and singing. Nero soon became a bold and fearless driver, for he had of course loved horses ever since his childhood. In fact he seldom needed to look around on the race course for fear that others would tip his chariot over, but the art of controlling a Spanish team on the curves of the circus is not given to every man. Many a racing enthusiast has broken his neck on the race course, or been crippled for life by falling from his chariot and failing to loosen the reins from his body in time. In Britain, Flavius Vespasian had had a serious dispute with Octorius and was finally ordered home. Young Titus had begun to distinguish himself in his service and once had courageously taken command of a cavalry division and hastened to the aid of his father who was surrounded by Britons, though Vespasian maintained that he would have managed well enough on his own. Seneca considered these perpetual petty wars in Britain both pointless and dangerous, for in his opinion the loan he had made the British kings created peace in the country more effectively than punitive expeditions which were nothing but a burden on the treasury. Nero permitted Vespasian to take up the office of Consul for a few months, appointed him to a distinguished College and later had him chosen as Proconsul in Africa for the customary term of office. When we met in Rome, Vespasian looked at me appraisingly. �You�ve changed a great deal over the years, Minutus Maniliaus�

312

he said, �and I don�t just mean the scars on your face either. When you were in Britain, I wouldn�t have believed that we should be related by your marrying my niece. But a young man makes more progress in Rome than by getting rheumatism for life in Britain and marrying now and again the Britons� way.� I had almost forgotten my nominal marriage in the Iceni country. The meeting with Vespasian reminded me unpleasantly of my painful experiences there, and I begged him to remain silent on the point. �What legionary hasn�t bastards in the countries of the world?� he said. �But your hare-priestess, Lugunda, has not married again. She is bringing up your son in the Roman way. The noblest Icenis are that civilized already.� The news hurt, for my wife Sabina showed no sign nor even desire to bear me a child, and we had not slept together with that intention for a long time. But I chased away my disturbing thoughts of Lugunda as I had done before, and Vespasian willingly agreed to keep my British marriage secret, for he knew of his niece�s harsh nature. At the banquet which my father-in-law held in Vespasian�s honor, I met Lollia Poppaea for the first time. It was said that her mother had been the most beautiful woman in Rome and had attracted Claudius� attention to such an extent that Messalina had had her removed from the rolls of the living, though I did not believe all the evil things that were still said about Messalina. Poppaea�s father, Lollius, as a youth had belonged to the circle of friends around Sejanus and so was eternally out of favor. Lollia Poppaea was married to a rather insignificant knight called Crispinus and used her grandfather, Poppaeus Sabinus�, name instead of her father�s. Her grandfather had been a Consul and had also celebrated a triumph in his day. So Poppaea was related to Flavius Sabinus, but in such an involved way, as was usual in the Roman nobility, that I never quite fathomed how. Aunt Laelia�s memory was often faulty and she often confused different people. When I greeted Poppaea Sabina, I said I was sorry that my wife Sabina had nothing else but a name in common with her. Poppaea innocently opened wide her dark gray eyes. I noticed later that their color changed according to her mood and the light.

313

�Do you think I�m so old and experienced after one childbirth that I cannot even be compared with my maidenly Artemis cousin Sabina?� she said, deliberately misunderstanding me. �We are the same age, Sabina and I.� My head whirled as I looked into her eyes. �No,� I protested. �I mean you�re the most modest and decent married woman I have seen in Rome, and I can only be amazed at your beauty, now I have seen you for the first time without your veil.� �I have to wear a veil out in the sun because my skin is so delicate,� said Poppaea Sabina with a shy smile. �I envy your Sabina, who can stand as muscular and sunburned as Diana, cracking her whip in the heat of the arena.� �She is not my Sabina, even if we are married according to the longer form,� I said bitterly. �She is the Sabina of the lion tamers and Sabina of the lions, and her language becomes coarser and coarser every year.� �Remember, we are related, she and I,� said Poppaea Sabina warningly. �Nevertheless, I�m not the only person in Rome to wonder why such a sensitive person as you chose Sabina of all people, when you could have had anyone else.� I indicated my surroundings and implied that there were other reasons besides mutual liking for a marriage, and Flavia Sabina�s father was the Prefect of Rome and her uncle had earned a triumph. I do not know how it came about, but roused by Poppaea�s shy presence I began to talk about one thing and another, and it was not long before Poppaea shyly admitted that she was unhappy in her wretched marriage with the conceited Praetorian centurion. �One asks for more in a man than a haughty mien, shining armor and red plumes,� she said. �I was an innocent child when I was given to him in marriage. I am not strong, as you see. My skin is so delicate that I have to bathe it every day with wheaten bread soaked in ass�s milk.� But she was not quite so young and weak as she maintained, and I felt this as she unwittingly pressed one breast against my elbow. Her skin was so marvelously white that I had never seen anything like it before and could find no words to describe it. I mumbled the usual things about gold, ivory and Chinese porcelain

Other books

0451471075 (N) by Jen Lancaster
Bet in the Dark by Higginson, Rachel
Smoke and Fire: Part 4 by Donna Grant
Island of Bones by P.J. Parrish
Loving Dallas by Caisey Quinn
The Compleat Bolo by Keith Laumer
The Stone of Blood by Tony Nalley
September Again (September Stories) by Jones, Hunter S., Poet, An Anonymous English
Bullets of Rain by David J. Schow
A Kestrel Rising by S A Laybourn