Glaucus' Story
Chapter 21 - The Garden (A.D. 180)
Maximus averted his head and grimaced as the blacksmith swung his anvil down towards his wrist. CLUNK! The iron still held.
"Once more," said the blacksmith and Julia covered her eyes again. CLUNK.
The link was broken. The other one soon followed. Maximus nodded his thanks as he stood and removed the heavy iron slave cuffs. He hated them. They were always such a cold, heavy, tangible reminder of his loss of freedom, and he dropped them on the ground then kicked them out of his way.
Julia helped him unwrap the leather wrist strips then gently massaged the marks that they had left in his skin. She too, was anxious to erase any physical signs of his slavery. "A bath is waiting for you, and clean clothes," she smiled, "then we can eat breakfast."
As they walked back towards the house Maximus said, "We seem to have our hours mixed up. It looks to me like we're approaching dusk, not breakfast time."
"Well you insisted on drinking yourself into a stupor and you slept the entire day away," Julia teased. She had enjoyed every minute of the hours she had spent with her head resting quietly on his chest.
Maximus looked down the length of the house as they walked along the colonnade of the reflecting pool with its dancing fountains, their rippled images following them. Maximus stopped and stared into the water at the muscular man in the blue tunic and black leather armor and the slender woman in white silk. They were quite a contrast. He hadn't seen his own image since Germania and he was amazed that he still looked like General Maximus.
Maybe Julia was right, maybe he hadn't changed that much after all.
Julia linked her arm through his and gazed at his image as well. "You look very handsome," she mused. "Armor becomes you. It's quite obvious that the people who attend the games think so too. Your name is scratched in the walls of the amphitheater along with suggestions about what they would like to do with you, and tin dolls in your image are sold outside the building -- quite virile dolls. During the games vendors even sell trays with your image painted on them and they ran out of stock very early the day I was there."
"I'm good for business," muttered Maximus, his mood darkening.
Julia pulled on his arm and steered him in the direction of the gardens hoping to keep the atmosphere as light as possible under the circumstances.
"Do you like the gardens, Maximus?"
"The whole place is an amazing. I've never seen anything like it."
Julia was pleased with his compliment. "My husband let me design it -- with the aid of architects, of course. I would have liked something less ostentatious but he insisted on its size and lavishness. He entertained clients here and wanted to impress them."
"His shipping business must have been prosperous."
"Yes, and now it is mine."
"You operate it?"
"Yes," Julia cast a side-long look at Maximus. "Are you surprised?"
"No," he said honestly. Nothing about this woman surprised him. "What do you do with your time -- other than try to rescue ungrateful slaves -- now that you are alone in this huge place?"
Julia smiled at the reference to their argument last night but then she became serious. "I read a great deal. I never had an education, Maximus, but Apollinarius has tutored me and I find myself hungry for more. And, I play with my cats and walk the gardens, although it's much nicer strolling them with you. I also have a very nice apartment in Rome."
"You should marry again. Have children."
"Oh Maximus, you are always trying to take care of people." Julia guided Maximus to a shaded marble bench and sat down then pulled him down beside her. "I'd rather be on my own than in another loveless marriage."
"You might find someone to love if you don't hide in this place. Go to Rome--"
"Maximus, I meant what I said last night about not giving myself to a man that I don't love. I've had enough of that. Any relationship that I undertake will be based on love... or I'll remain on my own."
Maximus rested his forearms on his knees and stared at the rose that brushed softly against his skin in the gentle breeze.
Julia shifted slightly then said hesitantly. "Last night... I didn't mean to blurt out my feelings for you like that. I'm quite embarrassed that I did.
But... maybe it's for the better that you know how I feel. I never thought that I would walk these pathways with you even though I've dreamed that I would. It's amazing for me, having you here... even if just for a short time."
Maximus seemed very interested in that particular blood-red rose. He reached out and Julia watched his large, callused fingers gently stroke its velvet petals.
"Love is the most important thing that there is," she whispered.
He didn't look at her. "There's no future for us, Julia."
She winced slightly at his dispassionate tone. "I know that. You made it clear what your future will be."
"Even if I was free, we couldn't marry. A man of my class can't legally marry a freedwoman."
Julia laughed. "Maximus, you are of no class now. If you are set free you'll be a freedman, just like me."
"Maybe."
"Why 'maybe'?"
Maximus placed the heel of his hand on the back of the bench seat behind Julia then shifted his weight to it, allowing his body lean in her direction. His arm brushed her back and to Julia it felt like an embrace.
Her loose hair, lifted by the warm breeze, caressed his arm. His voice dropped to it's most quiet tone and deepest level. "I know you think I live only for revenge for the deaths of my family, but there's much more to it than that."
His face was very close to hers.
He continued. "You know that Commodus has a sister."
"Lucilla... yes."
"Well, she has a son named Lucius. He and my son are... were... the same age. Lucius is heir to the throne after Commodus." Maximus smiled slightly.
"He's very young... so innocent... and he lives under the nose of his uncle.
I already know how ruthless Commodus is and that he would not spare even a child. If Commodus feels threatened in any way I'm afraid he'll harm Lucius."
"Why would you suppose that?"
"His mother told me."
Julia was startled. "You've talked to the Lady Lucilla? Since coming to Rome?"
"Yes. She visited me at the gladiator school one night."
Julia felt a wave of jealousy sweep over her, so powerful that it almost made her reel. "Why would she do that?"
"Lucilla and I have known each other for a very long time. She was in Germania with her brother when the emperor... died. She knew that her brother had ordered me executed and was shocked when I turned up in the Colosseum in Rome as a gladiator. She came to see me to tell me her concerns."
"Why? What could you possibly do to help her?"
"She knows that I plan to kill Commodus. I didn't exactly keep that a secret. She just gave me another reason to do so... to protect her son... the grandson of my emperor, Marcus Aurelius."
"She plots against her own brother?"
"Sshhh. Julia." Maximus quickly glanced around the garden to assure himself that they were alone. "I know I can trust you because I put my life in your hands in Moesia and you didn't fail me. This information mustn't go any further than here."
"Of course not," she replied earnestly, thrilled that he would confide in her so easily.
"I just want you to understand that I refused your offer of freedom for more reasons than my need to avenge my wife and son. It's complicated, as I said."
After a long moment Julia summoned the courage to ask, "You care for Lucilla?"
"Yes... I care for her."
Julia swallowed hard. "You love her?"
"No, I don't love her. At least... not in that way."
"You said that you've known her a long time. Did you love her once?"
Maximus smiled at her line of questioning and brushed away a lock of hair that had tangled around her throat. "A very, very long time ago. Since then we have led quite different lives... and we both married and had a child."
Julia looked at her hands. "Sometimes old love can be rekindled."
Maximus shook his head.
Julia twisted to face him, her earnest eyes looking right into his.
"Maximus, aren't you afraid to die?"
He sighed. "I've lived with death most of my life. I faced my own death, and the deaths of my soldiers, every time I went into battle. I face death every day now in the arena. No, I'm not afraid of dying. Besides, my wife and son are there already waiting for me to join them."
Julia press against him but any intimacy was blocked by the leather armor.
"I can't believe that your wife would want you to die, Maximus. She loved you. She would want you to live a long, happy life not to rush to join her for any reason."
"Julia--"
She clasped his bearded chin. "No... listen to me. A woman who loves a man would give up anything for him... sacrifice anything for his happiness.
Olivia isn't watching you and resenting every bit of happiness that you can snatch in your remaining days. She would have wanted you to accept my offer of freedom... to live a long and happy life without her. To find love again.
She'll always be there for you... ten, twenty years from now." Julia sniffed, and blinked back the tears that threatened to flow.
"It's not about what my wife would want. It's about what I want."
The tears spilled and Julia swiped at them angrily. "Well, you're being selfish. You're not thinking of the people here who love you and want you to live. You're only thinking of yourself."
Maximus gently wiped her tears with his thumb. "Julia, if I could think of a way to accomplish what I must accomplish and then live... I might take it. I know that Olivia and Marcus will wait for me no matter how long I live."
"But I offered you a way and you wouldn't accept."
"There are good reasons for that."
"I know, I know... Juba. Don't you think that Juba would gladly sacrifice his life for your freedom?"
"Maybe. That's not my choice to make. But I won't sacrifice your life for my freedom."
Startled, Julia sat up. "What? Whatever are you talking about?"
Maximus looked at the treetops. "That city near here is Ostia, isn't it?
There is an army base in Ostia."
Julia's eyes widened and she sat up. "Yes. Yes." A look of hope came into her eyes. "You could--"
Maximus hushed her with a finger to her lips. "I could approach that legion and find it under the control of a general who answers to Commodus, which is most likely the case. If he happened to recognize me he'd strike me down instantly. If he didn't recognize me then he'd hold me until I could be identified. Either way I'd be dead and Commodus would still be alive."
"But, what if it's men you know and they are sympathetic to your cause?"
"That's unlikely because my armies are in the north. But, even if it was one of the Felix legions I still couldn't leave here, Julia."
"But, you could go to see them and then come back here. I'll go with you.
You could make plans--"
"No."
Julia shut her eyes and shook her head in frustration. "Maximus, why not?
You're not making sense. You're an army commander and there may be an army nearby."
"Not any more I'm not. But Julia my point is that you have no idea what a vengeful man Commodus is. You don't know what he is capable of doing."
Julia was silent for a long while then she said, "To whom?"
"To anyone who crosses him... to anyone who helps me."
"You mean me."
"Yes."
Julia grabbed Maximus' upper arms and shook him slightly in frustration.
"Maximus, don't you understand? I am willing to take that risk."
"I'm not."
"Maximus...," she implored.
"Julia, how often have you been to the amphitheater to see the games?"
"Maximus, don't change the subject."
"Just answer me."
"Only once. To see you."
"Did you stay all day?"
"No, I stayed outside and just went in when I heard the crowd chant your name."
"Then you have no idea what atrocities go on there."
"I... I have some idea."
Maximus shook his head. "The only time gladiators like me fight is in the late afternoon. Particularly skilled gladiators fight one-on-one. But earlier in the day the arena is filled with gladiator pairs -- dozens of men at the same time -- who are pitted against each other and against wild animals that are specially trained to kill men. Most animals won¹t kill humans, you know, no matter how hungry they are. They have to be trained to kill people. The carnage is terrible."
"It's something I never want to see." Julia wondered what this had to do with her helping him escape.
"That's not the worst of it -- not even remotely." Maximus spoke to the darkening sky. "In the mornings the shows are particularly horrific. That's when condemned men are tied up and fed to animals without being able to defend themselves. Women and children too, from religious cults or prisoners of war. They're ripped apart while they're alive." He cleared his throat.
"But, I've seen worse. Last week we were taken to the arena early for some reason and left in cells most of the day. The most valuable gladiators are given the best cells -- just a bit below ground -- so we can see into the arena and hear everything that happens." He took a deep breath. "The games are paid for by officials hoping to get re-elected and they know that whoever puts on the best show has the best chance. By 'best show' I mean the bloodiest and most depraved. Much of it crosses the line from brutality into perverted sexual exhibition." He stopped talking and stared at the stars just beginning to emerge.
Julia gave him time to collect his thoughts before she urged him, "Go on," knowing that he needed to talk about it. "It's pretty hard to shock me, you know."
He rubbed his hands over his face before he continued. "Do you know that the people in the seats picnic while they watch things like that? They eat food while human beings just like them are being destroyed before their eyes.
They're completely insensitive to the most barbaric acts." His head dropped between his shoulders, his voice now almost inaudible. "They wheeled a woman into the arena. A beautiful woman. She was naked and staked out face down over an elaborate gold cart made to look like an altar. It was like she was a human offering to the gods. After they wheeled her around the arena so everyone could get a good look, they covered her with animal skins. Then a man entered the arena with an animal that he had obviously specially trained... and the animal raped the woman."
Julia gasped, her nails digging pits in his arm.
"I won't tell you what kind of animal it was but I wouldn't have believed it possible. Her screams were terrible. Needless to say, the woman was severely injured and bleeding badly. Wild animals were then released to finish her off. The crowd loved it."
A sob escaped Julia and Maximus pulled her to him, wrapping her in his strong arms. Her tears spilled onto the black leather. "There's more," he whispered.
"I don't want to hear it," she cried, her words muffled by his shoulder.
"You have to hear it." He waited until her sobbing subsided. "A bunch of chariots roared in, each one dragging a naked woman. When they were torn up and disemboweled but still alive, animals were released to finish them off.
And that's not the worst I saw. The worst involved a dozen or so sweet, blonde girls -- all of them looked to be under the age of ten -- probably Germans. For all I know, I may even have been responsible for them being there. Spoils of war." Maximus shuddered and whispered, "I can't even tell you what happened to them."
Maximus gently rubbed Julia's back as she lay against him, drained and limp.
"Do you understand now," he asked in an unsteady voice, "why I won't risk implicating you in any plot to free me? You could end up in that arena as entertainment for the crowd. I could never live with that."
She nodded against his shoulder and sniffled. They stayed that way for a long, long time. Both comforting the other. Both drawing comfort from the other.
Finally Julia sat up and cupped his face in her hands. "I'm sorry I called you selfish."
He smiled and kissed her fingers. "That's alright."
"Last night you said that you were responsible for your family's deaths and that you deserved to die. Maximus... what happened to them?"
She felt him withdraw. "I'd rather not talk about that tonight."
Her hands dropped to his shoulders and she studied his drawn face. "I understand," she said as she wracked her brain for some way to lighten the dark mood that had descended upon them. Maximus' stomach growled as if on cue. "Oh my, I forgot that you haven't eaten in so long. You must be starving."
Maximus rubbed his stomach. "I am, actually."
Julia stood up and tugged on his hand. "Come, the meal will be waiting for us in my apartment. It's probably cold by now."
Maximus allowed himself to be pulled down the path. "It's probably not there at all. Your cats probably got it again. Best fed cats I've ever seen."
Julia laughed. "No, I had the servants cover it this time." her arm slipped around his waist and Maximus draped his hand over her shoulder.
Attracted by Julia's laugh, Apollinarius glanced down from the terrace off his room and saw the couple emerge from the garden and approach the atrium doors... and he smiled.
Chapter 22 - Rome
The road seemed to symbolize the power and might of the Roman Empire -- straight and strong as it sliced through hills and rock and stepped across wide rivers on its determined journey to the empire's capital city. Glaucus urged Ultor to a canter and was pleased when other travelers dodged out of the mighty stallion's way, yielding to him the way the countryside had yielded to Via Flaminia, the main route from the northern empire to Rome.
His back was a straight as the road, his will as strong as the stone under his horse's hooves.
Glaucus had lost interest days ago in the praetorian who were trailing him and was now totally focussed on his task. His stomach tightened with excitement as he approached the graceful stone arches of the Milvian Bridge that spanned the Tiber River just north of the city. He drew Ultor to a halt on the bridge and gazed down for a moment at the late afternoon sunshine dancing on the water's rippled surface then he raised his eyes and watched the river curve lazily behind a distant hill where elegant white villas sprouted among the olive and lemon trees on its slopes, their terraces providing breathtaking views of the walled city. These were luxury country homes where Rome's wealthy could escape the bustle and heat of the city.
He was almost there. Rome was very close now.
But Glaucus' journey slowed to a crawl just south of the bridge. Traffic from many parts of the northern and eastern empire had converged and Via Flaminia now struggled to carry it all. Cumbersome carts, heavy wagons and light chariots vied for space with impatient riders and wary pedestrians, all of whom had business in the empire's huge capital city. Chickens and geese squawked and flapped, their feathers floating on the windless air, and pigs snorted and squealed from their cramped quarters within caged wagons.
Farmers drove cows along the road to the meat markets within the city walls ensuring fresh meat for the citizens but leaving a smelly mess on the roads, compounded by the horses and oxen pulling vehicles. Freight of every description was bound for the great markets of Rome including human cargo destined for the slave markets and arenas. Men, women and children with hollow eyes stared hopelessly at him from behind bars, and he averted his eyes, unable to meet their desolate gaze.
An overturned wagon halted traffic for almost an hour until the vehicle was uprighted and its cargo of smashed red tiles shoveled away by slaves, allowing annoyed travelers to finally pass as dusk rapidly approached. The road was now lined on both sides by marble monuments and mausoleums of all sizes forming long unbroken walls, with the road and its occupants trapped in the middle. At first the decorative monuments unnerved Glaucus, then they intrigued him as his slow journey permitted him time to examine many of the inscriptions. Men, women and children were immortalized here -- people who had lived and died in the great city but, by law, were interred outside its thick walls. His heart started to race. Would he find his father's name among the dead? Would he find a monument to a deceased Roman general who had died under mysterious circumstances far away from his family?
Slowly, Glaucus zig-zagged across the road atop the black stallion trying to read every name, causing tired travelers to scramble out of the way and curse and shake their fists in his direction. Was Maximus here? How many thousands of mausoleums were there? This was just one main road into Rome -- all of them would be the same. Shaken, he drew some long, steadying breaths and forced himself to calm down. He must assume that Maximus was among the living not the dead. He had to get into the city.
Finally, Rome emerged from the evening haze like some magnificent mirage.
Even at a distance its grandeur was unimaginable. Tall columned buildings with slanted red tile roofs and majestic domes soared high above the city walls, layered as far as the eye could see. It was dusk, though, by the time Porta Flaminia was within reach -- the great stone gate that guarded the northern entrance into Rome. Traffic finally thinned as pedestrians headed for the inns that hugged the city's outer walls electing to wait until morning, but Glaucus remained with the vehicles that where they were permitted inside the walls only at night. He wanted his horse bedded in a secure stable close to him. He had no idea if any rooms were available at this hour but he couldn't wait another night to enter the city that potentially held the answer to his questions. Glaucus finally passed through the gate and into the city of Rome just as the sun dropped behind a western hill.
Via Flaminia continued it's straight course and Glaucus followed it, eyeing the shadowy, crooked side alleys that lurched away in both directions. He held Ultor in tight check but the animal was unused to the crowds that he had encountered in the past few hours and was growing quite testy. When an impatient wagon driver skimmed his flanks, the horse reared and pawed the air angrily. Glaucus wrestled him under then control then dismounted, holding the stallion's head down and murmuring to him as he hugged the edges of the road. That worked until a drunk lurched out of the darkness and stumbled in front of the agitated animal and Glaucus knew it was time to settle in for the night. After a few more minutes he found an inn with a stable that had space for Ultor. He fed and groomed the stallion then wrapped himself in his cloak and curled up on the straw near the horse's front hooves, imploring the stallion to be careful where he stepped. Glaucus had no intention of leaving the animal alone until he had inspected the stable in the daylight to make sure that it met his needs.
The next morning Glaucus set out on foot to see the city. A bit stiff from sleeping on the straw and unaccustomed to the noise of the city at night, he was tired. Who would have guessed that the city never slept? All night long carts had rumbled by the inn accompanied by the clip clop of horse's hooves and the babble and shouts of the drivers. He had grown up with serene summer nights of cricket calls and gentle breezes and he had slept very little.
But, the stable proved to be more than adequate and he made arrangements to board Ultor there until he needed him again.
In the sunlight of early morning the city seemed much more hospitable but no less crowded. The carts and wagons were gone replaced by hordes of people on foot carrying baskets, prepared to do the shopping for the day. Unlike Glaucus, they all seemed to have a specific destination and he was constantly jostled and bumped as he roamed. He finally let the tide of humanity carry him towards the center of the city until an elevated, round building attracted his eye. His hand left the hilt of his sword only long enough to push his way to the two huge pink granite obelisks that marked the entrance to the grounds of the mausoleum of the great emperor Augustus and his family. Fascinated, Glaucus stared up at the structure surrounded by graceful cypress trees. Atop the peaked roof stood a gilt bronze statue of the emperor, glowing like fire in the golden rays of the morning sun. He walked slowly around the building and longed to stay here in this serene place. Instead he plunged back into the throng again, determined to get on with his business.
Shops lined the street now and merchants cried out the value of their wares and darted among the pedestrians hoping to entice them to stop and buy. He had vegetables, soap, bread, leather sandals and a live chicken shoved under his nose as vendors were drawn to the young man with the impressive sword and glinting fibula. He finally raised his hand in a warning to the merchants that he was not in a mood to buy.
Quickly tiring of the crowd, Glaucus once again disentangled himself and stepped into a spacious, serene plaza surrounded by public buildings -- the Campus Martius. In the middle a single tall, graceful column with relief sculpture spiraling its entire circumference soared high into the sky. He tilted back his head so he could look right to the top of the column then he stepped close to the base, which was much taller than he was, and shivered when he saw the name carved there. Marcus Aurelius. The column was in honor of Marcus Aurelius -- the late, great emperor. Glaucus reached out tentative fingers and traced every incised letter of the man's name. This was his father's emperor. Stepping back again he slowly walked around the column, examining what he could see of the remarkable relief. It was a monument to the emperor's victories in war and every scene that he could see showed battles. Was his father here then? Was his father's image depicted there -- a permanent record of Maximus' relationship with this great man and immortalized forever? But, how would he ever know? Glaucus could see only the bottom few feet of the carving, and even that with no great clarity. He walked a distance away and shaded his eyes to better see the statues of the emperor and his wife, Faustina, at the very top. He made a silent promise to the emperor that he would vindicate his general of any wrongdoing if it was the last thing that he ever did. His fingers curled into a fist as he lowered his hand across his chest in salute to the great man. He knew he would return to this place.
The name of the road now changed to Via Lata then curved and narrowed considerably to become Clivis Argentarius and Glaucus knew he was almost into the old city. The sun was almost overhead by the time he passed through the narrow gate of the Servian Wall which had once been the outer wall of old Rome. Glaucus soon found himself at the western end of the Roman Forum, the political, religious and commercial fulcrum of Rome. He stood rooted in awe. He had never imagined the grandeur of this place. It was a huge, open plaza with a series of monumental columns to gods and goddesses marching down the center. The senate was here along with palaces, temples, arches and statues. Everywhere people gathered in groups to talk politics or gossip while others went about their business and visitors, like himself, simply gawked at its pure magnificence. It glittered and gleamed -- white, green and gray marble, most often left in its natural beauty, sometimes carved and painted. Bronze and golden statues, intricate mosaics, terraces filled with flowers, and bubbling fountains added to its glory. Slowly, Glaucus walked the length of the forum and back again, touching, ogling and marveling everything he saw. He stopped in the middle and looked towards the temple of Julius Caesar with its soaring columns and huge, bronze doors. To its right stood the round temple of Vesta and beyond that, on the hill behind, sprawled what could only be the royal palace. At the opposite end, beyond the buildings of the Forum, the curved wall of the Colosseum dominated the skyline and the screams of the spectators carried to his ears on the breeze.
Finally, Glaucus climbed the stairs of the Temple of the Dioscuri and sat down on the top step in the cool shade of its massive columns. He closed his eyes and inhaled the smells and sounds of the great city. He opened them again and watched the people of Rome go about their business -- people of many ethnic origins from all parts of the empire. Thousands of them.
Thousands and thousands.
Suddenly Glaucus was overwhelmed with the futility of his task and his shoulders slumped. How would he ever find anything or anybody in a place this size? A red-haired whore? A former praetorian commander?
His father? How would he ever find him?
Chapter 23 - The Insula
Glaucus was about to knock on the door a third time when it was abruptly pulled open. There was no one there.
"Yes?" a female voice barked.
He adjusted his gaze downward to the very short woman standing in the shadowy atrium but all he could clearly see of her was a huge pile of intricately-styled dark auburn curls.
"You have an apartment for rent?" he asked the hair.
"Who told you so?"
"Uh... the proprietor of the restaurant downstairs. I dined there and asked--"
"Well I'm very particular about who I rent my places too." She started to shut the door but he jammed it with his toe. Irritated, she stepped back and slowly, insultingly, assessed him from head to toe. "Why are you dressed like that?"
"I am in mourning." Glaucus also had a good look at her. 'Old' was his first impression.
"For whom?"
"My mother and brother."
"Where are you from?"
"Spain."
She started to shut the door again and Glaucus wedged it once more. "I don't rent to the likes of you," she stated with conviction.
"To the likes of me? What do you mean by that?"
"What I mean is that I only rent to the senatorial class. You -- obviously -- don't qualify."
"As a matter of fact, I do."
She continued to glare at him suspiciously and cocked her head, an air of superiority emanating from every pore in her body. At the same moment, a thin young man in a white toga squeezed through the doorway behind Glaucus and called out pleasantly, "Good evening, Lady Honoria." She ignored him.
The man slowed his step as he crossed the atrium and glanced back at Glaucus with curiosity.
"Prove it," she demanded, still doubting Glaucus' pedigree.
Glaucus put down his pack on the doorstep and rummaged inside for his father's documents. He handed the appropriate one to the woman and watched as she stepped closer to the light and held the contract at arm's length, squinting as she read the words. Glaucus glanced at the man in the atrium who was leaning against a door observing the proceedings with obvious amusement.
"Your father is a general?" she asked.
"Yes, Domina."
She thrust the document back at him then titled her head and examined the twinkling fibula which was level with the top of her hair. "The apartment's expensive. You have money?"
"How expensive?"
She told him and he gulped.
"And rent's due at the beginning of every month. I expect three month's rent up front."
"May I see the place?"
"Can you afford to see the place?"
"Yes... I'd like to see it."
"You can't bring women in here."
"Yes, I understand."
"No parties."
"Yes--"
"Most of my tenants are very quiet people and won't put up with any nonsense."
"Of course not, Domina. You won't even know I'm here, I assure you."
"Well, come then. Follow me." The petite woman turned and disappeared into the shadows.
"Psst!"
Glaucus halted in mid-step and looked at the young man across the atrium.
"Can you read Greek?" he hissed.
"Greek?"
Yes... can you read it?"
"Yes."
"That's good. The rental contract is in Greek so she can weed out the uneducated and unworthy." The man winked at Glaucus then shoved a key into the lock of his door. "Good luck."
"Are you coming?" the proprietress hollered from the other side of the room and Glaucus scrambled to catch up with her. As she walked he tried to guess her age. Pretty old was all he could manage. The hair was a wig... he was sure of it. The thick auburn curls just didn't go with the deeply lined face. Her cheeks were rouged and her lips stained deep red, the color bleeding into the vertical lines around her mouth. She was dressed in a garment of expensive fabric but it fit her lumpy figure poorly... too tight in some places and too loose in others. She talked to the air in front of her as she walked and Glaucus struggled to hear what she was saying.
"... solid stone so no chance of fire," she bragged. "Few other insuli in Rome can claim that. High ceiling too." She waved her hand over her head and Glaucus noticed the heavy rings on every finger. "Just look at them." She reached a set of stairs and headed up, laboriously taking her time and wheezing by the time she had reached the third floor. "The first floor is for shops and restaurants, as you noticed... very exclusive shops in case you didn't notice."
"They were very nice." In truth, he hadn't even looked at them.
"Only the best in this area of the city. We're only blocks from the palace, you know, and the finest citizens of Rome live in the homes nearby. There are very few insuli around here and I can afford to be very fussy about who I accept as a tenant."
"Yes, Domina. I understand."
She nodded. "The second floor is where I live."
Glaucus wondered who the black-haired man was who had opened a door on that floor with a key. He obviously lived there too.
"There are four apartments on this floor, one on each corner." She paused before a heavy, carved oak door and withdrew a key from the bodice of her dress. She pushed open the door and disappeared into the room, talking again. "This is the reception room, as you can see. Nice green marble... no rough stone in this place. Mosaic floor. The dining room is in there," she pointed. Her voice faded as she scuttled into another room and Glaucus barely had time to look around. "This is the bedroom. Not large but quite comfortable for one. Good furniture as you can see. I expect it to remain that way." She turned abruptly and pushed Glaucus aside as she entered the reception room again then headed for the kitchen. "Kitchen," she gestured with her hand.
"Bathroom over there with running water and sewer -- very rare indeed in Rome." She glanced at him to be sure he had heard and he nodded in acknowledgment. In truth, he was impressed with the place. "Look out the window over there," she demanded.
Glaucus looked over the red tile roof into a beautiful courtyard with flowering shrubs, a marble fountain and statues. A large lemon tree shaded two benches and a woman dozed in one, her chin resting on her chest and her body slumped into a formless mass as she snored loudly. "Very nice," he said.
"You can get to it from the first floor." She placed her hands on her ample hips. "Well?"
"It's wonderful. I would be pleased to be a tenant here, Domina."
She considered him for a long moment as if trying to decide whether he met her standards, then said, "Wait here and I'll get the contract. Don't touch anything."
Glaucus took advantage of her absence to have a better look at the apartment. It was bright and colorful and spotless. Murals of garden scenes brought the outdoors inside. He was lucky to have found it.
"Well?" asked a masculine voice.
Glaucus turned to find the man from the first floor standing in the doorway.
He didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused. "I'm going to take it."
"Excellent!" The man extended his hand. "My name is Marius Vipsanius Agrippa and I live on the first floor."
Glaucus accepted his hand. "Glaucus. Maximus Decimus Glaucus."
"An appropriate name," smiled Marius as he appraised the newcomer. "You've managed to pass every test so far... are you ready for the next one?"
"Reading Greek?"
"Yes."
"That should be no problem, but thanks for warning me."
"I did that for a purely selfish reason, believe me. I am so tired of being the only male in this place and the only person without one foot in the grave. It's populated by rich old widows who gave up their homes on the hill to move in here. You don't know how privileged you are to meet her approval."
Glaucus warmed immediately to this good-natured man who was about his own age. His hair was a mass of unruly black curls and his eyes were a deep brown. He was not particularly handsome -- his nose was too large and his mouth too thin -- but his good nature made him very attractive. "You obviously passed her test too."
Marius grinned. "I didn't even have to take the test. My father is a senator who is currently governor of Cappadocia and he lives here when he's in Rome.
My mother and sisters are at our summer villa west of the city so I'm staying here while I study."
"What are you studying?"
"Politics, what else? My father is grooming me for greatness. I spend my days with tutors and at the libraries and the senate. My nights, alas, have been very dull." He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "That could change now that you're here."
"I have a great deal to accomplish while I'm in Rome, Marius."
The man shrugged his thin shoulders. "You can't work all the time. How long have you been here?"
"I just arrived today."
"Have you been to Rome before?"
"No."
"Well then, allow me to be your tour guide."
"Thank you. I appreciate that."
"What would you like to see first?"
"Prisons, then whorehouses."
Marius was momentarily taken aback but recovered quickly. "Most people want to see palaces and temples and arenas. I can understand whorehouses and I am personally acquainted with the very best... but why prisons?"
"Personal reasons."
"Ah... very cryptic," Marius mused. He motioned to Glaucus' side. "I'll bet that sword is good for starting conversations -- or ending them."
Glaucus' fingers tightened reflexively around the hilt. "It's my father's."
"Is that Marcus Aurelius' seal on the hilt?"
Glaucus glanced down at the sword then appraised Marius again. He had sharp eyes and missed very little. "Yes, it is."
"Well... it's going to be grand having you here, Glaucus."
"Thank--"
"Here it is," said the proprietress as she bustled into the room without a glance at Marius. "Read and sign."
Glaucus accepted the contract and moved to the window for better light. The document was indeed written in Greek -- very formal Greek. Glaucus reminded himself to thank his tutor who had insisted that a knowledge of the language was important if he was to be a great man. Since he had no interest, at the time, in doing anything other than riding horses, he had studied reluctantly. Now his studies had paid off. Suddenly his face darkened and he looked up at the woman and Marius who still lurked by the door. "A year? I must sign for a year? I don't intend to stay in Rome a year, Domina."
"That is the term that I insist on. I don't what people moving in and out all the time. It is a year."
"I... I'm sorry. I'll have to look further then." He truly was disappointed.
"How long did you intend to stay?" she asked.
"A few months at most."
"Well that will never do. I insist on eight months minimum and I have never done that for anyone else."
"I'm sorry." Glaucus reluctantly returned the contract and picked up his pack. "Can you tell me where else I can look?"
"You won't find any other apartments around here, young man. There are very few insuli in this area and there are no vacancies."
"You can try Subura. There are lots of insuli there," said Marius helpfully.
The old woman just sniffed.
"How do I get there?"
"Head back towards the Forum then turn right on Clivus Orbius. Take any street left then turn right on Subura Major. You might not have much luck this time of night, though."
"I'll have to take my chances. Domina... I'm sorry I wasted your time.
Marius, it was nice meeting you."
"I'll see you around, my friend," called Marius as Glaucus descended the stairs.
Chapter 24 - Subura
Marius' directions were very accurate and Glaucus soon found himself leaving the center of Rome for one of its suburbs. The streets narrowed and darkened as night had truly fallen and few torches lit the way. More than once Glaucus stopped and evaluated the prudence of this night-time journey into unknown territory but Subura was not far and he was almost there. Besides...he needed a place to stay.
He smelled Subura before he saw it. His nose wrinkled in distaste as the open sewers spilled foul fumes into the air a sour combination of feces, urine and vomit. The meager glow from the stars was consumed by ramshackle buildings that twisted nine stories into the sky on both sides of the narrow road. The only light to guide him came from the occasional torch and from pale beams that spilled through the cracks in the broken wood of the insuli walls, creating jagged yellow patterns across the stone street.
Glaucus glanced over his shoulder looking for his praetorian followers...hoping, for the first time, to detect them in the shadows. Whether they were friend or foe, their familiar presence would have been comforting. But he was alone. His instincts told him to run but instead he stood rooted to the spot, transfixed by the horror of his surroundings. Tension, like static on a cat's back, surged through his body and into his tingling limbs. He flexed his knees and drew his sword, swiveling his head left and right. Gloomy alleyways twisted away into darkness but not before the dim light revealed piles of rubbish alive with rats and growling, emaciated dogs which routed for their nightly meal. They competed for scraps with humans, bent and crippled with deformities, who kicked at the squealing dogs as they fought over vermin-infested scraps. Other people lay piled in heaps against the rough walls, asleep or unconscious, bathed in the incessant sounds of children crying, adults screaming, and the sick moaning in pain and hopelessness.
Glaucus was horrified and fascinated. He had never imagined Rome to be like this. He had thought the entire city to be like the glorious forum -- elegant and pristine. Subura was unlike anything he had ever seen or imagined. How could people be allowed to live like this in the empire's greatest city?
Glaucus cringed and whirled as something grabbed suddenly at his sleeve, his sword at the ready. The woman didn't even cringe as she faced the deadly weapon. Her eyes raked him boldly. "Whatdya want, cutie? Hand job? Blow job?
I can give ya a deal if yer up to both." The stench from the woman made his stomach flip and he backed away. "What's wrong, honey?" said the woman as she approached. She was painfully thin and her tunic hung in tatters from her bony shoulders. Open sores on her legs oozed yellow puss. "Why don't ya tell me what ya want... hmm?" Suddenly she turned and shrieked at a form behind her. "Get away! I saw him first!" The form skittered away.
Almost frantically, Glaucus dug into his tunic and pulled out some coins.
"Here... here take these and get something to eat." He threw the money at her feet. Her eyes flamed suddenly and bony fingers scooped the coins. She turned and was gobbled by the gloom. Too late, Glaucus realized his mistake.
Human shapes of all sizes now slithered towards him and he brandished his sword in panic. "Stay back! Stay away from me! I have no more."
"Please, sir", begged one form. "I'm starving". His plea was taken up by dozens of others. Glaucus backed away slowly until his calves connected with something fury. The dog yelped and Glaucus stumbled to his knees beside an open cesspool. His hand hit the muck, saving him from a fall but connecting with something squishy and putrid. The dog snarled, its hackles high, the dove for the object, snatching it away again. Glaucus caught sight of ribs and a spine. It was the remains of a human baby.
He was on his feet and running in one quick motion. His feet barely touched the ground as he flew in the direction of the Forum... and light and cleanliness and safety. Only when he was sure the wraiths of Subura were far behind him did he stop to retch at the side of the road. Shaking, he pushed himself to his feet and headed to the Palatine. He had a score to settle.
"Well, Glaucus, nice to--" Marius' words ended abruptly as Glaucus' fist slammed into his jaw, his head snapped back, and he crashed onto the mosaic floor of his apartment, sliding on his back as his mouth gaped in shock. He lay rubbing his chin, his startled expression changing to a grin as he regarded the enraged Spaniard.
"You son-of-a-bitch. I could have been killed!"
Marius laughed. "That was highly unlikely unless that sword at your hip is just an ornament. I choose to believe that you know how to use it." In a split second that sword was under his chin, forcing his head back again and his smile faded. He raised an imploring hand. "Now Glaucus, be reasonable and put that away. Nothing happened to you."
"I got the fright of my life. That place defies description and you knew exactly what you were sending me to."
Glaucus' hand trembled with fury and Marius reached up a cautious finger and shoved the tip of the sword aside. "That's true, and I can't think of another man that I would have dared send there because he would probably have ended up ripped into dozens of pieces by dogs and humans so hungry that they'd eat human flesh. Your father was a general and you carry his sword.
As I said, you look like you know what to do with it. Besides, nothing happened and you're back here where you should be. Now why don't you go get that contract and sign it?"
"You sent me to Subura just to get me back here?" Glaucus was incredulous and he let the sword tip drop harmlessly. "Why?"
"I told you. I'm selfish. I get bored with humoring old women by listening to them babble about their aches and pains. " He extended his arm. "Come on.
Help me up." Glaucus ignored him and turned his back as Marius struggled to his feet and wiggled his jaw then smoothed his toga. "You've got quite a punch."
His comment was met with silence.
"Tell you what. Why don't you stay here tonight and you can sign that contract in the morning. I've got a spare bedroom... and a bath. Believe me, Glaucus," Marius laughed, "you could use a bath."
Glaucus sheathed his sword but was still agitated as he headed for the door.
"I need to see her tonight if I'm going to rent here. She might lease the apartment to someone else."
"She won't. I already paid the three months down payment for you. You can pay me back."
Glaucus turned and stared at the amused man in amazement. "You're an arrogant bastard, aren't you?"
"Absolutely!"
"I don't have much choice, do I?"
"Not really. Glaucus, I'm sorry that I sent you there tonight. You're from the provinces, aren't you?" At Glaucus' scowl Marius added hastily. "I
didn't mean that as an insult... far from it. I simply meant that you have probably never seen anything like Subura--"
"That's an understatement."
"--and were more shocked than I thought you'd be."
"Why does Rome let a place like that exist?"
Marius smiled sadly as he moved to a cabinet and removed two glasses and an ornate decanter. As he poured wine he explained, "The senators don't have to do anything because the place takes care of itself." At Glaucus' raised eyebrows, he continued. "Fires. All the time. Those places are tinderboxes and go up in flames every month or so thinning Rome's population considerably." He extended his hand towards a leather chair. "Come. Sit down." He settled into a leather chair opposite Glaucus. "Besides, many men of the senatorial class make good use of the place."
Glaucus remembered the whore and thought he knew where the conversation was going.
"Cheap sex."
"I saw the vehicles of 'cheap sex'. I can't believe any man would risk touching those diseased women."
"Oh, it's not the women they want. The men that go there want forbidden fruit... other men...boys. They satisfy desires that they wouldn't dare risk slaking in respectable Rome. The men and children in Subura know that they will survive as long as they keep their mouths shut about their patrons. If they breathe a word they die and nobody cares."
Glaucus was silent for a moment as he stared at the floor. "Rome isn't what I thought it would be," he said quietly.
"Disillusioned already?" Marius teased. "You haven't even seen the worst of it yet."
"What do you mean?"
"The prisons. You said you wanted to visit prisons."
Glaucus nodded.
"Any particular reason?"
"I'm looking for someone who may have been imprisoned in Rome."
"Who?"
Glaucus locked eyes with Marius then said levelly, "My father."
Marius sat up in shock, the liquid in his glass sloshing over his hand, dripping from his fingers like blood. "The general?"
Glaucus was pleased that he has been able to shock this cocky young man.
"Yes, the general. General of the Felix legions and commander of the northern legions under Marcus Aurelius." He sighed deeply and whispered, "My father."
Marius slumped back into his chair. "Glaucus, there is only one prison in Rome where a man like your father would be held -- the Tullian Prison.
But--"
"Where is it?"
"You walk back out Clivus Argentarius which, I assume, is the way you entered Rome, then turn left on Vicus Pallacinae. There's an army camp there where the praetorian live and the prison is part of that big complex. The praetorian run the Tullian prison which is part of the Lautumiae Prison."
Glaucus wondered if that was where 'his' praetorian were staying. "Why do the praetorian run it?"
"Because it's a state prison where political prisoners are kept. Important people... Cleopatra's sister, Arsinoe, was imprisoned there. Tribal chieftains are too after they're paraded through Rome. Then they're executed there. Common criminals are kept in the Lautumiae Prison before they're shipped off to the arenas to die. Glaucus," Marius said hesitantly, "conditions there are dreadful... indescribable... and prisoners rarely live long. How long would your father have been there?"
"I don't know that he's ever been there but if he has... almost eighteen years."
Marius just shook his head then he slowly rose and approached Glaucus, grasping his shoulder in a comforting manner. "Come, my friend, and I'll show you where the bath is and your bedroom. It's very late and you certainly have a difficult time ahead of you." Glaucus rose and faced him.
"I can spare some time away from my studies, " Marius continued. "I'll help you in your search for your father. I'm just very sorry that your first trip to Rome has to be under such circumstances."
Glaucus nodded and sighed again.
Marius cuffed him on the chin in a playful imitation of the blow that had flattened him earlier. Glaucus finally smiled. "And then I'll give you a tour of Rome's finest baths and whorehouses, my friend. We have to make your visit fun somehow."
Chapter 25 - The letter Home
Glaucus pulled out a fresh sheet of papyrus, dipped his quill in the black ink and started again:
Dearest mama and papa,He stopped writing and tapped the handle of the quill against his lower lip as he pondered those words. It was unusual to start a letter on such a familiar note but he hesitated to use the more accepted "mother and father" preferring now to reserve those dear terms for his real parents, Olivia and Maximus. He needed, somehow, to separate the people who had raised him -- his aunt and uncle -- from his real flesh and blood; to compartmentalize the parents who weren't really his parents from the man and woman who had given him life. So, for the time being, Augusta and Titus would be "mama and papa" which suited the loving and familiar relationship he shared with them. He still didn't have a clear image of his accomplished father. Maximus was still murky and indistinct in his mind and somewhat distant in his heart.
That was slowly changing, however, as he discovered more about him, and he was gradually warming to Maximus the man rather than Maximus the general.
But they had never even seen each other, never laughed together or shared a meal... or a simple touch.
He dipped the now-dry quill and continued:
I have been in Rome for two days now and am settled into a secure apartment near the royal palace in a good part of the city. I will enclose the address at the end of the letter so you may return my greetings. Please know that I am well and have already made a friend here who promises to help me search for my father. His father is a governor of a Roman province and I'm sure he can be trusted.
Glaucus pondered that last word. He didn't want to write anything that might alarm his aunt and uncle and imply that there were people that he couldn't trust. But this was his third attempt at the letter and he was weary of starting again. He would have to chose his words with care.
Rome is an astonishing city, very large with citizens from all over the empire. Most parts are quite elegant with some areas less so but, once again, be assured that I am settled into a fine area of the city.
Was he trying to reassure himself?
I was accompanied on my journey from Germania only by Ultor, having left Apollo with Jonivus, my father's former engineer, in Vindobona. I will collect him there when I have attained my goal. Ultor is in fine hands as well even though I am unable to keep him near me as no horses are allowed inside the city during the day unless you are a praetorian.
Glaucus vowed that he would not mention the word "praetorian" again and had no intention of telling his aunt and uncle that he had been followed from Germania by agents of the emperor. He didn't want them to worry or, worse still, insist that he return home.
Jonivus was a great source of information, but he also presented even more questions that I hope I can answer here. I am in search of a woman that my father once knew when he averted Cassius' plot to overthrow the emperor. I
also hope to find my father's former second-in-command, Quintus, who I understand was appointed praetorian commander under Commodus.
As you know, I hope to find my father alive and Jonivus gave me sufficient information to support your beliefs that Maximus did not die in Germania but may have, indeed, returned to Spain. After that, the trail goes cold but I hope to find people here who may shed some light on his subsequent disappearance. Tomorrow, I will visit the Tullian prison to see if there is any record of his having being imprisoned there.
After that I have a full itinerary and Marius, my new friend, insists that I have some fun too. I hesitate to waste any time--
"Glaucus?" Marius' voice was muffled through the door.
"Yes, I'm here. Come in," Glaucus shouted.
--but Marius insists on being my guide and showing me the sites of the city.
A cool breeze ruffled the edge of the parchment as Marius opened and closed the door. "What are you doing?"
"Writing a letter."
Marius rolled his eyes. "I can see that."
"To my aunt and uncle, as if it’s any of your business. I haven't contacted them since I left home and I want to reassure them that I'm alright."
Glaucus sighed. "I'm not a very good letter writer, I'm afraid. I've never had anybody to write to before."
Marius vaulted his thin body into a leather chair and threw his knee over a polished wooden arm, his leg swinging casually as he slouched and regarded Glaucus with interest. The leather creaked gently with every movement.
"I knew it was your first trip away from home," he teased.
Glaucus ignored him and tried to continue, wondering what else he should include in the letter.
I miss my home and the green hills of Spain, and all of my family, and the horses. But, I feel that I am accomplishing much.
He glanced over at Marius who was regarding his manicured fingernails. A livid purple bruise marred his left jaw but Glaucus felt no remorse whatsoever. He returned to his letter.
I do not know how long my quest will keep me from home but be sure that I will return when I have found the answers to all of my questions--
"Would there be any reason for someone to follow you?"
Glaucus glanced up, startled, his quill making a puddle of black ink where it pierced the papyrus. He cursed and blotted the stain as best he could. He tried to keep his voice casual. "Why would you ask that?"
"Because I noticed a couple of men lurking in the shadows the night you arrived here." Marius raised his eyes to meet Glaucus'. "Those same men followed you to Subura."
"They did?"
"So... you admit it?"
Glaucus looked at his letter and dipped the quill again but his concentration was gone. His pen hovered over the papyrus until a shiny bead dripped from the point adding another black stain to the letter. He put it down and sat back, folding his arms across his stomach. He said nothing.
"They're outside again now. I'm sure they think they're hidden but I'm a pretty observant fellow... and I don't think they're following me or the old ladies who live here." He cocked an eyebrow at Glaucus. "So... what's it all about? Am I putting myself in a compromising situation by helping you?"
"Probably."
"I appreciate your honesty." Marius continued to contemplate his new friend.
"Who are they?"
"Praetorians."
Now both eyebrows shot up. "Well... I'm impressed my friend. It isn't everybody who warrants personal attention from the emperor."
Glaucus stroked his beard. "I'm very flattered," he said sarcastically.
"What did you do?"
"Apparently I asked too many questions. Other than that... I have no idea."
"Questions about...?"
"My father."
"Oh." Marius nodded thoughtfully. "So, the emperor heard about your curiosity and ordered his men to find out why?"
"The emperor didn't hear about it. I spoke directly to him--"
Marius sat up straight. "You did? I've never even met the emperor--" he jerked his head in the direction of the palace, "-- and I live practically under his nose." He scowled thoughtfully. "Where did you meet him?"
"In Germania a few weeks ago."
"Germania. I heard he was in the east."
"He wasn't when I met him. He was in my father's fortress in Vindobona...living in a house that was built for my father."
Marius detected the bitterness in the words. "The emperor owns everything in the empire, you know, Glaucus," Marius said kindly. "If he wanted to march in here and take this insula for himself, he could do it."
Glaucus glanced at the letter and wondered if he should mention his meeting with Septimius Severus to his family. Maybe another time, he decided. It would be very hard to explain. Marius got this attention again.
"Are you in danger?" Marius tone was more curious than alarmed.
"I honestly don't know."
Marius rose and moved to the window with the fluid grace of a lanky young man, leaning his hands on the sill to look into the courtyard. He finally turned his back to the window, his form darkened and face obscured by the sunlight streaming around him. "You don't trust me, do you?"
Glaucus replied without hesitation. "I don't know you. And since I don't understand why I am being followed I don't know who I can trust. I have probably told you too much as it is."
"Well, I don't blame you. I wouldn't either if I were in your position."
"Thank you for understanding."
"I have to admit, though, that I am curious about you and your father. What little you have told me has aroused my interest. I know something about history, Glaucus, studying politics the way I do. I am a great admirer of Marcus Aurelius. Rome has never been the same since his death and Commodus took over. Then, of course, everything fell apart after he was killed in the arena and the leadership went to the highest bidder under the control of the praetorians."
Glaucus decided to take advantage of the direction that the conversation had taken. "Have you ever heard of a praetorian commander named Quintus? I don't know his last name."
"Yes. He was commander of the praetorian under Commodus." Marius' head dropped and he closed his eyes, as if shutting out the world would help summon the desired information to his mind. "Clarus. His name was Quintus Clarus, I believe."
"You have a good memory."
"I have a head for trivia."
"It's not trivia to me. Before Quintus Clarus was praetorian commander he was my father's legate. He was promoted to praetorian commander the very night Marcus Aurelius died and my father disappeared."
"Well... that's very interesting. Very interesting indeed."
"What happened to him?"
"He grabbed control of Rome as praetorian commander after Commodus was killed. There was a senator at the time -- Graccus, I believe -- who was charged with restoring the empire to a republic. I'm not sure who gave him the authority to do that. And, young Lucius Verus should have succeeded Commodus. But Lucius was just a child and Graccus just a senator. Neither of them had any power. Quintus and the praetorian seized control of Rome and proceeded to auction off the throne to the highest bidder -- with all proceeds going to the praetorians, of course. It was one of the darkest periods of Roman history and the empire was very unstable for a while."
"How long?"
"Well, until Septimius Severus took control, actually. Quite a while."
"What happened to Quintus then?"
"Severus didn't trust anyone that he didn't personally know. When he marched into Rome with his northern armies he replaced all of the praetorians with his own men. I can't remember all of the details but it was an interesting story. Severus rounded up all of the previous praetorians and stripped them of all power, ordering them out of Rome into exile."
"Exile?"
"Yes. They weren't allowed to live within a hundred miles of Rome. They were stripped of all of their land and riches, even their horses. I remember now... a story about one praetorian whose horse tried to follow him. He killed the horse then killed himself. They were totally disgraced."
"So Quintus won't be in Rome."
"It's not likely... if he's even still alive."
Glaucus' mouth tightened into a thin line. "I was hoping to find him here.
He has the answers to many of my questions."
"I might be able to help you, Glaucus. I have friends... contacts... who have been in Rome a long time. Friends of my father. They might be able to help you find him."
Glaucus rose and crossed the mosaic floor to lean against the wall so the light would illuminate Marius rather than conceal him. "I appreciate that but if you help me you may jeopardize your own position here. For some reason Severus doesn¹t want me to find out anything. He tried to send me east from Germania. I'm sure he's not pleased that I ignored him."
"He's not a man who likes his wishes ignored," agreed Marius. "But, I'm a man who likes to tweak people's noses even if they wield a lot of power.
Keep something in mind, Glaucus. A man is only an emperor until the next one comes along. His chances of reigning long these days are slim -- it's actually a very insecure position. Even slimmer are his chances of establishing a dynasty which is what Severus hopes to do. Look at the number of emperors who have been murdered--"
"Like Marcus Aurelius."
"Well... there certainly was a rumor about that but nothing was ever proved.
You think he was murdered?"
"Yes."
"And... that has something to do with your father?"
"He had nothing to do with the death of the emperor," Glaucus said adamantly but then dropped his voice, "but he may have known the truth about what happened. As I said, he was ordered executed by Commodus the very night of Marcus Aurelius' death but all evidence points to the fact that he escaped."
"To where?"
"I don't know. He may have returned to Spain for a short time but then he disappeared."
"And that's why you think he may have been imprisoned here?"
"It's possible."
"Well, if he was ever in Rome there is good chance that he did wind up in the Tullian prison, but no one could survive long in that disease-ridden hell hole so don't get your hopes too high. Romans are notorious record-keepers, though, so if he was ever in prison there'll be a record of it." Marius walked slowly to stand face-to-face with Glaucus. "Do you want me to go there for you? It might be safer if you stay out of sight."
"No, I have to see it for myself." He smiled to soften his words. "Thank you, Marius, but I need to do this myself."
"Then I'll go with you." He raised his hand to silence Glaucus' protests.
"You have no idea how boring my life was, my friend, until you came along and brought intrigue with you." He clasped Glaucus' shoulder. "I don't expect you to trust me completely until I have proven to you that you should. In the meantime, just let me tag along and help you in any way I can."
Glaucus hesitated for only a moment before he nodded.
"Good. Now let's have some fun today by losing your praetorian escort."
"How do you suggest we do that?"
Marius grinned and nodded at the window.
"I've already pulled that trick."
Marius' face fell. He thought for a moment. "Oh. Well... they wouldn't pay attention to a group of old women leaving the insula, would they?"
It was Glaucus' turn to raise his eyebrows.
"Every afternoon three of the ladies go out to shop with their servants.
That could become a group of five."
"I have beard, in case you haven't noticed, and you're too tall for an old lady."
"Shave it... and I'll stoop. The ladies will lend us clothing and wigs.
They're bored too."
Glaucus scowled.
"Look at yourself, man. Your beard will grow back in a few days."
Glaucus resisted raising his hand to his chin. He finally sighed and nodded, then his scowl gradually changed to a grin as he followed Marius out of the apartment.
Two hours later, five chattering ladies with their female servants exited the front door of the insula. From the shadows across the street the two men casually examined the group before turning their eyes back to the door and slumping against the wall again, hoping that they would soon be relieved from the tedious task of following Maximus Decimus Glaucus.
