It’s amazing the power a voice has to take you back in time, and for the first time in many years I wondered how her unfortunate mother now fared since her exile from Rome.
Fortunately for me Agrippina didn’t notice my distraction and continued regardless. ‘May I meet your companion? Such a beautiful elegant tunic you’re wearing. You must tell me who you bought it from?’
Numeria pinched my arm as she moved past me to meet the imperator’s granddaughter; Numeria hadn’t missed my temporary distraction. ‘Such an honour to meet you, my lady. This tunic was actually a gift from Cassius. He is surprisingly thoughtful for one who doesn’t always remember where he is.’
Yes, she’d definitely noticed. I cleared my throat. ‘It was purchased at a stall just off the Oppian Hill.’
Agrippina looked taken aback, eyes sparkling. ‘You mean you actually shop in the streets of Rome? How delightful! I always have the cloth-makers present me their wares in our home. Germanicus, we must take a shopping trip in the streets one day!’
Germanicus gave me a broad smile and slapped me on the arm. ‘That will get the Rome gossips talking. You might be getting me into trouble, Cassius.’
As this jolly discourse continued, I noticed the other audience members were looking on wide-eyed and bemused, too surprised by the casual rude disruption to their entertainment to voice any criticism. ‘Do you think we should take our seats?’ I offered to our two important hosts.
‘Yes, yes,’ said Germanicus. ‘I hate delays to the theatre. Someone fetch me some wine first.’
It took quite a while for everyone to retake their seats, wine to be brought for us all, cushions replaced that weren’t up to scratch for the royal behinds, guards to take their places discreetly to the sides, and the actors to retake their places to recommence the play from the beginning.
Eventually the play restarted, but the funny quips from the nymph Lara didn’t quite have the same impact the second time around, and the shocking disclosure by Lara on the God Jupiter’s gift didn’t quite hold the same level of shock as it’d produced when we first heard it. Luckily for me, I now had a large goblet of wine in my hand, so I could sup my way through it, finding the whole carry-on rather amusing, even though I could tell when I looked at Numeria out of the side of my eyes that she was steaming with annoyance inside.
The play continued and the god Jupiter was scolded and beaten by his wife Juno. In turn, he took out his wrath on the unfortunate Lara, who had her tongue split, so she lost the power of her speech. Jupiter then asked the god Mercury to escort her down to the underworld, to live there for all time.
The sets changed as we saw the winged god Mercury escort the fair Lara through the mountains, and the play was actually quite moving, as Mercury slowly fell in love with Lara, who was now so quiet and demure since Jupiter had taken her voice. The actors kept the audience spellbound as Lara began slowly to return those same feelings, and Mercury decided to risk everything by defying Jupiter and halting their journey to the underworld. The two lovers instead spirited away to the hidden sunlit woods that Mercury called his home. As they set up home in a small cottage in the woods, the people of the forest joined our fair couple in welcoming them and danced along the stage.
I looked over at Numeria, and once again her eyes were sparkling with excitement, rapt attention written all over her face as once again she lost herself completely in the story. I sometimes envied Numeria the total immersion she felt at these times. For myself, I found the story pleasing, but ultimately I knew it was just some seedy actors behind those pretty painted clay masks trying to make me believe what I was seeing. But for Numeria she seemed to really be transported to those sunlit woods, and as the musicians played the songs of the forest, I could see Numeria’s feet were beginning to move to the sound of the music, desperate to join the forest nymphs in their dance through the forest.
After the dance, Mercury and Lara were blessed with two children – called simply the Lares – and once again those in the forest rejoiced. But then the play started to take a dark turn as they began to worry they would be found by the god Jupiter, who we saw walking through the woods searching for them.
Mercury and Lara were terrified that one day Jupiter’s anger would catch up with them, and so in desperation Mercury turned his two children invisible, a trick that was cleverly done on stage using a great puff of colour of blues and greens – which I guessed was in fact coloured flour – that suddenly erupted in a big clap of drums. When the flour finally settled, the two children were no longer there; instead, we just heard their whispering and their giggling as they ran through the woods playing tricks on the woodland people.
The people of the forest soon learned to set their tables with extra places, and an extra plate and cup, for the two children known as the Lares. Otherwise they knew the mischievous softly spoken children, who were completely invisible, might just play a trick on them.
The play ended to rapturous applause, as all clapped, snapped their fingers, or flapped their togas in order to signify their approval. Both Germanicus and Agrippina stood and mounted the stage to acknowledge the applause, being the benefactors of the play. None clapped louder than Numeria, who smiled brightly at the end of the play. ‘I’m so glad you brought me, Cassius. It was truly magical, don’t you think?’
I smiled, happy that I’d done something that pleased her. ‘It really was, such a lavish production. I’ve never seen one so fine. The sets, the effects, truly brilliant.’
She gave a slight frown. ‘I was slightly disappointed in Lara at first, but I guess I just forgot about that once the story got going.’ She then laughed. ‘Besides, once Jupiter took her tongue, you couldn’t tell it was really a young boy under that mask!’
I shook my head. ‘Don’t start that argument again. Let’s congratulate our hosts.’
Numeria spun round, saying, ‘Of course,’ before going over to Agrippina, who’d dismounted from the stage, and embracing her.
I went over and clapped Germanicus on the shoulder. ‘You’ve made Numeria very happy. For that alone I owe you.’
Germanicus gave me his trademark smile, which I was now getting used to. ‘It was my pleasure. You can repay me by joining me for dinner. Numeria must come too. It looks like my wife likes her.’
We looked over at the two women, who were talking excitedly about the play, Numeria raising her arms in a parody of the forest dance that she’d enjoyed so much. I smiled. ‘They do seem to be getting on well.’
Germanicus nodded. ‘Ask your litter to follow mine. It will be easier going through the guards at the Palatine Hill if you’re following me. I’ll tell them to admit you.’
This was embarrassing. ‘I don’t have a litter, Germanicus. I’m afraid we walked here.’
Germanicus looked aghast. ‘You walked? Why by gods did you do that?’
I blushed and rubbed the back of my neck. ‘I don’t actually own a litter or the slaves to carry one.’
Germanicus shook his head in confusion. ‘But your family is one of the richest in Rome. Why don’t you have a fully equipped household?’
I shrugged. ‘Up until recently I was a carefree bachelor living alone in Rome. A litter seemed of little use. I’ve always just walked everywhere.’
Germanicus gave a short laugh. ‘You’re a strange one, Cassius. I’ve never known the like. Never mind, I will get the production’s owner to lend you his. I can’t have you turning up at the Palatine like a beggar from the streets.’
I gave a crooked smile as I looked around at the audience who were now streaming out of the theatre, all chatting and talking in excitement at what they’d seen. ‘I doubt the man who organised this show will be pleased to lose his litter for the night.’
Germanicus laughed. ‘The walk home will do him good. He has put on an extra layer of fat since we commissioned this play. I must be paying him too much. Besides, if I know him he won’t be leaving the theatre after an opening night. He’ll be celebrating for quite some
time.’
Agrippina came over to us both, Numeria trailing behind her. ‘Germanicus, we must see more of these two. Numeria is a delight.’
Germanicus gave a broad grin. ‘Already taken care of, my dear. They’re joining us for dinner!’
It was actually some time before Numeria and I left in the commissioned litter that Germanicus had organised. The delay was caused by all the people the imperial couple needed to thank and meet before they left for the evening. Therefore, the sun was dipping behind the hills of Rome before we were lifted up by the six slaves who carried the litter and started their slow pace through the winding streets. The specially trained slaves walked with a slow steady gait, so the ride was comfortable and relaxing as Numeria and I reclined in the curtained box.
Numeria scoffed. ‘I always feel ridiculous in these things. Why couldn’t we just have walked?’
I grinned and positioned myself more comfortably on the soft cushions. ‘Germanicus insisted. He doesn’t want us showing him up when we get there.’
Numeria pursed her lips. ‘I guess you were right about dressing up. I would have felt completely dowdy in one of my normal stolas or tunics. Agrippina and Germanicus are both very glamourous.’
I took hold of one of her hands. ‘You’d have still outshone them both with your beauty. But yes, Germanicus always did have a tendency for the ostentatious.’
Numeria gave a slight frown. ‘Yes, I can see that. Although he’s not quite what I expected. I thought you hated the grandsons of Augustus growing up?’
My eyes opened wide in panic as I signalled Numeria to be quiet. I popped my head out of the curtain to check that none of the slaves had overheard Numeria’s indiscretion. Fortunately, this being a very grand litter, the slaves were quite far back from the cabin and unlikely to have heard Numeria’s soft voice over the clatter of noise of from the busy Roman streets, where everyday folk were still going about their daily business. I whispered to her. ‘Quiet, Numeria. This isn’t our own litter. You don’t know who’s listening.’
She gave an apologetic look and whispered back, ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to.’
I put my arm around her and spoke quietly in her ear. ‘Don’t worry, no one would have heard, but you have to be careful where we’re going. You can’t trust anyone.’
We continued speaking in soft whispers from then on, wary in case our voices carried as we moved away from the more crowded streets. Numeria didn’t let the conversation drop however. ‘I remember you used to complain when you visited our estate in your youth. You bitterly resented the preferential treatment that Augustus’ grandsons used to receive at your Palatine school.’
I stroked the side of her arm. ‘Yes, that’s true. Both Gaius and Lucius were insufferable pains, but Germanicus wasn’t like the other two.’
She looked up at me with her deep brown eyes. ‘Why?’
I smiled. ‘Well, he wasn’t a true grandson for starters. My namesake Gaius and his brother Lucius were the sons of Julia and Agrippa. That made them direct relations of Augustus and the heirs to the empire. Most of the other boys crawled and creeped around them, and it used to make Julius and me sick with disgust for them. Germanicus was only an adopted grandson, related to Livia but unlikely to be anything more important than that. The death of Gaius and Lucius has changed all that, I guess.’
Numeria snuggled into my chest – travelling by litter wasn’t so bad after all; I considered whether maybe I should buy one and a few slaves to carry it. She stroked my chest. ‘When they died, Rome was sent into mourning. We were told the death of them both was a tragedy and that Rome would forever be the poorer for their loss.’
I scoffed. ‘Trust me, Rome under either of those two spoilt brats would have been a nightmare. Neither was fit to command a legion, let alone the empire. I should know. I saw Gaius die in Syria whilst I served out there.’
She looked up at me. ‘So you still didn’t like him when he grew up.’
My eyes went distant in remembrance of the annoyingly arrogant young man. ‘Unless you were toadying for him constantly he was a hard man to like.’
She looked down again. ‘How did he die?’
I shook my head slowly. ‘By being completely stupid. But that’s a tale for another day. It makes me uneasy speaking of it.’
She rested her head back on my arm. ‘And Lucius had died just eighteen months before from an illness. It was an unlucky turn of events for that family, don’t you think?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose it was. They say it took Augustus a long time to get over their loss. Against all reason he was devoted to the two of them.’
Numeria looked up at me sharply. ‘You don’t think we’ll see Augustus tonight in the imperial palace?’
I laughed softly. ‘You don’t think I would have agreed to this dinner if there was even the remotest chance of that, do you? No, the complex on the Palatine is surprisingly large, with many buildings and separate areas. Augustus and Livia live alone in one part of the Palatine and keep to themselves a lot. Whilst schooling there, I virtually never saw them. Don’t worry, this dinner will just be for Germanicus, his wife, and the two of us. We won’t hear sight or sound from the imperator of our nation, trust me.’
Chapter Six
‘No, no, no!’ Imperator Caesar Augustus, the man with full imperium power over all the legions, Pontifex Maximus of Rome, first amongst equals in the Senate, heir of the divine Julius, and without any shadow of a doubt the most powerful man in the world, was berating a young male slave who’d handed him a cup of wine. ‘Why are you wasting the silver vassals? The terra sigillata will do for this lot!’
The young slave, who held the privileged position of serving the princeps himself, was well trained and knew enough about this family not to instantly leap to obey, but instead slowly bowed whilst subtly looking out of the corner of his eye at Livia, who was lounging, as graceful as a silver cat, next to us on an elegant divan in one of the large opulent rooms of the Palatine Palace. She gave a slight frown. ‘My dear, you’re being rude. Of course the wine needs to be served in the silver. I’ll not have these dear guests of ours supping out of the red pottery.’
As soon as the four of us arrived at the Palatine, I realised that the quiet intimate dinner I’d expected with Germanicus and his wife was not going to be the course of events. Instead, we’d all been taken into the presence of Augustus and his wife, Livia, to recline on divans in one of the grand reception rooms that I imagined the imperator normally used to meet foreign dignitaries, or other people he wanted to shock and awe with the wealth and power of the Roman capital. The calm manner exuded by the slaves that had escorted us here led me to believe that we’d been expected. However, the embarrassed expression of my former school friend, and the annoyance on the face of Agrippina, showed me that Germanicus and his wife had been taken by surprise too.
To make matters worse, Augustus was in a bad mood. A really bad mood. He was pacing around, too irritable to recline on the divans like the rest of us. ‘Pah! Anyone with the name Aprilis can be expected to be late for everything. Why waste the silver on him?’
The imperator had pronounced my cognomen with the same amount of derision and disdain that his grandsons had used at his school all those years before, but this time Augustus’ attention wasn’t on me, so I ignored the barb. He continued to his slave, ‘The terra sigillata is good enough for me. Go fetch me my cup.’
This time the slave did obey and came back with a plain red gloss pottery cup, which he filled with wine and passed to Augustus, who took it with a scowl before swallowing some and grimacing. ‘The wine is bad.’
The slave offered to take it back and replace it with another, but Augustus said, ‘Oh, it will do. Get out of my sight. Why does everything have to be so difficult with you?’
I admired the slave’s composure as he slowly backed away, not in the least flustered by his bad-tempered dismissal. I suspected that Augustus wasn’t the easiest master to work for, honour and prestige or
not. We continued to sup the excellent wine reclining on divans, the guests drinking self-consciously from silver cups, the supreme ruler of the Roman Empire drinking from his plain pottery one.
Augustus wasn’t looking his best. He was never a physically imposing man, but his profile and bearing, one that every Roman knew well from the endless statues of him that littered the Roman capital and the rest of the Roman world, normally held a refined dignity. But tonight his hair was awry, his toga looked slept in, deep circles hung under his eyes – although those still held the same brightness and intensity that I remembered. He asked Germanicus, ‘So how was this great play of yours? Were you booed off before you reached the end?’
Germanicus kept his voice slow and calm. ‘On the contrary, the play was a great success. The actors all received a long ovation after the performance.’
Augustus snapped. ‘What good is that to us? Actors have morals no better than slaves. What do I care if they were cheered? Did the people acknowledge that it was you who put on and paid for this performance?’
Germanicus nodded. ‘Don’t worry, my lord, both your granddaughter and I received a long ovation ourselves.’
Augustus growled. ‘Was it because the audience were drunk?’
Germanicus smiled. ‘I saw no sign of drunkenness. The Theatre of Pompey attracts a quite respectful crowd.’
Augustus wasn’t convinced. ‘Pah. Probably only because you had paid supporters in the crowd? To applaud at the right time and encourage the others?’
Germanicus shook his head. ‘No more than the six that the theatre owns. I was offered more but declined.’
Augustus grunted. ‘Well that was foolish. It could have gone badly for you.’
Germanicus turned to me. ‘The night was a triumph. Wouldn’t you agree, Cassius?’
Well thank you, Germanicus. Feeling as if I’d been thrown under the chariots at the Circus Maximus, I stammered a reply as best I could. ‘The craftsmanship of the story was very cleverly done.’
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