Knight of Rome Part II
By
Malcolm Davies
.
Copyright Malcolm Davies 2019
All Rights reserved.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is unintentional excepting
historical personages who are mentioned for contextual purposes only
Following events described in “Knight of Rome Part I” friends and comrades, the Suevi warrior Otto, now called Otto Longius, and Tribune Lucius Taurius Longius, (nicknamed “Boxer”) have been summoned from their legion camp on the Rhine to an audience with Emperor Augustus. Impressed by Otto’s act of courage in saving his commander’s life in battle, the Emperor grants Otto Roman Citizenship and promotes him to the Equestrian Order. At the same time, recognising the personal loyalty shown by Lucius, Augustus politically rehabilitates his family and makes him a generous gift of gold. The Emperor ends the audience and they are escorted from his presence leaving them still in Rome under the care of Praetorian Tribune Cassius Plancus.
Chapter 1
It was two in the afternoon when they stood in the street with the doors of Augustus’ palace closed behind them. Lucius and Otto wrapped their arms around each other and danced on the spot. When they stood apart, gasping, Cassius said it had looked like a blond bear was crushing Lucius to death and that he for one, was glad the spectacle was over. There was an awkward pause. Neither Lucius nor Otto quite knew what to do next. Cassius took control; he stepped in between them and linked both their arms.
“Banks. Merchants. No time for idleness! Sound just like Augustus, don’t I?” he said, guiding them down the Palatine Hill. “Congratulations by the way. No idea how you managed it but you seem to have really impressed him. Bit of advice, Boxer, in general, it doesn’t do to tell an emperor he’s got the wrong end of the stick. And Otto, never say death before dishonour because on another day, he would have taken you at your word. First thing, let’s get you to a public bank and deposit your money.”
“I have no money,” Otto told him. “They gave Boxer a purse of gold, they just handed me a piece of paper.”
“That is your money, Otto old boy; it’s a draft on the Imperial Treasury for what the Emperor promised. We pay it into the bank, the banker gives you his draft and you can use that to pay for your new estate.” Otto looked at the small sheet of best Egyptian paper with its wax seals. “Think about it. Could you walk around with one hundred and five thousand denarii in your purse? You’d need a couple of mules with saddle bags to hold it all. And how long do you think you’d last before someone stole the lot? No, the paper system works well; provided you use a public bank, not a private one.”
Otto’s “money” was paid in and he received a banker’s draft for the amount less one thousand denarii he took in cash. The banker suggested he keep the draft in his strongbox.
“If you were robbed and it was taken, all your money would be gone exactly as if it had been in gold. I will give you a receipt. If you show it to me or my senior clerk, you can retrieve your draft at any time,” he advised.
Otto looked at Cassius who nodded and so the business was completed.
“Congratulations, sir, on winning such favour of the Emperor,” the banker told him as they left.
It was still only mid-afternoon.
“Let’s go back to the tailors and get you your tunics,” Lucius suggested to Otto who looked at him blankly. “You are a member of the Equites, a knight. You must now wear a narrow-striped tunic. It is expected.”
Otto looked again at Cassius who had become his accepted expert on all matters pertaining to wealth and rank. Cassius nodded. Otto handed him his purse bulging with silver.
“Can you arrange a banquet?” he asked. “I must feast the officers to celebrate my good fortune…and wine for the soldiers, all the soldiers!”
“I most certainly shall, Otto. I’ll do you proud,” he said feeling the weight of the purse.
They went to the same tailor again but before Lucius could say anything, Otto spoke.
“Good man, we are not Praetorians although our friend who was with us the other day is. He advised us to wear their white togas for our protection in the city. I want two narrow-striped tunics in the pattern worn by Roman Knights,” he gestured to Lucius, “my other friend here will pay the correct price for them and for the clothes we have already bought from you. Do not cheat us.”
Lucius glared at Otto. The tailor went pale and then beamed with delight.
“Sir, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I have your measurements, one hour is all I need but, sir there may be a problem…. “
Lucius anticipated him. “The Emperor has just enrolled the noble Otto Longius who stands before you, in the Order of Equites. You may proceed.”
Otto then insisted they paid the bootmaker who still looked terrified and looked at the coins Lucius had placed in his hands as if it they represented some sort of entrapment. Next, the jewellers that Cassius had recommended A swarthy, black bearded man wearing robes and a skullcap from which two curled strands of hair tumbled on either side of his face, led them into his workshop and showroom past two guards with cudgels thrust through their thick leather belts.
“Cassius Plancus gave us your name,” Lucius said.
The jeweller’s face fell.
“We will pay a fair price,” Otto told him
“Ah, who is to say what is fair?”
“What we agree.” Otto replied simply. “I want to buy a gold ring, for me.”
“Let me see your hand,” the jeweller said and took Otto’s massive left paw in his own. “For a ring is no problem. It must be tight enough to stay on but not so tight you can’t take it off. Here try this one.”
“Too tight,” Otto told him.
He was fitted at the next attempt and gazed down complacently at the thick gold band.
“What is your name, sir?
“Otto Longius.”
“I’ll have it inscribed O and L on the inside, no extra charge.”
Lucius showed him the marble finger. “Can you put a mounting on this so it can be worn around the neck on a thong?”
“When did you take that, Boxer?” Otto asked.
“When you weren’t looking.”
“What is it? Religious?” the jeweller asked with a hint of distaste.
“No,” Otto told him,” it’s just a beautiful thing, look at the tiny details and the nail. It is a wonder.”
“Come back tomorrow. We’ll settle up when everything’s finished.”
“How do you know we’ll pay up?” Lucius laughed.
“Look at your friend. This little piece of stone is a treasure worth more to him than anything else in my shop. He trusts me with it tonight so I trust him. About you, I’m not so sure.”
At eight-thirty Cassius escorted Otto into the officers’ mess. He was self-consciously wearing the formal tunic of his new rank for the first time. The guests thumped rhythmically on the long wooden table with their dagger hilts as he was led to the place of honour. The table had been laid with plates and trenchers of bread. Wine flasks and cups were ready and waiting. But before he could sit down, Cassius clapped his hands. The doors to the kitchen were flung back and six stewards marched in, carrying an enormous tray on their shoulders. They processed once around the cheering table. On the tray was a full-grown sow, roasted and glazed, supported on a rack. Space was made so the stewards could put their burden down in the middle. A sword as pushed into Otto’s hand.
“Go and slice its belly, open,” Cassius instructed.
“Trojan Pig! Trojan Pig!” everyone chanted.
The bemused Otto took a firm grip on the sword and made a long cut beneath the sow’s flank. Once the crisp
skin had been sliced through, it burst open; coils of steaming sausage, slithered out like entrails followed by roasted vegetables and birds. Otto was astonished then his face clouded over as the sight recalled Quadratus’ disembowelled horse screaming as its rider was thrown.
“Enough sausage for you?” Lucius shouted.
That brought Otto back to the present. He forced a smile and waved his sword in acknowledgement. The serious business of feasting began. At ten-thirty, Otto requested that the substantial remains of the Trojan Pig be sent over to the men’s canteen, which was greeted by more cheers. Desserts and cheeses took its place and the serious drinking began.
The next morning, Otto lounged beside Cassius in the hot room of the bathhouse. He had felt better. Cassius seemed as fresh as if he had gone to bed early the night before after a frugal supper washed down with fruit juice.
“Remind me to return what’s left of your money, old thing,” Cassius said.
“Didn’t you spend it all?”
“Actually no, not a lot.”
“You did pay properly?” Otto accused.
Cassius sighed. “This is the Praetorian Barracks; we have a staff of excellent cooks and a well-stocked kitchen. Most of us would all have been dining in the mess last night, feast or no feast so all you’ve had to pay for is the pig, more sausages and extra wine. So, please don’t expose me to your conscience yet again; the world will still be unjust. Because you’re now a knight, you get a seat in the front row at the circus; is that fair on the paying public? Anyway, look at poor old Boxer.”
He was lying flat on the bench with his mouth open, dead to the world.
“People who fall asleep in the hot room don’t always wake up. Come on.…”
They half-carried Lucius, who was complaining about his headache. Cassius tipped him into the cold plunge. He went right under and came up thrashing and shouting vile threats. He was a different man after drinking several cups of cold water and a massage.
As the jeweller had predicted, they did return to his shop. The end of the marble finger was covered by a gold dome from which a ring projected. Otto turned it over in his hands.
“It’s perfect, such skill, thank you. Now we must pay.”
Lucius handed over the price demanded without haggling; a thing outside of the jeweller’s experience. Otto insisted on buying gifts for Lucius’ family.
“Something for the sister, mother and grandmother of my friend,” he said.
“Is the sister married?”
“No.”
“Is the grandmother a widow?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, I’ve got just the thing for each of them. And I’ll throw in presentation boxes, can’t say fairer than that.”
The next morning, they left Rome. Cassius Plancus was a little depressed to see them go.
As he told his parents, “They were originals, the pair of them. They achieved more with their simple decency than most courtiers will ever do, no matter how they deviously they plot and plan. Ah, well, good luck to you Otto and Boxer.”
Their welcome in Luca was ecstatic; not least because it was unexpected. The family had not known of their summons to Rome. Otto gave his presents to the ladies, repeating in his own words the jeweller’s comments as they opened the small boxes.
“As you are unmarried, Poppaea, moonstones are a symbol of your purity,” he told her, blushing scarlet as she held up the pendant earrings he had bought for her. Sabina had a delicate bracelet studded with cornelians, “To bring colour to the lady of the house.” Finally, Aelia had a necklace with a large amber pendant. “To warm your heart, most noble lady Aelia,”.
“And I have a gift for you, father,” Lucius said and handed him the letter exonerating their family, signed and sealed by the Emperor.
Vitius took it and read it. “You will excuse me,” he said and walked into his study. He returned half an hour later, his eyes red with the tears of joy he had been ashamed to shed in front of his family. “What honour the Emperor does us. But how did this come about?”
When Lucius explained, it was Aelia’s turn to weep.
“What a man your father was to bear the burden of that catastrophe and tell no-one, not even me,” she said.
“But surely, he should have explained, you were his wife after all…” Sabina suggested.
Aelia shook her head. “You know nothing of those times. A wrong word carelessly spoken could result in far worse than exile to a modestly prosperous life in a pleasant city. His silence protected me and your husband when he was a little boy.”
For most of the two days of their stay, they ate, slept and talked; going over every detail of their time in Rome. The last afternoon was spent in discussing what Otto should do with his new wealth.
“Noble, sir,” Otto told Vitius, “I know nothing of buying an estate nor how to run one. Will you act for me?”
“This is a grave responsibility, Otto but I will guide you as best I can.”
They went into every last detail of what was practical, Vitius making notes. Finally, Pinerus was called in to write out three copies of a simple contract dictated by Vitius.
“The Equestrian Otto Longius appoints Vitius Lucius Longius to act as his agent in obtaining a land holding on his behalf. Vitius Lucius Longius will give Otto Longius the fullest description of the proposed estate before the purchase becomes legally binding. Otto Longius entrusts the sum of one hundred and four thousand denarii to Vitius Lucius Longius to be expended solely on said purchase. If an acceptable property is available at a lower price, the balance of the one hundred and four thousand denarii reverts to the account of Otto Longius. No commissions will be charged.”
Both signed each document and Pinerus, as a freed man witnessed the agreement.
“I shall deposit your draft in the public bank tomorrow and leave a copy of our contract at the temple of Ceres; She will approve and bless this business.”
Otto had some time alone with Aelia. She came into his room in the early evening, graceful as ever.
“Well, sir, you are enrolled in the Order of Equites and a great man now,” she began with a smile.
“Oh, my lady Aelia, how can you call me “sir”? You taught me to read and opened a wider world to me. I owe you more than I can repay.”
“But you had the intelligence and desire to take the opportunity I offered. The credit is yours, my dear Otto. What next for you, I wonder?”
“Owning land I suppose but it troubles me and that is your fault.”
“Why is that?”
“To work it, I must have slaves. I think of Zeno’s words and I do not want to “look down into the pit”.
She sighed. “Philosophers describe the world and people as they should be but we have to live with things as they are. Be aware of how we should all ideally behave and act justly. That is all you can do.”
Otto smiled. “Always so wise, my lady.”
“I do not think so,” she replied.
“That is because Romans do not value women’s intelligence, especially older and experienced women. My people listen to and appreciate them.”
“Your people Otto?” Aelia queried. “Are you not a Roman now? Read widely, think deeply and perhaps you will be able to answer that question in time.”
Day after day they rode north, first along paved roads and then over dusty tracks. They did not cover the ground at the furious rate they had ridden on their way to Rome but neither did they dawdle. They trotted through the gate of their legion camp in the last week of August.
Standing to attention in front of their legate’s desk, Otto handed over the documents he had received from the hands of the Emperor. Quadratus read them with increasing delight breaking out over his usually austere face. He stood up and shook hands with Otto.
“I welcome you as one of my officers with all my heart. Our Emperor has been gracious to you but no more than you deserve. Boxer, did the audience with Augustus go well for you?”
“Beyond my g
reatest hopes, sir. Tribune Fuscus used his connections in Rome to discover that my family were never directly allied to Marcus Antonius. The Emperor accepted that he had been misinformed and issued this letter to me. Only a copy sir, my father has the original, but it is to be made public in Rome.”
Quadratus read it and looked at Lucius with a shrewd expression.
“This letter changes everything for you, Boxer; perhaps as great a prize as our Otto has won. It seems we have much to digest and discuss. For now, go bathe and refresh yourselves. Officers’ conference in three hours.” As they turned to leave, he called after them. “Otto, if you have a striped tunic wear it; let the men see your new status.”
At the appointed time, Otto and Lucius marched up the Via Praetoria and stopped dead when they saw the legate standing outside the Praetorium beside Titus Attius and an aquilifer holding aloft the legion eagle.
“Otto Longius,” Titus called out, loud enough for half the camp to hear him, “I call on you to take the sacred military oath under the eagle and in the presence of your legate. Stand forward and swear before the gods.”
Once the oath was administered, Attius handed Otto his identification disc inscribed with his name and legion number.
Quadratus lead them inside the office. The clerks had been told to go elsewhere and a table had been set with the best food the legion could come up with at short notice and flagons of the legate’s own wine.
“Otto, you have frequently stood by the door listening to discussions when you had no business to be in the room. Now I invite you to sit at table with your brother officers as is your right.
Tertius Fuscus, Aldermar, Rufus Soranus and Cestus Valens, for once in a spotless uniform, were already seated. They raised their wine cups and said “Hear! Hear!” in unison.
“Firstly, let us get our business out of the way,” Quadratus began. “Otto is appointed a decurion of cavalry by our Emperor himself. He holds that rank as of the minute he took his soldier’s oath under the eagle. The pay is fifteen hundred denarii per annum less deductions. However,” he paused, “although far be it from me to deny the will of the Emperor, there has to be a process of training and induction to be supervised by Prefect Aldermar before the new decurion is ready for command. Otto, is that acceptable to you?”
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