“What if Trajan personally intervenes?”
“Not likely, given his deference to the Senate. He could, and then I think they might back down. But I don’t think he will. The best way out of this mess is to lie. Paint Emperor He as a scheming devil, a barbarian.”
“No, I will not. I am going to tell it exactly as it happened, and if the truth is not good enough, then so be it.”
Back in Neapolis, Gaius turned the cart into the path circling a plane tree in the front yard, reined the horses up into a stamping halt, blowing noisily. He was assisting Marcia out of the cart when Camilla and the two children burst forth. She practically knocked him down with her embrace, to the great amusement of Antonius and Marcia. Several house stewards came out to take care of the cart and horses.
When Gaius and Camilla finally completed their first kiss in many years, he then embraced his children, Gaius Secundus, now a gangly teenager, and Lucia Camilliana, a shy twelve year old with budding breasts. “You two have grown so much!” he said, “And I missed you so much. I have so many adventures to tell you. Look, these two are my friends, Antonius my centurion and his wife Marcia Lucia, like a new uncle and aunt to you.” The children shook hands with each and made a polite bow.
Gaius’ little villa was home to both Camilla and her mother Servilia, who stayed with her during Gaius’ prolonged absences. Servilia came out in gardening clothes and an apron, a spry, graying woman of about sixty. She introduced herself to everyone with a firm handshake. “Thank you for getting my wayward son-in-law home and back to his wife, at least for a few months. Then he’ll most likely be dashing off again for some new adventure somewhere. Pardon my hands, I was tending my garden. The servants think I am doing their work for them, but I like tending my vegetables and flowers myself. Keeps me young.”
The villa was actually a small farm on the outskirts of Neapolis, with a good view of the ominous Vesuvius across the valley. There had been some damage thirty years ago from the massive eruption, long ago repaired, and the ash left the land fertile, though Gaius had reservations about living within sight of the monster volcano that had killed his family. They adjourned to the atrium inside the house, sitting beside a small fountain and a number of well-tended plants. Servants brought drinks and snacks, while everyone caught up on events near and far.
That night, after a dinner spent mostly discussing the wilds of Further Asia, the Bactrian mountains, and camels, everyone retired for the night. Behind closed doors, Gaius took Camilla in his arms. “I am so sorry, cara mea, so sorry.” He kissed her tenderly.
“For what?” she looked concerned in the candlelight, as though he was about to reveal some devastating secret.
“For never being here when you need me.”
She laughed, relieved. “You have never not been here for me, Gaius, and you never will not be here. I keep you in my heart always.” She laced her arms around his neck, drawing him to her for a long-overdue reunion.
A few weeks later, Gaius, Antonius, and their wives returned to Rome to Aulus’ house on the Aventine Hill, opposite the massive imperial palace on the Palatine Hill overlooking the Circus Maximus. They were to help prepare Aulus for his presentation to the Senate, and to observe that presentation from the imperial dais as Trajan’s guests.
Aulus was skeptical of his reception by his fellow senators, but was surprisingly nonplused at the possibility that it could be a disaster. His colleague Titus Flavius assisted, patiently hearing each version of Aulus’s speech in the atrium while everyone else looked on. He contented himself with critiques of its form and style, having long ago given up trying to alter its content.
In the off-moments, the women went shopping in the city, Livia providing maidservants to carry parcels, and a grim-looking ex-gladiator named Rufus as bodyguard. Marcia was overwhelmed with the cosmopolitan markets, hearing a babble of languages from around the world, some of which she understood. It was with a great deal of surprise that she encountered an Hanaean merchant with a long trailing mustache dealing directly with some silk merchants. He was speaking a Shaanxi dialect of han-yu through an ineffective translator.
Marcia stepped in to introduce herself, to the great amazement of the Hanaean gentleman, whose eyes brightened at her fluent Gansu. They exchanged pleasantries momentarily, him complimenting her on her unusual blue eyes, she inquiring of events near her home. The decimation of the Black Headband gang was still big news in Shaanxi, and he knew their old friend Xian Bohai, ‘a delightful smuggler,’ which caused them both to laugh. She took over the Latin translation with the silk merchant, displacing the man’s former translator, a Parthian with but a smattering of both Latin and han-yu. Marcia helped the man close a good deal for the silk, assisted him in the calculation of currencies, and closed with his promising to look up her brother when he passed through Liqian on the way back, and also to give her regards to the Xian family.
Camilla and Livia looked on in amazement through the rapid-fire linguistic interchange.
“Amazing!” said Camilla. “Yes, of course, you were a translator.”
“I was many things, Camilla.” She just smiled, and returned to admiring the sights of the city, the hustle and bustle of the crowds, the rumble of the carts, the smells of charcoal and cooking foods at the various caupona food stands, the reek of beer, stale wine and urine from the taberna. She had, of course, been to Rome six years ago with Gan Ying, but then she had been forbidden to interact with any of the people, or to even go out alone. But that was so long ago.
On the day of the presentation, they met in the atrium of the Aulus house, newly-minted civilian Antonius resplendent in his new toga, the thin purple stripe on his white linen tunic denoting his new equestrian social status. Gaius was dressed in his best parade field equipment, leather polished to a glossy shine, brass gleaming mirror-like. Marcia wore her fine stola from Bagram, with red ribbons criss-crossing the front as a girdle and an orange silk wrap. Camilla wore yellow silk, and Livia a dark green that favorably complemented her red hair and green eyes. They left on two litters borne by burly black Nubians via the Vicus Longus, the Long Avenue, alongside the eastern end of the half-mile long race track of the Circus Maximus. They turned left on the Clivus Scauri, lined with meticulously manicured slender black pines spaced exactly a hundred feet apart like a botanical colonnade to ascend to the eastern entrance of the Flavian Palace on the Palatine Hill. If the golden-domed Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus on the Capitoline Hill across the Forum Romanum was the home of the gods in heaven, the Flavian Palace was the home of the gods of the earth in its magnificence.
The bearers lowered the litters by the entrance to the Basilica on the north side, and they were challenged by a spotlessly-clad Praetorian Guardsman. Gaius introduced himself and the members of his party, and quietly stated they had a meeting with Princeps at the third hour of the morning. The soldier checked his list, then summoned an escort who led them in to the enormous Aula Regia Royal Hall, a massive interior colonnaded hall sixty feet high, made entirely of marble. Fading off into the distance, men in togas and servants in tunics went about their business, the occasional footfall or raised voice echoing in the colonnaded space. The escort led them to a waiting room off to the side to await the Emperor.
Gaius carefully placed his bronze helmet, with its newly-mounted red horse hair plume, on a table to avoid the least smudge on its glistening polish. Antonius looked at it admiringly, waiting for the Princeps to arrive. “Well, legatus, yer lookin’ rather fine but fer that old-fashioned helmet of yours. How in the hell did yer keep that all the way from Luoyang?”
“The only thing I did keep,” Gaius smiled, ruffling its red plume. “I would be damned if I was going to leave Commodus’ gift buried on the side of an Hanaean road somewhere! Everything else was replaceable, but not this. I wrapped it up and buried it in whatever wagon we were using to carry baggage. I just never mentioned it.”
“It’s a fine piece, and still takes a great shine. I’m glad yer was a
ble ter keep it”
In the distance a mechanical waterclock began to bong out three prolonged sonorous chimes, echoing hollowly in the vast chamber. At that instant Trajan entered, accompanied by a tall slender woman, her hair done up in an elegant crest, followed by two very senior Praetorian Guardsmen. Trajan was clad in military garb, though the metalwork was white enamel and the leather breastpiece the color of cream. The white helmet, held under his left arm, had a purple plume, and the cloak was also imperial purple with white and gold tracery on the hems. He went straight to Gaius Lucullus and grasped him firmly by the hand in a military handshake, as though he were his commander rather than the emperor of all Rome. “Gaius Lucullus! So glad to see you! I hear you have accepted your posting to my new legion. The Senate did me the honor of naming it after me.”
This was the first word that Gaius had that his posting to II Trai had been confirmed. “Yes, sir, Your Excellency! I look forward to doing honor to your name.”
“Very well, then. Please introduce me to your friends.”
“Sir, this is my former primus pilus of the XII Ful, Antonius Aristides, and his beautiful wife Marcia Lucia, to whom you affirmed citizenship five years ago on her original Hanaean mission. Livia Luculla, my cousin and Senator Aulus Aemilius’s wife, and my wife Camilla.”
Trajan greeted each one in turn, also introducing his wife, the Augusta Pompeia Plotina, with a comfortable familiarity, despite being one of the most powerful men in the world. He seemed to be a source of tightly-disciplined energy, so characteristic of professional military men. To Marcia, he asked with a smile, “You have a beautiful name, the same as my mother’s! Are you the young lady that fought off hordes of Amazon warriors among the barbarians?”
“Your Excellency, not everything you read on the Acta Dialis is true. I did know one warrior woman among the Xiongnu who taught me many things. We became as sisters.”
“That must be a remarkable story, Marcia, of which I want to hear more, after Senator Gaius Aemilius’ presentation. I have chosen to walk to the Senate Curia to give the public a chance to see you all. Despite the Acta Dialis, or maybe because of it, you are the heroes of Rome today!” He had a big, booming laugh that was pleasant to hear.
A few moments later, another guardsman entered, saluted with his hand across his chest in a solid thump, and announced: “Your Excellency, your lictors are ready.”
They exited the anteroom into the main floor. Formed up were twelve lictors in two rows, carrying the bound axehandle fasces, the symbol of magisterial power and strength through unity since the founding of the Republic half a millenia ago. Trajan adhered to the Republican prohibition against mounting the axes themselves within the City walls. The ax heads were the symbol of imperium, the power of life and death; not all his predecessors had obeyed this prohibition, symbolically or in fact. Behind the lictors was a squad of Guardsmen in parade regalia, led by the imagifer carrying an image of Trajan on a tall pole surmounted by the Roman eagle and emblazoned with SPQR, Senatus Populusque Romanum, the Senate and the Roman People, the symbol of Roman power since time immemorial. Two Guardsmen carried circular horns around their shoulders, and behind them two more carried drums; the remainder provided security for the emperor.
Trajan led his guests into the midst of the two columns, Gaius on his right and Antonius his left, the women behind, the ranks at the rear closing around them. At a word from the imagifer, the Guardsmen began to march, exiting the west side of the Flavian palace. The trumpeters gave a blast on their horns, the drummers began a rippling cadence, and the emperor and his entourage began the descent down the Sacra Via through the Forum. Crowds began to gather amid chants of “Trajan! Trajan!” He waved over the heads of his Guardsmen at the crowd, telling the nearer people that he was accompanied by the Hanaean party of Senator Aulus Aemilius Galba. As this word spread, the chant changed to “Trajan and the New Jason and his Argonauts!” until by the time they reached the steps leading up to the Curia at the foot of the Capitoline Hill, over ten thousand people had crowded into the Forum, their cheers thunderous.
Aulus had departed his house on foot with Titus Flavius Petronius, to be seated in the curia well before the third hour when Trajan was to depart the palace. Trajan drew huge crowds for his public appearances, and if the senators were caught in the Forum, the Princeps might arrive in the Senate before them. They walked in silence, the portly Petronius wheezing slightly at Aulus’s brisk pace. When they reached the steps, the last of the senators were entering when the sound of trumpets brayed from the palace, signaling Trajan’s imminent arrival. Like the surf on a beach, the soft susurrations of the people on the Via Sacra began to rise as they gathered to greet the popular Princeps. Then, almost like a triumphal procession, the murmur rose to a roar. The two senators could hear the chants, “Ave, Trajan and Jason! Trajan and Jason, Io Triomphe!” Aulus smiled, Jason being the Greek explorer and his Argonauts who had charted the Black Sea a millennia ago in search of the Golden Fleece.
“Whatever, the Senate thinks of you, the crowd approves of what you did,” said Titus.
“They may, Titus Flavius, but in the end it will be what the Senate thinks that matters.”
Gaius and Titus crossed the elegant marbled floor to take their seats in the middle row on the left side of tiered benches. Aulus looked at the marble statue of Victory at the end of the hall, vividly painted with windblown brown hair, piercing blue eyes, an upraised silver sword in one hand, an olive branch in the other. Wish me luck, Lady Victory. Only you can help me now!
The other senators greeted him, some curtly, some with a bit of warmth. “Welcome back, Aulus Aemilius. You have been missed these past several years.” That was the warmest greeting he got, and it came from the bloated Lucian Septimius Pontus, his most ardent foe.
“It is good to be back, Lucian Septimius,” Aulus answered simply. He just could not bring himself to fear these overweight pigs of men. Instead he was amused by their pretentions, not regretting having shed his own somewhere in the wilds of Asia. These men were not the senators of old, they were parasites.
Trajan, with Gaius Lucullus and Antonius, strode in with military precision, followed by their wives and Aulus’s Livia. The Senate rose respectfully as they crossed the floor to the dais in front of the Statue of Victory. Livia caught his eye as she seated herself behind the men with Marcia and Camilla. She had never been in the curia before.
Trajan turned to address the Senate, his powerful parade ground voice echoing through the curia. “Be seated, please! Thank you all for assembling at my request on this exceptionally warm day in October, to hear the report of Senator Aulus Aemilius Galba on his mission to Hanaean lands, and many other interesting lands and kingdoms.
“We are in the company of three ladies, and I wish to explain their unusual presence here today. Marcia Lucia is a member of this mission, and a veteran of the previous mission by the Hanaeans here five years ago. Her citizenship, and those of their other translators, was affirmed before this body as descendants of the lost cohorts of Carrhae. She is Aulus Aemilius’ translator and now the wife of Antonius Aristides. It did not seem fair to admit his wife, and exclude the beautiful wives of Senator Aulus Aemilius and Gaius Lucullus, the beautiful ladies Camilla Sempronia and Livia Luculla.
“And having thus trod upon our hallowed traditions,” he said with a slight smile, “it was impossible then to exclude my own wife, the Augusta Pompeia Plotina, though she eschews the title you so generously granted her three years ago.”
A quiet titter of respectful laughter spread through the Curia.
“Dominae, please rise and introduce yourselves to this esteemed body.” The three women rose, and bowed politely to both sides of the aisle, then seated themselves. “As Princeps Senatus, the First Man of the Senate, I wish to set the rules for this presentation, so this report can be completed in an orderly manner. Any Senator may interrupt Senator Aulus Aemilius for a question, but please raise your hand to be acknowledged by Senator Ae
milius Lepidus Scaurus, our senior Senator. After receiving your answer, you may ask one more question for clarification. After that, the floor returns to Senator Aulus Aemilius, or to another Senator recognized by Aemilius Lepidus.
“And now, the Princeps Senatus yields the floor to Senator Aulus Aemilius Galba.” Trajan seated himself on his ivory curile chair.
The Senator got up to go down to the center of the curia, to address the body from the floor. He stood silent for effect, and in the waiting silence, the muted noise from the huge crowd outside the building penetrated the hall. Then, in his best oratorical voice, he began his presentation, beginning with the Gan Ying report. “As you all know, five years ago, this body received Gan Ying’s mission, and it was his mission that launched my own in return. He provided their emperor, Emperor He, a report on our people. Marcia Lucia assisted in its presentation before Emperor He, but was not privy to its contents. However, through a combination of Parthian treachery and incompetence, we have come by the original report that was to be presented to the Hanaean emperor by Gan Ying, and I would like now to read it into the record.”
Aulus read Gan Ying’s report, noting that emperors were selected by merit, and discharged when things go wrong. “Not strictly true, as we all know, but this aptly describes the accession of Princeps Trajan, which had just taken place,” he said, interrupting himself for the aside. He continuing, noting that the Romans were “tall and honest,” with favorable descriptions of their cities, civilization and architecture, even putting them on a par with the Hanaeans. The report concluded that ‘The king of this country always wanted to send envoys to Han, but Parthia, wishing to control the trade in Chinese silks, blocked the route to prevent the Romans getting through to China.’ How far they went in blocking this route will shortly become clear!”
The Eagle and the Dragon, a Novel of Rome and China Page 72