*
The following morning Gallus arrived at Sabinus’s home, followed by a retinue of freedman, slaves, bodyguards, and other hangers-on. To Gallus’s consternation, only he was admitted to Sabinus’s home. The rest were summarily commanded to wait outside the front gate.
As I listened through the parchment-thin walls of an adjoining room, Sabinus confronted Gallus. Gripping the handle of my dagger, I waited eagerly for the senator to put Gallus into his place.
“Remain standing, young Anicius Pedius Gallus,” Sabinus said in a firm voice. “This won’t take long.”
I heard the shuffling of sandals on the mosaic floor. “As you wish, sir. Why did you send for me?”
A hand or fist slammed down upon the desk, echoing through the house. “I will ask the questions,” Sabinus said. His cushion squeaked as he readjusted himself in his chair. “I hear you’re making Senator Vitellius a substantial loan.”
“With all due respect, Senator Titus Flavius Sabinus, I consider financial affairs a private matter.” Gallus scraped his shoes on the floor.
“So do I, when a loan is involved. However, I consider replacing the dowry of Vitellius’s wife an outrageous bribe.”
A gasp escaped Gallus’s mouth. “What in Mars are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about—influence-peddling, anything else you want to call buying favors,” Sabinus answered coolly.
A pause. I wondered why neither spoke. Finally, Gallus said, “Senator Sabinus, your accusations are very serious. Do you have proof?”
Sabinus pounded the desk again. “Enough to see that you are never readmitted to the Senate, and your family name struck from the Senate list forever.”
I nodded as if in their presence. Good.
“I have committed no crime,” Gallus answered in a surly tone. “I am helping a man made a pauper by his scorned wife. After all, he isn’t the first distinguished senator left without means in Rome.”
I wanted to laugh. Gallus didn’t have a charitable bone in his body.
“And he won’t be the last,” Sabinus said. “However, you can explain your reasoning before the Senate, where I plan to bring you and Senator Vitellius to trial.”
My breath caught in my throat. This last remark took me by surprise. Would Sabinus follow through with his threat?
Gallus scraped his feet again and cleared his throat. “That isn’t necessary, Senator Sabinus. I shall inform Senator Vitellius I have reconsidered the matter and must deny his request for a loan.”
“A wise decision.”
“Then you will drop the charges?”
“If you follow through on your promise,” Sabinus growled.
“I will, but what about Senator Vitellius? He can ask others for a loan.”
“I shall deal with him. He’ll see the virtue in staying with his wife. He couldn’t afford the outrageous interest rates charged by the money lenders, in any case.”
“What is to become of the barbarian princess?”
“Does it matter?”
A pause. “No.”
“Since her well-being is my concern, I’ll see she marries the proper person. Unlike you, it will be someone who considers her the civilized woman she is. Now leave me.”
I heard the squeaking of shoe leather, and then shoes stomping as Gallus left the library and stormed out of the house.
*
Later, Sabinus told me of his confrontation with Vitellius. The bejowled senator understood the implications of his association with Gallus and backed away. He told Sabinus he couldn’t afford to lose his status as Caesar’s friend because of his involvement with the son of a senator who had conspired to kill the emperor.
Sabinus had bluffed Gallus and Vitellius. “Had I brought charges against the two in the Senate,” he explained, “more than likely, I would have lost the case because of Vitellius’s influence. I depended on his dislike of public scandal to force him to capitulate.
“The so-called proof of Gallus’s bribing Vitellius,” he added, “turned out to be no more than rumors. However, I was certain they were true, and willing to stake my reputation and gamble with a bluff. Thank the lucky twins, Castor and Pollux, it worked.”
Within days, I received word Gallus seethed upon discovering he had been tricked. I knew he would quietly mark his time until another opportunity arose to regain his influence.
*
Early Monday morning, a couple of days later, Sabinus’s entourage of freedmen, slaves, as well as Crispus and myself, milled about the Imperial palace’s cavernous audience room. Other groups of noblemen and their retinues were also present. A cool breeze swirled in through the open windows high in the walls, mixing with the murmur of voices in low conversations. I shuddered as a chill ran through my body and wrapped my cloak about the shoulders. As we waited for the emperor to appear, balding, triple-chin Vitellius, wearing a white toga trimmed with a broad, purple edge, approached our little group.
“Watch this,” Sabinus whispered to me.
“I have the most terrible news, my dear Sabinus,” Vitellius said in a distressed voice that echoed through the yawning chamber. The little clusters of noblemen and lesser people, scattered about the great room, halted their conversations, their ears in our direction.
“What’s the trouble, my friend? You look as if you’ve seen the face of Medusa,” Sabinus said.
Vitellius’s jowls shook like gelatinous grease as he flung his hands up in disgust. “You must be talking about my wife, the miserable cow. No, unfortunately, I can’t marry your lovely barbarian.”
“Why, you must be devastated,” Sabinus said in feigned sympathy. “What happened to your plans?”
Vitellius wiped his sweaty forehead with a silk cloth that had been handed to him by one of his nearby slaves. He tossed it back to the servant. “My wife refuses to give me a divorce.”
“A mere inconvenience,” Sabinus answered with a flick of the hand. “You don’t need her permission.”
“That’s not the reason,” he replied, placing his plump fingers on Sabinus’s forearm. “It’s a matter of finances.”
“You’re a wealthy man.”
Vitellius cast his eyes on the polished floor and sighed. “The fortune, all that wonderful gold and those precious gems, belongs to my wife. It was her dowry. If I divorce her, I must return every last quadran. I’ll be ruined.”
“What a shame. You’re a good man, Lucius Vitellius. I can’t wish ruin on one of my best friends.”
“You’re most kind, Flavius Sabinus.” The fat senator shrugged. “Oh well, perhaps it’s for the best. After all, she is a foreigner,” he added with a sneer as he glanced in my direction, “and belongs with aliens.”
*
Upon leaving the palace, Sabinus’s entourage strolled through the crowds in the noisy Forum. Jostling our way past the trading booths bordering the Portico of Gaius and Lucius, Sabinus acknowledged Vitellius had to publicly place the blame on his wife for refusing the divorce. He had to distance himself from any admission to debts and to Gallus. However, as a concession for refusing the divorce, Lollia Appolonia agreed he could buy the most beautiful slave woman in Rome to become his mistress.
“Your proposal to Eleyne was very timely,” Sabinus said to me as I strolled beside him. Crispus followed behind us. “Because of her father’s death, I didn’t expect you to ask for my permission so soon.”
“I thank the twins I didn’t wait,” I said, thinking of her with Vitellius. I nearly choked.
“You had the vision of a Chaldean astrologer.”
“Won’t there be talk among the nobility of her marrying a centurion?”
“Of course. But they’ll keep their traps shut if you’re a knight.”
The impact of a missile from a ballista could not have been greater than Sabinus’s announcement. I stopped in my tracks and stared at Sabinus. Crispus pushed into my back, and I momentarily staggered before regaining my balance. I looked about as the crowd mov
ed around us. Despite the shouts of a hawking bronze-wear dealer in my ears, no one paid us any attention. What I coveted for so long would become a reality and a fulfillment of my parents’ dreams. A knighthood meant promotion to the higher ranks within the army, and even the rank of legion commander would no longer be out of the question. Gallus’s position was too weak to interfere with my elevation to this illustrious order. To his consternation and by the time he gained power, my position as knight would be secured.
“I’m deeply honored,” I finally stammered, “I had no idea—”
“You deserve it, Marcellus,” Sabinus said, as we moved away from the boisterous trader.
Crispus, who came around to my side, nodded. “The senator is right, good friend.”
“You’ve proven your value,” Sabinus continued, “and your family has the qualifying income. A knight marrying a princess, barbarian or otherwise, is an honorable union, and received with great favor in Rome.”
“But how will you achieve this?” I asked. “After Gallus’s threats, I didn’t believe it was possible.”
“Gallus has influential friends but no real power, not yet,” Sabinus answered. “I, too, have influence. Much as I despise him, I have been cultivating a friendship with the emperor’s secretary, Narcissus. He is willing to assist us because he hated the Elder Gallus and has no love for his son.”
“No doubt a few pieces of gold wouldn’t hurt either,” I said.
Sabinus shrugged. “Unfortunately, with Narcissus, friendship carries a price. No matter, it shall be done.” For a second, his hand touched my shoulder. “As a loyal soldier and citizen of Rome, you deserve no less.”
I remained speechless, humbled by his compliment. Finally, I mumbled, “Thank you.”
“I agree with his lordship,” Crispus said.
I stared at Crispus and grinned. Turning about, I heard people shouting at us to move out of the way. Then Sabinus said, “Come on, let’s go to my home.”
Although I knew Sabinus’s compliment to be sincere, most Romans still considered Spaniards little more than barbarians. Even though we had been part of the empire for nearly two hundred years and most were Roman citizens, I doubted if the aristocracy cared one quadran if I married a British woman. At least, no good Roman blood would be diluted.
Returning home, Crispus and I followed Sabinus through the atrium to the library where we found Aurelia sitting behind the desk studying a wax tablet. She looked up into Sabinus’s eyes and smiled.
After the usual greetings, Sabinus asked his wife, “Where is Eleyne?”
“She’s in the garden playing her lyre, I suppose. Why do you ask?”
Sabinus grinned. “Perfect.” He held out his hand to Aurelia. “Please join us, my dear. Marcellus has something important to say to our young ward.”
“Does he now?” Aurelia gave me a knowing smile as she came around from behind the desk and took her husband’s hand in hers.
Sabinus motioned to Crispus and me to follow.
Sitting on a cushioned, marble bench, at the end of the short, graveled path, Eleyne, dressed in a long, pale tunic trimmed in gold, strummed her lyre and hummed a quiet tune. Nearby, an artificial brooklet, surrounded by a miniature forest of small pines and bushes, gurgled its way into a little pool containing tamed eels. A light breeze rustled through the foliage and caressed our faces. The peaceful setting nearly made one forget the noise of the city street just over the high wall from us.
As we approached, she peered in our direction, stopped her playing, and carefully placed the instrument on the bench beside her. She stood and studied us as if unsure why the four of us were there. For the space of a heartbeat, she turned to Candra, who leaned against the garden wall next to an old boxed tree.
Turning about, she bowed slightly to Sabinus and Aurelia. “Lord Sabinus and Lady Aurelia, good afternoon.” As an apparent afterthought she added quietly, “Marcellus.” She nodded to Crispus. “Begging your pardon, Lord, why are you all here? The last time you gathered like this, you brought me news of my father’s death. Do you bring more bad news?”
“On the contrary, my dear,” Aurelia answered. She nodded to me. “Marcellus?”
I stepped forward and admit I was a little nervous, my throat suddenly dry, tiny bumps raised on my arms and back. I licked my lips. After all this time, I didn’t think it would be so hard to say. “Eleyne . . . ,” I stammered, “Eleyne, Lord Sabinus has given us permission to marry.”
“He has?” she said with a squeal of delight. “You mean I don’t have to marry Senator Vitellius? Marcellus!” She flung her arms around my neck and hugged me.
Remembering our company, she released her hold and turned to Sabinus. “Thank you, Lord. I’m so grateful.” Words seemed to fail her as she quickly hugged Sabinus. He flushed red and laughed heartily. She fluttered to Aurelia, bouncing like the young girl she was. I was overjoyed with her happiness.
“Eleyne,” Aurelia said, “we are so pleased for you and Marcellus. At last you have found the joy you deserve.” She kissed Eleyne on the cheek.
Crispus came forward, gave me a big, toothy smile, and shook my hand. “Congratulations, old friend, you deserve the best.” Then he stood back.
“When do you wish to be married?” Sabinus asked.
“With your permission, sir, as soon as General Vespasian returns from Britannia,” I answered. “If I’m not being too presumptuous, I would be honored if he would attend the ceremony.” Sabinus had received reports that his younger brother, commander of the Second Augustan Legion had waged a successful campaign in southwest Britannia. He was being recalled by Emperor Claudius and would receive a ceremonial ovation upon his arrival in Rome.
“I’m sure arrangements can be made,” Sabinus said. “My brother is very political, but now that Eleyne no longer has value as a Roman hostage, he will want what is best for her.”
Eleyne’s body tightened, and she clung to me and placed her head against my chest.
I prayed that Gallus would do nothing to jeopardize our happiness.
Chapter 6: Late November, 46 AD
After a successful campaign in Britannia, Sabinus’s younger brother, General Vespasian, returned to Rome. The Emperor Claudius publicly thanked him in a ceremony on the steps of the Temple of Apollo. Then Claudius and Vespasian sacrificed fifty oxen at the altar of the brass god of healing and prophecy.
That evening, as guests of Sabinus and Aurelia, Eleyne and I attended a palace banquet given by Caesar in Vespasian’s honor. Basking in the smoky light of a thousand olive oil lamps and candles, the halls and great dining room overflowed with senators, knights, and wealthy citizens, as well as aliens and their guests chattering in a dozen languages. Tastefully arranged in multicolored displays, a legion of flowers and their perfumed scents gave the monumental room an aromatic garden atmosphere.
At their beck and call, Imperial slaves and personal attendants waited on guests, serving wine, sweetmeats, honey cakes, and other delicacies. Before reclining on thickly cushioned couches forming a three-sided square, servants removed our sandals and washed our feet.
Upon the raised dais, the Emperor Claudius and his cat-eye empress, Messalina, nearly thirty years his junior, feasted with their honored guests, General Vespasian, his wife, and intimate guests. Eleyne and I dined with Sabinus and Aurelia on the main floor across from the emperor, with Vitellius and his equally obese wife, Lollia Appolonia. Together, they severely punished a couch, adequate for three people. It visibly sagged. Vitellius’s new mistress, a tall, stately German girl from the Marcommani Tribe, eagerly awaited to serve her master. The yellow-haired beauty stood behind his couch while many of the male guests shamelessly leered at her.
Close by, Candra, his arms folded across his tunic, kept watch over Eleyne.
Gallus, wearing a brocaded silk, white toga, had been invited to the feast by one of his father’s old senator friends, Lucius Camillus.
I motioned to Sabinus, as Gallus and the senator engaged in a co
nversation. “Why did Senator Camillus bring Gallus to the feast, sir? He’s asking for political disaster.”
“Camillus slipped Narcissus a substantial sum of gold to place a favorable word on Gallus’s behalf with the emperor.”
“Obviously it worked,” I whispered. “But I thought he loathed Gallus as much as his father?”
“Unfortunately, Narcissus’s greed is insatiable. Money always speaks first,” Sabinus said in a grave voice.
Two attractive young ladies known for their amorous adventures reclined with their elderly senator husbands on a nearby couch. They gave Gallus inviting glances, but he paid no attention. Leaning against a pink striated pillar, one of Gallus’s young, pretty male attendants eyed the women jealously.
Gallus caught sight of Eleyne and stared at her for a few seconds. Acting as if I didn’t exist, he smiled and nodded before turning to Senator Camillus. His eyes kept returning to her.
“Marcellus, why does Gallus keep staring at me like that?” Eleyne asked.
“I would like to think it’s because he has good taste,” I answered. Girdled around the waist with a yellow palla, Eleyne’s long, sleeveless, green tunic contrasted with the pale, red ocher lightly daubed on her white cheeks and lips. Little, golden duck earrings dangled from her small lobes, and a gilded necklace of deep-red garnets encircled her neck. Combed into a Celtic-style single braid, her jet-black hair dropped to the middle of her back. A small, jewel-encrusted, silver tiara crowned her lovely head.
I wore a new linen toga with a narrow, purple stripe running down the middle, denoting the rank of knight. Two weeks before, I had been elevated to the Equestrian Order by the emperor. Adorning my right hand was the coveted golden ring marking my new status. Although proud, I made it a point to show humility, avoiding the role of a boorish snob. But from the moment Sabinus announced my promotion to his friends and clients, people seemed to treat me with greater respect. Thank the gods Crispus regarded me no differently—I valued his friendship too much for anything to change between us.
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