The beautiful child shaded his eyes and went through a pantomime of looking earnestly about. Then he called, in a clear boyish treble: ‘Soldiers, did you fight for some other Emperor? Will you lead me to him? I would like to meet my rival.’
As one man we looked towards the little hillock in the rear, where Macrinus had been stationed before the enemy charged us. The hillock stood empty, save for the imperial battleflag, deserted and planted in the ground.
‘Soldiers,’ the boy continued, ‘you fought for nothing. Your leader ran away, leaving you to die so that he might have a longer start. But we’ll catch him all the same, if you help me. Will you?’
The cheering left no doubt of our answer.
‘Then you accept my orders?’ he went on, with astonishing self-possession for one of his years. ‘ Right … I command you to march back to your camp. Clean up the place, and get back as soon as possible to peacetime routine. By sunset you will be employed on your normal duties, the safeguarding of the Emperor’s person. I shall sleep tonight at imperial field headquarters.’
He had said exactly the right thing (and he must have composed the speech himself). He took it for granted that we would be loyal to him, and at the same time reminded us of our privilege. When he told us to ‘ clean up the place’ he gave us licence to kill unpopular officers, but when he added that he would be with us that evening he implied that the disorder must be quickly ended. He was the kind of Emperor we needed.
Centurions began to push us into formation, ready to march off; our senior officers, who were mounted, disappeared over the horizon at full gallop. Never mind, we could still plunder their baggage when we got back to camp. My century began to form on me as marker, and I felt sad that my brief moment of distinction was ended. But before I could disappear once more into the ranks the boy reined up beside me.
‘You were the first to make up your mind, I saw you,’ he said, bending down from his horse. ‘ Here, take this ring. Show it to the sentry when you come to imperial headquarters this evening. Come an hour after sunset. I want to have a chat with you, about war and politics and the army and the Republic in general. Don’t be shy. I expect you tonight. That’s an order.’
He must have seen, from one look at me, the kind of man I am. I don’t like to be prominent, because it’s dangerous. All my instincts, after long years of service, tell me to avoid senior officers and their headquarters. But orders are orders, especially when given by the Emperor in person. I fell in with my century and marched back to camp; then the acting Praefect himself told me I was excused duty for the rest of the day. He sealed a requisition on the stores, which entitled me to draw a complete new outfit for ‘an individual ceremonial parade in the presence of the Emperor’.
Some of my comrades advised me to go as I was, with a dented shield and the crest of my helmet shorn away. But a complete new outfit without stoppage of pay was a pleasant windfall, too good to be wasted, and I thought that perhaps a young boy who knew nothing of warfare might be more impressed by a spotless soldier under a tall plume of stiffened horsehair than by a battered veteran whose greaves stank of sweat. Besides, the notches in my sword and the dents in my shield had been acquired while I was killing his adherents. When I was ready, with a jug of wine inside me to give me courage and a lump of fresh pork on top of the wine to keep it from going to my head, everything I wore was in mint condition. I had even got hold of a ceremonial cuirass, the only one in the stores; for most of them had been left with the heavy baggage in Antioch.
The room into which I was shown had been the private chamber of the Emperor Macrinus (last reported galloping for Cilicia, ahead of a very small bodyguard). It was cosily furnished with couches and chairs; tall lamps burned perfumed oil; at one side a great unglazed window let in what coolness can be found in a Syrian June.
But my first impression was that the room was very hot and very crowded. There were many more people than I had expected, and among them a number of women; for that matter, the men also looked out of place in an armed camp, for they wore long epicene gowns of oriental pattern. These people sat or reclined at their ease, instead of standing like courtiers in the presence of their ruler; and at the far end of the room, where one would expect the imperial throne, was a little cabinet of carved wood surrounded by tall candles and smoking incense.
Then I picked out the Emperor, the only figure still in armour. He came forward, seized me by the hand, and prevented me when I tried to kneel. ‘ Now then, Duratius,’ he said gaily, ‘stand there in the middle and let us all take a look at you. I have been reading your record. You puzzled your commanding officers, and I want to know whether you will puzzle me? “ Recommended for promotion and consistently refused it; conduct exemplary, no ambition.” That’s how they summed you up. Some ancient philosophers would have been anxious to meet you.’
Once again I was struck by the superhuman beauty of this marvellous boy. He radiated happiness and well-being. Physically he was perfect; but a perfect miniature man, with nothing feminine about him. His broad shoulders and narrow hips set off his armour, and his legs never tangled with the sword on his thigh.
‘Well, what can I do for you?’ he went on cheerfully, squatting cross-legged on a little stool. ‘Tonight I am Emperor, and I can give you nearly anything you ask for. Not quite anything, because some posts are already filled. I have a very good Praetorian Praefect, and a first-class secretary of state. But would you like to be Praefect of Rome, or governor of a province, or even, since you seem to be keen on soldiering, legate in command of a legion? What shall it be? You have only to ask. They tell me the governor of Egypt does no work and draws a very fine salary.’
I had come prepared to be offered promotion, though not on this imperial scale; and I had made up my mind what I wanted.
‘I should like to be a centurion, employed,’ I answered in the clipped tone of a soldier on parade. Then, seeing him smile encouragement, I went on to give my reasons. ‘You see, my lord, I don’t want to be a great man. I don’t mind giving orders but I don’t like making enemies. Non-commissioned rank would suit me best. Everyone agrees that of the non-commissioned ranks an employed centurion has the best job in the army. No drilling in the rain, no getting your equipment dirty. But centurion in a legion would do, if you can’t find an employed post for me.’
The boy looked puzzled. Suddenly I understood that he did not know what I meant by ‘ employment’, though on the frontier a child of six would have heard all about it. A man lounging on a couch interposed: ‘My lord, he means that he wants a full-time appointment that will keep him off parade, an appointment that carries with it the rank of centurion. Shall I invent one for him, if you are willing to grant his request?’
‘Certainly,’ said the Emperor. ‘But it must be a job at court. I like this Duratius, and I want to see more of him.’
‘Very well, Centurion,’ said the stranger. ‘I am Eutychianus, the new Praetorian Praefect. You are appointed a supernumerary guard-commander, with special charge of the instructors who will teach military drill and fencing to our mighty Emperor. Move your kit to headquarters this evening. Later on we can go more fully into the scope of your duties.’
‘That’s splendid,’ said the boy, beaming. ‘ Now if you are to live with us at court you must get to know us all. This is the head of the family, my grandmother, the Augusta Maesa. Here is my mother, the lady Soaemias. She will be an Augusta presently, when I announce her promotion. The Praetorian Praefect has already introduced himself. Over there is master Gannys, who has taught me all I know. He will be my secretary of state. The rest are just family slaves or freedmen, very nice people but I need not introduce them separately.’
I was busy saluting all round, so as not to offend any of these powerful advisers. I saw a smile of encouragement on the face of the Augusta, and a grin of relief for a moment lightened the Emperor’s stately beauty. He was very young, and during this series of introductions he had been working hard to remember his manners.<
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The lady Soaemias spoke: ‘The Augusta is of course the head of our family. But I think, dear, you should also point out to this gallant soldier the divine protector who maintains our greatness.’
‘Of course I must. How could I have forgotten? Duratius, will you now worship Elagabalus, who has fostered our family for countless generations and today has given me the mastery of the world? You worship him by kissing the ground before his pedestal. There is no need for you to sacrifice. He and I arranged this morning that every man killed today would be devoted to him as a sacrifice.’
I knelt down to kiss the ground as directed. I was glad that I had been ordered to perform the rite in private, for such worship of a bit of black stone might be considered comical by the army at large. As I got up again I looked closely at the new guardian of the Republic. Elagabalus was perky and perhaps benignant, an erect phallus gleaming with perfumed oil; a wreath of fresh roses gave him a rakish air. As a god he would appeal to young boys, but I felt that Rome under his guardianship might be in for some surprising experiences.
‘Isn’t he a beauty?’ cooed the Emperor. ‘ He has done everything for my family; though of course Eutychianus and Gannys helped, and so did my soldiers. I want all my subjects to share the gratitude I feel to him. Do you think, Grandma, that it would please him if I were to rule in his name? Shall I call myself the Emperor High Priest of Elagabalus? Or would that sound odd in Rome?’
‘Not “Emperor High Priest”. That’s too much of a mouthful,’ the old lady answered with decision. ‘Why not just the Emperor Elagabalus? Then you and I and all your friends will know that the god rules through your agency, but the common people will suppose that you are just another Emperor – though of course wiser and better in every way than your predecessors.’
‘That’s it. Someone put it into writing. The god and I shall reign jointly, under the single name of the Emperor Elagabalus. Which of us has inspired any particular decree will be known only to the god and myself. The Emperor Elagabalus – the Romans will see nothing peculiar in the name.’
They would find it very odd indeed, I said to myself. We have been ruled by Emperors sprung from every province, Africans and Spaniards and Illyrians. There was nothing against a Syrian Emperor. But hitherto our rulers had at least borne Roman names. Yet this assembly of intelligent Syrians saw nothing strange in the name Elagabalus, since it was famous all over Syria.
I continued to stand about, because no one told me to sit or gave me permission to withdraw. It seemed to me that the Romans would be in for a good many surprises. They might think they were ruled by a young Syrian, until they found out that he was junior partner in a firm controlled by a black stone phallus; they would never find out, unless Eutychianus was mad enough to publish it, that the Emperor regarded his grandmother as head of the family (in Roman law she would be a minor, under the guardianship of her grandson). He seemed also inclined to take orders from his mother. I hoped this gang of foreigners, human and divine, would combine to make a tolerable Emperor. In any case, I had freely given my allegiance; my honour as a Gallic nobleman committed me to stand or fall with them.
Just then another handsome lady burst into the room.
‘Mother,’ she called, ‘ I hope I don’t interrupt anything important; but a deputation from the citizens of Antioch keep on offering me bags of gold if only I can get them a word with the Emperor.’
‘You can’t get them a word with the Emperor, Aunt Mamea,’ said the boy. ‘I am talking to a soldier. Any soldier is more important than a deputation of flabby civilians.’
‘That’s what you think, little Bassy. Your grandmother will be more prudent. Mother, this is really a very grand deputation. Besides the city council they have sent the leaders of the circus factions and the commander of the militia.’
Now I could place the newcomer; yet another of these managing females who would not be popular in Rome. But at least her nephew’s manner indicated that he did not regard her as another feminine head of the family.
‘We must deal with them at once,’ said Gannys, a flashy, soft, handsome man who wore too much jewellery. ‘Perhaps Mamea need not bring them in here. If we are to receive a solemn deputation we ought to stand in rank while only the Emperor sits. (Sit down, Bassy, and look dignified.) Go and find out what they want. When we have decided whether to grant their request we can have them brought in to hear our answer.’
His eyes sought agreement from the Augusta; but cursorily, as though he knew she would endorse any instructions he might give.
‘Yes, Mamea, find out what they want. And you, Bassy, do as your tutor tells you,’ answered the head of the family.
‘Very well, I shall sit down,’ said the boy, flouncing across the room. ‘But you must remember that in future I am to be addressed as Elagabalus. Anyone who calls me Bassianus will be guilty of disrespect, and “ Bassy” will be punished as the gravest form of high treason. Find out what these people want and don’t bother me. But send in the leaders of the circus factions. I should like a little chat about racing.’
‘The races can wait, Elagabalus Augustus,’ his grandmother answered with a quelling glance. ‘ The sun has not yet risen on your Empire, and unless you heed the advice of your natural guardians you may be over thrown before it does.’
‘Just as you say, Grandma. Business first if that is your advice. But I want to know how they train racehorses.’
Mamea went out and soon came back again.
‘They want to offer a ransom, to avert the sack of Antioch,’ she reported.
‘We can’t avert the sack,’ Eutychianus put in at once. ‘We might control the Syrians. But the legions, and above all the Praetorians, will consider Antioch fair prize of war. You don’t want your reign to begin with a mutiny.’
‘But Antioch must not be sacked,’ said our young ruler. ‘ If such a terrible crime is committed both the Sun-god and I myself will withdraw our protection from the Empire, and then where will you be? I liked the place when I saw it in the days of Daddy Caracalla, and I look forward to seeing it again. Even the soldiers must know that they will get more fun out of the splendid circus than from a heap of smoking ruins. Eutychianus, you understand soldiers. Think up one of your famous arrangements, so that the city is unharmed.’
‘I doubt I can arrange it,’ said the Praetorian Praefect thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps if the ransom were big enough.… But here is a Praetorian. What do you think, my man?’
‘Praetorians can be persuaded, sir. We are veterans, who have sacked many cities at one time or another. The spoil comes to very little when it is divided among a whole army. Besides, we also know Antioch and like it. Offer a good ransom, and see.’
‘If the Praetorians agree it will be easy. The legions will follow their lead. In that case we could manage a peaceful entry.’
‘How much?’ asked the Emperor suddenly, looking at me with a shrewdness that sat curiously on his boyish face.
‘Well, my lord … five hundred drachmae a man? That’s more than we would get from a sack.’
‘Splendid. Get it out of the deputation, Eutychianus. Antioch can find it, if they try hard enough. I don’t want bloodshed in my Empire. A good time for all will be the policy of my government. Duratius, take this blank tablet. Here is my seal at the bottom. Use it to get what you need from the paymaster, and be here in the morning when I ask for you. Until further notice you are posted to imperial headquarters. Sleep well, and enjoy yourself.’
As I walked back to my hut I thought that under our new ruler most of his subjects would enjoy themselves. What would really puzzle the Romans would be to find the seat of authority; the Emperor had so many unofficial colleagues.
6. Winter in Nicomedia
The Emperor was genuinely anxious to learn the squad-drill and sword exercises which are part of the elementary education of every Roman youth. As a child in the imperial household he had made a beginning, but the two years at Emesa had interrupted his studies. There the priests
of the sky-stone had taught him their ritual; they had also taught him to read easily in Greek, Latin and Aramaic. He knew many queer legends about the beginning of the world and the odd family life of oriental divinities. But he had forgotten the words of command which every little Roman picks up from listening by a parade ground; and as high priest he carried a curved scimitar, so that in his fencing he relied on the edge and neglected the point in a most un-Roman fashion.
Therefore my post at court, though it had been invented for me, was not exactly a sinecure. Someone at Praetorian headquarters chose sober, well-spoken, gentle drillmasters and fencing instructors; but the chosen teachers reported to me before they began their task, and I was present during the lessons to make sure that no harm came to the Emperor, either to his body or to his self-esteem. I was something between a special bodyguard and the pedagogue who looks after the behaviour of a young nobleman.
I began to see life from a new point of view. Since the age of fourteen I had lived in intimate contact with comrades rougher and less educated than myself. I had been the clever one, knowing the answer to all difficult questions; and this is very harmful to the character. Now I found myself the slow simple soldier among a crowd of quick-witted beautiful young people, whose talk was full of allusions and references I could not follow. Their flippancy both delighted and shocked me, and the effort to keep up with them sharpened my brain.
The most striking characteristic of the imperial family was a breath-taking beauty. The Augusta, though a grandmother, was none the less a most beautiful lady. Nearly every day she went riding, and she had allowed her face to get as brown as any man’s; but the exercise kept her waist slim and her movements vigorous. She was not tall, but she held herself very straight. She could sink into a pile of cushions without hesitation, and spring erect as easily as a young athlete. Sitting in her chair of state she looked like a statue of Demeter, very wise and motherly but at the same time stern and awesome.
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