by Miller, Ian
Outside, the snow was falling more heavily, visibility was lower, and the view was now of almost uniformly grey-white. Even the villa was a barely discernible grey shadow against the lighter grey background. From there, the woodshed would be invisible, and this whiteout, he reflected wryly, might be starting to worry some of the slaves. Since he had not known where the woodshed was, and if he had followed the main line of footprints as they might have expected, he might be lost. As he kept chopping, he felt rather pleased with himself that the pile was becoming reasonably impressive, and of course there was nothing like having the slaves get a little worried with their new authority.
Chopping should clear the mind, and it did, until thoughts of Little Boots came to the fore. They made him angry, which lead him to chop more vigorously. It seemed wrong that here, on Saturnalia, his first real Saturnalia since he had left the estate to go to Capri, he had to spend all his efforts wondering how to keep the woman he loved out of the hands of a little boot.
After an hour, a good heap of wood lay against the wall. Gaius leaned back against a post away from the door and realized he was becoming thirsty. He was beginning to wonder whether he should go back inside, when a snow covered shape charged into the shed, gave a cursory look around, then swore quietly.
"Looking for someone?" Gaius asked, from the shadows of the corner.
The slave jumped a little, turned, and then said, with a great effort to disguise a considerable amount of relief, "Oh! There you are."
"Is that enough?" Gaius asked, a little pleased now that he had stayed. Clearly there had been concern, and this slave had no desire to be trudging around in the snow looking for him.
The slave glanced at the heap of wood for the first time and gave a start. He recovered quickly and nodded, "That'll do. We've got to go back inside. They're waiting for you."
Gaius nodded, and decided to fill a basket with wood. There was little doubt he would be back out here, so he might as well take as much as he could carry, to reduce the number of visits.
Gaius dumped the load of wood beside the firebox, took his cloak back to the pegs, then came back into the big room and looked around. The slaves had surveyed the scene and ensured they could afford to enjoy themselves. At last all the 'masters' were present, currently seated before the carefully prepared stage and ready for the day, and more to the point, were in reasonably good spirits. The slaves were now confident enough to take full control.
A large gong was struck, and a rather dumpy 'Saturn' strode onto the stage, followed by the required number of extras. The traditional binding and unbinding took place, until finally Saturn decreed that the time for sowing was approaching, and once again the harvest would be good. Now was the time for wine and feasting. Io Saturnalia!
This was the signal for the masters to arise, and ensure that the traditional cake was distributed evenly amongst those slaves there. Each took their piece, and began eating. Suddenly there was a cry from one of the young female slaves. "I've got it! I've got it!" She waved around the small dark bean that had been embedded in her piece of cake. The discovery was quickly confirmed, and all waited.
Very solemnly she walked around those present, first amongst the masters, a move that fooled nobody, for she could never select one of them, then she walked amongst the slaves, waving the bean in front of faces, studying the faces, then moving on. This, in turn, fooled nobody. The slaves knew fine well who would be chosen, for it seemed this young woman had clear desires on one of the younger slaves who had managed to acquire a relatively prosperous peculium. They were correct. She finally came in front of the one slave she had not approached before; she curtsied and handed over the bean, thus appointing the Saturnalicus Princeps, the Lord of Misrule. Io Saturnalia!
As was customary, a "throne" was demanded, and produced, and the Princeps was dressed in truly lavish clothes. No luxury was withheld, for to do so invited the punishments of the Saturnalicus Princeps, not that these could be avoided.
He took his throne, surveyed the scene, looked at the young woman who had appointed him, then announced, to the surprise of nobody, that she would be his princess. Such an appointment, perforce, required another throne, which again had been anticipated and was quickly produced.
The Saturnalicus Princeps glanced at the slave again, and announced that her clothes were hardly suitable for a princess. He pointed at Vipsania, and ordered, "Dress her in your best clothes!"
Vipsania nodded. Io Saturnalia! She made off, and came back with a genuinely marvellous gown. She strode up towards the young woman when the Saturnalicus Princeps shook his head and ordered, "Her hair is unclean. Wash it!"
Vipsania nodded, gave the required, "Io Saturnalia!" and left to find some warm water. She was almost ready to start, when suddenly the young woman darted off, muttering something about needing better boots. Vipsania had to follow, but once she had found some suitable boots, and before she could get the young slave to try them on, once again the young girl darted off. It was not long before the point was made: if Vipsania wanted help with her appearance, the least she could do was sit still and be patient.
Meanwhile, the Saturnalicus Princeps pointed to her father, and informed him that that sculpture by the fireplace should be halfway up the stairs. With an "Io Saturnalia!" the sculpture was moved. The Saturnalicus Princeps then turned to Vipsania's mother, and noted that the sculpture really belonged nearer the main door. With an "Io Saturnalia!" the sculpture was once again moved. Then the Saturnalicus Princeps scolded Vipsania for having made no progress, and for having dribbled water all over the floor. That should be cleaned immediately, and why was it that such a simple task as hair washing could not be done. The message was clear: not only should she sit still, but her antics created a lot of other work for the slaves. Then, he pointed to the father, and pointed out that he was slack, because the sculpture could not be seen on the stairways. When it was moved again, to some mirth from the slaves, the mother was questioned. Again the message was clear: try to make up your minds what you want and stop giving contradictory orders.
These antics went on for a little while, but even the Saturnalicus Princeps knew there was a tomorrow, so he called a halt to such ridiculous goings on, and demanded wine for everybody. "Io Saturnalia!" Each goblet was filled by the masters, the slaves now drinking out of gold, the masters out of pottery. As he filled a goblet, the master would bow and state Io Saturnalia! If the slave felt his goblet was filled, and he had been treated well over the year, he would return the wish Io Saturnalia! Gaius made sure he filled the goblet for the young man who had collided with his cart. He was fairly certain that when the acts started, he would be the butt of something, so there was nothing like getting on the right side of his 'master' for the day. As he suspected, two denarii at least got him a warm Io Saturnalia!
The Saturnalicus Princeps then looked over the masters, and demanded that food preparation get underway. Dutifully, they picked themselves up to go to the kitchen, but this time some of the slaves came too. This was the one day of the year when they could eat the richest of the pickings, and they were not going to have this feast spoiled by inept cooks. And so while the necessary work was carried out by the masters, it was carried out under the very keen eyes of the cooks. By tradition, the slaves had to get their food before the masters, but in this case there was clearly no shortage of food.
A very prolonged feast followed, during which time certain acts were put on by slaves, which showed up some of what they had noticed through the year. The health of a household could be determined at this time: the better the masters were, the further the slaves felt they could go.
After a series of increasingly ribald scenes, the Saturnalicus Princeps leaped to his feet and demanded support for a clean day. The place, he noted, was beginning to bear some resemblance to a pigsty, and had to be cleaned. To many guffaws, a post was brought in for him to lean on, but Gaius noticed that the post was unusual in that it had something wound around it. In fact, it looked not un
like a gigantic model of one of his bolts, standing on its end. The Saturnalicus Princeps then stood as tall as he could, bearing in mind the post must have been taking most of his weight, and pointed to a slave and said, "Take that rock, take that feather, and teach me something, or else you will be cleaning these pigsties!"
As Gaius expected, the slave took a heavy rock and placed a feather on top of it. He then held the rock out, and dropped it, seemingly on his toe. To many more alcohol-induced guffaws, he began hopping around.
"And what have you learned?" the Saturnalicus Princeps demanded.
"The rock is heavier," came the lugubrious reply.
"Io Saturnalia!" the Saturnalicus Princeps exclaimed, as most of the audience made various humorous gestures towards Gaius. "We shall spare you the dreaded pigsties!"
"Thank you, Princeps!" the slave said, still hopping. By now the alcohol was causing him to lose some control over his hopping, and he collided with a cushion. With a deal of arm waving he flopped down almost beside one of the female slaves, who then threw a cushion over his head, and a minor wrestling match between them commenced.
"So much for keeping it clean," the Saturnalicus Princeps shook his head, then after some thought, he called, "Bring me a robe!"
This was somewhat unusual. As the evening drew on the slaves usually took the opportunity to remove clothes, usually, as appeared to be happening with the couple wrestling in the corner, from members of the other sex. Nevertheless, a large red robe was brought on. He put it on, and Gaius could not help noticing that it looked suspiciously like an attempt to represent a Legate's robe.
The princess, dressed in Vipsania's best dress, now began walking around the room. Then, from the ceiling, a pair of small sandals was lowered, and these began 'walking' around the room, about a meter above the floor.
"A virgin! I need a virgin!" came a cry from out the back. Then the sandals began to follow the princess, who began squealing, "Woe! Woe! Never! Never!"
Suddenly, a fat cupid appeared, with a short bow. He looked at the audience, shook his head, and said, "If being a virgin is a problem, I have the answer!" He hooked on an arrow to his bow, and added, "When this strikes, the man will love the first one he sees!"
All was now reasonably clear to the audience. The rather unusual instruction to 'Keep it clean!' was unlikely to be kept much longer. Io Saturnalia!
The cupid circled around the Saturnalicus Princeps who made a point of being oblivious to his presence. Then the arrow struck, and the Saturnalicus Princeps swung around, and began hugging the bolt. The cupid turned to the audience, shrugged, and said, "That dolt has fallen for a bolt! Something must be done! I call on the great God Saturn!"
The Saturn now appeared, shook his head in despair, and pointed a staff. Suddenly, the bolt unravelled, and to much mirth the Saturnalicus Princeps was flung around the 'bolt' in increasingly large circles until finally he was free, but still spinning giddily. The robe, meanwhile, had come off, and his other clothing was clearly following closely. A final 'effort' was made to retain his balance, which clearly failed, and he fell down beside his princess.
Saturn now made his usual speech to end 'formal proceedings'. He foretold a good harvest in the coming year, fertile stock, and then finally, looking down at the couple who had moved to a sofa in the next room, he mentioned that certain slaves should be permitted to marry. Then, with the look of a man who knows he is out of place, but realizing that this would be the one chance he had to make his point and live, he added that at least one other couple should also marry. If they did so soon, the Gods would bless them with a most interesting life.
* * *
"We should quickly send a message to Caesar," Gaius noted to Vipsania afterwards, "and tell him we have both had a vision from the Gods. That should make the interesting part of that prophecy descend on us fairly quickly."
"You're still prepared to?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," he nodded, and kissed her lightly. Then he stepped back, and said in a very serious tone. "I have given you my word, and you know what a Claudian's word is worth."
"Indeed I do," she grinned, while she shook her head in disbelief. "They are the most duplicitous lot in Rome!"
Chapter 12
The wedding became quite an event, in part because in the middle of winter there were not very many events outside Rome. Several Legates attended, and while one, from the seventh, merely had to cross the town, some had travelled quite some distance for it was a good opportunity for senior officers of legions to meet. The Governor of Dalmatia, Furius Camillus Scribonianus, was in attendance, and as Timothy informed Gaius later, Scribonianus seemed to spend much time in deep conversation with Vipsania's father.
Aulus Plautius also attended, and gave a small gift, and perhaps a larger one; he had written to the Princeps, telling him how pleased the army on the Danube was for Gaius, and how Gaius intended to use the event to reinforce the sense of loyalty to the Princeps. It gave Roman traders an opportunity to meet the influential class, and strangely it gave some of the tribes from across the river an opportunity to demonstrate their allegiance, although to whom was not entirely clear. As Gaius remarked to Vipsania later, he seemed to be one of Gaius Caesar's strongest advocates, and his advocacy tended to be limited to, "Give the man another chance!" or "He must have a reason."
The next few weeks were fiercely passionate, and so very tense. Vipsania could not stop imagining what the consequences would be. She had dark days and extremely dark days, and only approached being bearable when she was actively doing something. There was simply not enough to take her mind off Rome. She imagined all sorts of responses, but all involved Little Boots taking out his spite on her. Or on Gaius. Or on both. All that varied was the degree of harm.
From the outside, Gaius appeared to be untroubled. Inside, he seethed. He could visualize a few simple responses from Rome, and his problem was, what would he do? One thing he knew: if he turned Vipsania over to Little Boots, he would never see her again. If Little Boots did not kill her, she would do it herself. At moments like that the prophecy flashed across his mind. There would be two women in his life. That implied that something had to happen to the first.
The trouble was, even if the Gods had spoken, and declared there would be two women, it did not mean he would marry both of them, or for that matter, it did not even mean the ugly one would be on his side. She could be some enemy Queen.
All of which was irrelevant. The question was, what would he do? In effect there were two options: obey or not obey. Obey and Vipsania would die; not obey, and he was in open revolt. From then on, Rome would have him executed if they caught him. If he ran, he and Vipsania would be penniless, an embarrassment to any nearby king. Unless he could provide the enemy with the means to defeat Rome, he would be handed back. So he might as well stay, fight and die beside his Vipsania. There was no way out of this problem.
Unless he won. He would not be the first Roman to bring legions into Rome, nominally to right wrongs, but really to satisfy the commander's political ambitions. He did not have legions, but he was aware that the legions on the Rhine were only barely loyal, and their loyalty was to the Principate, and not to Little Boots.
But revolt against Rome was, well, unthinkable. All the work of the great Augustus would be for nothing. They would be back into the dark days of the Republic. And that would be what the legions on the Rhine would conclude.
All he could do was hope that Little Boots had other things on his mind. So, outwardly he seemed untroubled, and he did his best to lift Vipsania's spirits.
* * *
The response from Rome eventually arrived in the form of a despatch case carried by a Praetorian. Gaius took the leather case and dismissed the soldier. If nothing else, he had no intention of letting anyone see his reaction. Eventually he broke the seal and slowly opened the case. What he found was quite unexpected. There was a small bag, and a brief note from the Princeps: For saving the life of a young lady of senatorial class, one c
orona civica; for extending the range of the empire through military conquest, one corona murales. The recommended decorations for the men who were on the raid have been approved, and the messenger will have deposited them at the legionary headquarters. Congratulate your men. G.
Gaius stared at the letter, then decided that while there could be hidden messages, the more important one was that he was safe for the moment, at least. Of all the things he had expected, decorations were the last. Gaius Caesar seemed to be handing these out like water, except that he was unaware of many others receiving them. It was almost as if Caesar was, after all, favouring him, although why this should be eluded him.
* * *
By the end of February the border was peaceful, the legion more or less ran itself, and for Gaius, life seemed to be heavenly. By now he had decided that Little Boots had forgotten about him. It was just when Vipsania had finally agreed with Gaius that Little Boots' attentions would go elsewhere that a message bearing an imperial seal came from Rome. Vipsania saw it, and the colour drained from her face.