by Kyle Onstott
“So, I am to be Caesar. At least grandmother says so and she is always right. We’ll leave Emesa and go to Rome. I do not remember Rome very well. I wonder if I shall like it there. When I am Caesar I will be able to have anything I want and do anything I want. Anything! Anything in the world, for Rome is the world and I shall be Emperor of Rome. I shall send Gannys all over the Empire to pick a bodyguard for me. Gannys knows the ones I like. I shall have the strongest, the handsomest, the most virile men in the world and . . . the wickedest. I’ll train them all to be chariot drivers. No, I’ll make soldiers of them and place Eutychianus Comazon over them. And I will dress in a robe entirely of gold, covered with gems and review my troops by lifting up their tunics one by one, I shall be Caesar!
“Ah, the soldier is stirring. His arm tightens around me. He still sleeps. Shall I awaken him? After last night, he will be useless to me. But no, in his sleep his strength grows and I can feel it pressing against my thigh. His arms are tighter. His lips are near mine. His mouth opens and I can see his white teeth and the red tip of his tongue. And now I shall reach down my hand and discover again what a wondrous thing is a man. When I am Caesar, I shall have ten of my guardsmen every night, all in one big bed that covers the whole floor. He awakens. He opens his eyes. They are dark, almost black and his lashes are long and sooty. He smiles at me and whispers “Pretty boy, see what you’ve done now.” Again, sailor from Gades? Can you? But of course. Some day you will say that you bedded Caesar.
“Again? But no, sailor from Gades. You do not get what you want just by whispering ‘pretty boy’ to me. It is not so easy. I yield not my virtue without a struggle. Would you kill me? Then do! Do! Do! Remind me to give you a double ration of gold for the double measure of pleasure you are giving me. Why did you stop, sailor from Gades? Oh, why? Why do you men spend yourselves so soon?”
Julia Maesa
“The night has gone and the sun is rising and still I have not slept. There is so much to do, I do not know where first to start. Well, at last Caracalla is dead and he died without my having to do anything about it. It is just as well—better that way. He was Pia’s son and I would not want his blood on my hands—my own nephew. I wonder if Pia will weep for him as she wanted to weep for Geta. Of the two, Caracalla was my favorite, at least he was more of a man than Geta was. Or more of a man than Varius is. But Varius is as I want him. Soaemias and I have trained him well and be will cause us no trouble. Perhaps the world will judge me ruthless to have made a pervert of my grandson, but what care I for the world. I care only for Rome. Varius will never have a mind of his own but Alexianus will. I must admit it, I love Alexianus best. What we have made out of Varius disgusts me. I have always hated effeminate men. Varius is not stupid, but Alexianus is cleverer. What a ruler he would make, but he would rule by himself with some help from Mamaea and none at all from me. How I have always wanted to rule Rome. I have sat and watched the stupid mistakes that others have made. Septimius was not stupid but he let himself be influenced by that fool, Plautinus, and that was a mistake. Caracalla was really stupid. All he wanted was to be a common legionary but perhaps he was wiser than I give him credit. The army loved him. Yet their love did not save him for he was killed by a soldier. And now, Macrinus is to be Emperor. For how long? I’ll give him six months on the throne. Yes, I must write to King Artabanus. Trouble is already brewing in Parthia. Artabanus was a friend of Caracalla’s who almost married his daughter. Artabanus will fight to free Parthia from Rome and then Macrinus will have to act. He’ll lead whatever legions are faithful to himself against Artabanus, and the legions that Comazon has won to Varius will revolt and Macrinus will be caught between two fires. We have honeycombed the legions with bribes. It has taken most of my fortune but when I have Rome in my hands, I’ll have a far greater wealth. The legions are rotten with bribes and when these here revolt, others will follow.
“We must build up the image of Varius as the son of Caracalla. Then the legions will remember their love for Caracalla and will be all the more anxious to desert to Varius. Oh, I am sleepy but there is no time to sleep now. I must write more letters. I must write to Julius Paulus. He is the most influential person in Rome today and he has a daughter who is but a few years older than Varius. According to Roman law, Varius must wed although a lot of good he will do the woman he marries. Paulus’s daughter is an empty-headed chit and she will do for Varius.
“Comazon must attend me first thing in the morning and if I can pry that black stallion off Soaemias, she must be present too. Soaemias is clever. But she thinks too much of her Gigex these days. Yet, if I get rid of him she will hate me and I need her because she handles Varius better than I can. Where is my stylus? Now let me see, the first letter to Artabanus. “Your Exalted Majesty. You have my word for it. Once my grandson becomes Emperor, suitable terms will be arranged whereby all Parthia becomes an independent monarchy with you on the throne. However, in order for my grandson to become Emperor, we must first put down the imposter Macrinus that now claims to be Caesar. My grandson, who is soon to become High Priest of Elah-ga-baal will invoke the blessing of the Sun God upon you and your armies.”
“Oh, there is so much to do, so much, so much, so much and only I to do it. If I had been a man I would have been a general. Alas, I am only a woman but I shall still be Emperor of Rome.”
Soaemias
“Gigex, don’t leave me. It is still early and you already speak of going. Do I not please you any more? Last night you were so different. You were tired; you had a headache; you wanted to sleep. Why do you think you are here? Certainly it is not to have a headache, to sleep or to be tired. Tired? Why should you be tired? You do nothing all day. You have an easy life for a slave. Too easy, too easy! You seem to forget that you are a slave and that if I wish, I can send you to the whips. I can have you crucified. Have your arms stretched out on a cross. I command you. Come back here to bed or by any god you name, I shall send you to the cross. This very day I’ll have you whipped.
“Oh, Gigex dear, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t. I would not harm you. I would not have a mark on that glorious satin-soft skin of yours. I love you too much. Oh, Gigex, that is better. Your lips entrance me, they are large and soft, like two enormous cushions for me to rest mine on. Your teeth are so white and clean and your tongue a potent instrument. How big your nipples are. Let me squeeze them in my fingers. Your belly is so flat, Gigex and oh, the wondrous joy of you.
“I am sorry that you drank so much last night while you waited for me. You drank trying to forget me? Because you were impatient and couldn’t wait? I was with my mother until so late, no wonder you were impatient. No wonder you drank. You were lonely without your Soaemias. How well I understand and I’m sorry about what I said, about sending you to the whips. Of course I didn’t mean it. Your beautiful back, darling Gigex. No welts must ever mar it.
“Would you like to go to Rome. Would you like to be head man over all the slaves in the Imperial Palace. No? Why not? You want to be a freedman? Well, why not? Yes, Gigex, you shall be free when we arrive in Rome, Varius will be Emperor and I the Mother-Augusta. Oh, Gigex, wait until you see Rome—the Palace, the Circus Maximus, the Forum and the wonderful baths which Caracalla had almost finished. What a sensation you will cause when you walk through the baths naked. Half of Rome will be slavering and crawling after you.
“But you are not a freedman yet, Gigex. Don’t forget you are still my slave and you will have to earn your freedom. If you want to be free, you will have to love me. No more headaches, no more drinking too much, no more feeling tired.
“Oh, that’s better. Yes, Gigex, that is the way I love you. Faster, Gigex. No, wait. Let’s not finish all at once. Lie beside me and let me play.
“Do be friendly with Varius, Gigex. No, not that friendly. Never. I refuse to share you with him. Yes, I know he has had his eyes on you but you must put him off. Make excuses. I’ll talk to him. I can always persuade him to my way of thinking. I know—the color of your skin. D
arkness stands for night and night is cursed to the priests of Elah-ga-baal although I think they enjoy their nights more than their days. I’ll tell Varius that it would be a bad omen for him to touch you. He’s superstitious, and if I tell him that, he will leave you alone.
“Oh, Gigex, you are impatient. Yes, now! Oh, now, Gigex, now! I can wait no longer and neither can you. Oh, Gigex, now!”
Mamaea
“Caracalla is dead and there is nobody to mourn him. Not even Aunt Pia will weep for him for she shed all her tears in secret for Geta. I am the only one that will ever weep for Caracalla and I too must hide my tears for nobody must ever know I loved him. At least I never let him know. I did not throw myself at him the way Soaemias did, dragging him into her bed and tasting the delights I so longed for. Then I would not take him even if he had looked at me. I will not take Soaemias’s leftovers—the slut! She has spoiled my whole life for me. Whenever I wanted anything, she always took it first. Even now, she is planning to put her ninny, Varius, on the throne of Rome.
“By right it should go to my son. Alexianus is strong where Varius is weak. He is a man, whereas Varius is nothing but a silly girl, disguised as a man. That ridiculous little queen with his silken robes, his affectations, his painted face and his soldier bedmates. Yet, through some strange perversity of fate, he has charmed the army. Strange that men, soldiers, the embodiment of all that is male; should love this weird hermaphrodite and yet they do. Naturally. He has bought them with Mother’s gold.
“I suppose he will be Caesar and we shall be off to Rome again. But, I must remember, even while I weep for Caracalla, that his death brings my son one step nearer to the purple. Macrinus cannot last long. He is weak and brainless, an insufferable poseur who will quickly lose what little popularity he has. Mother is already plotting his downfall in order to put Varius on the throne. Then Varius will fall and it will be Alexianus’s turn. Oh Rome! How you will suffer until the times comes that Alexianus governs. You will be torn between Varius’s feminine wiles, Soaemias’s lusts and my mother’s indomitable will. Then, with Alexianus will come peace. Alexianus will be a second Augustus.
“Yes, Caracalla, I weep for you and for myself. How often have I looked at your lips and wished that I could kiss them. How often have I wondered at the strength of your arms and longed for their embrace? Soaemias knew them—she felt your lips, she gloried in the strength of your arms and all the intimate passions that you gave her, but she never knew that I wanted you. Had she known she would have enjoyed it even more for she would have felt she was depriving me of something I wanted and that is her greatest joy. But my turn will come. Varius, poor weak womanly Varius will be hounded from the palace. Soaemias will go with him. Mother may perish with them and then there will be only Alexianus and I. If Soaemias can lay claim to sleeping with Caracalla, so can I. Who can prove that Alexianus is not an imperial bastard too. They say that Varius resembles Caracalla. Bah! Caracalla was a man, every inch of him, so how could the pretty painted Varius resemble him. Alexianus resembles him far more and Alexianus will be a man. I promise that. Oh, my son! Tonight you have changed fathers. Caracalla fathered you and if I swear it who can dispute me. Soaemias? No! For even though she had him, she cannot prove he did not leave her musky sheets, hot with their lust and damp with their sweat and seek the coolness of my own for a welcome relief.
“Macrinus! A year at the most with Mother, Soaemias and Comazon to undermine him. Then Varius! Six months, a year, Rome will soon weary of his abnormal licentiousness. Then, Alexianus and golden days for Rome.
“Wake up, Metrax, and leave. I cannot sleep with you snoring beside me. It is too hot to sleep with another. I only keep you because Soaemias has her Gigex but I have no desire for you. Tonight I would weep and I prefer to weep alone. Oh, Caracalla!”
Tribune’s Apartment
Eutychianus Comazon
“Rome lost a good soldier in Caracalla. If he had not been Emperor he would have made a good legionary—the kind that fights well in all sorts of weather and asks nothing more than a few denarii to spend on a whore. Would that we had more like him in the ranks.
“And now that stupid Opellius Macrinus! Setting himself up to be Emperor. Doesn’t the fool know that the only reason he became Praetorian Prefect was because Caracalla was so lazy, he didn’t realize how stupid Macrinus really was. Macrinus fawned and flattered himself all the way to the top and now there is nobody left for him to flatter so he will fall down as quickly as he climbed up.
“Maesa is clever! She has already made King Artabanus think that this would be a good time to overthrow the Roman yoke. Now it’s up to me to set the legions against Macrinus so that he’ll lose the war. Set them against Macrinus and bind them over close to Varius. Strange that I should like the boy but I really do. I’ve never bedded a boy in my life but he is too damned beautiful. At times I have been tempted and if what my soldiers say is true, it might be worth my while. Certainly they are devoted to Varius. He has charmed them and, by Eros, he has nearly charmed me. He’s a good boy under all his airs and affectations, good hearted and generous. What he is is the fault of his grandmother and mother.
“Soaemias—what a bitch she is! But what a woman! Even now, after all these years, she can make me feel as no other woman ever could. I wonder if she gives that black stud, Gigex, the wonderful times she once gave me—and Caracalla too. No wonder he loved her. Any man would. But Gigex doesn’t. It’s something to bed a woman because you love her but something else again when you are commanded. Imagine trying to satisfy Soaemias every night. The poor fellow must have to fortify himself with a quart of satyrion and even then, Soaemias would not be satisfied. They say Varius is like her. The soldiers say they cannot satisfy him. He’s insatiable. Well, from what I have seen of my poor boys, crawling back to camp almost on their hands and knees, I imagine Varius is like his mother. But Varius almost met his match in the young German. What a stallion that boy was, but Varius wore him down and left him as limp as a rag. He needed a week to rest.
“I must find out about this Aurelius Zoticus, the young athlete that’s stationed with the Thirteenth Legion in Alexandria. His fame had already spread through the army and even Gannys has heard about him. Gannys thinks he would be a good match for young Varius. Well, if this Zoticus is anything like the reputation he has been credited with, he ought to be able to satisfy Varius. I’ll write to Publius Aemilianus in Alexandria and have the boy transferred to Emesa. Publius was no particular friend to Caracalla but he’ll hate Macrinus because he was Caracalla’s tool. And Publius is wise enough to know that the wind is blowing in the direction of Varius. He’ll be willing to sacrifice the pride of the Thirteenth.
“There’s a lot of things to do tomorrow. The most important is to bolster Varius’s popularity. In a few weeks, he’ll be High Priest of Elah-ga-baal. Time to get this Zoticus here. Zoticus will be a fit initiation for the first night Varius spends in the temple. And when Varius knows that I supplied Zoticus, he’ll be more grateful to me than ever. And then I’ll tell him that Publius Aemilianus sent him and he’ll send off a gift to Publius. I must remember to send the courier to Alexandria tomorrow, telling him to return with Zoticus even if he has to kidnap him.
“Perhaps I’d better go to Parthia myself and see King Artabanus. But I’ll wait until after Varius has been made High Priest. There are a lot of things I must do before that event. There’s a donative to the soldiers on the occasion of Varius entering the priesthood. I’ll suggest 300 drachmae and Maesa will howl like a hyena but she’ll settle for 150 drachmae and that will be as much as Caracalla ever gave them. I’ll not be able to get it to the men in Antioch now because Macrinus is there, but I’ll send word to them that it is theirs, only being held in abeyance for them. That will make them love Varius all the more and weaken Macrinus’s hold over them.
“I’ve got a nice lad to send to Varius tomorrow night. He’s a Nubian, as black as Soaemias’s Gigex. Varius has had his eyes on Gigex for some time
but Soaemias will not part with him. So, Varius will be grateful for the Nubian and the Nubian will be grateful to me for the gold Varius gives him. He’ll treat all his friends to wine and they’ll all toast Varius. So far the boy has had every soldier in the Legion under thirty, and the older men have had gifts. How they’ll cheer when he appears on the steps of the temple.
“I wonder if it’s too late to go to the palace tonight. Perhaps Soaemias would dispense with her Gigex for one night. Tonight I would appreciate her. ’Twould be like reading an interesting book all over again. I would know the ending but the story would be sweet. I wonder about Mamaea. She is so cold, perhaps there’s a fire in her like Soaemias but she has never shown it. She doesn’t like me. Oh well, what does it matter?
“It’s too late to go tonight. I’ll sound out Soaemias about tomorrow night. Maybe she’ll enjoy a change of colour and the black would enjoy a night of rest. A courier to Alexandria in the morning! A letter to King Artabanus telling him my visit must be kept secret. A short briefing of the Nubian lad. See Soaemias and find out about tomorrow night. Get Maesa to agree to the donative. And now, to sleep. The first step is accomplished—Caracalla is dead. Soon we shall all be back in Rome, hiding under the silken skirt of young Varius. Perhaps I’ll finally succumb to his charm. Might help me in the future. Well, soon I’ll be Prefect of the Praetorians—more than that, I’ll be Emperor of Rome—the real Emperor while I keep Varius amused.”