Bedrock of Empire

by Thomas M D Brooke

  Marcus gave a smile of relief, stood straight and saluted. ‘It will be my utmost honour, my lord!’

  Livianus grinned broadly. ‘That’s the spirit, such enthusiasm. No soldiers like them.’ He looked up at Marcus. ‘You promise to protect me and my wife against all others, and swear by all the gods to lay down your life if necessary?’

  Marcus always took such sentiments seriously; he took a deep breath and declared, ‘I do solemnly swear by Jupiter, Neptune and Apollo to protect you until death.’

  The governor clapped his hands. ‘Good! That’s decided then! Report to Marianus early tomorrow morning. He will tell you where we want you to stand. The crowds will be so pleased. This will make up for the lack of a monoceros!’

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  The sun lit up the sandy oblong ring of Livianus’ newly completed circus, seemingly thronged by the entire city’s population. The great marble facade of the central spina and obelisk dazzled the eye, and the crowd buzzed with excited expectation of the day’s events. The day was billed for chariot racing, followed by gladiatorial matches and public executions. The city of Tarraco had never seen the like, and they were clearly relishing the prospect of such a grand spectacle. There were cheers and singing from the assembled crowd, who were dressed in their finest tunics and togas. The city’s more entitled citizens sat near the front of the straights, whilst those of lower ranks sat further back, but there wasn’t a seat untaken. The new circus’ stone seating was now crammed to bursting and their governor was receiving the adulation of his people. Livianus sat resplendent in the imperial box as the crowd cheered his name. He soaked up the praise, as others would the sun, raising his hand to acknowledge their excessive admiration.

  By the gods, it was hard not to be moved by the sight, sat, as I was, next to him in the imperial box. Was this the feeling of power that so filled the minds of the most powerful men in the empire? My own father, governor of his own province, must experience this feeling at public events. Was this what drove him? The exaltation and homage from his people? It elevated men to the status of the gods themselves. For the first time in my life, I felt a brief glimpse into the world of those who ruled our empire. The power, the status, the lionisation. I shuddered at the implications of such a heady addiction. This is what ran in the blood of Augustus, Livianus, my father, and also the great men of Rome’s past – Julius Caesar, Pompey, Marius, to name just a few.

  I looked over at the basking Livianus, a contented smile on his face as he waved in acknowledgement to the crowd. I realised that this day represented the sum of his life’s work. He had served the empire, enriched himself in the process, and lived a life of privilege and luxury. But at that moment I was sure that all paled into insignificance compared to this event, and the opening of his own circus that rivalled the great Circus Maximus of Rome.

  ‘Your people love you, my lord,’ I told him genuinely.

  He gave me a slight smile, a twinkle in his eye. ‘So they should, after the expense I went to.’

  Aulus sat beside me, his eyes wide and shining. ‘Not even in Rome have I felt such excitement in a crowd. You must be very proud.’

  Livianus gave a slight nod of his head as he continued to wave. ‘It has taken a lot of hard work to get us to this point, but now we can enjoy the rewards of all our labours.’

  I looked around, a little spellbound myself. The imperial box was guarded by my Praetorians. Marcus stood at the back of the box, face rigid and solemn, as befitted a soldier on duty. I knew inside that Marcus’ heart would be beating just as fast as my own. It was impossible not to be moved by the air of excitement in the crowd.

  On the other side of the governor stood Marianus, the tribune of his palace guard. His position had been usurped somewhat by Marcus, but he had taken it with good grace and offered no complaint. Behind us sat Abelia, the governor’s wife. She was equally excited by the crowd but was eager to get on with proceedings. ‘When will it start, Ursus? I can’t wait to see the chariots!’

  Ursus was the affectionate name she gave her husband, something that didn’t really suit the small elderly governor, as he was anything but bearlike. ‘Patience, Abelia, patience. These moments can’t be rushed. I’ll not experience another day like this. Let me enjoy my time in the sun.’

  Livianus milked the crowd for a while longer, before finally raising one hand in the air. A peal of trumpets sounded and the crowd bellowed in delight as they realised the games were about to start.

  The gates to the circus opened and eight small chariots came rushing out, each led by a team of two horses. These chariots boasted the same team colours as they would in the Roman capital. The famous chariot houses of Rome that were divided into the colours of Blue, Green, Red, and White were being mirrored in Livianus’ circus. Each charioteer wore a tunic in his specified colour, and the reins and harness of the horses were also decorated with the same bright coloured ribbons.

  ‘By the gods!’ exclaimed Aulus. ‘That man in the White team, is that Innocentius?’

  Livianus smiled. ‘You have a good eye. Yes, he has come all the way from Rome to compete.’

  Aulus leant forward on the balustrade of the imperial box. ‘Last year I saw him win the race at the festival of Consualia. How did you get him to leave the Whites for such a long trip overseas?’

  Aulus was an avid fan of the Whites, something that had always irked me, being a Blues fan. Abelia excitedly told my brother-in-law, ‘Livianus had to tempt him over with a pot of gold so large that he couldn’t decline it. Isn’t that right, Ursus?’

  The governor chuckled. ‘In truth, the amount wasn’t as much as I’d feared. It turns out that the great Innocentius isn’t as innocent as his name implies. Despite his many victories in the Circus Maximus, since buying his freedom he’s squandered much of his wealth and accumulated a number of gambling debts that needed paying off.’

  I felt a sense of unease in my stomach that reminded me of Blasius and what people were prepared to do for gold. ‘I thought Innocentius only rode in the quadrigae?’

  The two-horsed bigae had a certain following, but the four-horsed chariots tended to be the main event, and the more famous charioteers normally competed in the latter. Livianus waved an acknowledgement to the famous rider as he went past on a parade lap. ‘Oh, he’ll be competing in that event as well. He requested being entered into the bigae race to help adjust to the new circuit.’

  Aulus shook his head in wonder. ‘I never thought to see him outside Rome. He has become a firm favourite – so fearless. It will be interesting to see how he copes with the different dynamics of this track.’

  Livianus gave a sniff. ‘My circus may not be quite as large as Rome’s but I expect its sharper corners to provide more drama. We should be set for some entertaining races today. The winner of each event will walk away with a fortune.’

  What he wasn’t saying was that the losers would be lucky to walk away at all – crashes were common in the races. I kept that thought to myself. I didn’t want to spoil Livianus’ day.

  Aulus’ eyes bulged with excitement. ‘How many races will there be?’

  Abelia pushed forward to explain. ‘There will be four races of the bigae, then later they’ll change their horses and compete in a one-off race of the quadrigae. Then we can see how they fare with four horses!’

  ‘Oh joy!’ exclaimed Aulus, who was turning out to be the perfect guest for the governor’s grand spectacle. Unlike me, who only took a passing interest in the chariot racing, Aulus genuinely loved the chariots and often took Antonia to see events in Rome. His enthusiasm helped pander to Livianus’ ego, something that I felt could only work in our favour.

  The chariots all lined up, and Livianus raised a brightly coloured cloth above his head. The crowd buzzed with excitement until the governor dropped the cloth and the riders whipped their horses. The crowd roared as the chariot teams leapt out from their starting places, speeding around the track. The straights were far shorter than those of the
Circus Maximus, and the bends tighter, and with eight chariots, collisions were inevitable. Two floundered on the first lap after careering into each other. The crowd gave a shocked gasp as their chariots were smashed to splinters, but then cheered all the louder as the race continued. The loose horses continued to race around with the other chariots, causing another obstacle for the remaining contestants. I noticed that one of the fallen riders managed to rise and flee the circuit, but the other was struggling to get up. He didn’t have long to find his feet if he wanted to live. No one would be coming to his aid.

  Innocentius had a fast team, and he brought them out in front of the rest of the field. The crowd cheered as he spun his chariot around the bend and turned down the straight where the crash had been the circuit before. The mainly Spanish crowd had yet to adopt the bloodthirsty nature of their Roman cousins. Sometimes in Rome, the crowd of the Circus Maximus would cheer and jeer, willing the fallen rider to be mown down. But instead, they cheered when he made it to the edge, just before the other riders came galloping over the spot where he had lain just moments before. After each circuit, a marble dolphin that sat atop a pole on the spina – another copy from the Circus Maximus – was pulled downwards to signal a lap had passed.

  As the chariots raced around the circuit, they sprayed dirt high into the air, showering the onlooking crowd, who screamed in excitement. The charioteers tried to push one another into the central plinth at each bend, and they weren’t averse to using their whips on each other if necessary.

  There were several spills and upsets along the way, but the Roman champion Innocentius just managed to come out in front – winning the race by a clear two paces. Aulus crowed, ‘You see! He’s a great rider, and even better in the quadrigae. He’ll win this competition! I’m sure of it.’

  Livianus chuckled. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure. There might be a few surprises left before the day is out. Just you watch.’

  The next two races were won by local riders who had honed their skill practising in the circus during its construction. Although not as skilled as the Roman chariot riders who Livianus had brought over from Rome, they were more used to the tighter bends, something they used to their advantage, causing two veterans of Rome to shatter their chariots onto the sides of the circuit – something that delighted the crowd, despite the danger it posed them. I said to Aulus, ‘You’re better off putting your faith in the riders who know the track. Experience counts for little here if it’s gained in the Circus Maximus.’

  Aulus shook his head vigorously. ‘Pah! You know nothing of chariot racing, Cassius. Innocentius will beat those two in the quadrigae, mark my words.’

  I turned to Livianus. ‘Who else do you have in the next race? Anyone of note?’

  An ambiguous smile that could be construed as a smirk coiled around the governor’s mouth. ‘Oh, I think you might have heard of the next rider.’

  As the next four chariots emerged, Aulus’ mouth dropped. ‘It can’t be!’

  I looked at the eight chariots making a preliminary lap around the stadium but failed to see who Aulus meant. ‘What is it?’

  Aulus pointed at the final chariot, at an ageing charioteer who hadn’t even bothered to dress in the customary Red, Green, Blue or White. He was just wearing leathers and a brown vest, and looked pretty unremarkable to me. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘That’s Skorpa.’

  I recognised that name alright. ‘It can’t be. He retired years ago. He hasn’t been seen racing in a decade.’

  Livianus told us, ‘It most certainly is. I offered him a small fortune just to compete, but he said he’d not take a single denarius unless he wins the whole event. A principled man. Surprising, coming from a former slave.’

  I gave a hidden smile. If the rumours concerning how much money the celebrated chariot rider had accumulated in his long career were even close to the truth, Livianus could never have tempted him out of retirement for money alone. More than likely, the old charioteer had missed the fanfare of the crowd and the excitement of the race. Livianus’ new circus was very privileged to see such a great master of the ring; he was said to have been the greatest of his generation.

  Aulus said in an awed tone, ‘I never thought to see him again. I was a young man when he last competed in the Circus Maximus.’ A tear crept down one cheek as he turned to the governor. ‘Thank you, Livianus. You have made me very happy this day.’

  The race involving Skorpa was a little bit of an anticlimax after Aulus’ great endorsement. He won easily, beating the others by a clear half-lap. Once the other charioteers had realised they couldn’t live with the speed of the Roman legend they had almost given up – so there weren’t even any exciting crashes to keep the crowd entertained. Abelia fumed. ‘Well, that wasn’t much fun. If he wins that easily, what’s the point?’

  Aulus shook his head in wonder. ‘They always said he could coax more out of any horse-team than any man living.’

  I gave a cynical snort. ‘You mean they always gave him the fastest horses.’

  Aulus gave me a furious look. ‘You know nothing, Cassius.’

  Livianus waved his hand in dismissal. ‘Don’t you worry. He won’t have it so easy in the quadrigae. I have been at pains to make sure all four horse-teams are evenly matched. There will be a short break before we get to that in any case. A chance for our first gladiatorial contest!’

  Abelia squealed in delight. ‘At last! This is what I’ve really been waiting for! Much more fun than the chariots!’

  Aulus’ face clearly showed he didn’t agree, but he kept it to himself. He knew how much the governor doted on his wife, and he didn’t dare gainsay her. The crowd erupted in applause as soon as the gates to the stadium opened, but I started to feel uneasy as soon as the first two gladiators came out onto the sands. One was a relatively lightly armoured, dark-skinned Thraex known as the Thracian – although what his nationality truly was, I couldn’t say. He held a curved blade, a light helmet and a small square shield. The other was a squat, more heavily armoured hoplomachus, with a heavy manica arm guard of overlapping plates that covered much of his upper body, as well as a large helmet adorned with feathers that matched the motif of his shield. His lower body was protected by a stiff leather kilt and leg guards. He was armed with a spear but also held a gladius in his broad belt.

  Governor Livianus grinned. ‘I do enjoy matching different types together. I don’t give the Thracian much chance against my spearman, but the trainer insists he’s quick and very light on his feet, so he stands a good chance.’

  Abelia’s eyes were as wide as cartwheels. ‘More than a chance – look at his physique! He looks like a wild panther.’

  The gladiator in question was extremely well muscled, with a lean waist and a flat stomach. Livianus looked askance at his wife and then grunted. ‘No doubt that’s why he goes unarmoured, just to show off his body to the crowd. His vanity might cost him his life. We’ll see.’

  The two gladiators came up to the imperial box and raised their weapons to the governor. ‘Those about to die salute you!’ they chorused together.

  Livianus inclined his head and bid them to proceed. Abelia clapped her hands in delight as the two gladiators started circling one another. A water organ started playing, with a slow tempo, building the excitement of the crowd. The squat, heavily armoured hoplomachus wasn’t going to be rushed into closing with the athletic Thracian, and he held back, crouched low, spear at the ready, waiting for his moment to throw as the other man cautiously edged closer.

  Livianus grumbled. ‘We’d better see something soon.’

  I ignored the governor and inwardly applauded the hoplomachus’ caution. That was right, bide your time, you’ll probably only get one throw, make it count. I felt the tension rising in me as the Thracian took another step closer. Suddenly the hoplomachus threw, straight and true, at the advancing dark gladiator. The lightly armoured Thracian was lightning fast, and his supple waist bent so the spear sailed past him. The crowd gasped, and within a flas
h he was attacking the shorter heavily armoured opponent.

  The hoplomachus drew his gladius and defended stoutly, but it was clear the Thracian was the better swordsman. The dark-skinned athlete scored several hits against the unarmoured parts of the gladiator’s body, the hoplomachus only escaping by swinging his heavy manica sleeve towards the head of the Thracian and backing away.

  The dark-skinned man smiled and raised his arms in the air, playing to the crowd as he goaded his opponent before striking forward in attack again, forcing his opponent further backwards.

  Abelia squealed. ‘Oh, isn’t he magnificent!’

  I disagreed. This was why I hated the games so much. If it was just a straight fight, I might be able to bear it, but this taunting and goading of opponents I found insufferable. I knew that combat wasn’t a game, and this showmanship had no place in it for me. The crowd wasn’t of a like mind however, and they cheered and laughed as the Thracian scored another light cut on the hoplomachus, who was now bleeding profusely. The tempo of the water organ increased, building to a fast rhythm. The hoplomachus tried to keep his guard tight, endeavouring to take each blow that made it past his gladius on his armour or shield. But the Thracian was so agile he moved around his opponent and continually changed his angle of attack. The Thracian knew he had the beating of his man, and he toyed with his opponent mercilessly.

  Livianus raised his eyebrows. ‘There is more to this Thracian than I expected. My trainer will have to be congratulated.’

  I looked over at Aulus. Like me, he wasn’t enjoying the spectacle either, and his face showed his repugnance. But what could we do? We were both the guests of honour; we needed to sit through this.

  Abelia swooned with pleasure. ‘He is so masterful with that curved blade.’

  Before long, the hoplomachus collapsed to the ground, bleeding from countless cuts, and raised his hand in submission. The Thracian put his sword to the man’s throat and turned to wait for the governor’s verdict.