I had written my mother and informed her of the promotion, but several weeks would pass before I received a reply. She would be pleased and proud, because I was the first in our family to achieve this high honor.
“What else were you going to say about Gallus?” Eleyne asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Gallus’s preference is for young males,” I told her. “That’s well known. He’s up to something.”
“Nothing good, I’m sure,” she said.
We struggled through the fifty-seven-course dinner, the fercula, each course more extravagant than the last. One choice featured a lion made of Corinthian bronze, standing on a sideboard with large baskets propped on both sides of its back. One side held expensive oranges from Joppa, and the other red, polished apples from the Isle of Chios. Two silver dishes containing little dormice rolled in honey and poppy seeds were supported on miniature bridges crossing between the baskets. Then came a large pig stuffed with steaming sausages and blood pudding on a bronze grill, followed by a silver tray filled with dark-blue plums from Syria and seed of red pomegranates from Egypt. A fat chicken and goose eggs were served to each guest. On it went. Awed and revolted by the cuisine, Eleyne took only small nibbles from each course. I ate with gusto.
Vintage wine such as good massic and expensive Falernian—the nectar of gods—chilled in mountain snow, topped each course. I enjoyed them too much.
No sooner had the meal ended when scantily attired Spanish dancers appeared. The gaze of every man in the room, including mine, locked on to the lascivious maidens from Gades. Wantonly, they enticed every man with cat-like eyes, as their young, lithe bodies floated from couch to couch. Gliding around the marble floor, their nimble fingers clicked wooden castanets, in a frantic, rolling beat. The sound echoed throughout the palace. Exciting the crowd, these lusty nymphs of Venus gyrated their well-proportioned bottoms, just out of reach. Loud moans and sighs came from the lecherous besotted guests. When the performers leaned back and seductively stroked their exposed, ample breasts, a riot nearly erupted. Several noblemen had to be restrained by their wives.
Only when the emperor ordered these female devils out of the dining area did things settle down.
Afterward, the party wasn’t the same. Jugglers from Ethiopia, a poor substitute, were jeered away, as was a hack poet who read a tome praising Vespasian’s campaign in Britannia.
Eleyne saw my disappointment and nudged me in the side. “Don’t worry, before the night’s over you’ll forget those sluts, I promise.”
I turned to her. “There is no way they could ever replace you, darling. Never!” I meant every word.
She smiled and kissed me.
Claudius retired after falling asleep three times during the festivities. Before leaving, he begged the celebrants to stay and enjoy themselves. However, upon his departure, guests began to leave. One of Vespasian’s retainers cornered me regarding a security matter, and I had to excuse myself from Eleyne.
“Steady yourself, you had too much to drink,” she said.
Eleyne was right. Lightheaded, I had difficulty maintaining my gait. The horse-faced centurion’s security matter was little more than an officer making a fool of himself.
As he droned onward, my soggy brain heard Eleyne’s cry. “No, Candra! Don’t!”
A shuffle and noise came from the direction of our couch. “How dare you touch me, filthy scum!” The voice of Gallus.
My bleary eyes saw Candra standing between Eleyne and Gallus. Dropping his massive hands to his side, he looked menacingly down upon a disheveled Gallus and a few of his indignant friends. However, none made a move to touch the giant.
“Who is your master?” Gallus demanded. “I’ll have you crucified!”
A crowd, including Sabinus and Vespasian, gathered around the three.
I staggered to Eleyne’s side. “He pushed Gallus,” she whispered.
A fatal mistake.
Sabinus ordered Candra to step aside, but he hesitated, and Sabinus ordered him again.
“Please, Candra,” Eleyne pleaded, “do it for me.”
He did.
Gallus turned to Sabinus. “Lord Sabinus, this is an outrage!” he exclaimed in a drunken slur. The bloodshot eyes glowered with hate. “How dare he, a slave, touch me?”
“Is this true?” Sabinus asked Eleyne.
“Please Lord, he was protecting me. He didn’t like Tribune Gallus’s remarks to me.”
“I assure you I said nothing insulting,” Gallus arrogantly replied. Reeling, he was steadied by a friend.
“What did he say, Eleyne?” Sabinus questioned.
“He said I was a barbarian who had wormed Roman citizenship out of your lordship and the emperor. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘I can see why.’ I told him to keep his hands to himself, but he only laughed. That’s when Candra shoved him back.”
“That’s a lie!” Gallus yelled. “I didn’t touch her. I said nothing! She lies like all Britons. He must die!”
Calling Eleyne a liar was more than I could stand. My hand reached in reflex for a sword that wasn’t there. Why did he want to upset her, knowing Candra was nearby? Because of our betrothal, was he attempting to provoke an incident with me? Was he too drunk to realize I had left her side only for a moment? Did he believe I would attack him if he bothered her, and in so doing discredit myself with the Equestrian Order? The idea of using the woman I loved to humiliate me was a cowardly move, and it fired my anger all the more.
“That is for me to decide, Anicius Gallus,” Senator Sabinus replied sternly. His hand raised to stop my forward movement. “He is my property, and in your drunken state you had no right to insult or lay a hand on my ward.”
“I’m not drunk,” Gallus slurred.
“Don’t argue with me, man, or I’ll do nothing,” Sabinus answered, glaring menacingly into the younger man’s eyes.
“You heard Senator Sabinus,” Camillus said. “Do as he says, Young Gallus.”
Gallus’s mentor, Senator Camillus, shook his head. “Flavius Sabinus, it’s true he touched the lady, but the slave.”
“Yes, I knew she didn’t lie, but you’re right.” Sabinus hesitated, drew a breath, and turned to a pleading Eleyne. “I’m sorry, but it won’t make any difference, my dear. Candra touched him, and that’s enough to put him to death.”
“Oh no, Lord! No!” she cried.
“However,” Sabinus turned and pierced the watery eyes of Gallus. “Since I’m his master, it’ll be done my way. Candra did his duty in protecting his mistress from the likes of you. You are fortunate to be a Roman patrician. Were you not, Roman citizen or otherwise, I would have allowed him to kill you!”
A torrent of gasps escaped from the group and protestations from Gallus’s friends, but Sabinus ignored them.
“You’ll have your satisfaction but not by crucifixion. He goes to the arena as a gladiator.”
I disagreed with Sabinus, but kept my thoughts to myself. Candra didn’t deserve punishment for protecting Eleyne, but I was relieved that he would not be summarily executed. Although remote, by fighting in the arena, he stood a chance of survival and obtaining his freedom.
“That’s outrageous,” Gallus protested. “He touched me—shoved me. I demand his death, now!” His friends echoed his sentiments.
Sabinus turned to the group. “Roman law leaves it up to the master the manner of death a slave suffers. He properly performed his duty. You know I speak the truth.” Sabinus’s friends voiced their support, including Vitellius.
Gallus fumed. “How can you side with a barbarian?”
“She’s a princess, and betrothed to a Roman citizen, a knight. That gives her the same rights and privileges you infringed upon. Be fortunate I’m punishing him at all.”
He turned to Eleyne. “I’m sorry, my dear, but Candra must be taken away.”
“Guards!” Sabinus motioned to the Praetorians who came forward. Candra’s silent eyes pleaded with Eleyne.
“Candra
, you’ll have to go with them,” Eleyne said in a shaking voice. “For my sake, don’t resist. Please. I’ll come and visit you, I promise.”
The dark giant appeared reluctant, glaring at Gallus. His scowling face and angry, black eyes said what his mute lips could not.
“Take him away,” Sabinus ordered when the guards approached. “Use no brutality, and he’ll go peacefully.” They saluted, and six burly guardsmen took the big Indian in tow.
“Come near Eleyne again, and I’ll finish what her bodyguard started,” I said to Gallus as he was about to leave. Angered by the whole affair, and my tongue loosened by the grape, I wanted to smash him to a pulp. But I wasn’t too drunk to realize the consequences of such an act.
“Insolent as ever, I see, Marcellus Reburrus,” Gallus said in contempt. “No matter, you’re no better than she, a foreigner. Don’t meddle in my affairs!”
I placed my hand beneath my toga on the hilt of a concealed dagger. I started towards Gallus, but Vespasian’s firm grip on my shoulder stopped me. “Don’t act stupidly—you’ll regret it.”
I backed away. “When it concerns Eleyne,” I said, glaring at Gallus, “it’s my affair, she’s my future wife!”
“A perfect match,” Gallus sneered. “Barbarian for a barbarian, and a grave robber besides.”
I lunged at Gallus, but was caught by Vespasian as Eleyne cried out, “No!”
Gallus grinned. I realized I had played into his hands. “Your temper hasn’t changed a bit. A man who won’t honor his word can’t control his temper. A man without honor, you jump from the skirts of a whore to those of a foreigner.”
We lunged towards one another but were restrained forcefully by our friends.
“I suggest you learn control,” Gallus said, “because I’ve not forgotten what you did to my father.”
“Just stay away from Eleyne!” Although I could have broken Vespasian’s powerful grip, something inside said the time was not right.
“Oh, I will,” Gallus responded with a sinister grin, “but you haven’t seen the last of me.”
Senator Camillus and his companions urged him to leave, and he staggered, with their help, between the groups of onlookers.
People drifted away, as Sabinus and Vespasian stood admonishing me. I apologized for my conduct, and they seemed to understand. I couldn’t remember when anyone had enraged me as much as Gallus. The animosities of our fathers had carried over to a new generation, and now we were enemies for life.
“It’s all my fault,” a tearful Eleyne cried. “Trouble follows me wherever I go. Now I’ve lost Candra. Oh, Lord Sabinus, I’ve been nothing but grief to you.” Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks as she caught my eyes. “Darling, how can you marry me?”
“Eleyne, it wasn’t your fault,” Sabinus said. “Candra was a loyal slave, and I’m sorry to imprison him.”
“Yes, I know. Why did Gallus act so horribly with me? I don’t understand.”
“I think I know why,” I said. I told Eleyne and Sabinus the conclusion I’d drawn.
Sabinus stared into the direction in which Gallus had departed before turning back to me. His mouth tightened into a thin line, and he shook his head. “If that’s true, Marcellus, then Gallus is a miserable coward for using Eleyne to discredit you.”
I gestured with on open palm. “It’s the only logical reason that comes to mind. However, he didn’t count on Candra interfering.”
“And Candra is to suffer for it,” Eleyne added bitterly.
The big Indian should have killed Gallus, but I said nothing.
Eleyne stepped closer and placed her soft hand in mine before she asked, “Doesn’t Gallus bring disgrace upon himself by his own conduct? He made a fool of himself.”
“He doesn’t care,” Sabinus said. He looked about, but no one outside of our group was close by. “So long as Pallas and Narcissus are the emperor’s advisors, he can buy respectability whenever it suits his needs.”
Aurelia, who stood nearby, quietly nodded in agreement with her husband.
“Then one day he’ll buy his father’s seat in the Senate?” I asked.
“Since his father was pardoned, he doesn’t have to, it’s hereditary,” Sabinus said. “However, he can’t take possession until he reaches thirty.”
“Then things will get better, at least for a while.” But I didn’t believe my words—a lot could happen between now and then. The whole affair had sobered me.
*
That night as we lay together, a habit we pursued with discreet caution, I held Eleyne gently in my arms. As wagons clattered past in the dark street below, both of us were lost in thought. After making love, she rested her head on my shoulder and stroked my chest with her hand.
“Candra, a gladiator,” she said. I listened silently, knowing she thought of little else. “I hate the games. How can Romans pit one human against another for sport, like animals? I don’t know which is worse—suffering a painful death on the cross or fighting until you’re killed in the circus. Why didn’t they execute him and be done with it?”
“I believe Sabinus thinks Candra can win his freedom.”
“Is that possible?”
“I don’t know, but as long as he remains alive, there’s hope. I’ve no stomach for the games, either. War is one matter, but killing people for the bloodthirsty mob is a terrible waste.”
“It’s horrible. My people never engaged in such barbaric practices. A man died on the battlefield, honorable, not as a blood sport. Yet they call my people barbarians!”
“Candra’s a warrior. He won’t die easily. He’s too skilled and powerful. Many will fall before he does. If the gods are real, maybe he will survive.”
“What an awful way to go. Killing to live isn’t right.”
“He’s a slave, nothing to the Romans. Slaves don’t have rights, they’re cattle.”
Eleyne rolled onto her side, and slowly I massaged her back. “First, it was Karmune,” she said with a bitterness in her voice, “then my father, and now Candra. Marcellus, I don’t want anything happening to you! I couldn’t bear it.”
A quiet moment passed until she turned back and moved closer to me. She snuggled, and I responded anew to her. No man deserved such happiness. We fell into each other’s embrace, soaring to the peak of oblivion. I could never be without her. In my soul, we were man and wife. Nothing could ever change that.
Awakening late in the night, I went quietly to the balcony overlooking the city. Even asleep, Rome was awesome. Cleaner and softer, draped in her cloak of darkness, firelights sparkled like stars. Deep in my thoughts of Roman beauty, wars, and life, I felt Eleyne’s arms glide about my waist and her head rest against my back. She seemed to sense when I needed her. Saying nothing at all, that quiet shared moment alone is one of my most treasured memories. The taste of salt still upon my lips renewed memories of our lovemaking and gave rise to a sudden fear that should we ever part, I would lose this woman who owned my love so completely.
For several minutes we stood quietly. “Marcellus, you know I have never known another man except you,” Eleyne said softly. She paused, as if searching for the right words. “What I mean, was there another woman before me? One you cared for?”
I sighed heavily, not knowing how to begin. I had loved before, deeply. In spite of all that had happened since, I loved Eleyne with all my being, at the very time I had given up hope of ever loving again.
“Yes, there was another, a lifetime ago,” I began, and told her about Kyar.
Afterward, we escaped from our problems, returned to our lovemaking and passion, and drifted peacefully asleep.
Chapter 7: July, 47 AD
As the wedding drew closer, I rented a flat for the two of us in one of Rome’s better apartment buildings. Most of the city’s population lived in decrepit, wooden tenements six or seven stories high. Situated on the first floor, the dwelling was the most desirable and expensive in the building, with ample living space, running water, and quarters for ten slaves—amen
ities lacked by the tenants in the upper floors. Located on Minerva Street, close to the Quirinal where Sabinus lived, I had only a short walk to his mansion.
In March, five months after the banquet, I moved into the new home. Although we were lovers, Roman custom and etiquette prohibited Eleyne from moving in with me until we were married. Although technically no longer a ward of Sabinus and Aurelia, she still did not want to cause them embarrassment or scandal.
I wrote my mother of the forthcoming wedding. We corresponded regularly but had not seen one another in years. Duties with Sabinus kept me from returning home to Abdera, in southern Hispania. Mother’s dislike for cities, plus overseeing the latifundia, prevented her from traveling to Rome. However, she promised to come for the wedding, escorted by Uncle Budar. I looked forward to the gathering of my closest friends and relatives.
*
After moving into the apartment, Sabinus’s steward, Alexias, and I went to the great slave market of the Fora. The place rambled amid the porticoes of the Septa Julia on the Via Lata. Organized like a cattle market, numerous pens and stalls stood beneath the dusty, vermin-infested arcades. Noisy crowds of buyers and spectators elbowed in and out of corrals that reeked of urine. A stale, fleshy odor, as from confined animals, drifted from many of the stalls. At the entrance of each pen, notices written on white boards with red chalk recited the nature of the slaves inside and their hour for sale at auction.
Races of all ages and both sexes from every part of the empire and from the rest of the world were represented. Besides captives of war, they included victims hunted down by slavers. The greatest tragedy were the children, sold by greedy or destitute parents. Laws that prohibited child molesting didn’t include slaves, and rich perverts paid a premium for these little urchins.
Alexias and I entered one of the fetid, wooden pens to examine the chattel. I considered the Greek an excellent judge of human flesh and relied on his advice for such matters. Fettered in chains, the men were stripped except for a loincloth. Men and women were examined like horses. Brothel owners closely scrutinized particularly attractive females, forcing them to disrobe for more humiliating examination prior to purchase. The more fortunate ones, such as Vitellius’s young German mistress, were sold as concubines to members of the nobility.
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