Julia conscientiously prepared herself. For one thing, she wouldn’t leave the island alone. Her slave Claudia, with her brother in Noricum, would accompany her. She had trusted the young woman in long, nocturnal conversations. Not only had she promised her release, but a friendship had developed between the two women. Julia had to admit that only her changed behavior toward slaves, triggered by some of her beloved’s critical and passionate words, had led her to deal with Claudia eye to eye. Not that there was a culture of slave abuse in her parental home – even her stubborn and quick-tempered mother, Lucia, had always handled the staff correctly, and corporal punishment was frowned upon, and used sparingly, if at all. But nonetheless, it had been the invisible barriers between a free Roman family of noble heritage and slaves, objects of the house, that Julia hadn’t properly considered and questioned before. So many things in her life had changed since she met Thomas Volkert, and that was just another aspect.
A second part of their preparations had been for some time the discrete accumulation of easily transportable riches. Martinus Caius was a generous man, but mostly in the direction of his favorite taverns and whores. Several times Julia had had to vigorously point out her position as his wife – and the costs involved – before Caius let herself be persuaded to provide her with a corresponding budget. But since he otherwise fulfilled all her needs without complaint, she had managed to save the sum. Added to that were some cash and jewelry that she had brought with her and successfully concealed from her husband. Caius had not cared too much either, living the life of a man who had never had any monetary worries and apparently assumed that this condition would never change, no matter how little he intended to do to preserve it. Given the riches that his father had amassed with hard work, he could actually be right there – except if such a minor event as a war came in between, and that was unfortunately the rule rather than the exception in these times.
Julia had filled a small box with coins. She had already taken other, easily transportable possessions aside with the intention of sewing one or the other into her clothes; Claudia had a talent for it. In the casket, she also kept the deed of ownership of Claudia, which would enable her to release her as soon as possible. Added to it was the jewelry, with Julia’s selection focused on easy to sell pieces.
The third and therefore essential aspect of her escape posed her the biggest problem. It was not completely impossible, but in the end, it was unusual, even dangerous, to travel without a male companion. They two easily could become victims of street gangs in these uncertain times, from whose they could escape alive only with luck. It was absolutely necessary to ensure a male escort, alone for the purpose of deterrence. In addition, two women traveling alone attracted far more attention.
Not that the journey was to be far, though Julia thought of going to Constantinople. For one thing, she knew that the capital of the East would become the focal point of future events, and secondly, she was sure she would be able to submerge herself in the metropolis if she kept herself covered. Here she could wait for the developments, sit at the junction of numerous information channels, and would be able to see when Volkert would show up again, so she could get in touch with him.
She didn’t waste a thought about him dying or being already dead. Unknowingly, she already guessed that focusing on a deserter of dubious background might end up being very dangerous and depressing – but like her mother, she was a woman of remarkable stubbornness.
It took her a while to figure out the options available to her on the island. First, there were the male slaves, most of whom worked on the vineyards. She had no direct access to them as a guest of the family, and they would probably be more loyal to their current masters. Julia had to realize that even in her husband’s family, slaves were treated very well and had an undisturbed life as long as they did their work. The operators of the vineyards groaned under the growing shortage of slaves. Previously, their numbers were constantly swelling because the Empire was vigorously expanding. Every campaign had swept tens of thousands of new workers into the realm. But for some time Rome was on the defensive. Some free men were enslaved as punishment, as far as they committed adequate crimes, and some people were born into slavery, which led to a reasonable renewed quantity. But then there had been releases from slavery for many years, especially advocated by stubborn Christians. There were also repeated slave riots and escapes, as the prospects in some areas were not so bad due to the constantly crumbling state authority. At some point, this development had been reflected as a constant, increasing loss in the slave population. Those in need of large numbers of workers showed interest in treating the remaining slaves so well that there was no immediate danger of escape. Regular meals, accommodations that didn’t look like filthy stables, proper clothing, permission to start families, and the guarantee that these families would not be torn apart again by sales – and last but not least opportunities for the educated and hard-working, like scribes, administrators, foremen. All of this helped to ensure that only those with the strongest desire for freedom thought about escaping their lot. Should a slave owner smart and listened to what happened to the people, he identified these people quickly and offered them freedom and subsequent employment before – that was a bit more expensive, but not as expensive, as if the man would’ve disappeared, not least because the prices for useful slaves on the markets had climbed quite high. This was also helped by the transaction tax levied by the Empire under the aegis of Gratian. Thus, the resale of slaves was artificially made more expensive. Trade was severely curtailed and many large manufactories or latifundia were forced to do what this policy ultimately amounted to: renouncing the use of slaves. The second part of the reform – a redistribution of property through rent and compensation – had already been planned when the Civil War had stopped all these ideas from being implemented. The risk was high that social unrest of landless farmers would soon be the biggest problem.
One more reason to leave the rural idyll of the island and to seek the security of the metropolis, Julia decided. She had followed the political and social events very closely. Thomas Volkert had made her pay attention to these things, not least because indirectly her personal happiness depended on her husband’s fate.
In the end, it was, as so often, coincidence that helped Julia find a suitable male companion. And this coincidence presented itself in the form of a veteran of the legion, who returned after 25 years of service to the island of his fathers. He had sold his land, donated by the Emperor, because Gaul seemed too cold and uncertain to him, and approached Julia’s host to ask for work.
Julia saw him, measured his powerful figure with an expert eye, and found him worthy.
It helped that there was currently no suitable place for him to get employment.
And so, a young slave girl stepped in his path and asked him to follow her to her mistress.
8
The Hippodrome was gigantic.
Rheinberg could see everything from the imperial box. He had entered the large oval directly through an entrance from the imperial palace, a long, covered annex that led to the large box on the long southeastern side of the arena. Directly opposite was the main entrance for the common people. In length, the hippodrome measured more than 400 meters, the turns had a width of more than 120 meters. At the southwestern bend, most of the spectators sat in a large semicircle, reminiscent of an amphitheater. Overall, the fully occupied building could accommodate about 40,000 spectators, and as far as Rheinberg could estimate, the capacity would be fully used for the current occasion.
Rheinberg stared at the surging crowd. The impression was indescribable. It was as if the spectators were a single, living organism. He could hear the background noise of the conversations, which would swell to a fanatical crescendo during the race. Now, however, this gigantic creature looked like a predator in wait. It seemed calm, yes, happy, but Rheinberg knew enough about the orchestration of the masses that he guessed how it could be awakened and used for evil purposes.
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br /> And that was ultimately the idea behind the Hippodrome. To make a large amount of people manipulable, to play with their emotions. It would have a central political role in the future of the city.
Or not.
Everything changed at that moment.
The northeastern bend was dominated by an impressive gatehouse, adorned by a mighty quadriga. Through this gate, the chariots came into the oval to set up for the big race.
In addition to the very popular chariot races, there were also festivities and amusements of other kinds. Without a doubt, it was the largest and most impressive structure of its kind in the Empire, next to the Circus Maximus. Ironically, despite his appointment as the highest military leader, Rheinberg had never been able to visit Rome. It spoke for the importance of Constantinople, that the perils of his fate had brought him here first.
Rheinberg sat down. With him were most of the officers who had accompanied him, as well as a good part of the consistory, with Modestus at its head. The crew members of the Saarbrücken, as far as they didn’t stand watch, had been placed directly to the right of the box in a specially reserved seating area.
The most important of his companions, who was still missing, was Renna. Apparently he had stayed with his family and was therefore likely to be late. Rheinberg didn’t mind him. Who knew when they would see their loved ones again next time?
This question did not arise for him as Aurelia sat next to him. She was beautiful in her new robe, with the hair pinned up and some jewelry loaned to her from the imperial chests. A perfect sight, but clouded by the permanent frown and the suspicious glances she cast in all directions. Rheinberg even thought he had seen a knife under her robe, the fine, thin blade with which she had once intended to murder him.
He had to admit that he too carried a weapon, as did the other officers. They all kept them hidden, but less because they believed Aurelia’s suspicions rather than out of habit. The raid on the summer palace, which Rheinberg and Dahms had survived only with difficulty, was a reminder and admonition to them at the same time.
Nevertheless, nothing seemed threatening here.
Slaves brought food and drinks. The view was breathtaking. The ranks filled with expectant spectators, the weather also played along, a cloudless sky with a bright sun ensured almost summerly temperatures. There was an expectant atmosphere over the whole scenery and the program of the performance sounded promising. The highlight was, of course, the announced chariot race, an elimination race with 25 participants in five races of five carts, whose winners would then compete in a final run. In honor of the host, a high amount of gold had been awarded for the winner, a great incentive for the public’s darlings, as well as for ambitious newcomers. Everyone knew that they would see the best that Constantinople racing had to offer, and everyone was looking forward to it.
Aurelia’s frown returned to Rheinberg’s attention.
Good, almost everyone.
Modestus pointed to the balustrade that separated the imperial box from the arena. “My Lord, let us show ourselves to the people!” he declared.
Rheinberg nodded. In the absence of the Emperor, he and Modestus were the highest state dignitaries, and they would have to officially open the games. In addition, special value was attached to this event, so it was necessary to show oneself and thus to signal that the respect that the people had given to the Empire through their presence had been understood. Of course, that was just a ritual. Most of the spectators had come to the arena because the games were free and food was cheap – subsidized by the state –, and many didn’t know what to do with their time anyway. The winter brought trade to a standstill, and that, too, wouldn’t change until the Roman merchant fleet was fully equipped with steam engines. There was little work and a lot of idleness. Since people in such situations often developed strange thoughts, the Hippodrome was not least meant to keep the inactive busy. Bread and circuses. This old motto was still valid, and it would continue forever, even if the nature of the games and the shape of the bread supply were modernized.
They lined up at the barrier so they could be seen well. Respectful silence descended on the arena, then the two men raised their hands in greeting, and there was cheering. Rheinberg took it as a thank-you for a nice, state-funded afternoon. Modestus’ expression seemed strangely immobile, as if the ovations were passing him completely, although his eyes searched the crowd, especially near the lodge. He’d probably done this so many times before, that it had become a more or less annoying routine.
Modestus gave the signal. The trumpeters blew into the large, curved horns, and their not always well-tuned sound echoed over the oval. The cheers grew, because the waiting was over. The gates under the Quadriga were opened. Then, deliberately, slowly, 25 brightly painted, two-wheeled vehicles, steered by strong men, led by two horses each, entered the circular track. The drivers held the reins in one hand, and with the other waved to the crowd and took in all the enthusiasm. All the drivers were dressed up and wore insignia, so they were clearly distinguishable from each other. Some of the men, apparently the darlings of the public, were especially acclaimed, almost frenetically celebrated. Others were more likely to receive general, polite applause. The 25 vehicles made a welcome round around the oval, so that each of the spectators could take a look at the competitors. Then the contestants came to a halt. The exact race plan had previously been made public by posting at the entrances, but the referees made a ceremony of solemnly repeating the division of the different heats.
Rheinberg, Modestus and the other guests of honor had meanwhile settled down. They were served refreshments, which at least the German thankfully refused. He had just finished a sumptuous breakfast.
Again the sound of the trumpets, this time the signal for the first race. The five competitors carefully positioned their cars at the start line, just behind the turn in front of the Quadriga, so they had a long way for acceleration at the beginning. The other 20, who would compete against each other later, left the course.
An expectant silence fell over the racetrack. All eyes turned to the charioteers, who were now holding the reins in both hands, their torsos slightly bent forward, their eyes focused sideways on the referee, who held his right hand with a colored cloth in the air. Only when his arm fell, the race could begin. An early start resulted in immediate disqualification.
The arm descended in a sliding motion.
Screams sounded as the charioteers cheered their horses. The experienced animals knew exactly what was expected of them and sprinted off. Rheinberg watched with fascination how quickly the two-wheeled vehicles took off and raced across the sandy bottom. He had barely looked. Then the leaders already reached the first turn. Dangerously close, the wheels of the cars clipped together as they fought for the ideal cornering. It now became clear who had got the best start. One of the chariots could settle its advantage and wasn’t drawn into the scramble in the curve. Expectant applause erupted.
“Drusus, as you might expect,” one of Modestus’s followers commented, and the others, who knew each other, nodded their approval. Obviously, the man was one of the favorites and did his status justice.
Rheinberg leaned forward. He too was captivated by the exciting race.
The racers were now all in a long straight behind him. The lead of Drusus was not large, just big enough to rush into the bend without crowding. The next four chariots came close together – obviously too close. There was a screeching sound as hubs ricocheted together. A vehicle, squeezed between two competitors, lurched. The charioteer pulled desperately on the reins and tried to escape by braking the clutch, but the centrifugal force of the cornering pressed him more strongly against one of the others. Eventually he lost speed, but it was too late – the car lurched violently, balancing on a wheel for a moment, then, as the chassis crashed to the ground, the axle broke and the horses dragged the frame across the sandy floor. With difficulty, the man brought his animals to a halt. For him, the race was over.
Helpers hurried
down the path to clear the luckless man and his horses, and especially the wreckage of the wagon, as quickly as possible. Races were not paused because of such trivia. If an assistant was not fast enough, that was his misfortune.
Everything was fine. When the four remaining charioteers returned to the area, the way was clear. Drusus had extended his lead on a length and behaved quite relaxed. It was clear that the champion had the better horses. No matter how talented one of these men was, it all depended on how good the animals were, how fast they got started, and how long they could keep up. The two deep-black stallions that Drusus had stretched out in front of his car were well-trained racehorses, probably bred for that purpose, and it seemed they still had enough strength to finish the race victoriously.
The spectators were evidently of a similar opinion. The winner was already determined for them. Hustlers were called in to buy snacks or packaged items were unpacked. In some areas of the auditorium, a picnic atmosphere developed. In others, bookmakers were besieged by competitive spectators, either those hoping for a quick payout for their winnings or those already betting for the upcoming race. All in all, the atmosphere looked tense, but happy as a fair. Bread and circuses. It worked wonderfully.
Rheinberg leaned back. Minutes later, the race was over, Drusus was named the winner, enjoying the applause of the audience. Already while the participants of the first race were led out of the Hippodrome, those of the second race positioned themselves in front of the starting line.
“Lucinius is the favorite in this heat,” one of Modestus’ men said, pointing to a tall man in a blue-painted chariot. “He has been unbeaten in ten races.”
“I bet five denarii on him,” another man confirmed. Of course, the bookmakers were also active here, represented by some silent backstage agents trying to make the most discreet and dignified impression by not half as much gesticulating and yelling as their peers down in the stands.
The Emperor Page 5
