by T. A. Uner
“Welcome again, Tullus,” Eliana said. She was dressed in a lavish pink gown decorated with ivory dove prints; thick tresses of chestnut-colored hair held back by a golden band circling her head. She smiled as Tullus handed her a sealed flagon of wine.
“A special vintage I acquired in Syria.”
“Thank you for your generous gift,” Eliana replied. She handed the wine to one of her servants. After exchanging pleasantries with Eliana Tullus mingled with the guests. A few of them he already knew through previous introductions. Claudius, Caligula’s uncle was there along with his new bride, a woman named Valeria Messalina. Not much was known of her except rumors. Decimus had mentioned once that Messalina was famous for her extravagant parties that featured insatiable amounts of wine and group sex. Of course Decimus was shamelessly oversexed, but Tullus wondered if his friend was speaking through experience. Caligula’s newly-adopted heir Gemellus was also in attendance. He was a sallow-looking boy with a mop of curly blonde hair who resembled a younger version of Caligula. Gemellus was talking to another man Tullus didn’t recognize. One of Eliana’s house slaves pointed out to him that it was one of Senator Remus’s colleagues: a Senator named Marcus Silanus. Tullus politely greeted both Silanus and Gemellus and they nodded in acknowledgement before Tullus felt a large arm fasten itself around his shoulders. When Tullus saw who it was he smiled.
“Tullus, is that you bedecked in that expensive toga? I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Governor Vitellius, It’s been too long, how are you?” Tullus asked his old friend and former commander as they shook hands.
The Governor took a sip of wine and smiled. “I’m well. Visiting Rome to pay my respects to our new Emperor. I hear you’ve become a Centurion in the Praetorian Guard. I always knew you’d go far, Tullus; but if I ever get the chance, I’ll steal you away from the Guard.”
“How is it now in the east with the Parthians?”
Lucius Vitellius grimaced and took another sip of wine. “Shortly after we installed the new Prince, Tridates, there were problems. Apparently the Parthians failed to recognize his leadership and he was forced to flee back to Syria. Now he’s under my protection again.”
“So who now sits on the Parthian throne?”
“Would you believe the same man we deposed of—Artabanus? He returned shortly after we installed Tridates with an army of Scythian mercenaries and seized power again. He doesn’t yet have the power to challenge Rome, but I am under orders from Caligula to negotiate a new treaty so the Parthians don’t decide to cause trouble along our eastern borders again.”
Tullus was amazed at the turn of events; and Vitellius, a man of trenchant wit, immediately read his emotions. “I know what you’re thinking Tullus, all that war and bloodshed to install an incompetent Prince who couldn’t even hold his throne.”
“Who’s to say another leader won’t arise from the ashes to challenge Artabanus?”
Vitellius nodded thoughtfully and said: “With the Parthians there’s never a guarantee. They’ve always been a challenge to deal with since they lie on the fringes of the Empire, but we can always hope for peace and stability…and then there is the power of diplomacy.”
Tullus nodded. He felt confident–Vitellius was a master of diplomacy.
“Now, weren’t you going to tell me the story behind your disdain of horses, Tullus?”
Vitellius asked anxiously.
Tullus held back a grimace. “Governor, I feel a pang of hunger coming on, would you
please excuse me for a moment?” Vitellius nodded indifferently while Tullus moved off toward the other guests.
The smell of cooked onions greeted Tullus’ nostrils and made his stomach growl. Slaves paraded platters of fresh fruit in front of various couches where guests were reclining. Mounds of roast venison drenched in herb sauce were brought from the kitchen and all eyes descended upon it, while in the background a slave played a melodic harp. Laughter erupted from Claudius’ wife Messalina, who apparently found Governor Vitellius’ tales humorous. After sampling the venison Tullus found a couch and reclined lazily near Marcus Silanus. The Senator smiled at Tullus while they both drank wine.
“Are you enjoying the party, Centurion?” Silanus asked.
“Oh, I am Senator, I am,” Tullus replied, feigning excitement.
“I’ve served in the senate for a long time,” Silanus said as he lowered his voice, “I know when someone is not speaking frankly with me.”
Tullus cast a wan smile at Silanus. “I guess I’m a bit concerned about the future of the Empire.”
Silanus waved over a slave carrying a flagon of wine who refreshed both their cup. “And why is that? Our new Emperor is young and filled with vigor. I know him personally; after all he was once married to my daughter Junia, before she passed away.”
“I’m sorry to hear that Senator.”
“As was I, Centurion.”
Tullus decided to tread carefully around Silanus. One wrong word could put him under suspicion. Even though he was a Praetorian Guardsman, he still needed choose his words carefully in public, despite his suspicions of Caligula’s ascent to the throne.
“Perhaps I am acting paranoid.”
“Nonsense,” Silanus replied. “It is natural to feel a bit of caution under new leadership. Besides, Tiberius was old and way past his prime–his time had come.”
But how did Tiberius meet his end? Tullus wondered.
“I hear you were part of the entourage that travelled to Misenum shortly before Tiberius died. Did you by any chance notice anything strange?”
Tullus placed a grape in his mouth and chewed on it thoroughly while trying to think up a valid response to satisfy Silanus’ question. Was Silanus for, or against Caligula? It was hard to tell with this eloquent man.
Before Tullus could answer Eliana arrived. Rescued by the appearance of a goddess; Gods be thanked.
“What on earth are you two talking about?” she asked. Silanus looked up at her and smiled.
“We were talking about our new Emperor. Would you care to join our discussion Eliana?”
Eliana shot Silanus a discerning look. “There will be no talk of politics at this banquet. Shame on you Senator, this isn’t the senate floor.” Eliana said, wagging a finger at Silanus.
Silanus smiled. “My apologies dear Eliana, you’re quite right.” Eliana took Tullus’ arm.
“If you’ll excuse us Senator, I wish to have a word with the Centurion.”
Senator Silanus nodded and returned to his wine. Eliana took Tullus by the hand and led him into the courtyard. Above them, in the night sky, translucent grey clouds floated across a crescent moon.
“I was wondering when we’d have a chance to talk in private,” Eliana said.
“I’m sure any conversation we have will be more palatable than the one I endured moments ago.”
“You look quite handsome in that blue toga of yours Tullus.”
“Thank you; I had it specially tailored for this banquet.”
They stopped in the middle of the courtyard. Eliana ran her hands down the front of Tullus’ chest. He felt a rush of pleasure stab his groin. She kissed him, and he allowed himself the pleasure of dining on her soft pink lips.
Eliana led him across the garden and past the cistern. After clearing the portico they climbed a flight of stairs before they entered her bedroom. The room smelled sweet like flowers in bloom while Tullus’ heart raced like a runaway chariot.
“We won’t be bothered here,” she said before removing her gown. It fell to the floor and revealed her nude body, with only a small silver chain circling her waist. Tullus felt his manhood tighten as he soaked in her beauty and at that moment he wanted Eliana more than anything else in the world.
“You look so beautiful,” Tullus said, he could hardly breathe. He took her in his arms and kissed her again. Her soft lips caressed his mouth like silk sheets.
“Please be gentle with me,” she said, and he understood. Tullus gently laid h
er on her bed before slowly working his tongue over her sex as her passionate moans filled the room. He removed his loincloth and lifted up his toga. Eliana’s eyes widened at the sight of his manhood. She spread her legs and he slowly entered her, first, feeling the resistance of her maidenhead, before he broke through it. After entering Eliana, Tullus felt lightheaded, as an indescribable elation filled his soul. His heart beat faster; he’d never lain with a maiden before. Eliana cried out with pleasure and dug her nails into his back as he slowly worked himself into frenzy while her hips moved rhythmically under him. At first he started slowly but she urged him on until they both reached their climaxes. A shaft of moonlight broke through her window shutters before Tullus rolled off of her. They kissed again. Eliana smiled and said: “We should get back to the party, my love.”
Four/Quattuor
The next few weeks of Tullus’ life were the happiest.
Every spare moment he found was spent in Eliana’s company. They dined at her villa under Adolpha’s watchful eyes before he was formally introduced to Senator Remus. The Senator’s icy reception didn’t surprise Tullus; he was after all below Eliana’s station; and the fact that Tullus’ father had been a winemaker did little to sway the Senator in his favor. But Tullus didn’t care. Sometimes he woke later in the day, and neglected some of his duties– much to the chagrin of Norbanus; other times he ignored reprimanding Guardsmen who were too busy playing dice instead of guarding the palace. Even Decimus expressed surprise at Tullus’ strange behavior, and had asked around to see if Tullus had discovered a new brothel in Rome that he hadn’t heard about.
On a warm spring day picnicking in the countryside outside Rome, Tullus’ head lay in Eliana’s lap while her fingers coursed through his hair, tickling his scalp.
“I could lay here forever,” he said, staring up at the clear blue sky.
“Really?” Eliana giggled. “It’s a good thing I’m a patient woman.”
“Can life be this peaceful? Free of conflict or politics?”
Eliana stroked Tullus’ cheek. “My dear, where love exists, war doesn’t.”
“Now I know that firsthand. But what would I do without war? I have no other skills apart from wielding a sword.”
“You have other skills Tullus,” Eliana said, and they both laughed before making love underneath a tree. A wren clinging to a branch sang a melancholy tune which eased Tullus out of his joyous mood.
“What’s wrong?” Eliana asked as they dressed.
“I think I’m going to leave the Praetorian Guard,” Tullus said. He fastened his sword belt around his waist.
“What would you do?” Eliana looked concerned.
“I don’t know. That’s the problem. Now that we’re together, I see there’s more to life than patrolling the palace and serving as an unwilling pawn in Norbanus’ political games. All my life I’ve been a free man, yet, I have no more freedom than a common house slave.”
Eliana looked at him compassionately and nodded.
After they had dressed he led her over to her mare before taking the creature’s reigns and leading them back to Rome.
“I still don’t know why you refuse to ride horses Tullus, it seems so silly, really.”
“Maybe to you, but not to me.”
“Tell me why you don’t ride horses.”
“An incident I experienced as a boy keeps me away from them. Only Decimus knows why I dislike horses, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“You’re impossible sometimes,” Eliana said.
“I suppose that’s why you love me so much.”
After escorting Eliana back to her villa, Tullus strolled back to the Palace where he found Decimus and another Guardsman named Titus Fabius drinking wine and playing a game of tabula on the palace steps.
“There’s the happy loverboy,” Decimus said. He and Titus looked up from their game before Tullus urged them to return to their gambling.
“Judging by your smile I take it you’re winning again?” Tullus said.
Decimus let out a loud belch and grinned. “Titus here has already lost a day’s worth of wages.”
“Piss off Decimus,” Titus replied, “the game is still young.”
“I must speak to you Decimus…in private,” Tullus said.
The two men paused their game and looked up at Tullus again. “Can it not wait Centurion?” Decimus asked, “As you can see I’m winning.”
“I’m afraid it cannot.”
Titus stood up and sighed. “Fortuna left me a long time ago.” He reached into his leather belt pouch and tossed a gold aureus at Decimus. “May the whores rot your cock Decimus.”
Titus stalked off, leaving Tullus and Decimus alone.
“So what’s so important?”
Tullus sat down on a step while Decimus counted his winnings.
“I’m leaving the guard Decimus.”
Decimus dropped the coins and shot Tullus a baleful look. “The Senator’s daughter has really grasped you by the cock.”
“Its more than that you oversexed fool. For the first time in my life I feel like there’s something more to life than what I’ve been doing all these years.” Tullus stood up as Decimus finished pocketing the coins.
“What would you do? Where would you go? Soldiering is all you’ve known since you
were a boy.”
Tullus knew Decimus could be painfully frank at times. “I know, but maybe I could find
another job. Or perhaps Eliana’s father could find me a position within the government.”
Decimus guffawed. “The government? I thought you disliked politics? Besides, Senator Remus likes you as much as a bucket of warm goat piss. I doubt he’d lift a finger to help you.”
“But what could I do?”
Decimus smiled. “Love can be cruel sometimes, Tullus.”
{II}
The alleyway Norbanus walked through smelled like cat piss and rotten vegetables and he covered his mouth to prevent himself from vomiting. His movements were masked by the darkness: since his message was too urgent to risk detection in daylight. If word spread that a Praetorian Tribune was seen speaking to the infamous Camus Scorpio suspicion would mount against him. Alone, he risked his life on these dangerous streets by neglecting to bring his personal guard. He had already been assailed once tonight by two would-be thieves, but his sword had chased them off. A beggar approached him; Norbanus noticed it was a small girl wrapped in a dirty cloak. “Alms for the needy…please?” she said in a tired, squeaky voice.
Norbanus smiled at the child. “How old are you, my sweet?”
“Eight years old, dear sir.”
Norbanus reached into his money pouch and dropped five gold aurei into the girl’s palm.
“Now run along my sweet,” he said. “Make sure no one steals this from you. If you need more money come to my villa on the Caelian hill–ask for Tribune Norbanus Forticus Blandus.”
The girl bowed politely before thanking Norbanus. He smiled as she ran off into the night.
Dear Gods, please watch over that blessed child, he thought.
After passing a row of closed shops, Norbanus collected his thoughts and found the doorway to Scorpio’s hall. He knocked on the door and waited a few moments before a small framed panel slid open, revealing a pair of callous eyes. “Password,” a gruff voice ordered as Norbanus waited impatiently at the door.
“This is Norbanus, let me in.”
The eyes grew slanted and eyed him with disdain. “I still need the bloody password.”
Norbanus sighed. “The fat woman spreads her legs,” he said. The eyes disappeared and the panel slammed shut. Moments later Norbanus heard a key unlocking the door before it swung open, revealing the owner of the eyes: an obese man with multiple chins, wearing a tight-fitting tunic which barely held his belly in check. He held a torch in his hand and stepped aside so Norbanus could pass through the doorway. Norbanus glared at the fat man acrimoniously. “Next time, don’t make me wait.”
Th
e fat man did not appear vexed by Norbanus’ verbal riposte. “Sorry Tribune, Camus’ orders—security he says.”
Norbanus wrapped his cloak tighter around him. “Take me to Scorpio.”
“Camus is sleeping right now; I don’t think he’d be happy if we disturbed him.”
“I don’t care if he’s in the middle of a fuck; we have urgent business to discuss.”
The fat man shook his head ruefully and motioned for Norbanus to follow him. They made their way through a narrow corridor until they reached another door. The fat man fumbled for his keys with one hand while trying to hold the torch with the other. He managed to unlock the door and Norbanus found himself in a large hall filled with rows of wooden tables where groups of rough-looking men were asleep, their heads resting peacefully over their folded arms, while a large-breasted serving wench was cleaning up behind a bar.“I told you, everyone’s asleep.”
“Take me to Scorpio,” Norbanus repeated. The fat man sighed and led him to one of the tables where a long-haired man was hunched over the table-top, sleeping.
“Camus,” the fat man said, “Camus, there’s someone here to see you.” When that failed to awaken Scorpio the fat man put his lips to Scorpio’s ear and spoke again. “Camus there’s someone here to see you.” Scorpio pounced on the fat man and grabbed him by the throat. A dagger appeared in Scorpio’s other hand, the polished blade prickling the fat man’s throat.
“Why did you wake me?” Camus Scorpio said. He reluctantly released the fat man from his grip and ran his hand through his long, black hair, revealing a thick chain necklace and two hoop earrings. A milky cobweb-shaped scar sprawled across the middle of his forehead and stopped above his right eyelid.
“The Tribune forced me to, Camus,” the fat man howled, waking a nearby man who lifted his head and grumbled before returning to sleep.
