She pulled back and looked at me. “So it was them? The Christians?” She could not keep the delight out of her voice.
“Yes,” I said. “They kindly provided the proof we needed, conveniently in writing.”
“Whose writings?”
“Oh, various leaders.”
“That Paul man?”
“That was one of them, yes.” His writings were the bulk of the proof, but I need not tell her that.
“I told you so! I told you he was bad, but you wouldn’t listen and let him go. You let him walk out of the room, pronounced him not guilty and free to go.”
“He wasn’t guilty of anything at that point. We don’t condemn a man for something he might do. If that were so, every person on earth would be locked up.”
“Maybe they ought to be.” She stood up and crossed her arms as she did when she was feeling stubborn.
I stood up with her and put my arms around her. “‘Every person’ means you as well as them. I don’t think you would like your cellmates; your dainty nose would find them offensive.”
We walked over to the window on the side where full darkness had fallen. The grounds were now almost empty, as the bulk of the refugees had been resettled. “This grieves me,” I said. “But once it is over, the Fire will truly be in the past.”
“It will become just part of history,” she said. “And history will forget these Christians soon enough.” She rubbed my hands. “Do not be downcast, my love. We are facing a new day for Rome.”
Before I left, she motioned Sporus to come over. As always, his startling resemblance to Poppaea was unnerving, as if I were seeing double from too much wine.
“Sporus, the emperor is weary tonight. Please ask Hesperos to rise and come over here,” she said.
Sporus nodded and fetched the barbiton player.
“Hesperos, I release you for now,” Poppaea said. “The emperor is sad tonight; let your music be the remedy. For your melodies can soothe an aching heart as none other.”
“I believe that is true,” I told him. Interesting that Poppaea understood I needed to be alone, but not completely alone. But then she understood everything about me.
* * *
• • •
Over the next few days Hesperos was a great comfort to me. Orpheus could tame wild beasts with his lyre, they say, and other gifted artists were said to do the same. My ears were particularly sensitive to the sounds of the cithara with its many strings, which was why even as a child I had been drawn to the instrument and was now an acknowledged master on it. But the skill of Hesperos was another matter altogether, as his instrument was quite different from the traditional cithara. For one thing, it was longer and bigger. So as he sat playing, absorbed in his own world, the deep resounding notes softened the ugly dispatches from Tigellinus with the latest news about the investigation.
The original captives had named others, and those had named others, so now there was a large contingent of people accused of being Christians. They were being held and questioned by Tigellinus and his agents.
“And here are more of them,” Tigellinus said one afternoon, marching into the room and dumping down a burlap sack, its sides bulging with tablets. “We have a nice number now. Enough to provide entertainment for the crowds who will cheer to see the wicked arsonists get what they deserve.” He picked up the sack again and shook it. “Aren’t you going to look at these? I went to a lot of trouble to compile the lists.”
“Later,” I said, not wishing to look at them, ever.
“They are eager to embrace martyrdom,” he said, shaking his head. “They won’t make a bargain, won’t denounce their leaders, won’t give up loyalty to this dead prophet.” He shrugged and helped himself to a plate of fruit without permission. I glared at him, and he put the apple back down.
“In some ways they are to be envied,” I said.
“What, being criminals?”
“No, having something so precious that it overrides all else in your life, even your life itself.” There were times when I felt that way about my music, but did I really? To that extent? So I would give up everything to pursue it, toss over the emperorship? Sadly, I knew the answer. No, not that much. Almost. But not that much.
“They can be persuasive,” said Tigellinus. “Especially that man Paul. One of the captives told me that when Paul was held a prisoner in Judea by prefect Festus and had an opportunity to address King Agrippa, he was so eloquent Agrippa said, ‘You come close to persuading me to be a Christian.’” He laughed. “Did he have that effect on you?”
“No, but he was able to convince me we were very similar.”
“That’s his secret,” said Tigellinus. “He can become all things to all men. He even admits it, in one of his tedious writings.”
“What are the ones being held doing?” I asked. Paul wasn’t among them, I assumed. We would know if he was.
“Praying. Some are singing. Singing!” He laughed again. “They don’t sing well. They are painful to hear.”
The sweet, beguiling sounds of the barbiton sounded in the background, as if to make a point.
“I will read the dispatches later tonight,” I told Tigellinus. “And after that, we must stipulate the punishments and prepare the venues.” Get it over with.
He nodded and took his leave.
After he was gone, I stood up and went over to Hesperos. He looked up, waiting for me to speak. When I did not, keeping silent, he said softly, “Would you like me to teach you to play this?”
“Yes,” I said. Teach me to play this, let me lose myself in beauty, go into that world that means as much—almost—as the imagined one of the Christians. Let me escape this soiled and fallen one, if only for tonight.
* * *
• • •
The evidence was in, and before I called the Consilium to meet, I summoned my close advisers and administrators to discuss the action we must take. I wanted to sound them out before presenting conclusions to the larger body.
They filed in, filling the private room, some dozen of them. Most people had returned to Rome now and started either rebuilding or reclaiming their homes, if spared. I welcomed them, inquiring politely about their situations but itching to get to the real business. Finally the formalities were over and I could.
“The mystery is solved,” I announced. “We know who started the Fire, and why.”
“I thought you said it was an accident,” said Faenius Rufus. “Every time you were asked, that is what you claimed.” He did not smile, and I took his statement as a challenge. This was not auspicious.
“That is what I believed at the time. Now I know better.”
Tigellinus stepped forward, standing at my right hand. “The emperor had questioned why people were throwing burning brands into houses, hindering the firefighters. Didn’t you observe that, Nymphidius?”
Nymphidius nodded. “Yes, I did. They moved in groups.”
“I heard some calling out the name of their patron, Jesus,” I said. “Since then I have learned more about this man and his followers.”
“For one thing, he’s dead!” said Epaphroditus.
“So how can he issue orders?” asked Subrius Flavus.
“Apparently being dead is no hindrance,” said Tigellinus with a laugh. “Not to him! He continues to speak to his followers. He tells them to help bring about the end of the world by fire. That is what they believed they were doing.”
“The Christians,” said Phaon.
“They even restarted the Fire in my estates,” said Tigellinus, “to throw blame on me and the emperor. They are in back of the vile slander that he started the Fire.”
“But—” began Subrius.
“They have confessed!” said Tigellinus.
“And I have studied their writings, which confirms it,” I said. “They are guilty. Guilty of murder, b
lasphemous attacks on the Roman gods, and destruction of property.”
“The punishment must fit the crimes,” said Tigellinus. “What is the traditional Roman penalty for arson? Being burned. What is the penalty for desecration of temples and destruction of property? To be thrown to the beasts, damnatio ad bestias. But not just as they are. No, they should reenact the myth closest to the thing they have desecrated.”
They all nodded. This was fitting. This was right.
“These executions are public expiation to our gods for this wrongdoing. When it is over, and they have accepted the sacrifice, the Fire will truly be forgiven and Rome can enter a new age,” I said. “So the venues will be the circus here in the Vatican Fields and the wooden amphitheater spared in the Campus Martius. Burning and crucifixion here, the beasts in the amphitheater.”
The meeting with the Consilium afterward went smoothly. I presented the same information, as did Tigellinus. A few of them—notably Piso, Scaevinus, and Lucan—asked pointed questions, such as demanding to read the transcripts of the confessions and whether the local leaders had been caught and the movement stamped out—but in the end they acquiesced, happy to put it behind them.
Expanding on his earlier announcement about the punishments, Tigellinus said, “Since they destroyed the Palatine temple to Luna Noctiluca that shone through our nights, they themselves shall light up the night for us in recompense. The burning will take place at night, along with the crucifixions. Two in one!”
Murmurs spread through the group, but there was no outright dissent.
“And for the beasts—since the fire destroyed our venerable Amphitheater of Taurus in the Campus Martius, the perpetrators will play the part of Queen Dirce, who was impaled on the horns of a bull. Taurus! Understand? Is that not justice? And for those who destroyed the Temple of Diana, they shall become Actaeon, who was attacked by hunting dogs for insulting Diana. They will be dressed in animal skins and set upon by dogs. Besides that, the statues of the fifty Danaids at the Temple of Apollo were destroyed, and so the criminals must reenact the punishment of those brides, carrying leaking jars, but not in Hades. No, they will do it in broad daylight, while being pursued by wild beasts in the arena.”
People smiled and nodded. This was standard entertainment combined with the execution of criminals, the sort they were used to.
* * *
• • •
The findings and the prescribed punishments were published, and soon a howling mob outside the palace demanded speedy action.
“Kill them! Torture them! Rip them limb to limb! The arena is too good for them!”
I closed the shutters in Poppaea’s apartments, which overlooked the open fields and the mob. But it did little to muffle the sounds outside.
“It has to be soon,” I said. “We cannot endure a lengthy siege of this. And they may grow violent themselves, be as bad as the people they want revenge on.”
“Yes, it must be soon,” she said. “The guilty should not be tortured in advance, by this waiting.”
“They seem to enjoy the waiting.” I had not heard Sporus come up behind us. “They are calm, praying, even preaching to convert others to join them. Can you imagine? Why would anyone join them at this point?” he said.
“Even lost causes gain adherents,” I said. “Perhaps the hopelessness is appealing. It makes people feel noble and brave. What about Thermopylae? They knew they were doomed.”
“But that was for a reason,” said Sporus. “There’s no point to this at all.”
Poppaea shuddered. “Let us stop talking about it.”
A burst of sound came through the shutters. “As long as it is not finished, we will not be in peace,” I said. “That is why we must proceed apace.”
That night, in my inner room, I tried to read poetry, while Hesperos played nearby. He had succeeded in teaching me the fingering on the barbiton, showing me how it differed from the smaller cithara. I broke off and went to sit beside him, studying how he held the base of the instrument.
“You need one of your own,” he said, looking up. “You should commission one.”
“Recommend a maker for me,” I said, running my hand along the base, smooth but slightly curved.
“Damasos of Kos,” he said.
“Kos! It would take forever to receive it.”
“I imagine it could be speeded to the emperor faster than to someone like me.”
“Kos is far away, and it would still have to travel by sea. Don’t you know anyone closer to Rome?”
“There’s Metan in Luceria. But he’s not as good.”
“I don’t need a perfect instrument to learn. So perhaps I’ll order a training one from Metan and by the time I’ve learned, the one from Kos would arrive.”
He smiled. “Perhaps. Tell me, when did you first hear the cithara?”
With pleasure I told him of that magic afternoon in the palace of Claudius and my meeting with Terpnus. “I asked him if I could take lessons from him when I was grown up, and he said yes. Neither of us could have imagined how quickly that would come about.” I paused. “Terpnus survived the Fire, thanks be to all the gods.”
“We must remember the things that were spared, as well as mourn the things that were lost, and be thankful,” he said. “And—”
“Tigellinus requests a meeting with the emperor,” a guard said, hurrying over, interrupting him.
“Let him in,” I said, standing up.
Tigellinus strode in, clutching documents. He thrust them at me. I took them and put them on the desk.
“I suggest you look at these, Caesar,” he said. “It is urgent.”
“Tigellinus, I appreciate your zeal, but it is late.” I had no desire to read documents now.
“At least read this one!” He snatched one from the pile. “Or perhaps you don’t need to. I can tell you what is in it. The net has spread wider and caught more Christians. Just in time for the executions, so we can say we have got most of them. And here’s one, hiding under your aegis. Him!” He rushed over to Hesperos and grabbed him by the shoulder, hauling him up.
“What?” I was dumbfounded.
“He’s one of them. A confessor named him. And there are several more in Poppaea’s household.”
Ignoring Tigellinus, I looked directly at Hesperos. “Is this true?”
“Yes, Caesar,” he said. I was even more dumbfounded.
“But how can that be?” I asked.
“Do you think an artist cannot be a Christian?” he said. “What would prevent that?”
“They are—they are enemies of the state!”
“Do you truly believe those lies put about? We are not enemies of the state—far from it.”
“Then why do people say it?” I pursued the question.
“You should know firsthand that what people say and what is true are not the same. After all, people said you started the Fire. Is that true? No.”
“Take him away!” said Tigellinus, motioning to the guards.
I stopped him. “In my palace, I issue the orders.” I turned to Hesperos. “I know you did not set a fire. You need not join these others. You are innocent.”
“If I do not join them, then I am guilty. Not of starting a fire but of deserting Jesus. And I would rather die than do that. So, call the guards and let me be arrested.”
My head was spinning. This was absurd. Why should he rush to his doom?
“If you feel guilty for abandoning Jesus, why did you not speak up earlier? Why did you keep silent all this time?” Now I had him. Obviously he wanted to live.
He smiled. That otherworldly smile I had seen on Paul’s face. What possessed these people? “Jesus told us, When they persecute you in one town, flee to the next. So we are not to seek persecution. But when it finds us, when it hunts us down, we must stand firm.”
“And what does that
mean?” I asked. I was bewildered.
“Admitting who we are and who we follow. Jesus told us, Everyone who confesses me before men, I will also confess him before my father in heaven. But whoever denies me before men, I will also deny him before my father in heaven. So here I am. I confess before the emperor himself that I follow Jesus. That must count for at least three men.”
“Are you joking?” barked Tigellinus. “Insulting his imperium?”
“Quiet!” I ordered Tigellinus. This was between Hesperos and me. “If you can do no other, then you can do no other. I grieve for you.”
“Don’t grieve for me,” he said. “Grieve for yourself and for Rome.”
Now I truly had no choice. “Take him away,” I told the guards.
He turned to look at me. “I give you my barbiton, with my blessing. No need to wait for one from Kos.”
XVII
That night I sent everyone—except the ever-vigilant guards—away. The barbiton lay on the floor where Hesperos had left it. It looked like a dangerous animal to me, as if it would leap up and attack me. I picked it up and put it in a corner. Would its notes ever be sweet to me again, or always a poisonous reminder of this dreadful event?
The Christians. What a strange group they were, a mixture of violence and idealism, eager to embrace martyrdom. But other religions had barbarous rites—castration for the priests of Attis, human sacrifice for the Druids. Only the Roman one was supremely civilized, humane, orderly—a state religion that did not require soul searching, sacrifice, and pain, and its formal rituals were done in daylight for all to see. We could be proud of that.
I looked around the chamber. This was my refuge, a space no one could enter unless I specifically allowed it. I looked with distaste on the mound of documents that Tigellinus had left. I did not want to open them. I knew what was in them. Not the particulars but the general.
The mob was still outside, still shouting and milling. Forced to close the shutters to shut out their yells, I likewise shut out the warm, seductive breezes of late summer, and the room was hot and still.
The Splendor Before the Dark Page 13
