by Unknown
After the ceremony, there were the usual celebrations and games in our honour. Helena delighted in all the panoply of rank; in this she resembled her brother. I was merely dutiful and did what was expected of me. A few days after the ceremony I was summoned to an audience with Eusebia.
"What do you think of the world now?" Eusebia's eyes gleamed with mischief.
"I owe it all to you," I said warmly.
"And how do you find Helena?"
"She is my wife," I said formally; again the conspiratorial look.
"She is very… handsome," said Eusebia, with an edge of malice.
"Noble, I should say." I almost burst out laughing. But there is a rule to these games.
"You will leave soon."
"I'm glad," I said. Then added, "Not that I look forward to leaving…" I could not say "you" so I said "Milan".
She shook her head. "This is not your sort of place. It's not mine either, but…" She left what was serious unsaid. Then:
"You will go into winter quarters at Vienne. Money…"
"Will be scarce." The Grand Chamberlain had already told me that I would have to maintain myself and household on my salary as Caesar. Additional funds could not be granted at this time.
"Luckily, you are frugal."
"Helena is not."
"Helena has her own money," said Eusebia sharply. "She should use it. She owns half of Rome."
I was relieved to hear this, and said so.
"It is my hope," said Eusebia, "that you will soon have a son, not only for yourself but for us."
I admired her boldness. This was the one thing Eusebia did not want me to have, since it would endanger her own position. Rather than accept my son as his heir, Constantius was capable of divorcing Eusebia and taking a new wife who could give him what he most desired.
"It is my hope," I answered evenly, "that you will be blessed with many children."
But she did not believe me either. The interview now turned painful. No matter what either of us said, it sounded false. Yet I believe she did indeed wish me well, except in that one matter. Finally, we got off the subiect and she revealed to me the state of Constantius's mind. "I speak to you candidly." An admission that neither of us had been speaking candidly before. The sad face looked sadder still, while her long hands nervously fingered the folds of her robe. "He is divided. He cannot make up his mind about you. Naturally, there are those who tell him that you wish to overthrow him."
"Not true!" I began to protest, but she stopped me.
"I know it is not true."
"And it never will be true!" I believed myself.
"Be tolerant. Constantius has had to face many enemies. It is only natural that he fear you."
"Then why won't he let me go back to Athens, where I am no danger?"
"Because he needs you more than he fears you." She looked at me, suddenly frightened. "Julian, we are in danger of losing all Gaul."
I stared at her dumbly.
"This morning Constantius had a message from the praetorian prefect at Vienne. I don't know what it said. But I suspect the worst. We have already lost the cities of the Rhine. Should the Germans attack this winter, it is the end of Gaul, unless…" She held her hand above the flame of the alabaster lamp. The flesh glowed. "Julian, help me!" For a stupid moment I thought she had burned her hand. "You must be loyal to us. You must help us!"
"I swear by all the gods, by Helios, by…"
She stopped me, unaware that in my sincerity I had sworn by the true gods. "Be patient with him. He will always be suspicious of you. That is his nature. But as long as I live, you are safe. If something should happen to me…" This was the first inkling I had that Eusebia was ill. "Be loyal to him anyway."
I forget what I said. Doubtless more protestations of loyalty, all sincere. When I rose to go, she said, "I have a gift for you. You will see it on the day you leave."
I thanked her and left. Despite all that Eusebia did to hurt me in the next two years, I still love her. After all I owe her not only the principate but my life.
• • •
At dawn on the first of December I left Milan for Gaul. I said farewell to Helena, who was to join me later at Vienne. We both behaved according to the special protocol the eunuchs have devised governing a Caesar's farewell to his new wife as he goes to a beleaguered province. Then, accompanied by the newly arrived Oribasius, I went down to the courtyard of the palace to place myself at the head of my army.
Outside in the frosty air, some three hundred foot soldiers and a score of cavalry were drawn up. I took this to be my personal bodyguard. I was about to ask the whereabouts of the army of Gaul when I was joined by Eutherius. He was frowning. "I've just spoken to the Grand Chamberlain. There has been a last-minute change in plans. Your legions have been assigned to the Danube."
I indicated the men in the courtyard. "Is this my army?"
"I am afraid so, Caesar."
I have never in my life been so angry. Only the arrival of Constantius prevented me from saying the unsayable. I saluted the Emperor; gravely, he returned the salute. Then he mounted a black horse and I mounted a white one. His personal guard (twice the size of my "army") fell into place behind him. My troops and household brought up the rear. Thus the Augustus and his Caesar launched the power of Rome against the barbarians. It was ludicrous.
The few citizens who were up and around at this hour cheered us dutifully. We made a particularly fine impression at the vegetable market which is just inside the city gate. The farm women waved their carrots and turnips at us, and thought us a brave sight.
Neither Constantius nor I spoke until we were out on the main road, the high Alps visible to us across the Lombard Plain. He had agreed to escort me as far as the two columns which stand on either side of the road midway between Lumello and Pavia. He had obviously decided this would give us sufficient time for a good talk. It did.
Constantius began with, "We have great confidence in Florentius, our praetorian prefect at Gaul." This was an announcement; there was no invitation for me to comment.
Of course he has confidence in Florentius, I thought savagely, otherwise he would have had him murdered by now. But I said,
"Yes, Augustus." And waited. We rode a few more yards. Occasionally, our armoured legs touched, metal striking metal, and each would shrink instinctively from the other. The touch of another man has always disturbed me; the touch of my father's murderer alarmed me.
We passed a number of carts containing poultry; they had pulled off the road at our approach. When the peasants saw the Emperor, they fell fiat on their bellies, as though blinded by the sight of that sacred figure. Constantius ignored them.
"We are fond of our sister Helena." This was also launched upon the dry cool air in an oracular tone.
"She is dear to me, too, Augustus," I replied. I was afraid he was going to lecture me on my marital duties, but he made no further mention of Helena.
Constantius was constructing a case. His occasional fiat sentences, suitable for carving in marble, were all part of an edifice created to contain me. I was to obey the praetorian prefect of Gaul, even though as Caesar I was his superior. I was to remember that Helena's first loyalty was to her brother and ruler, not to her husbafid. So far, I understood him clearly.
"We have heard from your military instructor that you show promise."
"I shall not fail you, Augustus. But it was my understanding that I was to go to Gaul with an army, not an escort."
Constantius ignored this. "You have come to soldiering late. I hope you are able to learn what you will need to know."
This was not optimistic, but not unnatural. There was no reason for anyone to suspect that a philosophy student should show any talent for war. Curiously enough, I had every confidence in myself because I knew that the gods would not desert me now they had raised me up. But my cousin had no way of knowing my feelings, or judging my capacity. He merely saw a young untried soldier about to go into battle against the fiercest fi
ghters in the world.
"At all times remember that we are divine in the eyes of the people and sacred to heaven."
I took the "we" to mean Constantius and myself, though he may have been merely reminding me of his own rank. "I shall remember, Augustus." I always called him by his proper title, though he much preferred Lord, a title I despise and do not use for it means that one is the master of other men, rather than simply first among them.
"Control your generals." Though he still sounded as if he were repeating maxims, I could tell that now he was on the verge of actual advice, if not conversation. "No officer should be admitted to senatorial rank. All officers must be under strict civilian control. Any governor of any province outranks any general sent to him. No officer must be allowed to take part in civil affairs. Our praetorian prefects are set over all military and civil officials. That is why the administration of the empire runs as smoothly as it
Needless to say, I did not remark that the collapse of Gaul was hardly a sign of smooth administration. But in principle Constantius's advice was good and I tend still to follow it. There is no denying that he had a gift for administration.
"In matters of taxes, take whatever is owing us. Show no mercy to the cities and villages which are delinquent in meeting payments. It is their nature to complain. Assume that your taxgatherers are honest unless proved otherwise. They are never honest, but no one has yet found a way to correct their abuses. As long as they return to you the larger part of what they collect, be satisfied."
I was later to revise the system of taxation in Gaul, disproving everything he said. But all that in its proper place.
"Control the generals." He repeated this suddenly as if he'd forgotten he had already said it to me. Then he turned and looked at me for the first time that day. It was startling. No longer was he the sun god on his charger. This was my cousin, my enemy, my lord, source of my greatness and potential source of my death.
"You must know what I mean," he said, sounding like a man, not an oracle. "You have seen the state disrupted. Our high place threatened. Provinces wrecked. Cities destroyed. Armies wasted. The barbarians seizing our lands, because we were too busy fighting one another to protect ourselves from the true enemy. Well, Caesar, remember this: allow no general sufficient power to raise an army against you. You have seen what I have had to suffer. Usurper after usurper has wasted our power. Be on your guard."
"I will, Augustus."
Then he said, very slowly, his eyes on mine, "As I am on my guard." He looked away when he saw that his meaning was quite clear. Then he added for good measure, "We have never yet lost so much as a foot of earth to any usurper, nor will we ever."
"As long as I live, Augustus, you shall have at least one arm to fight for you."
We rode until midday. Then at the two columns we stopped. It was a fine brisk noon and, despite the chill in the air, the sun was hot and we were all sweating under our armour. A halt was ordered.
Constantius and I dismounted and he motioned for me to accompany him into a hard stubbled field. Except for our troops, no one was in sight. In every country peasants vanish when they see armed men coming: all soldiers are the enemy. I wish one could change that.
Constantius walked ahead of me towards a small ruined shrine to Hermes which stood at the edge of the field (a favourable omen, Hermes has always watched over me). Behind us, our men watered horses, rearranged armour, swore and chattered, pleased by the good weather. Just as Constantius entered the shrine, I broke a dead flower off its stalk. Then I followed him inside the shrine, which smelled of human excrement. Constantius was urinating on the floor. Even in this, he was grave and majestic.
"It is a pity," I heard myself saying, aware as I spoke that I was breaking protocol, "what has happened to these old temples."
"A pity? They should all be torn down." He rearranged his clothes. "I hate the sight of them."
"Of course," I muttered.
"I shall leave you here," he said. We stood facing one another. Though I deliberately stooped, I could not help but look down on him. He edged away from me, instinctively searching for higher ground.
"Whatever you need, you shall have. Call on me. Also, depend on our praetorian prefect. He represents us. You will find the legions of Vienne alert, ready for a spring campaign. So prepare yourself."
He handed me a thick document. "Instructions. To be read at your leisure." He paused. Then he remembered something. "The Empress has made you a gift. It is with your baggage. A library, I believe."
I was effusive in my gratitude. I said words but Constantius did not listen. He moved to the door. He paused; he turned; he tried to speak to me. I blushed. I wanted to reach out and take his hand and tell him not to fear me, but I did not dare. Neither of us was ever able to face the other.
When Constantius finally spoke, his voice broke with tension.
"If this should come to you…" Awkwardly he gestured at himself to indicate the principate of the world. "Remember…"
Then his voice stopped as if a strangler's thumb had blocked the windpipe. He could not go on. Words had failed him again, and me.
I have often wondered what it was he meant to say; what it was I should remember. That life is short? Dominion bitter? No.
Constantius was not a profound man. I doubt if he had been about to offer me any startling insight. But as I think back on that scene in the ruined shrine (and I think of it often, I even dream of it), I suspect that all he meant to say was, "Remember me." If that is what you meant, cousin, then I have, in every sense, remembered you.
Constantius left the shrine. As soon as his back was to me, I placed the withered flower on the profaned floor and whispered a quick prayer to Hermes. Then I followed the Emperor across the field to the road.
Once mounted, we exchanged formal farewells, and Constantius rode back to Milan, the dragon banner streaming in the cool wind before him. We never saw one another again.
Caesar
X
At Turin, as I received city officials in the law court, a messenger arrived from Florentius, the praetorian prefect of Gaul. The prefect thought that the Caesar should know that some weeks ago Cologne had fallen to the Germans, and the Rhine was theirs. The military situation was, Florentius wrote with what almost seemed satisfaction, grave. The German King Chnodomar had sworn to drive every Roman from Gaul within the year. This was the bad news Constantius had not told me.
While the reception continued, Oribasius and I withdrew to the prefect's office to study the report. For some inexplicable reason the only bust to adorn the room was that of the Emperor Vitellius, a fat porker who reigned several months in the year of Nero's death. Why Vitellius? Was the official a descendant? Did he admire the fat neck, the huge jowls of the man who was known as the greatest glutton of his day? To such irrelevances does the mind tend to fly in moments of panic. And I was panicky.
"Constantius sent me here to die. That's why I was given no army."
"But surely he doesn't want to lose Gaul."
"What does he care for Gaul? As long as he can have his court, his eunuchs, his bishops, what more does he need?" This was not accurate; in his way, Constantius. was a patriot. But in my bitterness there was no stopping me. I denounced Constantius recklessly and furiously. I committed treason with every breath. When I had finished, Oribasius said, "The Emperor must have a plan. It can't be that simple. What are those instructions he gave you?"
I had forgotten all about the packet I had been given on the road to Turin. It was still in my wallet. Eagerly, I undid the fastenings. I read quickly, with growing astonishment. "Etiquette!" I shouted finally, throwing the document across the room. "How to receive an ambassador. How to give a dinner party. There are even recipes!" Oribasius burst out laughing, but I was too far gone to find any humour in the situation."We'll escape!" I said at last.
"Escape?" Oribasius looked at me as if I had gone mad.
"Yes, escape." Curious… I never thought I would be able to write any
of this. "We can desert together, you and I. It will be easy. Nothing but a piece of cloth to throw away." I tugged at the purple that I wore. "Then we let our beards grow, and back to Athens. Philosoph7 for me, medicine for you."
"No." He said it flatly.
"Why not? Constantius will be glad to see the end of me."
"But he won't know it's the end of you. He'll think you have gone to plot against him, raise an army, become usurper."
"But he won't find me."
Oribasius laughed. "How can you hide in Athens? Even with a new beard and student's clothes, you are the same Julian everyone met a few months ago with Prohaeresius."
"When it won't be Athens. I'll find a city where I'm not known. Antioch. I can hide in Antioch. I'll study with Libanius."
"And do you think Libanius could hold his tongue? His vanity would betray you in a day."
Libanius: I shall say here that I never found Oribasius particularly sympathetic. Apparently, he felt the same about me. He is of course very famous nowadays (if he is still alive); but medical friends tell me that his seventy-volume encyclopedia of medicine is nothing but a vast plagiarism from Galen. After Julian's death, he was exiled and went to the court of Persia, where I am told he is worshipped by the Persians as a god; he must have enjoyed this, for he was always vain. Also avaricious: he once charged me five gold solidi for a single treatment for gout. I could not walk for a month after.
Julian Augustus
"Then I shall find a city where no one has ever seen me or heard of me."
"Farthest Thule. Wherever you go, officials will know who you are."
"Complete disguise? A new name?"
"You forget the secret agents. Besides, how will you live?"
"I can teach, become a tutor…"
"A slave."
"If necessary, why not? In a proper household, a slave can be happy. I could teach the young men. I would have time to write, to lecture…"
"From the purple to a slave?" He said it with slow cold wonder.
