Empire (31 page)

Titus had looked after the images of his ancestors, and they had looked after him; of that he had no doubt. That was one of the reasons he honored
them on this special day, when the emperor was about to pay him and his family a great honor.

Titus wore his senatorial toga with a purple stripe. His son also wore a toga, a garment he was still not used to. His wife was in her finest stola, a gown of beautifully embroidered ocher linen. Her hair was arranged in the style made fashionable by the emperor’s strikingly beautiful young wife, Poppaea Sabina, with multitudes of ringlets framing her face.

The ceremony was concluded. They retired to the garden to await the day’s events. Nothing in the garden was as beautiful as Chrysanthe, thought Lucius, feeling proud, as he often did, of the choice he had made for a bride so many years ago. Nor was anything in the garden as fragrant as Chrysanthe. “You smell of rose petals and milk,” he whispered in her ear.

She smiled. “Credit the emperor’s wife. Poppaea has made it fashionable for the best women in Roma to bathe in milk.”

“And will you become a Jewess, like the empress?” asked Titus, teasing her. It was widely known that Poppaea had shown favor to the Jews in Roma and had regularly received their scholars and holy men. Some claimed she had secretly converted to the religion.

“No more than you have become a Christian,” said his wife, teasing him back. She gestured to the fascinum, which Titus was wearing to mark the special occasion. Titus did not find this jest particularly funny. It seemed to him that Kaeso must have altered the amulet in some way to make it look even more like a cross. Nevertheless, Titus wore the fascinum openly and proudly, refusing to hide it inside his toga.

There was a knock at the door, followed by a flurry of excitement in the house. Even the slaves were excited, and with good cause. It was not every day that the emperor himself came calling.

Hilarion rushed into the garden. “They’re here, Master!”

“Are they coming in?”

“I think not, Master. The man at the door says you’re to come out and join them.”

“Then we mustn’t keep them waiting.” Titus took his wife by the hand and allowed his son to lead the way.

The retinue in the street was even larger than Titus had expected. There were secretaries and scribes, a troop of Praetorians, several senators
in togas, and even a colorful group of actors and acrobats. In the middle of the retinue, carried by some of the brawniest slaves Titus had ever seen, was a large litter set on gilded poles and decorated to look like a giant swan. A hand adorned by many rings pulled back a purple curtain. Smiling broadly, Nero made a gesture of welcome. Sitting next to him was the beautiful Poppaea, her blond hair done up in an elaborate fashion that Titus had never seen before.

Portable steps were produced. Chrysanthe entered the litter first, followed by Titus and Lucius. They settled amid plush cushions across from the emperor and his wife. Titus felt Chrysanthe tremble and he took her hand. Poppaea smiled at this gesture of intimacy and likewise took one of Nero’s bejeweled hands in hers.

“We’re not pressed for time. I thought we might take a little tour of the city on the way to our destination,” said Nero.

“Certainly,” said Titus. “There’s so much construction going on, all over Roma, I can’t keep up with it.” Actually, Titus was well aware of almost every building project in the city, but the tour would be a treat for Chrysanthe and Lucius, and he was enormously flattered by the emperor’s offer to spend time with his family.

Nero smiled. “My great-great-grandfather famously said that he found Roma a city of bricks and left her clad in marble. I found a city of scorched marble but shall leave her covered in gold.”

As they were carried aloft through the city, Nero proudly pointed out the rapid progress that had been made on reconstructing various temples and public structures. The rebuilding of the Circus Maximus was one of the largest projects; it would be some time before it was ready to reopen, but Nero had plans to make it more splendid and beautiful than before. There were also curiosities to be seen. Up on the Palatine, the ancient Hut of Romulus had been spared by the fire, and though most of the oldest parts of the imperial residence had been burned, the laurel trees flanking the original entrance had survived and remain intact.

“Surely that’s an omen, father,” declared Lucius, overcoming his shyness in front of the imperial couple, especially Poppaea, whose beauty could have intimidated any man.

“It certainly is,” said Titus. “Those trees appear to be indestructible,
immune to both fire and lightning. I believe those two laurel trees will survive as long as there are descendants of the Divine Augustus.”

This comment was clearly appreciated by the imperial couple, who gave each other a loving glance. Poppaea, though not showing it yet, was rumored to be pregnant. Her first child with Nero, a daughter, had died in infancy; Nero had been grief-stricken. Now there was again hope for a new generation directly descended from the Divine Augustus, and an heir for the emperor, who was not yet thirty.

“So many beautiful old houses were lost,” said Nero, pressing his fingertips together while he gazed at the passing view. “But the fire displaced not just the wealthy who lived on the Palatine, but a great many other people as well. I’m told many of those citizens lived in appalling squalor, stacked atop one another with hardly enough room to turn around. Well, we shall build shiny new tenements for them, better than those rattraps they lived in before. That will take time, of course. For now, sadly, many of the homeless are still in temporary shelters on the Field of Mars and at my own gardens across the Tiber. To give the citizens work, I’ve hired a veritable army of bricklayers and day laborers for construction projects all over the city. To feed their families, I’ve repeatedly lowered the price of grain. And to make sure such a catastrophe never occurs again, I’ve introduced new building codes that the experts assure me will reduce the danger of fire—buildings set farther apart, limitations on their height, requirements to keep firefighting implements such as picks and buckets on the premises, that sort of thing. Oh, look there,” he said, pointing to an aqueduct covered with scaffolding. “We’re also repairing and extending the aqueducts that were damaged. There must be cisterns and fountains to ensure an adequate water supply to fight any fire that may occur in the future.”

“Caesar’s swift and steady response to the crisis has been an inspiration to us all,” said Titus.

“Ah, now we’re passing through the very heart of what will become the new imperial complex,” said Nero, grinning with excitement. “This entire side of the Palatine has been cleared and claimed for the new imperial apartments. And down there, in that cleared area that used to be crammed with hideous old buildings, there will be a rather large lake, entirely enclosed within the imperial complex. Won’t that be charming? A private
lake in the heart of the city, surrounded by vineyards and gardens and a little forest stocked with wild deer, so that Poppaea and I may retreat for a stroll in the countryside, or even go hunting, without ever stepping outside the imperial palace, much less the city walls. Of course, the lake will have a practical purpose as well. It will serve as a reservoir, a source of water in the event of fire.”

The creation of the artificial lake was well under way. Hundreds of workers were raking and shoveling great piles of excavated earth, shaping them into the rolling hills that would become the man-made woodland surrounding the lake.

“Along here, on this side of the lake, there will be a vast pavilion with a covered walkway a mile long,” said Nero. “The rooms will be very spacious and finished with the best of everything—imported marbles, fine statuary, ivory screens, and the most sumptuous fabrics. You must see the sketches the designers have made for me. The ceilings will be decorated with gleaming gems and mother-of-pearl, so that at night, by lamplight, it will seem that the starry sky itself has descended to gaze with envy at such splendid rooms. And gold—there must be a great deal of gold everywhere. We shall cover the whole facade with tiles of golden glass, so that it dazzles the eye. The only color that truly pleases me is purple, and the only metal is gold. How I love the weight of it, and the mellow color, like sunlight on water. Like that lovely little golden amulet you’re always wearing, Senator Pinarius.”

Titus touched the fascinum and smiled. “A gift from my ancestors.”

“Yes, I know. Curious-looking thing,” said Nero. He flashed a quizzical smile, then returned his attention to the construction work going on around them. “When the time comes, there shall be a grand ceremony to mark the day that Poppaea and the baby and I move in. I think I shall call it the Golden House. What do you say to that, Senator Pinarius?”

“A splendid name for a splendid house.”

“The only house fit for a person such as myself to live in,” mused Nero. “Ah, we’ve come to the site of the grand courtyard. This will be the main entrance for visitors who come from the Forum. The Sacred Way will terminate at a stairway that ascends to the door of the Golden House. There’ll be other entrances, of course, including Augustus’s old entry on the Palatine, flanked by those ancient laurel trees, but that will be a sort of back
door. The grand courtyard is going to be enormous, surrounded by a portico with hundreds of marble columns. You can’t really appreciate the enormity of it now, cluttered as it is with all these workmen’s shacks. The centerpiece will be that colossal bronze statue going up in the middle, depicting myself. We haven’t yet decided in what guise I should appear. Poppaea thinks I should pose as Hercules, but Zenodorus, the sculptor, thinks I should be Sol, wearing a crown of sunbeams. When it’s finished, the statue will be over a hundred and twenty feet tall—the largest statue since the Colossus that once stood at Rhodes. And unlike that statue, this one will be covered in gold. Can you imagine the splendor of it on a sunny day? People will be able to see it from miles away, and the closer they come, the more dazzled they’ll be. On a sunny day, it will be positively blinding.”

“Truly, Caesar, the new Colossus will be a stupendous monument,” said Titus, amazed anew not just at the extent of Nero’s imagination but at the enormity of his expenditures. A great deal of private property had been seized by the state to allow for the massive expansion of the imperial palace, and a great many temple treasuries from all over the empire had been appropriated to pay for construction and to provide decorations.

In this ambitious enterprise, Titus had played an invaluable role. Auspices had to be taken to seek divine approval for many of Nero’s actions, and religious ceremonies had to be conducted to propitiate the gods whose treasuries were depleted. Titus had faithfully served as Nero’s augur, just as he had once performed the same duties for Claudius. He had volunteered to do so and had performed eagerly and with unswerving loyalty. Since the night he had been transfixed by Nero’s song about the burning of Troy, Titus has become one of the emperor’s most fervent adherents.

The emperor was thankful for his loyal service. The invitation to Titus and his family to accompany the emperor and his wife in the imperial litter was one of Nero’s ways of thanking him.

“I am grateful, as always, to play any part, however small, in Caesar’s grand enterprises,” said Titus.

“Unfortunately, Senator Pinarius, not everyone seems to feel as you do,” said Poppaea. She had been quiet throughout the tour and had even been looking a bit bored; no doubt she had heard Nero speak the same words many times before. Titus, who had met her on several occasions but had never spoken to her privately, was not quite sure what to make of Poppaea,
who always seemed distant and self-absorbed and tended to speak in riddles. Nero was not her first husband; previously she had been married to Nero’s friend Otho. Rumor had it that the three young people had become so intimate that they formed, as one wag put it, “a three-headed love monster.” But ultimately Nero wanted Poppaea all to himself. He forced Otho to divorce her, appointed Otho governor of Lusitania to get him out of Roma, and made Poppaea his wife.

Her remark probably referred to the increasingly widespread rumors of a conspiracy against the emperor. Despite Nero’s energetic response to the crisis and his optimistic plans for the future, a simmering discontent reached across all classes. The fire had been followed by a pestilence that had killed tens of thousands of people, especially among the homeless poor, and the loss of so many religious and historical treasures had thoroughly demoralized the populace. Nero’s vast building projects were intended to replace those lost treasures, but among the wealthy there was a fear that his profligate spending would precipitate a financial crisis. Hostile senators were said to be plotting against him, and among the common citizens, vile rumors claimed that Nero himself had deliberately started the fire so that he could claim vast tracts of ruined real estate for the imperial house and rebuild the city to suit himself.

Unfortunately, and with obvious regret, Nero had found it necessary to banish a number of senators whom he suspected of disloyalty. Among these had been Gaius Cassius Longinus, the senator who had made an impassioned speech to crucify the slaves of Pedanius. Nero had ordered him to remove from his ancestral effigies the wax mask of the Cassius who had assassinated the Divine Julius—a perfectly reasonable request, Titus thought. The senator had refused. Cassius’s exile to Sardinia had caused an outcry among his colleagues, who argued that pity should be shown to a jurist of such renown, especially since he was now completely blind.

Next to him, Titus heard Chrysanthe groan, and then he saw the reason. On a scorched wall, all that remained of a destroyed building, a message had been scrawled in black paint:

Strong and valiant,

He killed his mother

And set my house on fire!

More and more frequently in recent days, Titus had seen such ugly graffiti on walls and in latrinae all over the city. Fortunately, a group of men was in the process of painting over this message and adding their own. Titus craned his neck to see what they were writing, but as the litter moved on all he could make out were the words
Christians
and
burn
.