Empire (75 page)

They were discussing the treasury and the means by which it could be
replenished. Taxes were unpopular. Conquest was the preferred means, and had been throughout Roma’s long history, as Plotina pointed out.

“The great generals of the Republic destroyed Carthage and took Spain and Greece. The Divine Julius conquered Gaul; the gold and slaves he captured made him the richest man in history and helped make him the sole ruler of the empire. The Divine Augustus took Egypt, the oldest and richest kingdom in the world. Vespasian sacked Jerusalem and brought back enough gold and slaves to build his amphitheater. When one looks at the map”—she gestured to a painting on the wall—“what remains to be taken of any value, except Dacia?”

“Or Parthia,” said Trajan, stroking his chin and gazing at the vast empire that dominated the far-eastern portion of the map.

“There are dangers, of course,” said Hadrian. “Even the Divine Augustus was thwarted when he tried to make slaves of the Germans. And no Roman has yet succeeded in taking Parthia; the empire is simply too big and too powerful. Dacia seems ripe for the picking, but that, too, presents a risk. Domitian did his best to get the better of King Decebalus and repeatedly failed.”

“That’s because Domitian was a military genius only in his imagination,” said Plotina.

Hadrian nodded. “Certainly, Caesar is a far better military man than Domitian, but is he not also a better diplomat? Rather than attack King Decebalus head-on, perhaps the best strategy would be to win over the king’s neighbors and allies, using statecraft to isolate the Dacians before directly confronting them.”

“The less blood shed by Romans, the better,” Plotina agreed. “Never forget what becomes of Roman soldiers when they’re captured by the Dacians. They’re handed over to the Dacian women, and the tortures inflicted on those poor men are the stuff of nightmares. If the way of conquest can be made easier by diplomacy, all the better.”

“Might we not also send agents to tamper with the Dacians’ religious ceremonies?” suggested Hadrian.

“How would that be of use?” asked Trajan.

“The Dacians’ most important religious ceremony is an event held every five years, at which a youth is sacrificed to their god, Zalmoxis.”

“I’ve never heard of him,” said Plotina.

“Nor have most people outside Dacia,” said Hadrian. “Zalmoxis was once a man, a Dacian who became a slave and then a disciple of the Greek philosopher Pythagoras. After Pythagoras freed him, Zalmoxis returned to Dacia and became a healer and religious teacher in his own right. He died but was resurrected, and preached to the Dacians about the immortality of the soul before he finally left this world for the next.”

“Don’t the Christians also worship a man who became a god?” said Trajan. “Or is it a god who became a man?”

“There are similarities in the two religions,” acknowledged Hadrian, “but the worship of Zalmoxis is much older. The most important ceremony is held once every five years in a cave in the holy mountain of Kogaionon, where Zalmoxis spent three years in seclusion. A chosen youth is cast onto the points of three lances. His mission is to die, and then to deliver the requests of the Dacians to Zalmoxis in the other world. But sometimes the youth fails to die. If that happens, the messenger is deemed unworthy and another is chosen, but the omen is very bad.”

“When does the next such ceremony take place?” asked Trajan.

“According to our spies, the next five-year ceremony will take place in just a few months. This has caused me to wonder, Caesar, if Roman agents inside Dacia might somehow sabotage the ceremony, and by doing so spread doubt and dissension among the Dacians.”

Trajan laughed heartily and slapped his knee. “Little Greek! Only you could sift through all that foreign gibberish and find a way to use it to our advantage. Perhaps that endless education of yours will turn out to be more useful than I thought. I love this idea! By all mean, yes, instruct our agents in Dacia to make a shambles of the upcoming ceremony.”

“And if they should be uncovered?” asked Plotina.

“We’ll disavow any knowledge. Decebalus will assume the agents originated from enemies within his own court.”

“While the Dacian women have their way with the poor agents,” said Plotina.

“Such men know the risks they take in return for the generous rewards I give them,” said Trajan. “Ah, but this discourse on Zalmoxis reminded me of the Christians.” He waved to a secretary, who brought him a scroll. “I’ve been asked by a provincial governor for official instructions on what to do
about the Christians. Their refusal to pay allegiance to the imperial cult—indeed, to worship any of the gods—makes them a menace to society.”

“But their numbers are quite small, are they not?” said Plotina.

“One of my ministers estimates they account for five percent of the population,” said Trajan.

“Respectfully, Caesar, I think that estimate is much too high, even in the Eastern cities where their numbers are concentrated,” said Hadrian. “The aggravation they cause is out of all proportion to their actual numbers. Most people see their flagrant atheism as a clear threat to the security of the Roman state, which has always depended on the favor of the gods. When a pious, law-abiding citizen—in Antioch, say—discovers that a Christian is living next door, that citizen is likely to demand that a magistrate do something about it.”

“And if the magistrate acts?”

“The Christians are arrested, incarcerated, and given a choice: recognize the emperor and the gods by the simple act of burning incense on an altar, or be executed.”

“And some of these fools actually choose to be executed?”

“These people are fanatics, Caesar.”

“What if the magistrate does not act?”

“People take the law into their own hands. Christians have been burned out of their homes and driven off, even stoned to death by angry neighbors. As you can imagine, that sort of thing causes a huge headache for the authorities in charge of keeping the peace.”

Trajan rubbed his nose thoughtfully. “But such incidents are rare, are they not? In my experience, whether one is in Antium or Antioch, most people try to get along with their neighbors and mind their own business, even if the neighbors are Christians.”

“And what of the legions?” said Hadrian.

“Surely a Christian soldier is a contradiction in terms,” said Plotina. “I thought these people were opposed to killing.”

“Nonetheless, there are reports of Christians being found among Caesar’s soldiers, where they greatly upset morale. A legionary who refuses to sacrifice to the gods before battle poses a clear danger to his comrades. No pious soldier of Roma wants to serve beside such people in combat.”

Trajan shook his head. “It seems to me that an official policy of aggressively seeking out and punishing this tiny cult would be a waste of resources, more trouble than it’s worth, likely to make people anxious and upset for no good reason. I certainly don’t want to reward these death-worshipping fanatics with the attention they crave. And I am determined not to follow the example of Domitian, who was ready to believe that anyone was a Christian if an informer told him so. Such an accusation became an easy way to blackmail or get rid of an enemy, which is one reason our estimate of the number of Christians may be inflated—there are more people accused of being Christian than there are Christians!”

Trajan waved to the secretary, who brought a stylus and wax tablet, and began to dictate. “Notes for my response to a query from a provincial governor in regard to the Christians: These people are not to be sought out. If brought before you and found guilty, they must be punished. But even to the last minute, if such a person should repent and consent to worship the gods, he should be pardoned. Anonymous accusations must play no role in any prosecution; such practices are a discarded relic of a previous time. The official policy regarding the Christians, in a nutshell, may be summed up thusly: ‘Ask not, tell not.’ ”

He turned to Hadrian. “There, what do you think of that?”

“Caesar is like a father who wishes to keep peace between his children, even the worst of them.”

Trajan was amused. “Speak freely, Little Greek! What do you really think?”

“I think that Caesar is perhaps tolerant to a fault. But that is the opinion of a man much younger and less experienced than Caesar.”

“Don’t rub it in!” Trajan laughed. “Erudite, pious,
and
clever is our Little Greek.”

“And don’t forget handsome,” said Plotina with a smile.

Hadrian nodded to acknowledge the compliment, but touched his fingers to one acne-scarred cheek.

“What else is on the agenda?” said Trajan. The secretary handed him another document. “Ah, the new census I commissioned. Can you believe that Roma has a million inhabitants? So many people!”

“And so much misery,” said Plotina. “I took a walk yesterday through
the Subura. The squalor was shocking; so many children, dressed in rags and running wild.”

“The growing number of the destitute is not just a problem in Roma,” said Hadrian, “but in every city of the empire.”

“Domitian did nothing about the problem, of course,” said Trajan, “but Nerva instituted a system of financial relief for the children of the poor, and also for orphans. I intend to continue that relief. Perhaps we can even expand the system, if we can fill the treasury.”

“One hears there are more abandoned infants now than ever before,” said Plotina, “newborns left to die, not on remote hillsides but just outside the city walls. The situation is so common that people traveling along the roads think nothing of seeing the corpse of an infant lying in the gutter. Where do these unfortunate children come from, in such great numbers?”

“I was just reading a discourse by Dio of Prusa on that very topic,” said Hadrian. “He speculates that slave women, impregnated by a master or by another slave, often abort children, or else hide their pregnancies and then abandon the infant.”

“But abandoning one’s child to die—how could even a slave do such a thing?” said Plotina. After many years of marriage, she herself remained childless.

“Dio says that such a slave woman gets rid of her baby so as to escape the added slavery of having to raise a child that will simply become another slave for her master’s use.”

“What a vexing situation,” said Plotina. “So many problems, so much suffering.”

“And so very little we can do about it,” said Trajan.

“All the more reason, husband, that we must do whatever we can.”

Trajan smiled ruefully. “Speaking of Dio of Prusa, cousin, I almost regret introducing myself to the man. He’s taken the liberty of sending me a lengthy piece with the title ‘Oration on Kingship.’ He seems to expect me to read the thing and send him a reply. I don’t think he realizes that a man engaged in actually running the world hardly has time to read a long-winded compilation of helpful suggestions, however well intentioned.”

“And are his suggestions helpful?” said Plotina.

“Honestly, I tried to skim the thing, but it’s so full of high-flown phrases and obscure literary allusions that I couldn’t make any sense of it. Perhaps, cousin, you could read Dio’s oration and prepare a brief summary for me? Then I can send the fellow a suitable reply.”

“I’ve already read it,” said Hadrian.

Trajan raised an eyebrow. “He sent you a copy?”

“I think he sent copies to just about everyone he could think of. He’s distributed the oration far and wide.”

“The nerve of the man!”

“Dio wishes to have an influence on the world. To do that, he must influence the emperor. To influence the emperor, he uses the tool he knows best: words.”

“Words can be very powerful,” said Trajan.

“Indeed they can. Which is why it is better for Caesar to have these philosophers as friends rather than enemies. In point of fact, much of his advice is quite sound. I’ll read his oration again and prepare a summary which Caesar can read at his leisure.”

“Leisure!” Trajan laughed. “I have precious little of that. Well, we’ve talked enough of the great problems of the world. Let’s see if we can actually get something done this morning. What sort of petitions are on the agenda?” He gestured to the secretary, who brought him a list of the citizens who were awaiting an audience, along with a description of their requests.

“What’s this one?” Trajan peered more closely at the list. “Lucius Pinarius: the name sounds vaguely familiar. Have I ever met this fellow?”

“I don’t think so,” said Hadrian. “I looked at the list earlier, and I also noticed the name. The Pinarii are an ancient patrician family, cousins of the Divine Julius and the Divine Augustus, but this bearer of the name is a man of no particular importance—not even a senator—though he does appear to possess considerable wealth.”

Trajan grunted. “According to these notes, his request is linked to an issue we were just discussing. This Lucius Pinarius desires to redeem a foster child from slavery; he claims the child is his offspring and he wants to have the boy legally recognized as such, so that the boy’s name and citizenship are restored. That’s not the same as manumission, is it? Legally, it
would be saying that the boy was born a citizen and so was never a slave, despite the fact that he was raised as one.”

“There are plenty of precedents for such cases,” noted Hadrian, “but legal technicalities invariably arise that must be decided on a case-by-case basis. For example, should the foster child’s current master be paid for the child’s upbringing, or should the master relinquish the child to its lawful parent without payment?”

Trajan nodded thoughtfully. “How old is the boy?”

The secretary consulted his notes. “Fifteen, Caesar.”

Trajan raised an eyebrow. “Ah! Well, let’s have look. Show them in.”

Dressed in his best toga, Lucius Pinarius entered the room and stood before the emperor. His demeanor was humble but confident, and he glanced about the room in a way that suggested he was not unfamiliar with the surroundings. The wide-eyed boy who accompanied him, on the other hand, was obviously dazzled by the magnificence of the room.

Trajan and Hadrian exchanged brief but knowing glances. Both had an appreciative eye for male beauty, and the boy was extremely good-looking. With his dark blond hair and flashing green eyes, he did not much resemble his reputed father.