The Horse Changer (13 page)

Another time he said, ‘If you’re not happy with her, I’ll take her off your hands. I’ll be glad to pay you for the trouble of finding another wife.’

‘How much would you give for her?’ Nero asked.

It was a strange, cold question. I think he was joking, but who could tell with that dour soul? Dolabella laughed, all in good fun. ‘I’d make you king of Rome if you gave me an hour with Livia.’

‘I’ll have my coronation before I agree to it.’

‘What surprises me,’ Dolabella remarked one evening when the two men were deep in their cups, ‘is that you haven’t thought to take hold of your colleagues and shake them like the spoiled brats they are.’ Nero could imagine a crown on his head or at least joke about it; he could not fathom how he might bully his colleagues. They intimidated him, much as Dolabella did.

‘I don’t mean you ought to bother about them; they’re frankly not worth the trouble, but what a good many of them need is a sword in the guts, and for the rest the threat of it. By the gods, we need to cull out the bankrupts and banish every man who’s married to an ugly woman!’

‘My husband is too kind for that sort of thing,’ Livia answered. She was supervising the slaves as they served us, quietly listening to Dolabella’s rant. She spoke up, I believe, because her husband was too shocked to say anything.

‘That’s a pity,’ Dolabella answered cheerfully. ‘Here we have Rome’s last hope, and he’s too decent to do what is necessary.’

‘I don’t think it’s quite decency that stops me,’ Nero muttered.

A slave came to the villa one afternoon, this on the third or fourth day of our visit. He informed Nero that one of the estate’s herdsmen had spotted a wild boar in the mountains. Dolabella, overhearing the news, called at once for a hunt. Blinking and nodding in response, Nero answered, ‘Yes, that would be the thing to do.’

Dolabella suggested that Nero send invitations to the aristocracy and gentry of the neighbouring estates. By dawn next day we had gathered more than a dozen young men of quality. Most of the hunters were the sons of Roman nobility on holiday at their Campania estates. A few were indigenous gentry who knew the mountain trails well enough to lead the hunt.

To the considerable surprise of all, Nero’s bride expected to be included. I recall Livia arriving at the stables just as we were all preparing to mount our horses. Nero asked her what she thought she was doing. ‘I’ve decided to join the hunt,’ she answered.

‘That’s impossible,’ he said.

‘You’ve taken me hunting before.’

‘A wild boar is considerably more dangerous than the game we’ve hunted. It isn’t safe for you.’

‘With all these armed men about? You have to be joking.’ To her slave, she said, ‘Fetch Artemis and be quick about it!’

‘Stay where you are!’ Nero told the fellow.

‘Go!’ the girl answered petulantly. The slave was naturally torn between commands: the refusal of either would get him a beating.

Fortunately for the poor fellow, Dolabella inserted himself into Nero’s domestic affairs. Dolabella of course cared nothing about the fate of a slave; he simply loved scandal of every hue and thought to nurture this one in its infancy. ‘Let her ride with us, Nero,’ he said. ‘Dellius will keep her safe.’ He turned to me. ‘Won’t you, Dellius?’

I knew better than to complain of losing my chance at riding in the vanguard and answered my patron crisply. ‘On my life!’

‘You see? On his life. She will be perfectly safe.’

I expect Nero knew he had been turned into a laughing stock. All the same, he relented, for he dearly loved that girl. Let the neighbours make their jokes; nothing is as sweet in life as a happy wife. Of course, at the time, I was astonished that a senator of Rome would submit to a mere child. I had no respect for the old fellow. In my bachelor’s ignorance I believed a man must never submit to the whims of a woman, especially if she happened also to be his wife. Time has softened my opinion considerably. When I was Nero’s age, somewhere in my fifties, and about the business of my second marriage, I did not let my new bride hunt wild boar with the young gentry of our neighbourhood, but like Nero I spoiled her at every turn. Those who make us happy we learn to indulge. It is partly our sentiment for their sweet compliance and partly a desire to give them a life that is kinder than the one we have endured.

At any rate, Livia was athlete enough to ride with the men, a better athlete than most, if truth were told. Nero knew this and was not worried about her tiring or falling from her horse. He did, however, take the precaution of keeping his wife from danger by sending all but Dolabella and me ahead. With luck we could hope to join up in time for the kill, but there would be no adventuring at the front of the chase.

For her part, Livia appeared to agree to Nero’s conditions until her mare was brought out and saddled. By then the rest of the hunters were a mile or so up the mountain. When Artemis bowed down to allow Livia to mount, she took her seat and brought the mare up quickly, kicking her flanks as she did. Nero called her back, for all the good it did. Livia departed at a full gallop, and nothing was going to turn her back. Still on the ground and having no chance of catching her anyway, Nero looked at me angrily. ‘Your life, Dellius, if anything happens to her!’

The land around Nero’s estate was wooded, hilly and wild. Livia knew every ridge and ravine from her morning rides and soon left the trail by which the hunters had ascended the mountain. Her path was more direct and thereby more treacherous. There were jumps over logs and ditches. Then there were the breakneck descents, which I took at a gallop for the sake of keeping up with her. The fog that shrouded Rome that summer had covered all Campania as well; if anything the air was thicker and more foul.

Before long I found myself utterly alone. I knew Livia had gone off trail to lose me. Realising that there can be no pleasure in such a game if one is unavailable to be laughed at, I turned back and headed down the mountain. Soon enough Livia came ambling out of her hiding place. She began at once to tease me about my equestrian talents: ‘I’m not sure you are the fellow I care to have guarding me. You can barely keep up.’

‘Have you ever encountered a wild boar, Lady?’ I asked.

‘They are no longer common in Campania.’

‘They are still plentiful in Tuscany, where I grew up. I’ve hunted enough of them to tell you when you find one you had better not be alone.’

‘You have your spear and sword. Where is the danger?’

‘They charge whatever frightens them. Even a mortal wound will not take them to ground at once, and with tusks as long as your arms they can impale you before they even know they are hurt.’

‘How are they killed then?’

‘It’s best done with three or four men in a circle about the animal, all of them on foot and wielding spears. With danger on all sides a boar will try to threaten everyone. To do so it will turn from man to man, allowing the others a chance to strike its flanks.’

‘I should like to witness that.’

‘For that we need to join the others.’

With Nero’s great mass it had been impossible for him to race his horse straight up the mountain. Accordingly, he had followed us by a more tortuous trail with Dolabella keeping him company. As we rode back to find them Livia took the opportunity to interview me. She was particularly concerned about my father’s estate in Tuscany and the extent of my military experience. When I answered her in general terms, not caring to brag about my father’s wealth or my extensive combat experience in Spain, she pressed me for details.

Her interest flattered me, of course, and I eventually gave her all she wanted, like the innocent dolt I was. I am not sure how long we talked in this fashion, for there is no topic as delightful as one’s own life. Whether we are young or old, time passes quickly when we pursue the topic in earnest, especially with a perfect beauty quizzing us. This I can say, when we finally came upon Nero and Dolabella, it seemed only a short while and I resented losing the girl’s attention. But such is the bachelor’s fate.

Nero was in a terrible mood when we arrived. I imagined some portion of his anger must be directed at me, if only for the intimate conversation I had shared with his wife, but I was nothing to him. The moment we came together he began scolding Livia for the danger she courted. Livia called him an old grumpy-face, or some such nonsensical term. Rather than complain of her impertinence, as any other man would have done, Nero’s wrath simply melted. He began by explaining himself and was soon apologising for losing his temper. ‘It’s just that I was worried, my love.’

We had heard the baying of hunting dogs intermittently through the morning, but at midday the pack gave an excited cry. They had found their prey. Wild boars are wily creatures, but they rarely outrun a pack of dogs. Once sighted, they are soon surrounded. When that occurs, a boar has no choice but to stop and fight.

Nero, like the rest of us, was suddenly anxious to join in for the kill. Livia’s safety no longer an issue, his only real concern was that we might be too late. With a perfect knowledge of the mountain’s trails, Livia pointed out the most direct route. This happened to be along a cliff’s edge, not really a trail at all, but she promised her husband we could save a quarter of an hour by taking it. That was sufficient argument for Nero, who led us now. Out of deference to our host and his wife, Dolabella and I brought up the rear.