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NERO
By Pueros Chapter XXV Journeys (Imperial trireme, Mare Tyrrhenum, dies Iovis A.D. IV Non. Ian. DCCCII A.V.C., in the 8th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [Thursday, 2nd January, AD 49]) Accipere quam facere praestat injuriam. (It is better to suffer an injustice than to do an injustice.) - Cicero (Tusculanae Disputationes) My cold, damp, shivering, abused, naked body was still tightly bound to the punishment post on the deck of the new Imperial trireme, as the dawn of the second day of the new year broke. My enforced extended standing position, endured now since the previous afternoon, caused my bare limbs intense anguish, particularly to various exhausted muscles and my outstretched wrists, which had become very sore and red as the binding rope ate into my delicate skin. However, neither this nor the residual agony from my untreated bloody whip-marks generated the greatest excruciation. Instead, the overnight sufferance of multiple sodomy had made one particular pain come to the fore. I could not, of course, see the resultant damage caused. However, I was sure that not only was my previously tight pink sphincter now severely stretched and red-raw but also similar damage must have extended to the whole length of the aperture supposedly guarded by this small circular muscle. My anal insides felt as if they had been invaded over many hours by many red-hot pokers, which in a way they had been. My only slight compensation was that the overnight rain had been remorseless. This weather might have added to my chilling wetness but it also managed to wash away most of the fluids that emerged from my body during this period. My terror during my bloody whipping had naturally caused me to empty my bladder. My rapists then ensured that copious amounts of extraneous sperm flowed out of my rectum and down my bumcrack and the inside of my legs. My dreadful torment had also combined with the continuous substantial rocking of the boat in choppy waves to induce regular bouts of vomit to emerge from my mouth. Apart from my short journey from Britannia to Gaul across the Fretum Gallicum, shortly after my capture by the Romans, I had never before been to sea and so the associated sickness could perhaps only be expected. I had already prayed to the ancient gods of my own people that my current torment would end soon. However, it was only after my distressed mental faculties somehow managed to greet the rising Romano-Greek deity, Helius, in the manner of Apollinus people, that sailors eventually came to untie me from the punishment post. Unfortunately, I was soon to be parted from the overhead god, apparently permanently. I first began to worry when I might see or feel the deity again when one of the sailors gave me an instruction, as my currently virtually immobile, deeply hurting, naked form was dragged towards the narrow entrance leading to the lower deck of the ship. Say goodbye to the sun, the smirking man ordered, as youre unlikely to see it again in all its glory for a long time, if ever. Instead, say hello to hell! (Imperial palace, Rome, same time) An agreeable companion on a journey is as good as a carriage. - Publius Syrus Apollinus had usually been most grateful of late for being allocated underwear as part of his uniform. The loincloth had enabled the regular stiffening of his cock, whenever he was in the delightful Britannicus company, especially if his young charge was unclothed, to remain disguised. However, this particular morning, the 16 year-olds frequent penile problem had not recurred, as he attended the prince during the 7 year-olds normal morning bath. The youth was simply too morosely sad for his handsome young body to become sexually excited. The ever-perceptive Britannicus noticed Apollinus melancholy, as the youth, dressed only in his skimpy loincloth, delicately scraped oil from the boys naked body with a silver strigil. After this chore had been completed and the young Greek slave was leading the younger prince by the hand to the frigidarium, for the customary plunge in the cold bath before returning to the hot caldarium, the 16 year-olds motion was halted by a gentle tug of the joined palms. Apollinus looked down at the naked pretty prince, expecting to find Britannicus reluctant once more to immerse his small but lovely form in the waiting cold water. However, the 7 year-olds beautiful face exhibited concern not for his own imminent welfare but for that of the 16 year-old. Whats wrong? asked Britannicus. Nothing, young Sire, Apollinus answered without conviction, despite his best efforts not to trouble the prince with his own worries. Oh, yes there is, the 7 year-old replied, because I can tell. I know you well by now and youre unhappy. I wont have any of my slaves in such a condition if I can help it, especially you! The 16 year-old could not help but enquire Why especially me, young Sire? Because I like you a lot, Britannicus responded, immediately brightening Apollinus day a little. My Greek friend did not now want to continue to be untruthful but he also still did not wish to burden his young charge with his own problems, especially as he could not see how the boy could possibly help him. The 16 year-old therefore advised I said nothing, young Sire, because my sadness has no connection with my personal service here and accordingly I shouldnt be troubling you with it. However, his explanation just fed the nude 7 year-olds curiosity. Is it your boyfriend, Britannicus asked, has he deserted you for another? Apollinus mind immediately turned to thoughts of me, a galley slave in the dark belly of some awful boat. There was then something in the princes beautiful innocent face, as the resplendent visage looked up at his own, that caused my Greek friend now to unburden himself completely, whilst a few tears ran down his cheeks. He told the wondrous boy about my misfortune and his own recent frightening experience. Apollinus had been arrested, as he was making his way back to the quarters he shared with me, after finally returning from Palaemons domus just after dawn on the first day of the new year. Britannicus had already kindly given permission for the youth not to attend him that morning, so that his slave could sleep off the effects of attending the renowned teachers lengthy celebration. However, the 16 year-old had soon found himself in a tiny dungeon cell instead of his own bed. Apollinus had eventually been released after brief questioning by Narcissus, who had earlier separately interrogated me. It seemed that the Imperial secretary, belief fortified by my confession and the young Greek slaves provable alibi as to where he had been most of the previous night, was content about the 16 year-olds ignorance of my alleged appalling misdemeanor. However, the freedman, having already condemned me to the galley, had no time to listen to my friends protestations that I too had to be innocent. After all, I had conceded my guilt. On subsequent eventual release, Apollinus, now suddenly very awake and no longer in need of his bed, had raced from the palace to the small but pleasant domus of Petronius. My Greek friend, aware of my punishment, sensibly appreciated that he needed help from more important personages than himself to rescue me from a fate probably worse than death. Petronius, as equally concerned for my welfare and sure of my innocence as Apollinus, as befitted someone with whom I had once shared a bed, remained calm and collected. The elegentiae arbiter first ordered his youthful lover to return to the palace to resume his duties before he was missed, declaring We dont want two Imperial slaves in trouble! The young man then immediately scurried to Palaemons domus to obtain further assistance towards my salvation. Unfortunately, when Gaius and Hylas later arrived in Ostia, as a result of the deliberations undertaken and plans made in Palaemons home, they found that the quayside where the new trireme had been berthed was now vacant. My own lover and his young slave, originally intent on securing my freedom through bribery, also began to shed tears in horror at recognising that further pursuit of such a fast military vessel was impossible. After finishing his story, the tearful Apollinus claimed to Britannicus I assure you, young Sire, that Bicilus is innocent of any theft. Robbing for monetary reward is totally against his character. The only stealing hes capable of perpetrating is that of peoples hearts! As a result of his slaves convincing entreaties on my behalf, Britannicus also had to wipe some dampness from his young sublime eyes. I believe you, the prince then truthfully disclosed, because I trust you and your judgement and my own too. I know your boyfriend from his service for Sribonia and Tullia and I gathered the impression then that he was a likeable soul, devoid of any bitterness because of his status and incapable of perfidy. What can I do to help? I dont think that you can help, young Sire, Apollinus answered, because theres nothing that can be done until Bicilus innocence is proved, and sadly not much progress is yet being made in that cause. Meanwhile, my friend's already on a fast galley at sea. Some close acquaintances are trying to find out who the real culprit might be but theyve been hampered by not knowing the identity of all of those who attended your fathers banquet, in particular those who were there at the end. Im afraid that Ive not been of much help to them because I left early and, in any case, many of the faces present were previously unknown to me. Im so inconsequential here that I also havent been able to elicit the information from anyone else. It was then that it dawned in the 16 year-olds traumatised mind how the 7 year-old could assist. Britannicus simultaneously recognised the role that he could play and a broad grin appeared on his very pretty face. I know all the names, the prince proudly and happily announced, whilst he maintained his disarming smile, and I could find out from father who was present at the end. Perhaps then, the journey towards justice for your boyfriend could commence! Meanwhile, outside, black clouds gathered over Rome and torrential rain began to pour down on the largest city in the world. (Imperial trireme, Mare Tyrrhenum, shortly afterwards) For full indeed is earth of woes, and full the sea; and in the day as well as night diseases unbidden haunt mankind, silently bearing ills to men, for all-wise Zeus has taken from them their voice. So utterly impossible is it to escape the will of Zeus. - Hesiod I gave the sun one last brief despairing glance before I was dragged down into the dark bowels of the trireme. After my appalled eyes had finally adjusted to the gloom, and I my nose had recovered from the disgust induced by the all pervading stink of many mens sweaty bodies and their products, I looked carefully around to gain a better impression of the whole of my new universe. I already knew that there were approximately 30 sailors because most of them had sodomised me overnight. I now also discovered, from a rough mental calculation, at which I had always been speedily capable, that there were additionally about 170 rowers crowded on board a ship only about 40 paces long and 6 wide. I found myself chained to my own heavy wooden oar, whilst sitting on the left of the triremes hull amidst a line of 26 other galley slaves, all adults, in front and behind. Another line of 27 rowers was to my right, with their oars poking out of the other side of the ship. I later discovered we comprised the thalamioi, from the Greek thalamos, meaning hold. More galley slaves were just above us, this time two to the left and two to the right, their oars also extending downwards through their own apertures to the sea below. Of the many above me, the 62 men closest to the vessels sides, called thranitai, from the Greek thranos, meaning gangpank, were sat on narrow wooden ledges, which ran along both edges of the lower deck of the vessel from bow to poop. The 54 companions, more inwardly located besides most of them, termed zygita, after the Hellenic word zygon, meaning beam, were positioned on crossbeams. Each of the thalamioi was situated between and slightly behind each of the thranitai and zygita above. I noticed that the men overhead were generally bigger and seemingly stronger than those of us below, presumably because they had to operate longer heavier oars, which were apparently of three sizes. These varied in length from about 4 to 5 paces, according to the positions of the individual handlers and their distance from the waves.
My sore red wrists were manacled to my personal oar, with my ankles shackled to the hull planks immediately underneath. My new sitting position was a relief compared to what I had previously experienced. However, this was tempered somewhat by the stinging feel of the cool damp wood on my bare striped buttocks and the equally marked underside of my legs. None of my new colleagues, who were primarily enslaved criminals, said anything as I was introduced to their truly hellish underworld, where expectancy of continued life was short, with the bodies of the dead or irreparably damaged simply being thrown overboard. Such attrition invariably causes galleys to slow towards the ends of their journeys, particularly if the voyage is long or encounters bad weather. The understandably morose eyes of my new colleagues also did not display any welcome for the arrival of a young pretty eunuch in their midst, just pity. I suppose that this was induced by sadness at the entrance of another poor soul into such a hell, along with frustrated acceptance by many of those with whom I was to share this appalling existence that they would never sample my bodily delights. All of my fellow oarsmen were similarly nude and I was soon to find out why. The bodily movements incurred in rowing are not conducive to covering loins for long, wear and tear rapidly entailing the destruction of any such attempts at preserving modesty, especially given the poor quality of any cloth that would be afforded to galley slaves. Naturally, the Imperial loincloth of expensive material, in which I had arrived at the trireme, would not be returned to me. Instead, someone, probably the ships captain, would gain some money by eventually selling the garment. Nakedness is also advisable for three other reasons. The first is the potential for the tearing of clothing by the whips carried by the galley supervisors, who patrol up and down a narrow gap between the left and right ranks of rowers whenever necessary to encourage their charges to better work output. I had, of course, already enjoyed on the upper deck the feel of the leather belonging to the main chargehand. The second reason is the lack of laundry, bathing and toilet facilities, with sweat, body waste and seasickness vomit simply being washed away by buckets of seawater regularly thrown in the direction of the galley slaves by the invariably cruel men assigned to ensuring their proficiency. In fact, oarsmen hardly ever move from their chained sitting positions, a practice that frequently creates festering sores on the backsides of virtually all of those charged with propelling the boat whenever the vessel's customary single sail is deemed to provide insufficient propulsion. The third reason is the warmth created in a crowded confined enclosed environment by many bodies, which is sometimes increased as a result of strenuous exertions and occasional flagellation. This generated heat rarely lets anyone become cold, even when completely idle on a freezing winters day. However, if inactivity does somehow allow the chill to permeate this dark suffocating world, galley slaves are permitted the comfort of embracing any reachable colleagues, within the constraints of their permanent chains. This, in turn, frequently leads, as a result of the natural need of male adults for regular sexual relief, to further production of what could also now be termed bodily waste because the semen product is never going to fulfil its basic procreative function. Many assigned to compulsory service on oars seem to prefer the fleeting companionship of mutual manual or oral action to solitary masturbation. As I was chained in place, I could now appreciate the reasoning behind the sailors suggestion to say goodbye to the sun. My only decent view of the outside world was via the narrow hole below me through which my oar, to which I was now immovably attached, extended at an angle downwards to the sea. The only chance of ever seeing the sky, let alone the deity that provided the daytime light, was if the waves caused my side of the trireme to surge upwards. Even then, the gaps around the oar were so small that I was unlikely to spy the whole solar orb. I did not fully appreciate at the time that most triremes possessed outriggers, comprising beams extending outside the hull to provide room for extra rowers and used mainly to gain extra speed in times of war. However, during my time afloat, I did discover why the lower thalamioi rowers, like me, were nicknamed polluted by the sailors. Urine and worse would occasionally fall down onto our chained bodies from the thranitai and zygita above us. My face was also once spattered with sperm when I foolishly looked up to see from where some loud ecstatic groans were emanating. My only slight consolation, as I arrived in these terrible surroundings and vomited over myself once more, was the fact that the current heavy seas made rowing both impractical and fruitless. All of the galley slaves were therefore at rest whilst the trireme instead tried to make progress to the south, in the now turbulent rainy conditions, by use of the ships single sail. (House of Cybele, plebeian quarter, Rome, later that day) Auri sacra fames. (The cursed hunger for gold.) - Virgil Well, declared the smirking delighted owner of the male brothel where Nigerinus had once worked and to where Axenius was once destined until rescued from such a fate, what brings the great Palaemon and Petronius to my humble establishment again? Id given up on you both and never expected to see you here again. I thought youd been converted to monogamy by a pair of beautiful young slaves, or have you now tired of their charms and are therefore visiting to seek fresh flesh and variety? The brothel keeper was enormously pleased at the unexpected return, after a while away, of a couple of his best customers. In fact, it was in his brothel that Palaemon and Petronius had first become properly acquainted, their relationship subsequently developing into friendship despite the age differential between the two. Our visit is not quite as it seems, Palaemon announced to the brothel keepers clear disappointment, as we are just seeking some information. However, the owners smirk was soon restored when he discovered what data was required and how much he would be rewarded for supplying it. (Lodgings of Titus Vinius, plebeian quarter, Rome, even later that day) Non qui parum habet, sed qui plus cupit, pauper est. (It is not the man who has little, but the man who craves more, that is poor.) Seneca the Younger (Epistulae Morales) Welcome, Petronius, Titus Vinius declared in greeting, politely but with noticeable surprise, to his former intimate friend who had unexpectedly appeared at the door of his humble lodgings, which were indicative of someone from his class in financial distress. What brings you here? the young man then asked, wondering whether his erstwhile close companion might now be regretting their falling out. I need to talk to you about something, Petronius replied. Please, then, Titus Vinius invited, come in out of the rain and take a seat whilst I pour us some wine! Titus Vinius took little notice of the young slaveboy, who was accompanying his surprise guest and whose head was covered by the hood of his cloak because of the heavy downpour outside. The young man instead collected a couple of cheap bronze goblets and filled them with inexpensive and almost unpalatable wine, for the refreshment of Petronius and himself, before asking, as he sat opposite his former friend in another rickety chair, What do you want to talk about? (Imperial trireme, Sinus Cumanus, next day, dies Veneris A.D. III Non. Ian. DCCCII A.V.C., in the 8th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [Friday, 3rd January, AD 49]) Difficile est tenere quae acceperis nisi exerceas. (It is difficult to retain what you may have learned unless you practice it.) - Pliny the Younger The idleness of the triremes rowers thankfully extended for the remainder of the day and all of the night, after the ship had been forced to take refuge from the growing storm near the northern shoreline of the Sinus Cumanus, otherwise known as the Bay of Neapolis. The heavy sea turbulence had also seemingly put the crew off wanting to abuse my body again. However, morning had brought calmer weather and the vessel would shortly be underway on its journey to Aegyptia once more. The stable fare for galley slaves, of crude cheap wheat-based porridge, which afforded little nourishment and was presented in old unclean wooden dishes, was offered as our first sustenance. I declined the breakfast, even though the second and last meal of the day would not be served until nightfall and despite the fact that, after so much seasickness, my stomach had to be completely devoid of contents. The evidence for this supposition was currently all over and around my naked body. Both my continuing queasiness, from being in a constantly undulating new home, and my despair at my new existence had caused me to lose all appetite. However, I did accept the opportunity to grab some fresh water in my palms, from the tendered bucket, to quench my parched mouth and desperate thirst. I was also grateful to be swilled to some semblance of cleanliness by several buckets of seawater, despite the chill. It was additionally pleasant to see the human detritus from me and others wash away into the waves outside via drainage holes in the ships hull. Soon afterwards, a loud drumbeat began to resound through the triremes hold to provide the rowers with the rhythm to operate their oars. Only when top speed is required, usually in battle or practice for conflict, are all galley slaves required to perform simultaneously in the highest tempo. This is also kept up only in short bursts because of the inevitable onset of exhaustion in even the strongest and most durable of the men providing the propulsion. Instead, the normal routine is for the thalamioi, thranitai and zygita to take turns, at a pace that can be maintained for decent periods. On this occasion, the thranitai and zygita proceeded first. As they went about their strenuous labour, in line with the slow drumbeat, I cringed at the occasional crack of the whip I heard, presumably laid across the backs of supposedly inefficient galley slaves. Having never used an oar before, and being aware, as Narcissus had been, of my physical limitations, I wondered how many lashes my own naked body would receive during the course of the day itself, whilst the ship journeyed further south. I was rapidly to gain some appreciation of how many this might be when a drum-roll eventually indicated that it was the turn of the thalamioi to propel the trireme. I then initially struggled even to move my oar and was still encountering this problem when the first agonising blow from hard thin leather hit my bare skin, accompanied by the shouted instruction to Work, you idle brat! Nevertheless, despite this painful inducement, I continued to struggle. I also began to panic tearfully, as another whip mark was created on my back, because I then started to believe that I would soon be flogged to death without having made any contribution whatsoever to the motion of the trireme. (Derbe, Roman Imperial Province of Lycaonia, same time) It is ridiculous to suppose that the great head of things, whatever it be, pays any regard to human affairs. - Pliny the Elder Paul and Barnabas were in the city of Derbe but intended to leave as soon as the weather allowed, their controversial preaching having endangered their safety, and that of their converts, once more. Their long journey during the months ahead would eventually see them spending the next winter in Jerusalem, where a meeting of the council of the new sect would have important consequences for the foreskins of future male progeny of the currently mainly Jewish adherents of the revisionist faith. (Imperial trireme, Sinus Cumanus, same time) Caelum, non animum mutant, qui trans mare currunt. (They change the sky, but not their souls, who hasten across the sea.) - Horace (Epistles) I had already braced myself to receive another blow from the whip for my incompetence when a further but different drum-roll seemed to indicate that all rowing should stop. The third strike therefore did not land on my back, which was still sanguinely marked as a result of my painful time a couple of days earlier on the upper deck. I now at first disbelieved my ears, because I thought that I could still hear the sound of oars ploughing waves. However, my disbelief was then dissipated when the noise came ever closer and more apparent until it was almost deafening. I wondered what sort of ship could create such a tantrum. I was soon to find out, after the hullabaloo finally died. My trireme had seemed to be virtually motionless for quite a while before I heard some orders shouted through the narrow distant stairwell that led to the upper deck. I could not quite work out what the commands had been but it quickly became obvious that they involved me when a couple of galley slave supervisors came to unchain me from my oar. I then saw the sun again, unexpectedly far more quickly than either promised or anticipated. After my eyes had become accustomed to the bright sunlight, I immediately noticed the cause of the recent noisy cacophony. Idling not far from the trireme on which I stood was an even bigger vessel, one that I was later to discover was called a super-galley and was the flagship of the Imperial fleet. The enormous ship had 300 oarsmen and 120 sailors on board. However, concern for such facts was currently far from my mind when I saw who was waiting for me on the upper deck of my own boat. My beloved Gaius, with the inevitable Hylas at his side, was rushing towards me. (To be continued in chapter XXVI Restitutions)
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