Nero 26

By Pueros

Chapter XXVI – Restitutions

(Imperial flagship, Sinus Cumanus, 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])

‘Remember that he whom you call your slave came into life by the same route as you, basks in the same sky, and breathes, lives and dies in the same way as you do. You can observe the free man in him just as you can see the slave in you. In the proscriptions of Martius, many high-born men, on the military ladder to a seat in the Senate, were reduced by fate to being shepherds or janitors. You look down at your peril on someone in whose place you could come to be even while you look down on him. I don’t want to get too involved in the broader treatment of slaves, to whom in general we are extremely arrogant, cruel and abusive. This, however, is the sum of my advice: treat your inferiors as you would want to be treated by your masters.’

- Seneca the Younger (‘Epistles, XLVII’)

I ask, reader, that you cast your memory back to what my worthy scribe has designated chapter 19 of my autobiography. There, I suggested that, as events unfolded, I was to be immensely grateful to Gaius not only for his continued loving presence in Rome, after his formal education had finished, but also once again for my personal salvation from a fate worse than death. The 18 year-old had not, of course, achieved that feat by rescuing me from torture and crucifixion in Caius Silius’ garden, or from later torment in the dungeons of the Imperial palace, as others had thankfully performed those deeds. Instead, the young man from Volsinii had made a different, but nevertheless very important, contribution towards my continued wellbeing, by helping to secure my removal from the hell that was the hold of the trireme and my subsequent restitution to my former position.

Gaius first, apparently unashamedly and unthinkingly, embraced me on the upper deck of the trireme in front of the captain and most of his sailors, who were basically soldiers trained for naval service but also readied for combat action either at sea or on dry land, depending upon need. The handsome young man from Volsinii initially did not seem to mind my current nudity and dirty smelly form as he hugged me firmly, with obvious love and relief, until he received a diplomatic tug on the elbow from Hylas. The 18 year-old then looked down at his pretty 6 year-old eunuch, a compatriot of mine from Britannia, to hear his slave make a suggestion, whilst proffering a spare Imperial tunic that the duo had considerately brought with them.

“I think, master,” Hylas thoughtfully advised with a broad smile, indicative that he was as pleased about the reunion between Gaius and me as we were ourselves, “that, given the watching spectators and the pervading atmospheric chill, Bicilus might appreciate some cover!” The 18 year-old immediately recognised his selfishness in wanting to show his delight at our re-acquaintance in such public surrounds and in such an emotional manner, whilst I remained nude. He therefore reluctantly tried to extricate himself from our embrace so that I could accept the offered garment. However, my own relief at meeting my beloved again was so intense that the young man from Volsinii encountered initial difficulty in separating his body from my grateful affectionate clutches.

In the end, Gaius had to order me, quietly but with firmness, “Now, Bicilus, please let go so that you can dress. We’ll have plenty of time for this later!” I blushed at the admonishment, but only because it reminded me that I was showing unrestrained emotion whilst naked in public. I therefore quickly tried to retrieve the situation by finally detaching myself from my lover and accepting the attire from Hylas.

I soon found my nude body concealed by the tunic, which was primarily white with purple edgings. However, having done so, the redness of my face actually intensified when I noticed that, despite the valuable excellent quality of the cloth, my welcome covering was already stained as a result of my bodily grime. My embarrassment increased further when I saw that I had also now despoiled the expensive toga virilis of the marvellous young man from Volsinii. My abashment, at what my dirtiness had achieved, now encouraged me to want to leave the dreadful trireme with expediency.

Given this wish, I was happy to hear Gaius command gently, “Come, let’s depart this vessel for the Imperial flagship, where we’ve been allocated the Emperor’s own cabin. There, Hylas and I will see what we can do to repair your obviously maltreated form.”

The currently calm sea assisted my young lover’s declared intent. These placid conditions had permitted gangplanks to be lowered down the sides of the two Imperial ships to enable easy interchange to and from the small rowboat, manned by sailors from the bigger vessel, which would transfer us between the two craft. The little conveyance, which had already brought Gaius and Hylas to the trireme, would subsequently be hauled by ropes onto the flagship.

As Gaius, Hylas and I advanced towards the readied gangplank of the trireme, adjacent to which stood a man whom I thought I recognised, the ship’s captain approached us to try to justify my treatment whilst on board his vessel. “I’m sorry if the boy suffered during his short stay,” the officer announced, with clear apprehension, presumably for his own welfare, rather than shame at troubling my own wellbeing. “However,” he added, “I was led to believe that the slave was both a criminal and a traitor to the Emperor’s trust, who accordingly was to be severely dealt with.”

I said nothing, as I was still too stunned at yet another remarkable change in my fortunes, but Gaius could not help himself. Even though the young man had not yet fully inspected the dirty damaged condition of my body, or the horrible dark bowels of any galley, he had a correct appreciation of how the slaves on such vessels were treated.

“No-one,” Gaius declared, in an angry tone and with a thunderous expression, “regardless of what they’re supposed to have done to be sentenced here, deserves the type of treatment you afford your oarsmen. The nature of this is clearly evident from my friend’s condition after just a couple of days on board. In my opinion, such practices make those responsible as criminally culpable as the prisoners. In fact, they’re probably iniquitously worse because I bet, like this boy here was, there are many innocents amongst galley slaves!” The young man then gave the captain a look of disgust and disdain before leaving the officer speechless and leading Hylas and me off the man’s trireme.

Unfortunately, I later learnt that Gaius’ words seemed to have no effect on the trireme captain. Sad news eventually filtered through to me about what the officer had perpetrated once his ship had finally reached faraway Aegyptia. To make matters even more galling for me, the man had apparently devised the idea for his appalling action as a result of my brief presence on his vessel.

As we approached the gangplank, I was shocked to recognise the man who was waiting there for us, having accompanied Gaius on his rescue mission because he had the authority to order around any mere ship’s captain. The rather ugly but nevertheless friendly face of Titus Flavius Vespasianus senior was ready to accompany us back to the Imperial flagship and then Rome.

Titus Flavius Vespasianus greeted me by saying, with a broad smile, “Hello, Bicilus!” My astonishment at the great general’s presence was compounded by his use of my appellation.

I appreciated that Titus Flavius Vespasianus might have identified my face from my service with the Emperor, and possibly even previously with Caius Silius, but I was surprised that he knew my slave title until my turbulent mental processes later calmed. I then realised that, even if the great general had not known my name previously, he would have become well aware of it after kindly agreeing to undertake his latest assignment.

“I’m glad we managed to overtake the trireme so soon,” Titus Flavius Vespasianus stated, with obvious genuine pleasure, “before you suffered too much.” I thought better of interrupting the great general to suggest to him that I thought that I had already endured too much.

“Luckily, the weather intervened,” Titus Flavius Vespasianus now advised informatively, as he, Gaius, Hylas and I clambered down the gangplank of the trireme, “and I managed to commission the only boat in the Imperial fleet big and sturdy enough to ply on in the conditions and not have to shelter. It still wasn’t pleasant and the flagship’s commander did want to stop but I overruled him and so here we are!”

I wondered at first why Titus Flavius Vespasianus was so eager to appraise me immediately of the remarkable efforts made to secure the salvation of a mere barbarian eunuch slave from the hell of a galley. I then suddenly appreciated that he must have been acting on behalf of the Emperor and his description, of what had been undertaken to rectify the injustice inflicted on me, was his own way of trying to convey to me his Imperial master’s regret at what had happened.

“I thank you, sir, with all my heart,” I managed to reply. My mind was already full of unanswered questions relating to the fuller circumstances of my rescue but I was either too shocked by my salvation, and the nature of it, or too traumatised by my recent experiences to want to pursue immediate answers. At that moment, my sole wish was to depart the trireme for home.

In retrospect, I later realised that this was the first time that I had considered Rome, as opposed to the lands of my tribe in Britannia, to be my home. However, I then also recognised that the main reason for this subliminal change was the dear friends I had acquired in the largest city in the world. The ancient maxim of ‘home is where the heart is’ certainly now applied to me.

As our small rowboat plied the currently gentle waves between the two Imperial galleys, I glanced back at the new trireme that had almost become my permanent residence, and also probable eventual scene of my death. In the bright winter sunshine, the ship actually looked rather resplendent, as the oars of the poor thalamioi, of whom I had been a member, started ploughing the waves again to launch the vessel on its way south once more.

I began to compare the new trireme, which I had just left, with the older but much bigger galley to which I was now destined. The latter possessed a huge heavy three-pointed ram on the bow, whereas the former had a single upward curving tusk-like front.

I later learnt that rams of this newer type are mechanically weak and often snap off after impact, making them usable only once in an engagement. The captains of such vessels therefore tend to use their bows for ramming only as a weapon of last resort.

I also noticed that the larger super-galley, to which I was heading, possessed a massive forecastle, designed, once drawn up alongside an enemy ship in battle, literally to tower over its invariably smaller opponent. Roman naval preferences are for boarding ships and engaging in hand-to-hand combat, rather than using vessels themselves as mobile weapons.

Both galleys carried the customary single square mainsail, supplemented by a forward sloping boat sail, or ‘artemon’, each controlled by brailing lines. The sterns of the boats were also decorated with curved ‘aphlastons’, which on the bigger flagship incorporated the Emperor’s cabin. This accommodation was currently normally used by the commander of the vessel because Claudius rarely ventured to sea. However, the captain had kindly vacated the small but luxurious facility to permit its use by his unusual passengers, present by personal invitation of the Princeps, who had also instructed that they be afforded every courtesy.

I was also afforded every courtesy after embarking onto the flagship. Despite my disheveled and mucky appearance, the commander of the galley greeted me as if I was some high Imperial official, which, despite my slave status, was probably a reasonable attitude, given the trouble he had had to partake to pursue and retrieve me. However, my body still shuddered on my arrival, not now through any concerns for my own safety within my new surroundings but out of recognition of the hell that existed below my feet, even on the pride of the Imperial fleet.

My antipathy towards my new temporary home was only overcome by appreciation of two facts. First, the ship represented my personal salvation, which had obviously somehow been contrived by the undoubtedly amazing, ingenious and daring endeavours of others, for which I should not show ingratitude. Second, there was nothing that I could realistically do to alleviate the torment of the many galley slaves permanently incarcerated beneath me.

A large wooden tub full of hot water awaited me in the Emperor’s cabin of the Imperial flagship, thoughtfully ordered earlier by Gaius, who had perceptively anticipated the state that he might find me in. I was soon naked again, but this time gratefully in both the comforting warm liquid and the hands of my lover, who personally assisted my bathing whilst Hylas went to wash and dry my new but now stained tunic, as well as the recently inadvertently soiled toga of his master. As a consequence of his young slave’s undertaking, the young man from Volsinii just wore his own loincloth underwear whilst he attended to his own chore.

Gaius had already told me that this was no time for use of oil and strigil, but for the more plebeian utilisation of soap, water and sponge, an art that he had previously rarely practised but now proved adept at gently performing. After washing my head, arms and the front and back of my upper torso, whilst I was in a sitting position in the tub, my lover sensitively ordered me to stand so that he could visit the lower bits of my body. As the young man from Volsinii proceeded, he took particular care whilst cleansing my ravaged rear, especially when visiting the couple of fresh and ten older whip-marks present.

“Bastards!” Gaius exclaimed several times, with, for him, unusual profanity as he went about his work and, presumably, as he gained a close appreciation of the damage perpetrated on my body. However, my lover otherwise progressed with calm proficiency until his tasks brought him to the bathing of my gelded genitalia.

“You mightn’t have any balls,” Gaius then announced, with genuinely innocent and truthful intent to reassure, as he proceeded with this intimate chore, “but what you do possess between your legs is magnificently beautiful. There’s no scar visible and your cock’s smooth loveliness is complemented delightfully by its pleasant size.”

Having dried the scene with a towel, and pulled my copious uncut foreskin back to ensure that there was no hidden detritus underneath that could cause infection, Gaius seemingly could not help himself and leaned his head forward to introduce his sweet lips to the object of his current attention. My lover had done so many times before, in other circumstances, but my cock’s flaccidity had never changed. However, this had never deterred him from wanting to enjoy the oral taste and feel of my penis and, on this occasion, he was miraculously rewarded when my member showed signs of growth and erection, rising to a significant angle from the normal vertical.

My body also quivered in the same sort of pleasurable ecstasy enjoyed whenever Gaius’ own substantial member entertained my prostrate. Then, a little clear fluid oozed from my cockhead, as I experienced my first penile climax since becoming a eunuch. On observing my wondrous orgasm and tasting its delicious transparent product, the young man eventually stood up and embraced me once more, despite my bodily wetness. Nothing was immediately said. Instead, tears of mutual happiness flowed from our eyes.

Our celebratory embrace was interrupted and terminated by the return of Hylas, who was carrying a pot of herbal healing salve. On observing us, the boy immediately pleasantly suggested, with an accompanying giggle because he was attempting a jest by deliberately replicating Gaius’ earlier advice, “Now, you two, you’ll have plenty of time for this later!” The delightful pretty 6 year-old then went on to propound more seriously “If Bicilus is now clean, he’ll need ointment on his wounds forthwith before they turn nasty!”

Appreciating the wisdom of Hylas’ recommendation, Gaius released me so that I could remove my now clean naked body from the tub to allow my nude form to be carefully but thoroughly dried all over with towels, in a joint operation conducted by the 18 and 6 year-olds. I then lay face-down on the nearby waiting Imperial bunk to allow the pair gingerly to apply the salve to the wounds generated on the trireme by vicious leather whips and rampant human cocks. The young man from Volsinni and his younger assistant took particular caution when attending to my red-raw sphincter and rectum.

By the time the gentle manual manipulations of Gaius and Hylas had concluded, I was sleeping soundly. My much-needed slumber was undoubtedly aided by the fact that my stomach had apparently become accustomed to the motion of the galley that I was now on, perhaps because the ship’s massive size enabled the vessel to bestride calm seas with few rolling or undulating movements.

I would later learn that Gaius and Hylas, as similarly unused to sea travel as me, had taken the precaution, on the previous evening, of stripping in the privacy of the Emperor’s cabin, once the Imperial flagship had bravely set sail at dusk into stormy seas from Ostia. They sagely presumed that they would be ill and therefore did not want to spoil their clothes whilst they regularly poured the contents of their stomachs into waiting buckets. As they did so, they were happy not have their embarrassment watched by Titus Flavius Vespasianus. The sturdy 39 year-old general, seemingly impervious to bad weather and seasickness, had remained outside on the inclement windy rain-sodden deck with the captain, ensuring that his command to pursue the trireme relentlessly was carried out despite the deteriorating conditions.

Titus Flavius Vespasianus was now considerately similarly engaged, whilst necessary remedial attention was paid to the most recent damage inflicted on my body, which, fortunately, Gaius later declared should be completely repairable.

After I eventually awoke from my much-needed lengthy slumber, the flagship was already half way back to Ostia. Nevertheless, after consuming a delicious bowl of vegetable soup, provided from the captain’s own table via Gaius, there was still time for me to recount my own recent appalling experiences before, in turn, my lover answered the questions that I was now ready to ask relating to my miraculous salvation.

As Gaius and Hylas applied more salve on my rear once more, my lover, in response to my queries, initially enquired of himself, whilst sitting next to me on the Imperial bed, “Well, where should I begin?”

“Ah, yes,” the beautiful, in both character and physique, young man from Volsinii then declared, as his ointment-covered right forefinger gingerly probed my sore rectum, “let’s start with Apollinus and Britannicus!”

(Domus of Palaemon, Rome, the previous day, 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])

‘Concordia parvae res crescunt, discordia maximae dilabuntur.’

(‘The smallest things grow because of unity, the largest things fall apart because of disunity.’)

- Sallust

Apollinus had been given temporary leave by Britannicus to convey the urgent information, secured by the prince from his father, to Palaemon’s domus, where the renowned teacher had gathered with Gaius and Petronius to discuss further how I might be helped. The trio had already been alerted by the 16 year-old palace slave that his 7 year-old charge might be able to obtain the desperately needed data about the guests at the Imperial New Year celebration.

In the event, the son of Claudius had fulfilled his mission very speedily, diplomatically without alerting his father to his underlying enterprise. During a general conversation recalling the New Year party, Britannicus asked the Emperor about the identity of those who had stayed until the very end, whilst cleverly disguising his true need for the data by means of a jest. “I’d like to know,” the sweetly smiling 7 year-old had declared, “who were the most resilient court hangers-on!” Luckily, the Princeps, probably disarmed as usual by his young son’s delightful characteristics, laughed, accepting the enquiry as a joke, before thankfully also providing the required information.

The name of Titus Vinius immediately alerted Palaemon, Petronius and Axenius. The latter slave was present both to provide the appropriate hospitality for his master’s guests and to sit in on their debate as if he was one of their number, which he was for all intents and purposes in the renowned teacher’s loving eyes.

Petronius had ended his friendship with Titus Vinius when he began to appreciate what a dastardly dishonest, avaricious and nasty character the young man actually was behind a misleadingly pleasant and affable front. Meanwhile, Palaemon and Axenius knew that the young impoverished patrician, whose provincial parents had disowned him, was also a robber of expensive goblets.

You may recall, reader, from chapter 13 of my lengthy saga, that Titus Vinius had stolen a precious cup from Palaemon’s domus, during a short visit he had once made with Petronius to the renowned teacher's splendid residence.

At the time, Palaemon appreciated that the thief could only have been one of three people, namely Titus Vinius, Petronius or Axenius. However, the renowned teacher knew, from a thorough recognition of their true characters, that the miscreant would not be either of the latter pair.

Palemon was also sure that the real culprit both hoped and anticipated, perhaps from similar earlier experiences, that the slave would take the blame, as would have happened in most wealthy homes. However, the thief must not only have overestimated his host’s gullibility but also severely underestimated the relationship between master and servant.

Palaemon loved the beautiful blonde blue-eyed Axenius deeply and also perceived and respected the 18 year-old’s undoubted impeccable persona. In fact, the renowned teacher was so enamoured of his young slave that he had already, in his will and without yet telling the young Germanian, granted the blonde blue-eyed eunuch his freedom and nominated him as his heir.

Palaemon had, however, never previously mentioned the earlier robbery to Petronius, considerately not wanting to distress his younger friend with the news that he had unwittingly brought a calculating thief into the teacher’s home. The tutor’s resolve to forget the incident was fortified by the fact that the ‘elegentiae arbiter’ had split up with the dishonest young man shortly afterwards, presumably because he had discovered for himself his companion’s true nature.

Palaemon did, however, now disclose the earlier episode. He, Petronius, Axenius and Gaius therefore guessed correctly that Titus Vinius was a serial stealer of precious goblets and other tableware from hosts’ tables, especially when the devious young man thought that he could avoid detection by having suspicion fall instead on the slaves present.

Claudius’ immensely valuable golden cup, with inlaid precious stones, must have been too tempting for the impecunious Titus Vinius to forego the chance to steal. Palaemon and the others now presumed that the scheming young man must have waited for all the remaining guests at the Imperial New Year party to become inebriated and distracted, and for the attendant slaves to be discharged, before making his furtive move. They speculated that he probably slipped the unguarded goblet into the many hiding places afforded to such an object by the voluminous and complicated cover of patrician togas, timing matters that so that suspicion would fall on the last slave to be near the vessel before leaving. Of course, this servant unfortunately happened to be me, or perhaps I should say fortunately because I would not have wanted any of my colleagues to suffer as I had done. I doubt that anyone else would have been lucky enough to have friends like mine, willing to and capable of ultimately proving my innocence.

Despite their firm conjecture, Palaemon, Petronius, Gaius and Axenius, without the benefit of further help from Apollinus, because the latter had had to return to the Imperial palace, still had to prove their theories. It was the ‘elegentiae arbiter’, still aware of Titus Vinius’ habits, who came up with the idea of visiting the male brothel known as the ‘House of Cybele’.

(‘House of Cybele’, plebeian quarter, Rome, shortly afterwards)

‘Nothing is so difficult but that it may be found out by seeking.’

- Terence

Palaemon and Petronius had excused Gaius and Axenius from making the visit to the notorious brothel. This consideration was not just to protect the two 18 year-olds from potentially morally corrupting happenings in such a den of inequity, and the courtesy was also not afforded to shield the latter from possible painful remembrance of where he might once have ended up. In fact, the reason the renowned teacher and ‘elegentiae arbiter’ wanted to be unaccompanied was more to do with making the personages with whom they proposed to deal more comfortable. The formerly rakish pair was well known to not only the establishment’s owner but also many of the somehow moneyed dregs of society who formed a significant proportion of the bawdyhouse’s clientele. These included many criminals, whose prosperity might be fleeting or permanent, depending upon the present nature and success of their dishonest activities.

Palaemon and Petronius, previous habitual patrons of the brothel, appreciated that the establishment was not only still a regular haunt of Titus Vinius but also the major cause of the young man’s current impecuniousness. The young patrician was known to have wasted much money here on boy whores and, in particular, unsuccessful gambling. It therefore seemed the logical place for him to come to sell his ill-gotten gain, probably to a person who could arrange for the too easily recognisable goblet to be deprived of the jewel inlays before the residual gold was melted down.

Palaemon and Petronius hoped to track the goblet down and buy the cup before the very expensive vessel suffered such desecration, somehow accruing evidence of Titus Vinius’ guilt in respect of its illicit procurement along the way. In fact, the payment of several gold coins to the brothel-keeper immediately led to the door, in the same neighbourhood, of a shifty general merchandiser.

Further substantial expenditure led to a nearby metallurgy workshop. Many more aurei, equivalent to two decades’ wages for a typical plebeian, along with yet another promise of secrecy relating to source of information and restitution of the thieved article, finally secured Claudius’ goblet, still intact. However, the second objective of the mission, concerning the procurement of clear evidence of Titus Vinius’ role in the original disappearance of the cup, had not yet been fulfilled.

No-one was prepared to bear public witness against the thief for two understandable reasons. First, people feared retribution from the Imperial authorities for their own parts in processing the stolen goods. Second, even if they secured amnesty, they worried with cause that Titus Vinius, some of his disreputable friends or the criminal underworld in general, which disliked informers, would instead secure terrible vengeance.

After Palaemon and Petronius reconvened with the recovered goblet in the domus of the former, it was Gaius who came up with the plan to secure Titus Vinius’ voluntary confession, in front of a witness whose evidence could not later easily be dismissed, either by the defendant or the Imperial authorities.

(Lodgings of Titus Vinius, plebeian quarter, Rome, shortly afterwards)

‘In the one hand he is carrying a stone, while he shows the bread in the other.’

- Plautus

In response to Titus Vinius’ question of “What do you want to talk about?” Petronius retrieved Claudius’ goblet from within his toga and banged it on the small table that separated host from guest, and which was as rickety as the chairs they sat on. “I’d like to talk about this!” the ‘elegentiae arbiter’ advised his suddenly red-faced friend.

Titus Vinius was momentarily too shocked to respond. However, he was not a good sneak thief for nothing, and he quickly re-gathered his normal cool composure to ask “What do you mean? What is it?”

“I believe you know,” Petronius replied, “because you stole it from the Emperor!”

“You really don’t expect me to confess to doing that, do you?” the suddenly smirking Titus Vinius eventually retorted, after a further pause to compose his answer and with developing amusement, rather than apprehension or shame, now evident on his face.

“Actually I do,” Petronius announced, “at least to me. You know that I couldn’t do anything with your confession without at least one other reliable witness, and very young boy slaves simply aren’t acceptable for that purpose.” The ‘elegentiae arbiter’ gestured, with apparent disrespectful dismissal, towards his own diminutive attendant, standing discreetly in a corner of the shabby room, head still covered by the cloak of his hood.

Titus Vinius’ smirk grew wider when he glanced at the tiny form in the corner before returning his gaze to his adult accuser. “I did not know you fancied little boys,” the thief announced, “as I thought that you preferred older youths.”

“Times and tastes change,” Petronius suggested with convincing philosophical conviction. The ‘elegentiae arbiter’ then advised “I’d like to confirm the real perpetrator or perpetrators of the theft for a particular reason. With others, I’ve been asked to help by the equestrian lover of the young slave who’s accused of, and supposed to have confessed to, the crime. We realise that we’ll be incapable of influencing the verdict, even if the boy’s actually innocent, because what information we’ve garnered so far about the larceny is not provable and could be open to charges of defamation. Instead, we’re currently considering begging Narcissus to award a less severe sentence for the young convicted criminal than banishment to the galleys, in return for the successful restitution undamaged of the Emperor’s precious goblet and a financial consideration for the Imperial secretary. However, we don’t want to waste our time and money if the brat’s truly guilty of involvement.”

“I’ve already been told by an impeccable source,” Petronius continued without flinching, “that you were the one who sold the cup on the black market, but I’d like to learn, for the reasons explained, whether the boy helped to steal it in the first place. Also, if you’re so destitute to have been tempted to participate in the theft, I might be able to help you financially for old time’s sake.” The ‘elegentiae arbiter’ now spilled a number of gold aurei onto the tabletop, from a small cloth bag he was holding, before then adding truthfully “I assure you that I will not disclose to anyone any admission of guilt that you might care to make!”

Titus Vinius looked at the valuable coins, bearing Claudius’ profile and shining in the sunlight that filtered in from the nearby small window. The young man then weighed matters up in his mind for a few moments.

“You’ve suddenly become rich!” Titus Vinius eventually charged Petronius with suspicion, his former friend having previously not been known to be wealthy. However, the young man’s concerns seemed alleviated when the ‘elegentiae arbiter’ replied “I’ve luckily acquired some rich patrons who are kindly sponsoring my writings!”

“You’re right, of course,” the grinning thief now declared with perception, “you’d be unable to use any admission of guilt on my part, even if you wanted to, without a proper second witness.” He then eagerly began to gather up the tempting coinage in his hands whilst beginning his confession.

Titus Vinius proceeded with evident boastfulness, perhaps induced by misplaced pride at his criminal capabilities and realisation that, after he had concluded, he was not going to gain more from an association with the upright and clearly appalled Petronius. “I’ve therefore nothing to lose,” the young man suggested, “by telling you that yes, I stole the goblet, and I needed no help from any slave brat. The taster wasn’t my collaborator because I’m too adept at thieving to need one. I was helped, however, by the fact that the young eunuch must have been a real coward to agree to his own guilt before being put to the question.”

Titus Vinius now made it clear that he wanted the unexpected but apparently highly profitable encounter to end forthwith, without further elaboration of his brief admission. The young man was perhaps spurred in his intent by finally being embarrassed by the expression of disgust on Petronius’ face.

Titus Vinius indicated his desire by standing up and beginning to walk to open the front door, whilst brusquely advising “That’s all the confession you’ll get. Thanks for the money and goodbye!” Petronius acknowledged the host’s obvious hint that the ‘elegentiae arbiter’ was no longer welcome and began to follow, as did his young slave.

Having encouraged his now unwanted guests through the proffered door into the outside rain, the smirking Titus Vinius, pleased with the unexpected but very short and highly lucrative meeting, reminded Petronius “Don’t forget you promised not to tell a soul about my confession!”

“But I didn’t” retorted a young boy’s voice.

Titus Vinius immediately looked down to observe the shedding, despite the rain, of the hood belonging to the cloak of Petronius’ slave. The young man then felt extremely queasy when he saw the happy, smiling, pretty face now staring up at him.

“Thanks for the information,” declared Britannicus, dressed in clothing belonging to a similarly aged son of one of his personal palace slaves, “as I’ll now pass it on to my father. By the way, the eunuch wasn’t a coward at all when he easily but falsely confessed to your crime. He just wanted to save a friend from being tortured. Goodbye for now, but expect to hear soon from others from the palace!”

As the young prince and his equally pleased older companion then proceeded to walk down the narrow filthy street outside Titus Vinius’ lodgings, they ignored the sound of their erstwhile host fainting. Instead, the pair soon met up with Apollinus, Palaemon, Axenius, Gaius and Hylas, who were sheltering from the rain in a nearby doorway, whilst eagerly awaiting news as to whether the mission of the ‘elegentiae arbiter’ and the son of Claudius had been successful.

(Imperial palace, Rome, shortly afterwards)

‘Ex vito alterius sapiens emendat suum.’

(‘From the mistake of the other man, the wise man corrects his own.’)

- Publius Syrus

Claudius, served by a new young eunuch taster, whom the Emperor found inefficient and surly, was in audience with Titus Flavius Vespasianus, discussing the priestly honour he was proposing to bestow on the general for his support in the coup over two months previously. The Princeps was then surprised that his young son had the audacity and effrontery to disrupt such an occasion, which was also attended by Narcissus, until he saw what Britannicus was carrying.

The current holder of the purple unsurprisingly then listened to the prince’s explanation for his interruption, additionally permitting further witnesses into his presence to clear matters further. Accordingly, Palaemon, Petronius and Gaius were granted entry into the vast ornate audience chamber.

Shortly afterwards, Titus Flavius Vespasianus volunteered his services to help the Emperor, and the embarrassed Narcissus, to rectify an injustice, with the assistance of the young equestrian from Volsinii and his younger slave.

(Imperial palace, Rome, dies Veneris A.D. IV Id. Ian. DCCCII A.V.C., in the 8th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [Friday, 10th January, AD 49])

‘He was not short of either authority or dignity when he was standing or sitting down, still less so when he reclined. He was tall but not lanky, and good looking, with a fine crop of white hair and a well-set neck. But his knees were so weak that he staggered as he walked, and his habits were embarrassing whether he was indulging in business or domestic affairs. He had an indecent laugh, and when he was annoyed he foamed disgustingly at the mouth and his nose ran. He stammered, and his head twitched the whole time, but faster when was actually engaged in the slightest activity. He was always ill, until he became Emperor. Then his health improved marvellously, except for attacks of stomachache, which he said even made him think of suicide.’

- Suetonius (‘Claudius’, 30.31)

Restitution of Claudius’ precious goblet having been achieved, restitution of what I hoped would be the Emperor’s equally valuable taster occurred over a week later, once restitution of body normality had been sufficiently secured to permit my return to duty.

I had already been greeted in the palace by genuine profound apologies from Narcissus, as well as clear delight by Apollinus and his prince, both of whom I thanked profusely for their roles in my salvation. I had also discovered the fate of Titus Vinius.

Titus Vinius was not sent to the galleys. Nor, indeed, did he suffer any punishment worse than exile from Rome. The entreaties of his current sexual patron, Servius Sulpicius Galba, to whom the Emperor owed a few favours, saved him.

The general, himself deceived by the desperate false pleas of Titus Vinius, propounded to the Princeps that the young man was basically honest and had removed the goblet simply as a drunken jest, only to panic subsequently, once he had sobered, and sell the cup to cover up his misdeed.

Titus Vinius’ untruthful case was also helped by Claudius’ clearly mistaken belief that Roman patricians were incapable of stooping so low as to steal for personal reward. The Emperor, of course, should have known better, especially after the departure, with Messalina’ assistance, of many of his palace’s most valuable ornaments to Caius Silius’ urban villa during the course of the previous year.

As a consequence of the general’s successful pleas and the Princeps’ misplaced forgiveness, Titus Vinius ended up in Germania Superior, where Servius Sulpicius Galba had recently been governor and still had some influence. The young man was actually to enjoy a rather pleasant existence there, in marked contrast to that originally earmarked for me on the galley, his patron having secured him a minor sinecure.

Although the position carried no great financial reward for doing virtually no work, what Titus Vinius earned was sufficient to tide him over until, after Claudius’ eventual death, and whilst still under the patronage of Servius Sulpicius Galba, he felt safe to return to Rome. The young man’s monetary liquidity was assisted by the facts that the cost of living in Germania Superior is far less than in the Imperial capital and such a provincial backwater has far fewer disreputable establishments in which to spend and gamble lavishly.

Having eventually become aware of the patrician thief’s identity, true nature and role in my recent misfortune, I naturally harboured a grudge against him. However, I have to confess that I am not the vengeful type. Nevertheless, twenty years later, I was to secure unexpected and genuinely unsought retribution on both Titus Vinius and the man who had saved him from Claudius’ full wrath.

Meanwhile, it was now the turn of the Emperor to meet me once more. I was assigned to be taster to Claudius again at an evening cena at which he planned to dine alone. I believe that the Princeps deliberately arranged with Narcissus for my return to service to be timed for such a solitary occasion because of the apologetic intimacy of what he wanted to say.

“Well, Bicilus,” Claudius began with a grin, as he entered the dining room to lay alone on his couch, “look at all the trouble y….y….you’ve caused so many people just because y….y….you wanted the enjoyment of a pleasant sea voyage!” I appreciated instantly that the invariably stammering Emperor was trying to put both of us at ease by his jest. I therefore returned the Princeps’ smile, but I then noticed dampness in the eyes of the most powerful man in the world when he finally came close.

Claudius now unexpectedly gently held my chin up, apparently to gain a better appreciation of my visage. “I’m sorry,” the Emperor then declared, amidst his usual stuttering, “I sh….sh….should have trusted my own instincts. I thought that y….y….your beautiful face could not belong to a th….th….thief or traitor. However, my belief in being able to judge such won….won….wondrous sights has been shaken of late by the per….per….perfidy of someone whom I thought was devoted to me. I therefore hope that y….y….you’ll forgive me for extending my misjudgment to you.” However, I felt it difficult to answer because of both the manner in which the Princeps held my head and my inability to find appropriate words.

Nevertheless, Claudius continued regardless with more appreciated flattery, whilst still viewing my uplifted face. “I should pr….pr….pray to the gods for my preferences to be different. I’m s….s….sure that I’d be much better off being in love with a lovely b….b….boy like you. However, I’ve long re….re….realised that my t….t….tastes only extend to women. Oh, poor me, what a s….s….silly slave I am of b….b….beautiful females. I know that sometimes I’m just p….p….putty in their hands, as I was with my l….l….last wife. Let’s h….h….hope that such a s….s….situation isn’t r….r….repeated!” As the 58 year-old Princeps then let go of my chin, and wiped a tear that had begun to run from his left eye before finally reclining on his couch, I shared his aspiration. My own wish was intensified by recognition that one of the main candidates to succeed Messalina was the mother of the obnoxious Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus. I shuddered to think of what might become of the Emperor and his Empire if the pair gained a foothold on power.

Meanwhile, I discretely signalled to the servants responsible for actually serving Claudius’ dinner to bring in the first flagon of drink and initial dish for me to taste, before the fare was passed for consumption to my Imperial master. The Emperor’s wine was on this occasion, perhaps very appropriately, presented to him in the returned precious goblet that had been a gift from his boyhood friend, Herod Agrippa. As the Princeps sipped the cup’s contents, I, a mere young barbarian eunuch slave, could not but feel pity for the most powerful man in the world, as he lay solemnly besides me.

Later, towards the end of his cena, the Emperor obviously felt the need for companionable conversation and he unexpectedly turned to me. I was still positioned to his side, ready to taste whatever fresh fare he wanted to consume next.

“P….p.…pull up a stool,” Claudius commanded, “and come and t….t….tell me about yourself. I b….b….believe that you’re from Br….Br….Br….Br….Br….Br….” “Britannia, Sire,” I eventually intervened to help. “Yes, yes, that place,” the Emperor responded, but with a grin not annoyance.

I obeyed my Imperial master, although sitting on a wooden stool next to him was rather uncomfortable, given that my bottom had still not recovered fully from the whipping and multiple rape recently suffered. My position was also incongruous, as Claudius was reclining alone on a couch made to accommodate three, and there were two similar empty adjacent divans.

My eyes could not help but occasionally glance longingly on the cushions that provided the couches with a pleasant soft surface, which contrasted sharply to the discomforting hardness of my small three-legged wooden seat. However, I suppose that the Emperor was just instinctively adhering to custom, whereby slaves and children invited to share dining facilities are expected to use stools not couches.

I was, of course, in Claudius’ eyes qualified on both counts, slavery and childhood, for a stool, even though, if I was a Roman citizen at nearly 17 years of age, I would have qualified for the toga virilis of manhood by now. However, as I still looked not much more than 14, the emperor could be excused for still considering me to be a boy.

At Claudius’ request, supplemented by many gentle prompts when recall appeared to become painful, I related to him my memories of my early childhood, and of my people and homeland in Britannia. I appraised the Emperor of when, where and how I had been captured and brought to Rome and when, where and how my parents and siblings had died. I also told the Princeps about my castration and subsequent life as a menial servant in the service of Caius Silius. I concluded with a description of my more recent experiences as a galley slave.

Dampness had returned to Claudius’ eyes by the time that I had finished my lengthy monologue. I remain unsure to this day what precisely induced the Emperor’s further melancholy. Perhaps it was the crucial role that he had played in altering my destiny, given that it was he who had ordered the invasion of Britannia for no better reason than to gain glory to consolidate his own position. Perhaps it was the fact that he presided over an Empire where many cruel injustices were perpetrated, especially on slaves. Perhaps it was neither of these considerations, just solemnity that the most powerful man in the world had been forced to secure the company of a young slave to indulge him in conversation, or perhaps it was some other factor entirely.

Perhaps, though, I gained a true insight into what had caused Claudius’ lachrymose display when, after a quiet pause for reflection at what I had related, the Emperor announced “By the way, B….B….Bicilus, in return for the r….r….restitution of my favourite cup and efficient, loyal, honest taster to my s….s….service, I’ve decided to arrange the future r….r….estitution of something that might be of im….im….importance to you!”

As such restitution could not possibly involve my balls, unless some miraculous cure for a lack of testes had been discovered or invented, I at first wondered what the Princeps could be talking about. After the now smiling Claudius then told me, I could not prevent a couple of tears running down my own cheeks, but of grateful happiness not morose melancholy.

(Imperial trireme, Alexandria, Aegytia, one month later, dies Lunae A.D. IV Id. Feb. DCCCII A.V.C., in the 8th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [Monday, 10th February, AD 49])

‘I know, indeed, the evil of that I purpose; but my inclination gets the better of my judgment.’

- Euripides

Sadly, exactly a month later, the opposite meaning of restitution was ultimately being perpetrated in the capital of the Roman province of Aegyptia, the great port of Alexandria.

The supposedly fast trireme had, on its maiden voyage, eventually reached its planned destination after a long journey, extended by the bad weather encountered during the out-of-season crossing of the Mare Internum. The captain of the galley, charged with testing the new ship’s capabilities in poor conditions, was displeased with the overall performance, wondering how it could be improved on the return trip to Rome. This was not scheduled for another month, as repairs and alterations had to be made to the vessel, and so the officer knew that he had time both to formulate and act on his eventual decisions.

During his deliberations, the captain apparently thought of me again. The first person to discover what was the officer’s resultant bright idea happened to be a young galley slave named, perhaps appropriately in the circumstances, Servius.

Servius was 20 years old, and had until recently been regarded as very handsome, especially by the many girls and homosexual lechers who had lusted after him. However, his relatively small stature, and lack of fulsome muscle on lithe limbs, had caused him to be classified as a thalamioi on the galley, just as I had been.

Accordingly, Servius’ status on the galley, and resultant placement below the thranitai and zygita, had caused, during the voyage from Rome, his once handsome, invariably impeccably clean form to change, and not for the better. The young man became not only somewhat emaciated, by his strenuous efforts, poor diet and regular seasickness, but also very filthy from the bodily products cast down on him from his colleagues above. The eventual decrepit physical condition of the 20 year-old, by the time that Alexandria was reached, was only partially assuaged by frequent swilling from buckets of chilling seawater.

Consequently, when Servius was ultimately unchained from his oar to be, by virtue of his forward position in the hold, the first galley slave to be dragged upstairs to the deck above, the waiting sailors initially concentrated on cleaning up the 20 year-old’s naked body as best they could. It was the first time in over a month that the young man had been released from his position on the hull below and exposed to daylight, actions that, like me, he had been told not to expect to experience so soon.

Servius took quite a while to focus on his unexpected surroundings. The 20 year-old had not only to re-accustom himself to being under a bright sun once more but also to dry his eyes as a result of the many buckets of water thrown over him, to try to secure some restitution of cleanliness to his slim nude form. The result that emerged was a very pleasant body, despite its recent stressed existence, evident by loss of weight and several unhealed whip-marks. The revealed form pleased many of the watching sailors, who had not yet found a replacement for me as a sex toy, as the voyage from Rome had been too arduous to bother. Many maritime cocks experienced growth within the secret confines of naval underwear at the sight.

Servius was not naturally hirsute, even currently having little growth on his unshaved chin. His body was therefore largely hairless, apart from that on top of his head, his barely perceptible beard and a small tuft crowning his substantial low-hanging genitalia, which currently comprised a long broad flaccid cock, with large twin scrotal orbs dangling nicely underneath.

It was Servius’ bodily smoothness in particular that attracted many of the sailors, who were already planning amongst themselves to enjoy the young man’s charms when possible. Before so indulging, they proposed to shave the young slave’s face and genitals to provide the illusion of boyhood, which the majority preferred their sex toys to exhibit in the absence of women.

Despite the coolness of the seawater thrown over him, Servius did not shiver for too long because of the heat from the unrelenting sun overhead. It might be winter at present but Aegyptia did not seem to recognise such a season.

Servius soon had another cause to generate more bodily warmth, a phenomenon which was now accompanied by a noticeable sweat, when his cleaner nude form was tied immovably, in a standing spreadeagled position, between the punishment post, which I knew so well, and the nearby mainsail mast. The 20 year-old’s eyes were just beginning to dry and to adjust to the strong sunlight so that he could better appreciate his surrounds, which, on another occasion, he might have recognised as being magnificent.

The trireme was berthed in Alexandria’s main harbour. The huge lighthouse, known as the Pharos and one of the wonders of the world, was nearby. The quayside, lined with many other impressive buildings, including many warehouses, was also bustling with human activity.

Not far away, the outline of the great library now boasted the new Claudian extension, constructed in honour of the genuine literary achievements of the present Princeps. Alexander the Great also slumbered eternally in his transparent sarcophagus, in the great mausoleum built for him over 370 years earlier by his half-brother, the first of many Pharaohs of Aegyptia to be known by the name of Ptolemy. The whole port was additionally crowded with a vast number of ships, of various designs and nationalities and from all over the Mare Internum.

Many of the boats were responsible for maintaining Rome, in all its supposed glory, by delivering the vital Aegyptian wheat on which most of the poorer populace of the Imperial capital relied. Claudius was well aware of the dangers of not ensuring adequate supplies from the rich eastern province. The Emperor was once, whilst appearing in public, abused and pelted with rotten vegetables by an angry mob when bad weather and other factors had delayed the award of the corn dole to the city’s plebeians. It was mainly to prevent a recurrence of such disfavour that the Princeps had instigated improvements to the harbour at Ostia.

Such matters were, of course, currently far from Servius’ mind, especially when his mouth was now gagged by leather strapping. The oral impediment was needed to prevent him from damaging his lips and tongue, and to prevent his screams from alerting the other galley slaves as to what was happening on the deck above them.

None of the crew wanted to be subsequently transferring troublesome resistant galley slaves from hold to upper deck, especially as there were still 157 more to process. Of the original 170, I had, of course, already left the trireme via the Imperial flagship whilst 11 others had departed via the sea, having been thrown overboard because they had had the discourtesy to die or become irretrievably useless during the terrible maiden voyage from Rome. However, the lost numbers would soon be compensated by the acquisition of more condemned criminals from the prisons of Alexandria, who would, in turn, receive the same treatment now being perpetrated on Servius and the other present operators of the trireme’s oars.

Not unreasonably, given his new circumstance, Servius was aware that something unpleasant was now going to happen to him. At first, the 20 year-old wondered whether he had been singled out for formal punishment for some unknown reason. However, after his large low-hanging scrotum was tightly and painfully tied with thin leather cord, and he saw a smirking bare-chested sailor, armed with a razor-sharp knife, move behind him, the appalled young man suddenly realised what was about to occur.

Servius, of course, did not yet know the reason for his imminent castration, or that of his 157 surviving colleagues below. In fact the trireme’s captain, given the idea by my earlier presence on his ship, had decided to experiment by having a full complement of eunuch galley slaves on the return journey to Rome. The officer figured that inherent masculine sexual drive might often deflect his rowers’ minds from the need to provide full drive for his vessel.

The captain therefore concluded that loss of manhood might enable the galley slaves to concentrate better on their primary function in life. The officer also appreciated that another benefit would be that less bodily waste product would have to be regularly swilled away, as useless semen would no longer subsequently form part of the human detritus created in the hold of his trireme.

As Servius’ immobile naked form quivered in anguish, whilst the sailor’s hand painfully grabbed the 20 year-old’s vulnerable testicles to squeeze and pull them harshly downwards to stretch the endangered scrotum, the imminent castration victim failed in his efforts to plea for mercy. No-one took any notice of his muffled cries, his now tearful shaking head, repeatedly trying to convey the word ‘No’, or his begging eyes. Instead, the young man felt a cold blade come to rest on the upper rear of his doomed ball sac, presented by the man now kneeling behind him to conduct the act of emasculation.

Despite the tragic situation in which Servius now found himself, his large penis had become incongruously rigid, throbbing visibly up and down from a horizontal starting point. Then, as the 20 year-old’s distraught mind began to feel the knife begin to sever his manhood, his cockhead exploded, spilling copious creamy white sperm onto the deck as far as a pace in front of him. Such common phenomena was the reason why the sailor, conducting the multiple geldings because he also doubled as a medic for the trireme crew, had chosen to perform the deed from the rears of his many victims.

As Servius’ body convulsed, within the confines of his unyielding constraints whilst experiencing a strange mixture of ecstatic pleasure, excruciating pain and acute shame, the 20 year-old’s intensely anguished mind somehow recalled, over a fleeting moment of time, the reason for him being in such an awful situation.

Servius was an only child who had inherited not only a small unproductive Calabrian landholding from his peasant widower father two years previously but also many debts. The latter had forced the then 18 year-old, newly married with a baby daughter, to sell up and, like many before him, go to try to seek greater fortune in Rome. Also like many before him, the young man’s hopes of a better life, for himself, his wife and child, were dashed by the reality of existence for many plebeians in the capital, where unemployment was high and the skills of honest agricultural workers were of little use.

Servius and his family had found themselves living for 20 months in a decrepit overcrowded tenement block in one of Rome’s worst and most unhygienic quarters, relying on the occasional short-term labouring job and the corn dole to survive. Then, one day, after returning to his tiny sad home after many hours’ fruitless search for new work, the young man found only rubble where he, his wife and child had once lived. Poor original construction, and lack of subsequent proper upkeep, had caused the tall building to collapse, killing many occupants. Such a dreadful occurrence is unfortunately not an uncommon phenomenon in Rome.

After later attending the pauper’s funeral of his spouse and baby, Servius went in search not of work but of his former landlord, who had shown no remorse for trying to maximise profits by skimping on the correct maintenance of the tenement. The now 20 year-old eventually managed to confront the property owner in one of the crowded streets of the plebeian quarter.

Servius planned no harm to the dubious landlord, intending instead just to give him the benefit of the views of his deeply grieving and distraught mind about the man’s business ethics. Unfortunately, the 20 year-old, not easily riled to temper, had been unable to endure with calm patience the property owner’s disinterested and condescending attitude.

Accordingly, Servius had punched the landlord, striking him squarely on the chin. However, the blow did not just render the property owner unconscious because, as he fell, he struck his head against a stone post, normally used for hitching horses. The man’s skull fractured and he was dead before his body reached the cobbled ground.

Servius, no coward and naively a believer in the fairness of the Roman judicial system, mainly because he had had no real prior experience of it in operation, did not flee, knowing that the landlord’s death had been an unintentional accident. The 20 year-old instead allowed himself to be taken into the custody of the authorities, being willing to allow justice to take its course.

Servius’ belief that he would ultimately be proved innocent, of anything other than hitting someone in justified anger, was not even deflected when he realised that he would have to plead his own case before the city’s magistrates, not having the wherewithal to afford a defence rhetorician. Regrettably, both for the young man’s wellbeing and the reputation of Imperial jurisprudence, the 20 year-old, after spending two months in the hellhole that was Rome’s main prison, found that he was no match for the prosecution advocate, who was funded by the dead landlord’s vengeful family. The result was despatch to the galleys for life.

Servius’ mind returned to the painful and stressful present, where a leather bucket had been placed just in front of him. The aghast and tremulous 20 year-old, confused by his plight and the acute excruciation experienced in his groin, first appreciated that he had become a eunuch when he saw an accurately thrown fleshy object fly past him to land neatly in the pail. However, his appalled eyes and hurting body had little time to contemplate that this observance represented the post-severance storage of his own detached ball sac. Instead, unconsciousness overwhelmed him, as the cauterising iron was applied to his awful genital wound.

When Servius woke, he found that he had been relocated to the floor at the side of the deck. The new eunuch’s hands were manacled tightly behind him, his ankles were similarly shacked together and his mouth was still gagged. The 20 year-old looked down at his amended genitalia, source of much suffering. There, the young man noticed his incongruously still erect penis, cockhead still oozing residual cum, but with nothing underneath except an agonising black wound where the base of his scrotum should have been.

Despite his physical pain and mental trauma, Servius then looked up to observe that another galley slave had already taken his place, spreadeagled between the punishment post and main mast. In fact, as the new 20 year-old eunuch lay immobile and in great anguish, resulting from his constant physical agony and mental distress, the latter created by recognition that he was no longer a true man, another 157 castration victims were to suffer in front of his devastated eyes.

The unveiling horror was such that Servius actually began not to notice his own acute discomfort, now added to by roasting for a whole day under the unrelenting overhead sun. The 20 year-old’s shocked grief-stricken mind somehow concentrated instead on the dreadful drama being perpetrated in front of him on the trireme’s deck.

Meanwhile, almost 30 happy sailors also observed the spectacle. However, unlike the silenced victims, they regularly laughed and made loud ribald comments, as over five times their number were deprived of their masculinity.

The many geldings were pursued with sinister efficiency, the whole messy scene becoming somewhat akin to scenes in one of the Empire’s abattoirs. The deck around the punishment post and main mast became so awash with blood, and the last sperm created by the galley slaves, that the wooden surface had to be regularly mopped. The leather bucket, containing the severed scrotums, also had to have the contents, rapidly putrefying under the hot sun, tipped overboard a couple of times in order to make room for more. It seemed that the sea creatures, inhabiting the harbour waters of Alexandria that day, would have interesting delicacies to sample for their supper.

At the end of the whole terrible day-long process to create 158 new eunuchs, 5 of whom would not eventually survive their castration, the sailor, who had taken the manhood of the galley slaves, complained to anyone who cared to listen about sore hands. His lengthy work had apparently created several blisters on his fingers and palms.

You may wonder, reader, how I, now safe in faraway Rome, came to learn about this dreadful episode to be able to recount it to you so graphically. Well, as you will find out if you continue to follow my saga, Servius himself described his appalling experience to me.

As the unwitting progenitor of the trireme captain’s appalling idea, I could not, of course, compensate Servius for the forfeiture of his manhood, in the same way that no-one could truly recompense me for my own similar loss. However, I was, one day, happy to be able to improve his lot in life quite substantially.

(Imperial palace, Rome, same time)

‘(Agrippina had) a niece’s privilege of kissing and caressing Claudius and exercised it with a noticeable effect on his passions.’

- Suetonius

It was the eve of Britannicus’ 8th birthday.

Claudius was not currently dining but I was with him supposedly in case he wanted to indulge in some fruit or wine. The Emperor was expecting a private visit from his niece, 33 year-old Agrippina. I had only seen the beautiful woman once before, at Caius Silius’ great banquet, 2½ years previously, although I was aware that she had become a regular visitor to the palace since Messalina’s demise. The Emperor had invariably temporarily discharged me from his service before she arrived. I am unsure why I remained present this time. Perhaps, knowing what might happen, he sought some protection from the predatory female. If he did, I, alas, was not to provide it.

When Agrippina appeared, I was shocked by her audacious attire, which principally comprised an unusually low-cut stola. The garment not only revealed her buxom breasts, almost down to her nipples, but also was the type of dress usually confined to brothels. I was additionally surprised by her brazen lack of formality in front of the Emperor. The beautiful temptress breezed into the large ornate but quiet audience chamber and, after greeting the Princeps with the words “Hello, Claudius”, immediately sat on the knees of the current holder of the purple.

Agrippina then shamelessly began to caress gently the Emperor’s face and silvery hair, whilst declaring in a very seductive feminine voice, “My, Claudius, you’re looking both well and particularly handsome today!” Meanwhile, the subject of her attentions peered down her substantial and inviting cleavage, whilst beginning to pant and foam at the mouth like a dog.

I have to confess that I wondered at the time, without coming to an answer, why the Imperial niece called the Princeps by his name rather than use the term ‘uncle’. It was only later that I realised that she would want to play down such a familial relationship in favour of presenting herself simply as an attractive and available potential bride.

Agrippina, obviously not wanting to share Claudius’ time with anyone, even his discreet young slave taster, then glanced at me before returning her seductive stare to the Emperor. “Does he have to be here,” the woman asked, with clear disdainful disrespect towards me evident in her highlighting of the word ‘he’, before enquiring “can’t we instead be alone together?”

“Y….y….y….you m….m….may g….g….go!” the now red-faced salivating Claudius managed to splutter. It appeared that the Emperor’s well-known, not least by himself, usually self-harming weakness was coming to the fore again, and that there was little that anyone, including himself or myself, could do to correct the situation.

I certainly believed, from now knowing Claudius better, that the Princeps was liable just to surrender abjectly to clever feminine guile, which expertly played on his needy heterosexuality. Thus, the most powerful man in the world would likely prove to be his own worst enemy once more by being unable to resist the ardent attentions of a beautiful and shameless woman.

I therefore felt both great sorry and worry for the holder of the purple. This had caused me, during the past month, when Claudius had again dined without guests and wanted me to converse with him, to take the opportunity to ask the Emperor a question, in a futile attempt to deflect any such future foolishness. I enquired, with greater diplomacy than I imply here, why he did not just satisfy himself with some young attractive servant girls instead of foraying in the shark-infested sea of Rome’s feminine nobility. The Princeps had just smiled and replied “Look at my d….d….decrepit form and its m….m….mannerisms. I’m not prepared to f….f….foist this on a helpless slave who’s in no p….p….position to deny me. No, it’s only f….f….fair that anyone who has the st….st….stomach to share my b….b….bed is r….r….rewarded by b….b….becoming Empress, as she’ll r….r….really be earning her p….p….position!”

Claudius’ explanation only reinforced my conviction that the Emperor, like his marvellous son, truly had some care for the welfare of the servants of the Imperial household. Thinking of the late unlamented Caius Silius, I wished that others in Rome and its vast Empire could display similar consideration. However, I then also wondered whether the Princeps’ worthy sexual restraint, in respect of his female slaves, was actually unwise in the wider context of Imperial affairs.

I had remembered Claudius’ earlier words, when he had confided in me a month previously. “Oh, poor me,” the Emperor had then suggested, “what a s….s….silly slave I am of b….b….beautiful females. I know that sometimes I’m just p….p….putty in their hands, as I was with my l….l….last wife. Let’s h….h….hope that such a s….s….situation isn’t r….r….repeated!”

I bowed to Claudius and his sexually blatant and obsequious niece and departed the scene, with a strange feeling of sorrowful foreboding as to what might now happen, not just on that day to the Emperor but as a consequence of that day to his Empire.

(To be continued in chapter XXVII- ‘Brothers’)