(Dacia, Iulius, DCCCLIX [July, 106 AD])

My most worthy scribe, who is the son-in-law of a character named in this chapter, has just resumed his recording of my very long autobiography after waiting patiently whilst my likeness was drawn by a very competent artist. My current Imperial master has commissioned such portraitists to ensure that the various people who took part in his recent highly successful campaigning in Dacia are accurately depicted for posterity in the celebratory monument he proposes to erect.

I understand that my current Imperial master, who is the son of another character mentioned in a recent chapter of my autobiography, proposes to erect a great column in Rome to record his Dacian campaign. I shall be portrayed on the monument somewhere but I doubt that I shall now live long enough to find out precisely where. However, my biggest regret is that my beloved Gaius cannot be depicted for posterity alongside me.

I shall therefore just have to hope that the plaque, which I have commissioned with our carved names and likenesses on to guard the urn, in which our mixed ashes will hopefully rest for eternity, will be just as good a memorial to our time and achievements in this world. If not, I pray that this autobiography will instead suffice.

(Imperial palace, Palatine Hill, Rome, almost 54 years previously, September DCCV A.V.C. [52 AD])

‘A rigorous, almost a masculine, despotism.’

"Now, Claudius," Agrippina, the Emperor’s formidable wife, commented to her husband, who had just returned from his summer sojourn to Baiae, "don’t you fret about anything. The Empire’s been administered well whilst you’ve been away and so there’s nothing about which you should concern yourself. Why don’t you instead have a pleasant nap and then some dinner with that nice young food-taster of yours?"

Agrippina was, of course, referring to me, whom she mistakenly considered an ally and one of her spies. She was fully aware, not least from my own frequent reports, that Claudius often kindly shared his nightly repast with me.

I did not consider that my regular accurate reports to Agrippina, about the activities of her husband to which I had been witness, represented a betrayal of my master, Claudius, for two reasons. Firstly, I considered myself to be a daring and rather altruistic double-spy because I also provided Narcissus with the same data, as well as gave the increasingly beleaguered Imperial secretary similar material about the Empress, in order to help our shared aim of protecting both the Empire and Britannicus from the Augusta’s nefarious scheming. Secondly, I had by now confessed to the Princeps that his wife had asked me to pass on information about him.

Claudius was neither surprised nor worried, as such spying had always been common within the courts of all of the Emperors, and he had probably indulged similarly when he had been more interested in Imperial affairs. However, the sexagenarian Princeps was now more concerned in his dotage with enjoying a quiet life and his pleasures, although he did express delight with my honesty and also mischievously began to propose ways in which I could slant the information that I passed on to his wife. He would, for example, recommend "Tell Agrippina about this in this manner" before going on to provide an elaboration of his suggestion.

Claudius also repaid me for my honesty by appraising me of court matters about which I had not known. For example, on this evening, the Emperor told me that Agrippina had added, to her earlier recommendation that he again dined with his food-taster, "If I didn’t know your desires, husband, I’d think that you fancied that boy!" The Princeps additionally made me aware about his suspicions, or possible even accurate knowledge, regarding his current wife’s infidelities, which were indulged in a much quieter and private way when compared to those of her late nymphomaniac predecessor, Messalina. He did so by commenting that "If you weren’t sadly a eunuch, Bicilus, I’m sure that the Empress would have had such a young beauty as you in her bed too!"

I immediately blushed. However, I remain unsure to this day, whilst I narrate my autobiography to my worthy scribe at an age now older than Claudius was then, whether my facial hue in reaction to the Emperor’s remark was attributable to humble embarrassment or vain pride.

Noticing my blush, Claudius smiled and changed the subject of our dinner conversation, as we rather intimately but platonically shared a couch, on which we reclined, mainly on our fronts or sides, to consume the copious fare presented by other slaves on the table in front of us. "Did I ever tell you, Bicilus," the Emperor now asked, in the usual non-stuttering manner that he invariably managed whilst alone with his apparently favourite servant and about to discuss his favourite topic of history, "about my early life with the divine Augustus and his wicked wife, Livia, who was Tiberius’ mother?"

I replied negatively, whilst recognising that by dawn I would probably be fully conversant with the subject.

(Lodgings of Persius and Quintilianus, Subura Quarter, Rome, same time)

At that moment, Quintilianus arrived in the lodgings he shared with Persius. "You’re late!" P commented in response. "It’s been a long day in court," the trainee lawyer retorted, "whilst we concluded a trial and waited for the jury to decide its verdict!" "What was the result?" the third young person present, Lucanus, enquired.

"Innocent," Quintilianus triumphantly announced. "How many of the jury did you pay to achieve that remarkable result?" Persius sarcastically asked. "I personally bribed none," Q answered, "but I believe that my client used some of her ill-gotten inheritance to pay off about thirty of the jurors!"

Young Quintilianus had been assisting his legal teacher and mentor, Gnaeus Domitius Afer, in defending a widow in a murder trial. She had allegedly poisoned her abusive and adulterous husband, and all of the evidence suggested that she was actually guilty. However, wealth, which can recruit excellent lawyer orators and bribe a majority of jurors, who can number between 50 and 75, can ensure that justice does not prevail.

"I suppose that again there’s no monetary bonus from Afer," Persius gloomily and pessimistically next commented. "You’re right," Quintilianus responded, but without sharing his friend’s despondency. The reason for Q’s differing happier attitude then became clear, as he removed a little bag of coins from within the folds of his formal courtroom toga and threw it onto a nearby table.

"However," the smiling Quintilianus subsequently added, "the victorious widow did pay me a big bonus. So, let’s go for a good dinner with some of the proceeds!"

The very hungry Persius and Lucanus needed no second invitation to follow Quintilianus out of the lodgings to enjoy cena at their friend’s expense at a much more costly caupona than their normal local cheap but cheerful haunt.

(Domus of Marcus Salvius Otho, patrician quarter, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)

"Why can’t I come to Vitellius’ dinner party too?" Otho’s exceptionally beautiful but currently sulky 19 year-old wife, Poppaea, complained. "It’s not the type of event that respectable women should either attend or enjoy!" her husband, who was a year older and still shaved his body as well as his chin despite marriage, brazenly answered.

"Is that because less respectable women will be providing the entertainment?" Poppaea next asked in frustration, as she did not like her husband attending and enjoying parties without her. "Actually no," Otho replied, "as I believe that Aulus Vitellius is providing only boys to amuse his guests tonight!"

"How can men like you, Marcus," Poppaea responded, whilst referring to her husband’s praenomen, "who are clearly attracted to women, welcome being entertained by boys?" "Variety is the spice of life!" Otho suggested, whilst declining to mention his bisexual tastes, about which he knew that his wife was fully aware.

"In that case," Poppaea retorted, "I’m coming too!" Otho was more amused than annoyed by his wife’s attitude and so allowed her to go with him to Vitellius’ orgiastic dinner, where only beautiful boys were on the sexual part of the menu.

(Domus of Aulus Plautius, patrician quarter, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)

‘Philonicus the Thessalian brought the horse Bucephalus to Philip, offering to sell him for thirteen talents. But when they went into the field to try him, they found him so very vicious and unmanageable, that he reared up when they endeavoured to mount him, and would not so much as endure the voice of any of Philip's attendants. Upon which, as they were leading him away as wholly useless and untractable, Alexander, who stood by, said, 'What an excellent horse do they lose for want of address and boldness to manage him!'

"It’s nice to have Suffuscus back home safely from Campania," Aulus Plautius’ wife, Pomponia Graecina, told her husband, "particularly after being in the company of young Nero. I fear that one day their friendship will end and the consequences could be tragic for our older son, especially if the Prince discovers his real background!"

"Let’s hope that neither scenario materialises," Aulus Plautius commented. He then asked "By the way, where is Suffuscus?"

"I’ll allow you one guess," a suddenly smiling Pomponia Graecina answered. "He’s not with Bucephalus at this time of night?" Aulus Plautius retorted, whilst referring to the lateness of the hour.

"Yes, he is," Pomponia Graecina replied, "as he’s been riding him on the Campus Martius much of the day and now, after rubbing Bucephalus down, re-grooming and feeding him, he’s cleaning out his stall. You did, after all, husband, stipulate that, if he was to have the horse, he had to look after him himself!"

"Hmmm," Aulus Plautius remarked in response, "perhaps, after all, I should buy him a slave to care for the horse in order to allow me to see more of my older son." Pomponia Graecina’s smile broadened at her husband’s generous willingness to reconsider the condition imposed on Suffuscus when he was granted his wish of owning Bucephalus. However, she also felt compelled to remind her spouse "I don’t think the animal will let anyone near him other than the boy, and probably vice-versa. Nevertheless, you could at least purchase a groom to be of more distant assistance!"

"I’ll probably do that," Aulus Plautius advised, "if only to keep a wary eye on Suffuscus. I’ve heard that he has been seen riding Bucephalus at speed on the Campus Martius whilst holding his hands behind his back, just as the young Julius Caesar was supposedly capable of doing on horseback. I’d hate to invoke my paternal authority to ban such a brave, energetic and adventurous boy from attempting such potentially dangerous stunts, as I don’t want to curtail his lively zest for life. Instead, diplomatically having someone, such as a groom, at hand to prevent our son going too far might be a better solution!"

"I have a secret to confess, husband," Pomponia Graecina advised, "because I was already aware of Suffuscus’ riding antics. I was naturally very worried and so recently furtively went to the Campus Martius to observe him." A gleam of immense pride then appeared in the woman’s eyes, as she added "Despite his tender age, I think that he’s the most accomplished horseman I’ve ever seen and so I too wouldn’t ban him from practising his stunts!"

"I’ll still probably buy a new slaveboy to be his groom and keep a watchful eye on Suffuscus, as well as helping with Bucephalus’ needs," Aulus Plautius fatefully appraised his wife before changing the topic of conversation. "I’ve suggested to Claudius that he appoint Aulus Didius Gallus to replace the late Publius Ostorius Scapula as the next Governor of Britannia," informed the retired general, who had been the first to hold the post.

"Oh, dear," Pomponia Graecina responded, "do you really believe that’s wise? The man was, after all, a confidant of that dreadful Emperor Caligula and was even a consul during his reign."

"Well," Aulus Plautius replied, "Gallus has won military fame as a result of some extraordinary but successful campaigning in faraway Chersonesus Taurica [modern Crimea]. He therefore appears to be an excellent candidate to try to continue to subdue remote Britannia!"

"If you say so, dear," Pomponia Graecina commented, although her tone suggested that she was unconvinced by her husband’s argument.

(Corinth, Achaea, Greece, same time)

"How long are these men going to stay with us?" Priscilla complained, whilst referring to the preacher of the new Jewish Christian sect, Paul, and his young acolyte, Timothy. "They never contribute anything to their food and lodging," she observed, "but instead just cause us trouble with our fellow Jews because of their radical views, including asserting that Jesus Christ was the Son of God!"

"I thought that, like me, you had accepted Paul’s beliefs," a surprised Aquila replied to his wife’s complaint. "I might have," the practical Priscilla responded, "but I can’t re-produce Christ’s miracles and change water into wine and produce loaves and fishes from nowhere. I’ll need more money to keep this household going properly and us reasonably fed!"

"Well then," Aquila informed, "I’ll ask Paul for a contribution in cash or kind. He can either seek some money from other followers in order to enable him to remain a full-time preacher or can help me make tents!"

"Please do so," Priscilla retorted, "or Paul will be reduced to praying for another miracle from Jesus Christ in order to acquire his food!"

(Venta Icenorum [modern Caistor St. Edmund, Norfolk, England], Britannia, same time)

Venta Icenorum was in this year the new ‘civitas’ capital of the strong Britannian Iceni tribe, who inhabit the flatlands and marshes to the northwest of the original homeland of my own people, their erstwhile rivals, the Catuvellauni. The small walled market town, which is somewhat disadvantaged in location by not being aside a river, is about 130 Roman miles from the then just founded settlement of Londinium to the south.

"Do you think this is right, Prasutagus?" asked the young red-haired wife of the ageing King of the Iceni, as both sat by the central fire in their superior roundhouse whilst their two young daughters slumbered peacefully under animal furs nearby. The interior of their dwelling, which was bigger and more splendid than that of other tribal members, was rather dark, with the flames that warmed them and cooked their food providing the main illumination. Smoke drifted lazily upwards and out through a hole in the middle of the thatched roof.

The roundhouse was full of elaborate bronze carvings, for which the Iceni were renowned. Buried in the ground immediately underneath was also a substantial proportion of the tribe’s other treasures, including many items of gold.

Prasutagus had been amongst the first of the Britannian tribal leaders to recognise the practical importance of money. However, the King mainly minted silver coinage, as the Iceni preferred not to melt down their gold treasures for the purpose.

Prasutagus was dressed in colourful attire made from a strong but rather coarse cloth, of mixed hemp and jute, and leather decorated with bronze strips. The King’s kilted garments were vibrantly squarely patterned in a style clearly denoting their Iceni connections. As a fellow Britannian, I sometimes wonder whether such kaleidoscopic clan-affiliating fashions will persist.

Prasutagus’ marriage to his wife had originally been a diplomatic one, helping to cement an alliance between his Iceni and her neighbouring Trinovantes tribes. However, mutual love and respect, aided by the birth of two lovely daughters, had subsequently blossomed, despite the age differential between the spouses.

Queen Boudicca was referring in her question to the appropriateness of the document, just written in Latin by a scribe and currently in her hands. The hide scroll represented Prasutagus’ will. The King, who was beginning to feel his mortality and therefore preparing for his death, had in the parchment bequeathed a third of his kingdom, which was now a client state of Rome, to the Romans. He had left the other two-thirds, as local custom allowed in the absence of a male heir, to be divided between his daughters, with his wife if necessary acting as regent until they came of age.

"I know why you’re offering a third of your territory to the Romans, Prasutagus," Boudicca continued, "as you’re hoping that will prevent them trying to claim the whole kingdom in the absence of a male heir. However, husband, will the they honour your will after your death?"

"I firmly believe that my wishes will be granted," Prasutagus answered, "as long as Claudius remains Emperor or his own heir respects his predecessor’s obligations towards alliances."

The Iceni, under minor leaders, Aesunos and Saenuvax, had gone against the wishes of their then king, Antedios, and risen in revolt 5 years previously when the Romans included the tribe amongst those they planned to compel to disarm. The uprising had been quickly crushed and Prasutagus had subsequently replaced his blood relative and predecessor monarch, who had been assassinated by the rebels.

Prasutagus had been accepted in the role by the victors for three main reasons. Firstly, the new King was blatantly pro-Roman, believing that fighting the all-conquering legions would be wastefully disastrous for his people and that they could instead learn much from the civilising ways brought by the invaders. Secondly, he had not only played no part in the recent revolt but also actively opposed the uprising. Thirdly, he had met Claudius during the Emperor’s brief foray to Britannia, which took place immediately after the original successful invasion, and they had developed mutual respect and liking for each other.

This development had resulted in subsequent regular friendly correspondence between King and Emperor, and Imperial commands that the Iceni leader and his people were to be respected by the Romans. No Governor or legionary could afford to disobey such orders and not expect Claudius’ wrath in return.

(Domus of Axenius, Quirinal Hill, Rome, same time)

The Quirinal, on which both Axenius and Petronius lived, is, like the Viminal, technically considered to be a spur, or ‘colles’, rather than a hill, or ‘montes’. According to legend, the first inhabitants were Sabines and there are still local sanctuaries dedicated to very ancient cults, some with pre-Roman origins.

The hill boasts temples to the gods Quirinus, the quieter version of the usually more warlike Mars, who celebrates honourable peace, and Salus, the deity of prosperity and thriving crops. The latter divinity was originally revered in Rome as Semonia, a name that refers to the Latin word ‘semen’, meaning ‘seed’.

The resplendent domus inherited by Axenius from his late lover and benefactor, Palaemon, was also close to the ‘Auguraculum’. This was an area where augers, connected to the ‘comitia’ assembly in the Saepta of the Campus Martius, which was responsible, amongst other issues, for electing magistrates, were based.

The relevant household slaves had just been politely dismissed from the large and ornate baths complex in Axenius’ domus, of which my beloved Gaius was supposedly temporarily in charge. However, the exhausted young man from Volsinii was happy to allow five of the boys currently in his care to spend some time alone together before bedtime, after their daily bathing and massaging in the splendid amenity.

Gaius’ adopted sons, Achilleus and Tyanus, were with that of Axenius, namely Arius, and also with the Germanian eunuch’s younger brother, Anacletus, and guest, Agricola. The boys, respectively 10, 12, 11, 13 and 12 years of age, were still naked after their recent bathing but did not mind their mutual nudity in front of each other for two reasons.

Firstly, the pretty quintet regularly bathed together and so was accustomed to viewing each other’s naked bodies. Secondly, they had attained that normal phase of development when boys become a little narcissistic about their own forms and also rather interested in those of their peers.

Consequently, the young quintet often experienced tingling sensations in their smooth groins, as they now energetically played a game of tag whilst naked in the baths complex. They would also occasionally sport little erections. However, they experienced more pride than embarrassment when doing so in front of their close friends.

Meanwhile, Gaius’ young slave, Hylas, who had amazingly recently declined his freedom, stayed with his master in the triclinium, where the rather tired young man from Volsinii was enjoying a late cena. He had as usual previously visited me and sated his sexual appetites for the day in the room I shared with Apollinus in the Imperial palace.

Hylas’ reluctance to indulge in the naked boyish play taking place in the domus’ baths was not just as a result of his loyal and dutiful wish to be constantly at Gaius’ side. He was to advise me later that he was still rather ashamed of the gelded nature of his genitals. As a ‘thlibias’, or ‘shattered’, eunuch, his balls, having been soaked in very hot water, had been manually crushed within his scrotum when he had been merely 4 years old.

Currently, dining with Gaius, at my beloved’s invitation, were his other two servants, Encolpius and Selene, who was in the early stages of pregnancy. Very few other Romans would ever contemplate eating in such a manner with slaves, although, of course, Emperor Claudius kindly regularly did so with me.

Gaius had previously advised me that, in an ideal world, he would have loved to free Encolpius and Selene, who now clearly loved each other deeply, so that they could marry to become legitimate husband and wife and bear freeborn children. However, his own father and mother, who still supported him financially, expected him to own slaves to assist him to run his household in Rome, and he did need such help.

There was also a limit to how much Gaius could test the patience of his father and mother and the depth of their purses. Freeing recently bought slaves, who had not yet served loyally for years, would undoubtedly incur parental, and particularly formidable maternal, wrath, which he did not want to precipitate.

Despite his own agnosticism, Gaius therefore now recommended to Encolpius and Selene that, instead of formal marriage, which slaves could not enjoy, they received a ritual priestly blessing for a more informal union. The two young dutiful servants, whom my beloved would truly have liked the gods, if they existed, to favour, happily accepted their kind master’s suggestion.

Conversation then progressed to identifying the most appropriate temple in which to hold the ceremony, in terms of both religious suitability and the willingness of the priesthood to accept a bribe in order to perform such an unusual rite for mere slaves.