The Far Arena Read online

  Domitian had found in Vergilius Flavius Publius his distraction for a smouldering city: the arrogant patrician who would meet the mob's dear Eugeni. Eugeni, who had twice refused the wooden sword, who had proclaimed his greatest ambition was to please the people of Rome, who had often said publicly he had one fear and that was that his life should be wasted at the hands of invincible time.instead of ending in the glory of the arena.

  Of this absurdity and others like it was my fame made, and Domitian knew it well. Freedman Eugeni, who loved Rome with his life, would face individually an arrogant young patrician who disdained the people of Rome. The city would accept nothing less than his blood.

  By the time Domitian's emissary arrived, I was prepared.

  The emissary outlined Domitian's thinking: 'By sponsoring the games himself, Domitian shows his love of the mobs; and since you will be matched with Vergilius Flavius Publius, our divinity puts further distance between himself and that distant relative.'

  'Domitian doesn't need distance. What greater love of the mobs than giving one's own because he has violated the sanctity of Rome?' I said.

  The emissary quickly shook his head lest that idea linger in the air one moment too long. 'One cannot get enough distance from that lad. Domitian will follow your match with bears, and - this is a good one - will hunt the bears himself from a platform. He will end the games with Jews, Germans, and criminals. The games will be in ten days. What do you think?'

  Ten days? Mars's ass. Ten days.'

  'Yes? No? What do you say?'

  ‘It will need blood.'

  'We have it. There is a crime wave we are ending within days. There will be enough convicted crirninals.' 'You have the bears?' I asked. 'We have the bears.' /

  'Bears, how?’ 'We have them.' 'How?'

  'We had them. A transaction. The family that sponsored the disaster couldn't meet the price.'

  'The family that sponsored the disaster that started the riots wanted to add bears, and you held out for more money? You paid with a city instead.'

  They didn't have money,' he said.

  'Yes, we all know that now,' I said.

  ‘Well? Ten days. What do you think?'

  Kitchen slaves brought us fruit and wine and cheese. I drank water. Domitian's emissary commented on the quality of the wine and on the fact that I never drank even the gentlest of wines. He said Domitian believed I had stronger reasons that just my cautions for the arena, since a little wine fortified the liver. I raised my hand signifying I wanted to think.

  Domitian's scheme showed a sound knowledge of the arena. My match with Publius would be talked about, discussed, and argued about and would become the major point of interest before the games. The match itself would be, of course, nothing, especially for a large arena where my skill and Publius' lack of it would barely show. But if it were followed quickly by Domitian hunting bears, to sustain interest, and then much blood at the end, the crowds would in all probability leave feeling well satisfied with the day.

  Merely an unbalanced match between Publius and myself would leave the crowd without the great discharge that comes from spectacle and blood. Domitian had arranged it all: interest, spectacle, and blood. And for his political purposes, he once again directed the mob's hostility towards the patrician class, his only real rival for power. Publius represented the patricians; I, the crowds.

  'Good,' I finally said.

  'Domitian thinks you should add some extra device.’ 'What?' I said. 'He does not know.'

  ‘I will fight without wrappings around my loins,' I said. That is only done in small arenas,' he said.

  ‘It will be good,' I said. 'It will signify that I come to Rome without even clothes, and the people gave me everything I have.'

  'Brilliant,' he said. 'Domitian's retainers will spread this word throughout the city.'

  'No. My retainers will. Your retainers will say Domitian will not allow this, and this will further heighten interest'

  'Domitian will appreciate your risking your body.'

  'It is not great risk, and Domitian knows this. It is only in the mind that nudity is more dangerous than having light cloth.'

  'But might it not dangle in the way ?'

  'I am a man, not a horse. At the end of the match, Domitian will offer me the wooden sword again.'

  'And you will refuse again.'

  'No. This time I accept. Domitian will say he does not want the virtue of Eugeni desecrated by an inferior opponent as was witnessed here today, and he offers me the sword so that the purity of my glory will now belong to the gods and the people of Rome eternal. He asks the mob if they agree, and I succumb to their will. I say no twice, the mob screams yes, and Domitian himself descends to the arena to hand me the wooden sword personally. He presses my left hand around it, and, in confusion and despair, I begin to fall on my real sword. Domitian gets in between me and my sword. I kiss his feet. He raises me, I weep profusely. He walks me around the arena, his arm over my shoulder, and we both ascend to his seat - emperor and his devoted gladiator. There he makes me a senator by his decree and the voice of the people. During the captives or criminals, I attempt to return to the arena but Domitian stops me. He must stop me. This is important because with barbarians one doesn't know what pointed weapon goes flying around.'

  'You're accepting the wooden sword? You are finished with the arena?'

  'Yes,' I said.

  'But you arrange your own matches. You are leaving fortunes lying fallow.'

  'It is not that profitable. My wealth is more rumour than real. You and Domitian should know how worthless is free information.'

  'But you received great latifundia for your brief efforts yesterday,' he said. 'We know because we are seizing the late sponsor's property, and you left nothing.'

  'The latifundia's value is that they are contiguous to other lands I have.'

  'They came with slaves and water rights.'

  'Oh, did they?' I said surprised. That is Greek business, and I do not follow it that well. I am so poor at figures, I do not ask gold or any other wealth from Domitian for the match he has arranged.'

  'You ask for the wooden sword.'

  'Which Domitian, before the people, gives as the instrument of their will. He wins greater favour from the mob for this.' 'Domitian will not like losing you.'

  'He will love the gesture of saving me from taking my own life, I, so despairing of leaving the arena and the people 1 love.' 'Why do you want to leave now ?'

  'I am old. I should have left before. Any fool can ride the chariots of victory. It takes judgement to get off at the right time.'

  'You were old yesterday, Eugeni,' said the emissary shrewdly. 'And you will be only ten days older when you mount to the right hand of the emperor and your senate seat. It is not you who have changed.'

  I denied this, but he was right, of course. It was not my thiity-three years. The crowds had changed and had been changing for years, and one day just for the pique of it they would call lions or elephants to be loosed on me. When I had begun, crowds threatened to become a mob if things went wrong. Now they entered the arena as a mob. When I had begun my journey with the sword, owned by the Aurelii, a quick accidental kill, even in the great arena, would cause a few groans, maybe even applause for the speed of it. But today it was all spectacle and farce, and a sponsor without elephants was lost.

  It was time I had gone.

  On the second day, my retainers picked up the first stories of Publius' family's attempting to offer me a fortune not to appear in the arena with Publius. This was even discussed privately in the senate, 1 found out from two senators in my debt. If they were not in the senate, they would publicly be called my retainers. They asked if I had any special action I wished them to take in the senate, any stories to be confided to others. I said no.

  On the third day, Publius secretly examined armour: Greek, hoplite, secutor, and Roman legionnaire - the last never seen in the arena because of its bulkiness. In that afternoon, he stored away the h
oplite and secutor armour. I was asked by one of my people if I wished the armour cunningly damaged in any special spot and covered with coloured wax. I said no. I was also asked if I wanted his water drugged at the arena. I said no. Nor did I want some beam accidentally to fall on his sword arm

  'It will be hard enough getting him to move properly,' I said.

  On the fourth day Publius was well into training. He took not even heavily watered wine. The family had hired an old veteran of the Twenty-second Prim. Genia, which had been stationed facing the barbarians in Germany, under the theory that any lanista would be in the reach of my influence. The centurion, who had campaigned with one of the lesser Flavian generals, could not be bribed to discuss his methods. But he drank much and talked freely. He told many that Vergilius Flavius Publius might have a little surprise for that breast sucker and his old muscles.

  On the fifth day, Domitian's emissary returned to tell me that Domitian's sources had just found out Publius would appear in legionnaire armour.

  ‘Oh,’ I said.

  'I hear that the young man has surprising strength,' said the emissary. 'And speed. Accidents can happen. Eugeni'

  'Not in my arena,' I said.

  'Perhaps, some drugging at the last moment ?'

  ‘No!' I said angrily. 'He will be wearing regulation legionnaire armour. My problems will be getting him to move in it, not slowing him down. Domitian knows I am a prudent man and a cautious one. Yet, even if I were weaponless, I could not fall before Publius. And this is not a boast. I am not boastful, as Domitian knows.'

  The emissary apologized for his foolishness, and I said that foolishness discussed openly ceases to be foolishness. I asked him why Domitian had spread rumours of a great family bribe.

  To ensure that you will be there to kill little Publius.'

  'My life and fortune are not enough,' I said laughing. 'Publius is a friend of your wife and son, we hear.' 'He was, yes.'

  Then forgive us, because when it comes to your wife, no one advances past your atrium for business, into your peristilium,' he said, pointing behind my shoulder where farther back the living quarters of my house were.

  'I don't understand,' I said.

  'We do not know of anyone but Publius who has seen your wife.' 'Our slaves see her every day.' 'In proper society.' 'We rarely participate.' 'Strange, yes ?' said the emissary.

  'She is a wife,' I said and made sure to smile. 'My family is my family. My son goes to proper tutors and returns home. I live here, my son lives here, my wife lives here. The arena can see all of me it wants. This is my home.'

  'It is that valuable?' asked the emissary. Domitian and his servants always look for that weak area they think of as love, especially in people they need.

  'It is a home,' I said with a touch of drudgery in my voice. 'Where the proper things are done in private. My son's first beard is to be shaved, and we will have proper ceremonies. It is a family.'

  'Domitian respects the family. It is a building block of the empire, as important in its quiet ways as the games. This match is important to Domitian. Strange things happen when gladiators make friends of gladiators.'

  I showed a bit of anger. This is the arena. If I loved Publius to my very bones, it would not matter. The arena is the arena. The greatest lie of all is that gladiators do not make friends of gladiators. It is no more true than that every match is a man fighting for his life. The mobs want Publius' life. If Domitian himself warily serves the mob, who am I to oppose it ?'

  'You do love Publius?' said the emissary.

  'Yes, and I tell you this openly so that Domitian will cease to suspect me and cease spreading lunatic rumours that he thinks protect him.'

  'Is that what you wish me to tell him ?' said the emissary. 'Absolutely and do not get a word wrong.’

  When he heard this accusation, Domitian laughed, I found out later. He told a praetor from Gaul that I would have made an excellent emperor, if not born to the arena, and himself an excellent gladiator, if not born to Vespasian and the princeps, which is another word for emperor.

  I received reports of this over three days in varying shades, the most accurate being from a slave who earned his peculium from one of Demosthenes' financial units. (The peculium is that fund by which a slave may buy his freedom.) With Demosthenes, this fund was quite naturally one of the larger fortunes of the city and yet still not enough to equal his worth or the price he himself had set.

  It was clear. I was leaving the arena. This was the good opportunity and something that required other things to be ended also. Demosthenes had earned his freedom, not in what he could buy, but in what he had given.

  And so with great formality. I went to his main counting-house, which on the outside appeared like one of the finer buildings, marble not brick, but on the inside was a poorly lit, confusing hive of busy clerks. Demosthenes trusted no one, and while some slaves appeared to be loitering, they really were watching other slaves. In turn, these too were watched.

  The building smelled like an overworked armpit. It was hard to breathe. In deference to my own slaves, I kept them outside. Where the peristilium should have been open to the sky and where sunlight should have bathed fresh green plants, there were darkness and vertical wooden boxes.

  Demosthenes had been told I was coming, and he greeted me in his own room, sealed off by a door as though it were facing a street, or sealing off a tunnel for defence.

  'Demosthenes, I come here today to honour you. I come here today to thank you and do homage to you and your gods, for truly you are a glory unto your manhood and your people and your friends.'

  'Yes? What is it?'

  The room was lit with foul-smelling lamps using the cheapest oils. His eyes glanced at scrolls piled at his side on a broad wooden table with pegs that held the scrolls secure. How a man could read so much in a lifetime, I did not know.

  'Get the disc that came around your neck when I purchased you. I will break it with my own hands. We will do this before a magistrate. You are free. Your peculium is yours for your wealth. You have given me more than wealth, you have given me loyalty and your great cunning.'

  "There's nothing more than wealth,' said Demosthenes. 'As for the disc, it is somewhere, and we'll have a magistrate do the proper notations later. Now, is there anything else ?'

  ‘I am freeing you in honour also of my son's first beard. You will in freedom, I hope, serve him when the time comes as well as you have served me.'

  'Good. Is there anything else ?'

  'I am freeing you, Demosthenes. You might show a bit of joy, at least at the fortune you have saved yourself.'

  'It is logical that you free me, and I expected it, Eugeni. I have served you well, and I am just about the only man in the empire who could do what I do. This is so. And I do it free or slave, because as your slave I am really free.'

  That moves me deeply, Demosthenes.'

  'Because you are half-Roman and therefore half-idiot,' he said. 'You have given me what I want. I am princeps of this fortune.'

  'You might want to indulge yourself with some of it.'

  'A waste. Here I am conqueror of the world, not the Roman. But I accept your offer; send me that woman slave in your house.'

  I did not understand. There were many women in my house. 'Which?'

  'The one who followed you into the vestibule once. Barbaric eyes.'

  'Green blue?'

  'Yes,' said Demosthenes.

  A trumpeting laugh filled me. 'That is my wife.'

  Even in the lamplight a blush shone obvious on his face. He became even more interested in the table before him and between us.

  'I'm sorry. I'm sorry, dominus,' he said, giving me formal title of owning him.

  'Dominus, no longer,' I said.

  'I'm sorry, Eugeni.'

  'Never apologise for good taste.' It was hard to breathe, and yet there was more we had to discuss. The coming match was my last, and there would be some necessary financial arrangements. Demosthenes saw this right awa
y.

  'He won't settle for a performance,' said Demosthenes, as we walked out into a small passageway, open to the sky but for a small iron grate. Standing underneath that grate, as raw sewage splashed out betwen our feet, I realized again what was so obvious. Men often enslave themselves in conditions far more difficult than another master might inflict.

  'Domitian's emissary has not asked for extras, yet,' I said.

  Ten million sesterces for that wooden sword. Ten million. Not a copper, not a grain less, not a handful of soil less. Ten million.'

  'Five at the most. At the most. Maybe six if I lose my wits,' I said and guided him back to his stuffy room.

  'No. No. Domitian moved on that sponsor's family's land immediately and found out we had it before the games. Our divinity has been seizing estates furiously. I say he sees assassination plots against him so he can seize the estates. He needs money.' said Demosthenes.

  Too many rich men are still rich. The poor are sentenced to the arena or the cross along with the rich. Many of the plots are real. Ask Tullius.'

  'I don't trust Tullius. He likes too many little boys too often. He is a loyal freedman, but he is not one of us.' By that he meant Tullius was Roman without Greek ties.

  'You sound Roman in your virtue.'

  'Everything is money. Domitian will move on your estates.'