Page 12 of I Am a Barbarian


  Now I knew why Attica had snubbed me that day, nor could I blame her. From nadir, my spirits rose to zenith. I leaped to my feet and ran to the sundial, which confirmed my guess that the day had entered the sixth hour. Waiting for no permission from either Caligula or the majordomo, I bolted from the palace and ran all the way to the house of Helvidius Pius. I knew that Attica would no longer be strolling along the Via Appia waiting for me after three weeks, during which I had apparently flouted her sweet and generous advances; so I went directly to the side door of the house of Helvidius Pius and pounded on it as though I were a messenger from Tiberius himself. Presently it was opened by a sour-faced Egyptian slave, who eyed me scowlingly.

  "What do you want, slave?" he demanded, "pounding thus upon the door during the siesta hour."

  "I want to see Attica," I replied.

  "Get thee gone!" he growled, and tried to shut the door in my face, but I stuck a foot in it so that he couldn't.

  "I must see Attica," I insisted. "It is important."

  "And who are you to demand to see a slave of the house of Helvidius Pius, and a female slave at that? This is no lupanar."

  "I am Britannicus, the slave of Caius Caesar Caligula, and if you know what's good for you, you'll take word to Attica at once."

  "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" demanded the fellow. There are castes even among slaves, and the slave of a member of the imperial family ranks high. "Wait here," he said. "I will go and find Attica."

  He came back presently with a sneer on his ugly face. "Attica says that she never heard of you," he said. "You'd better be running along."

  I walked back to the Palatine Hill with my tail between my legs.

  Chapter XIII

  A.U.C.776 [A.D. 23]

  I DEVOTED all the rest of my leisure time that day to composing a letter to Attica. In fact, I composed eight; the first seven I tore up. The one I finally dispatched was far less flowery and hysterical than its predecessors. It merely explained that the reason I had not met her on the Via Appia was that her letter had only been delivered to me this very day, and that I had then immediately run all the way to her house in the hope of seeing her. I asked her if she would not send word that I might see her soon and where. It was a much more dignified letter than the others, probably such a letter as Cingetorix might have written-had he been able to write. I found a small boy on the street and gave him a sestertius to deliver it.

  I expected an answer in about an hour. I did not get one. I did not get one the next day. I never got one. I seriously contemplated opening my veins on the doorstep of the house of Helvidius Pius. I pictured Attica's remorse when she found me there. It was very touching; then Caligula came and said that we were going to visit the stables of the White syndicate, and I decided to postpone my demise. I was so fond of visiting the stables of the various racing syndicates that I would forego any other pleasure for the opportunity-even death.

  "Why the White stables?" I asked. "I thought you were devoted to the Green."

  "I have just heard that they have some new horses," he replied, "and I want to have a look at them. They are going to work them out late this afternoon, when it is cooler." We found Tibur. Either he or some other praetorian had to accompany Caligula whenever he went abroad; and when it was Tibur, we were both glad, for we three fraternized like equals; many of the others were fearful or obsequious: close association with a Caesar affected them strangely. But not Tibur. He was always the ex-gladiator whom multitudes had worshiped. I have always thought that having Tibur and me for his closest associates had a beneficial effect upon Caligula for many years. Had we been the usual run of fawning sycophants who ordinarily surrounded Caesars, there is no telling to what lengths he would have gone much sooner than he otherwise did after he became emperor and was surrounded by boot-lickers.

  Tibur and I both treated him as we would have treated any other person. When we thought he was wrong, we didn't hesitate to tell him so, and when he got up on his high horse, as he occasionally attempted to do, we dragged him down. I won't try to say that he liked it because he didn't, but he had to take it, and it developed a little more character in him than he would otherwise have had. I feel sure that if Caligula's mind had not been warped by heredity, Tibur and I would have made a good man and a great emperor of him; for, strange as it may sound, he really tried to deserve our approval.

  As it was quite a little distance to the White stables, Caligula ordered out a litter, beside which Tibur and I walked until we were out of sight of the palace; then Caligula bade us both get in. It would never have done to have chanced letting Agrippina see a legionary and a slave crowding into a litter with a divine Julian. And it was crowded. Tibur was as big as a gorilla, and I was no midget even then. The four husky slaves knew that they were carrying something, but they seemed to take it all in good humor. Their black faces wreathed in smiles.

  As we passed through the streets, many people recognized Caligula and called to him affectionately, and he smiled and waved to them. I saw many a broad grin as his companions were identified. This evidence of democracy in a boy Caesar endeared him to those who witnessed it, nearly all of whom would live to curse the day that he was born.

  Tibur, too, was recognized, and many were the good-natured, if coarse, jokes that were called to him. He gave them back in kind and coarser. The Roman populace is not overnice in its repartee. Caligula enjoyed it all immensely, but soon we were out of the crowded district and approaching the st ables of the White syndicate.

  The plant of the White syndicate covered an area of several jugeri; in addition to the stables for the horses, the building that contained the chariots, harness, and other equipment, and the barracks for the stable boys, there was a track complete with spina and goalposts where the teams were exercised and trained. This track was the same width as that of the Circus Maximus but much shorter, for, after all, it is not in the straightaway that races are won or lost, but in rounding the goalposts.

  The superintendent of the White syndicate was a freedman named Publius Scorpus, who as a young man had been a famous charioteer, thus winning his freedom. He was quite impressed by this visit by a young Caesar, and went to great pains to impress upon Caligula the excellence of the equipment and the records of his horses and drivers, for a syndicate which won the favor of a Caesar gained in popularity with the masses.

  "I understand," said Caligula, "that you have four new horses belonging to Helvidius Pius, and I have come to see them work."

  "I am only waiting for Numerius," explained Publius Scorpus, "who is training them and will race them in the next games held in the Circus. He should have been here before now."

  "I would see the horses while we are waiting." said Caligula. Publius Scorpus had them led out by stable boys, four beautiful chestnut stallions. I think I have never seen such gorgeous animals, nor a team so perfectly matched. Caligula went into ecstasies over them.

  "They cost Helvidius a pretty fortune," said the superintendent. "His agents searched for two years before they were able to match up so perfect a team. The two from Mauritania were purchased two years ago as three-year-olds, the other two were found this year, one in Greece and the other in Spain; one is five years old, the other six."

  "I would see them run," said Caligula.

  "The moment that Numerius arrives," said the superintendent.

  We waited. The sun was dropping lower and lower. Soon it would be too late. Caligula became more and more impatient.

  "Let someone else drive them," he said. "I tire of waiting."

  "There are no drivers here," explained Publius Scorpus, "and I would not dare trust them to a stable boy."

  "You mean to say that you have no one here who can drive a four-horse team?" demanded Caligula.

  "I am the only man here who has driven a race," replied Scorpus, "but since my last race, many years ago, my left arm has been almost useless."

  "I can drive them," I said.

  Publius Scorpus looke
d at me with all the contempt that a freedman can bestow upon a slave. "You?" he exclaimed. "What makes you think you can drive a four-horse chariot? Is it because you have watched a few races?"

  Caligula looked equally as skeptical as Scorpus, but Tibur grinned and nodded his head in approval, for he knew what Caligula had doubtless forgotten in his own egotism.

  "What makes him think he can drive a four-horse chariot! " repeated Tibur. "He, the great-grandson of Cingetorix, who drove his father's war chariot in battle from the time he was eight years old-what makes him think he can drive a four-horse chariot? He drove them with razor-sharp blades extending from each hub, such chariots as only a master charioteer could maneuver with safety to the horses and men of his own people. And he did this with wild, half-trained horses. With these gentle old cart horses he could sleep halfway around the track."

  "That is right," said Caligula. "I had forgotten. Let Britannicus drive the four."

  "But-" objected Scorpus.

  "No buts, man," snapped Caligula.

  "If anything should happen, what would Helvidius Pius say? I should lose my job, and maybe worse."

  "My uncle, the Emperor, would give you a better job. I wish to see the horses work. I wish to see Britannicus drive them-I, Caius Caesar Caligula! "

  Scorpus delayed as long as he dared, evidently hoping that Numerius would come, but at last the horses were harnessed to the chariot, and I took my place, the reins knotted about my waist.

  The stable boys at the horses' heads leaped aside and we were off. It was indeed a splendid team. The six-year-old, the horse from Greece, was on the inside. So sensitive was his mouth that with my little finger I could rein him. He was magnificent. I circled the spina seven times, and each time you could scarcely have thrust your hand between the hub of the chariot and the metae as we made the turn at each end. It was no test of driving, as there were no other chariots, and a child could have driven that perfectly trained team.

  Scorpus breathed a sigh of relief as I drew rein in front of the little knot of onlookers. "You drive well," he said, as I dropped from the chariot and the stable boys led the horses away to be rubbed down and blanketed.

  "You drive magnificently," said another voice in the rear of the other spectators. I looked and recognized Numerius. I thought that the fellow must be pretty sure of Attica to praise a rival thus, but I acknowledged his compliment graciously. "The praise should go to the trainer of the horses," I said. "A fool could have done what I did."

  "I think one did," said Numerius.

  The fellow had insulted me! I could feel the blood recede from my face. I took a step toward him, and then Numerius smiled. "Wait!" he said. "Come to one side and let me explain; then you will probably agree with me."

  We walked away out of earshot of the others. I was still angry, and Numerius was still smiling, as though he enjoyed my discomfiture.

  "Why did you call me a fool?" I demanded.

  "Because you are one," he said. "Why didn't you come to meet Attica when she wrote you? You love her. Any fool could see that when you were within sight of her. Then why didn't you come when she sent for you? That is why I called you a fool." "But I thought you loved her," I said.

  "I do," said Numerius, "but if I can't win her fairly, I do not want her at all. I do not want a wife who loves another man."

  "But she loves you," I said.

  "Not yet," said Numerius, "nor does she love you-yet. Why did you not come to her when she wrote you?"

  I explained the whole matter to Numerius. "I shall tell her," he said. "It is evident that the boy you paid to bring that last note to her took your money but did not deliver the note. Attica never received it."

  "Why do you tell me these things?" I asked.

  "I like a contest," he said. "At the games, I like to ride through the Gate of Triumph with the palm of victory in my hand. So, I would like to win in the game of love; but to win with honor, one must have a worthy rival."

  "Then it is a contest?" I asked.

  "It is," he said, "and may the better man win."

  We shook hands on it, and from that day we were fast friends and eager rivals for the hand of Attica. There never was a finer man than Numerius, nor a greater charioteer. Caligula called to me, and we prepared to leave. Scorpus shook my hand. "If Caesar will consent," he said, "you shall drive for the White."

  "He is going to drive for the Green," said Caligula. "Green is my color."

  Chapter XIV

  A.U.C.779-780-781-[A.D. 26-27-28]

  AMONG THE pages of my diary that were cast into the sea by Caligula were those covering the next few years, so the picture I shall paint must lack detail, as ships seen from a distance. We see the ships, but we do not see the men upon them, nor what they are doing, and no more can we hear their voices to know of what they speak.

  I saw Attica as often as I could, and she and Numerius and I were the best of friends, but I could not see that either he or I advanced his suit. Attica was sweet to both of us; she treated us with a sort of maternal solicitude-, chiding us and laughing at us as though we were little boys if we spoke of love. Sometimes it was most aggravating. Numerius had a great advantage over me in the practical argument which he might have offered. He and Attica were both the slaves of Helvidius Pius, and their marriage would in no way have inconvenienced the master whose permission they must obtain. With me, it was quite different. Even had Attica been willing to marry me, I cannot conceive that either Caligula or Agrippina would have given consent.

  In the 779th year from the founding of the City, I was twenty; and I thought that if I were not married soon I should be so old that Attica would not want me for a husband. One is never quite so old again as at twenty.

  During these years I had driven occasionally for the Green in the races at the Circus. Now and then I had won. I should have won oftener had not the superintendent of the Green stables always given me his poorest teams. For that I do not blame him. He had old, experienced charioteers who had proved their mettle, so why risk a team or a race? Another factor that often lessened my chances of winning was my disinclination to resort to the foul and unfair practices which were encouraged among the drivers by both the syndicates and the populace. Every dirty trick to which a charioteer might resort in order to win, even though they might result in the injury or death of horses and, men, was countenanced and applauded. It was typically Roman.

  By now, Sejanus had gained a position in the Empire second only to Tiberius in power, for the aging Emperor leaned upon him for advice and counsel. There had been a time when this man had courted the good graces of Nero Caesar, whom Tiberius had named as his successor; but, with increasing power, he ceased to fawn upon the oldest son of Agrippina, and I believe that it was at this time that he formulated the plan to remove all obstacles that stood in his path to the seizure of imp erial power upon the death of Tiberius. How close he came to success during the ensuing five years!

  But at the time these events did not interest me greatly. How could I guess that in paving the way to the throne for himself, he was laying down a red carpet of blood over which Caligula would ascend it. It is not for a slave to concern himself with affairs of state.

  At this time the intrigues of Agrippina and Nero were almost common gossip in Rome. The insane mother and the vain and brainless son could not decently await the natural course of events that must soon remove from the latter's path to the throne the sole obstacle that intervened-an old and ailing man; they must plot and contrive to hasten the end.

  I recall an evening when a number of the conspirators were gathered in the peristyle of Agrippina's palace. Among them was Titius Sabinus, and from the balcony above I distinctly heard him say that he had bribed a certain freedman attached to the person of the Emperor to assassinate him.

  The monstrosity of the suggestion, bringing years of exciting intrigue and plotting so close to the actual perpetration of a hideous crime, seemed to awaken the dull mind of Nero to some appreciation of the foul
ness of the thing that Titius Sabinus was planning, and I will say for him that he demurred, but Agrippina overrode him.

  Already she could see herself the mother of an emperor and the virtual ruler of the world. What heads would fall when that day came! Red would be the streets of Rome and red the yellow Tiber. I imagined that I could see the she-wolf licking her chops. I was shocked and horrified by what I had heard. For years, I had been cognizant of treasonable plotting and veiled and secret threats against the life of Tiberius, but, like Nero, I was not wholly prepared for the actual fruition of these.

  What was I to do? More than once had Tiberius befriended me. He had on one occasion saved my life. But what could a slave do? Even could I reach his ear, it was quite possible that he would not believe me and that I should die for my temerity. I scarcely slept that night from thinking and planning, but when morning came my resolve had been made.

  Romans, as you know, are early risers that they may take advantage of the cool morning hours to transact the business of the day. Tiberius was no exception. I presented myself early that morning at the gates of the palace. I was quite the first person there, but when I announced to the guard that I sought an interview with the Emperor, they laughed at me and tried to drive me away.

  "Listen, if you know what is good for you," I said. "You have only to have word taken to the Emperor that Britannicus Caligulae Servus brings word to him on a matter of life and death."