Marcus Aurelius Betrayed (4 page)

“Alexandria has a deserved reputation for being a hotbed of civil disorder. As Vulso can undoubtedly tell you, the city has three large population groups, Greeks, Jews and Egyptians, and they have a long history of rioting against each other, in every conceivable combination. And the Roman administration always gets caught in the middle.”

“When I was there,” commented Vulso, “about ten years ago, the Prefect was killed during one of those outbreaks. An entire legion had to be called in to restore order.”

There was a commotion on deck and shouts could be heard. Vulso shot up and went out. He came back a few moments later. “We’ve sighted the lighthouse,” he announced.

Everyone, sailors and passengers alike, rushed toward the prow. 25 miles away, on the dark horizon, was what looked like a bright star. The fire from the great Pharos lighthouse, kindled almost 500 feet above ground and beamed far out to sea by a huge reflecting mirror, blazed brightly, a beacon in the night.

III

THE PREFECT OF EGYPT

T
he guards slammed their hobnailed boots onto the marble floor and stood to attention. The chamberlain opened an imposing bronze studded wood door and announced, “The Most Eminent Marcus Flavius Severus, imperial emissary and special judge of the Emperor.”

Severus strode into the Prefect’s office. It was a large airy room, beautifully decorated with marbled floor and walls and furnished with plush couches, rare wood tables and cases for books and documents. The Prefect put down a scroll and came over to greet his visitor. The two men exchanged greeting kisses, while slaves helped Severus out of his formal toga.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said the Prefect. “I trust your accommodations are satisfactory and that you slept well.”

Severus replied that they were and he had, although in fact he had hardly slept at all. He and Artemisia had been so excited to actually be in Egypt that they stayed up half the night talking and making love.

But Severus merely the exchanged light pleasantries with Calvus about the sea voyage.

Marcus Annius Calvus was a vigorous man, about 60-years-old, with a short beard and graying hair. He visibly projected the power and authority he wielded. His whole manner exuded confidence and consciousness of his position and rank.

Calvus motioned the judge to one of the two white-cushioned reclining couches, while taking the other for himself. Slaves unobtrusively placed wine and fruit on a low table between the couches and left the room. Severus took in more of the office. Two portrait paintings of the co-Emperors Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus hung prominently behind the Prefect’s desk and a variety of small objects of art were tastefully displayed on tables and in wall niches. Folding doors opened onto a balcony and Severus caught a glimpse of a lush garden outside and beyond it the sea. He settled onto the couch in a reclining position.

“And how is the Emperor?” asked the Prefect chattily, as he settled onto his couch.

Severus hardly knew how to answer the question. Aside from their childhood acquaintance, his meeting with Marcus Aurelius had been business-like and lasted less than half an hour. But Calvus was a relative of Marcus Aurelius and his manner indicated that he was a personal friend of the Emperor and expected the imperial emissary was also.

“He’s worried about the war,” replied Severus, recounting the talk in the City.

“I would be too,” replied the Prefect, “although after our initial defeats, we should be ready to take the
offensive by now. The European legions have arrived in the East, Avidius Cassius has whipped the eastern army into shape, and we’re ready to counterattack. But it’s shaping up as the biggest war in fifty years. For a new Emperor, I’m not surprised he’s worried.”

The Prefect’s bodyguard, a huge man, came in and placed a group of documents on the table in front of him. “These are the emissary’s credentials,” he informed Calvus, “and the dispatches he brought with him.”

The Prefect glanced at them. There was a
diploma
granting Severus full judicial authority within the jurisdiction of Egypt, subject to that of the Prefect himself. It included powers to investigate, arrest, conduct judicial trials and impose punishments, including the power to impose the death penalty. Another document specifically defined Severus’ mission in Egypt as the discovery of the Prefect’s would-be assassin and, as a corollary, the protection of the Prefect from further attempts on his life. Calvus read that one carefully, holding it close to his eyes and squinting at some passages.

He finished, put it down, and stared at Judge Severus for a long moment. “We were informed by Imperial Post that you were being sent out, but I’m afraid that you’ve come in vain.”

Severus looked at him inquiringly.

“You see, Judge Severus, we already have him. The person who tried to poison me has already been arrested, tried and executed!”

IV

GANYMEDE’S CONFESSION

J
udge Severus sat upright on his couch. “You’ve already caught him? When? Who was it?”

Calvus waved his hand airily. “It was one of my slaves. He confessed under judicial torture. He had a personal grudge against me. Seems that the deluded wretch was having fantasies that I was sleeping with his wife.” The Prefect shrugged his shoulders. “She had once been my concubine, it’s true. But when I tired of her, I gave her to Ganymede. He was consumed by an insane jealousy. The gods must have possessed him.”

The Prefect took a sip of wine. “We executed him over a week ago.”

Severus was stunned.

“I’ll show you the confession,” Calvus continued. “You’ll have to make a complete report to Rome, naturally. Other than that, I suppose you could reasonably spend a few weeks in Egypt as a tourist before heading back.” The Prefect shrugged again. “I’m sorry you had to travel so far for nothing. But I wrote to Rome about
it. I suppose my message reached the Palatine while you were on route.”

Calvus rose from his couch, took a last sip of wine, handed Severus back his credentials and escorted him to the door. “Naturally, Severus, you and your wife will be my guests at dinner tonight. I want to hear more about your pleasant sea voyage.”

The Prefect rapped on the door. It was opened by a young man clad in a toga, stylishly and fancily made up with gold dust in his hair. He was shorter than Severus in height and on the thin side and had a clever look about him. Several clerks entered the room and began setting up for a meeting.

“I’ll leave you in the hands of Secundus here,” said Calvus. “Secundus is not only my personal aide but he is also my stepson, soon to be adopted as my son. I appointed him
iudex selectus
, special judge, and he personally conducted the investigation and trial of the case you’re interested in.”

The Prefect addressed the young man. “Secundus, this is Marcus Flavius Severus, the imperial emissary and special judge from Rome, appointed personally by the Emperor to find out who tried to kill me. Of course, he didn’t know we’ve already concluded the case, but he will naturally want to see Ganymede’s confession. And any other arrangements he’ll need, you can take care of.”

He turned back to Severus. “Secundus will arrange the tours for you to the famous sights of Alexandria. I expect you’ll also want to spend some time up-country in Egypt, seeing the Pyramids, the Sphinx, the tombs of the pharaohs and all the other ancient wonders.”

Severus thanked him and the Prefect went back into his office.

“A terrible thing,” said Secundus to the judge as he escorted him down the marbled hall to his office. “‘So many slaves, so many enemies’, as they say. The Prefect was lucky. It was only by a fluke that Ganymede didn’t succeed.”

The corridors were bustling with toga-clad officials and slaves and clerks in tunics, all carrying papers to and fro, animatedly discussing things or just looking important.

“How did you single out Ganymede?” asked Severus. “Was his hostility toward the Prefect a matter of common knowledge in the household?”

“No,” answered Secundus. “We simply started to torture all the slaves who serviced the party and also had an opportunity to handle the wine or get near the Prefect’s cup. Ganymede confessed.”

Severus glared at him. Torturing someone without having some specific suspicion of his guilt was illegal according to a rescript of the Emperor Hadrian.

Secundus brought the judge into his office, rummaged through a pile of files on a table, pulled one out, and extracted a sheet of papyrus. Here’s the confession.”

“I, Ganymede, slave of Prefect Marcus Annius Calvus, do hereby confess that on the night of the Ides of May, I put poison in the drinking cup of my master, the cup with the dolphins. I confess I intended to kill my master.

“Because I thought my wife Theodora was unfaithful to me with the Prefect, I wanted to kill the Prefect. I now know I was wrong in this belief.

“I procured the poison from an Egyptian sorceress named Phna. Her shop is in the Rhakotis Section of the City, near the Moon Gate. I procured it five days before the Ides of May and waited for an opportunity to use it. I put it in my master’s drinking cup a few minutes after the entertainment began. I did not put it in anyone else’s cup.

“I am sorry that the wrong person died and I wish to be executed for what I did.”

“/s/ Ganymede, slave of
Marcus Annius Calvus.”

Severus looked up. “Have the local police, the
phylakes
, spoken to this sorceress, Phna? Did she corroborate the confession?”

“She denied it, of course,” answered Secundus. “I questioned her myself. Oh, she admits Ganymede was a customer of hers. But she denies it was poison he bought. She claims she never deals in poison. Only herbs and magic potions. She said she often mixed love potions for Ganymede. But everyone knows all these old women deal in poisons too. Only she’ll never admit it to the authorities. The law against poisoners, you know.”

Severus glanced through the rest of the file. There was a list of the other slave who had been tortured, a report of an interview with the sorceress Phna confirming what Secundus had said, a list of the guests at the orgy with a diagram of the seating arrangements, and the
court documents -- the charge sheet, the trial extracts, the judgment and the order of execution. Ganymede had been beheaded. There was also a painting of a thin, old man, with a weak chin and a balding head.

“Is this Ganymede?” asked Severus.

“Yes,” answered Secundus. “A police artist did it to show around to witnesses during the investigation.”

“Who else was questioned?”

“Everyone at the party, naturally. The guests and the women.”

Severus leafed through the file a second time. “I don’t see any affidavits from any of them and from a quick glance at the trial extract, none of them were witnesses.”

“It wasn’t necessary,” said Secundus casually. “No one had any information and the confession was all we needed.”

Severus closed the file. He looked straight at Secundus. “I’m sure you know that the law requires corroboration of evidence extracted by torture.”

“I know that. But there is corroboration. The sorceress Phna sold Ganymede potions.”

“But she didn’t admit selling him poison. She denied it. So how can that be corroboration?” asked Severus, his face twisting up in an unpleasant expression. Secundus simply shrugged with an unconcerned look on his face.

“I was the judge at his trial,” declared Secundus, “and the evidence showed he was guilty. He confessed and I followed all the correct procedures even to turning my toga inside out when delivering the death sentence.”

Severus got up to leave. “I’ll take this file with me, if you don’t mind.”

Secundus nodded in assent.

“By the way,” added Severus, “I would like to have a word with Ganymede’s wife. She’s still the property of the Prefect, isn’t she? I’m sure the Prefect wouldn’t mind me talking to her under the circumstances.”

“No, I’m sure he wouldn’t. But she’s no longer in Alexandria. She was sent to the Prefect’s estate in Sicily after Ganymede was executed.” Secundus walked the judge to the door. “The poor fool was deluded. We all felt sorry for him.” He pointed to the file in the judge’s hand. “You might have seen in the order of execution that we allowed Ganymede to be beheaded. It was really quite a consideration on the part of the Prefect to proscribe the most lenient form of the death penalty, usually reserved for members of the Senatorial and Equestrian Classes --for
honestiores
. Slaves don’t usually get off so lightly.”

Severus was escorted by a slave to the suite of apartments assigned to him and his staff. Everyone was waiting in the atrium and he rapidly briefed them on what he had learned that morning.

“A few free weeks in Egypt,” said Flaccus, smiling broadly. “Where will we go tomorrow?”

“I think we’ll tour Alexandria,” replied Severus, “except for Vulso and Straton.”

“And what are we going to do?” asked the Centurion.

“It looks like we’ve been called back from the finish line to the starting gate, as the saying goes.” He held up Ganymede’s confession. “This has to be corroborated before I and Roman law are satisfied. And so far there is not one iota of corroboration. The starting gate is the orgy itself and the people who attended. So tomorrow I want you to find the House of Selene and set up a conference for the day after tomorrow with all the
hetairai
who attended the orgy.”

V

THE
SOMA
AND THE GREAT LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA

W
hile Vulso and Straton were off to the House of Selene, the judge, Artemisia, his assessor Flaccus, Alexander and Proculus spent the morning as tourists, walking about the city and seeing some of Alexandria’s famous sights.

Unlike most cities, with their narrow streets and jumbled arrangement of houses and buildings evolved over time in a more or less random way, Alexandria was a city planned from its inception on a grid pattern. Alexander the Great and his architect Dinocrates had walked the uninhabited site spreading grain on the ground to mark off the walls and streets. The central streets, the Canopic Way and the Street of the Soma, were wide and colonnaded. The Canopic Way ran parallel to the Mediterranean and was 90 feet wide, broad enough for eight chariots to drive side by side. Streets running perpendicular to the sea were arranged in just such a way as to catch the northern breeze blowing in from the Mediterranean.