The memories of last night were still vivid in my mind, albeit a bit fuzzy. I was dreaming of reliving it all, from the game of tabulae with the mariners from Nivaria, to the many cups of passum, which were so sweet that they were hiding the copious amount of alcohol in it, to what I remembered to be quite a hard trip to the lupanar, in which I stumbled more than I would have wished and then how Desideria, the matron there, pushed me in the arms of Cyriaca, who knew me from before. Now, if we actually did anything, I don’t remember. Considering the amount of alcohol I had, probably I couldn’t rise up to the occasion. I woke up when the sun rose high enough enter the room past the plain, thin linen curtains. I felt a bit cold, as it really felt that autumn was coming, even here, in the far southern fringes of Ebria. The linen sheet was thrown around on the room, but I didn’t want to scare off my sleepiness fully by going after it, so I just spooned Cyriaca closer to me. She probably was awake and was preparing to leave, but she also knew that Desideria, as always would probably just ask me for more money when I leave, so she went on with it. I fell asleep again soon afterwards.
“Quirine!” I heard what didn’t sound to be a voice that should be present in my dreams. “Quirine!” I heard again. I tried to keep myself in the world of dreams, of the sweetness of last night, but as I wanted to hold Cyriaca closer, I could just feel the empty bed, and then a heavy hand, hard and calloused, compared to the warm, soft skin Cyriaca had started shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes, even if it caught me right in the middle of the dream and this felt like the greatest effort ever. Cyriaca was gone, and the wrinkled, sun burned face of Macro, the slave who was administering the Sergia household.
“Macro…” I moaned.
“Dominus, we must go,” he said. I tried to just say no, but I just mumbled something and I turned on the other side of the bed. “Dominus, your mother asked for me to bring you home,” he said, meekly. Seeing that I didn’t move or do anything, he gently shook my shoulder again.
“By the Sun, Macro, you are extremely insistent,” I mutter, as I turn around and open my eyes. “Cyriaca is missing. She should have made my morning much nicer than seeing you here,” I moaned. Macro pursed his lips and shrugged.
“I used to be handsome in my youth,” he said and it couldn’t but make me smirk, but with a pain that felt like a stab in my forehead, I could feel the hangover installing.
“Don’t make me laugh, you Arcadian stulte! My head feels like it weights the same as a whole ox,” I say and I look around the room. My own nakedness contrasted to how Macro was wearing some trousers, a linen tunic, the pilos hat and the observable chain around his neck to signify his slave status, over which he had a necklace that was holding a potter circlet with some symbols to protect him from the evil eye.
“It really is that cold outside?” I asked and he shrugged again.
“So and so… It rained overnight and right around dawn, but will probably be hot in the afternoon,” he said. “Dominus, can we please, move and go back home? Your mother is angry,” he continued, insisting. I groaned, and then rose to just sit in bed, massaging my temples to calm down the headache.
“Why is she angry now?” I asked, but as he was fiddling around I opened my eyes and looked at him, as much as the light felt too strong and sent another stab just right in my forehead.
“It’s the day the Caelii visit,” he said.
“For Sun’s sake, I forgot about that. Damned Caelii…” I mutter as I rise up from the bed. I got towards the wall by the window, beneath which was a small basin with a tap above it. I turned the wooden tap and water started gushing out the lead pipe into the basin, which had a drainage to keep it from flooding. I washed my face first and the tepid but cool water initially felt nice, until it sent yet another stab like feel through my head. As I continued to wash myself, and truly taking my time, Macro was looking around the room for my clothes. I knew mother will be ready for a scandal, so by now it doesn’t matter anymore how much actually we rushed or not.
As I finished, and used the sheet we covered with to wipe myself, and then I turned to Macro, who looked at me disappointed and outright disheartened.
“What?” I asked and I followed his gaze to my tunic, which he put on the bed. The white piece of clothing, with the red circular embroideries had a huge red wine spill in its front.
“Oh, that… yeah, I stumbled and fell on a table in the popina,” I said.
“It won’t wash,” he said quietly, but at the same time, I could feel a desperation in his voice.
“You take it, if you want,” I said and his eyes lightened up a bit.
“I can’t dominus, your mother, she would accuse me of stealing it,” he said and I shook my head.
“She won’t, I’ll talk to her,” I said and I could see him nearly tearing up.
“We should be going, for she will truly turn into a Gorgon if we waste time,” I say, trying to change the subject. “Give me your tunic,” I continue as I point towards his. He looked at me bewildered. “Come on, Macro!” I insisted and he followed suit, taking off his and handing to me the much more low-quality tunic, which scratched me as I put it on.
“Put my paenula on too, so it doesn’t attract attention,” I say to him pointing towards the poncho like cloak. I put on the trousers, which was going down halfway to my tibia, followed by the sandals, and I finish with the loculus, the satchel where I had some money, a small bar of soap, and a short dagger, in case of anything. After that I waited for Macro to pun on my tunic and the paenula, as he was acting like he wasn’t worthy touching and wearing them. We went outside the room and as we have gone downstairs past the hall filled with frescoes showing erotic scenes and crude, lewd graffiti, where I could see the matron, Desideria, standing by the door.
“Young dominus, I hope you had a great time,” she said, smiling and servile, but at the same time also positioning herself in front of the door.
“As always, Desideria,” I say, but she was unmovable. I knew what she wanted. I opened up the loculus and from there, I had a small leather satchel and I gave her a silver Emperor. Macro was shocked at how much I paid, but I preferred to keep Desideria happy, because she always knew what I wanted and always made sure that I got it.
“Damn Caelii,” I mutter again as we go into the sun shining late morning, as we both skipped over some puddles from the rains before. The lupanar I use to visit was in the Claudia area, which was a part of the city of Vallum that was extended during the reign of emperor Claudius some centuries ago, with the expansion of the city walls that went around the extramural developments here, in the northern end of the city. As it was the main port city that served the Diocese of Ebria, and since the collapse of the Diocese of Uladia and the rise of piracy in the seas up north, it served the diocese of Secuania too. The old wooden buildings and shanty neighbourhood were replaced as stone buildings were built, brick insulae, with their tabernae, the shops, downstairs at street levels and with apartments upstairs, which were going as high as to three of four stories. The streets were quite crowded as we passed the buildings which were a mix of red or blue painted at street level, up to a man’s hip in height and from there painted in white, probably to protect against dirt and to keep them cool in the hot Ebrian summers.
“Sorry, dominus, I couldn’t hear you,” Macro said as I muttered curses to the Caelii for their visit and to the headache and hangover that made me dizzy and nauseous.
“I damned this headache,” I said as we continued to navigate the busy streets, before we reached Via Larga, a street wide enough to hold four carriages, two traveling one way and two the other. This was the main avenue that was crossing the city from the port to the northern gate, from which the Via Argintaria was starting, going for about a week east-noth-east by horse ride trot to Patricium through Cuminaria, and from there, after five more days it reached Sestinum.
We stopped in front of the Solarium, where the Via Larga was opening up to a public square, right before the forum, where the masses of people travelling the street stopped. I tried to look around to see what was happening, but all I could see was the dome of the Solarium and the tower behind it. The cult of Sol was introduced about a century ago by Claudius Magnus, the same emperor who expanded Vallum, so of course he ensured that the old Pantheon, a temple in the center of the city dedicated to the old gods would be transformed into a temple dedicated solely to Sol. Usually they were just called Sun Temples, with the exception of the five Solariums, one in Vallum, Anicium, Sestinum, Megalopolis and another in Bagradas, each representing the headquarters of the five Pontifices, which formed the Council of Pontiffs. They were built in such a way that they had a series of windows from which the sun would, during the Summer Solstice, shine within them for the duration of the whole day. The Solariums were built with yellow sandstone and covered in rich golden yellow marble, while the tower which stands behind the building had a large solar symbol with twelve rays, symbolizing the twelve months of the solar calendar, all made of gold. Usually, the smaller Solar Temples weren’t as richly decorated, nor did they have a dome, but rather a simple rooftop, but what they all shared were the tower with the solar symbol behind the building. In front of them there were always large cauldrons where fires were burning during the day, when there was clear sky, to symbolize the sunshine. Inside it was a large area where people came to pray or to listen the sermon from the priest, who was giving it in front of a seated statue of Sol, represented as a man with short hair, large beard, wearing a golden crown with sun rays, and wielding a sceptre with a golden sun and its twelve rays. In the majority of temples, Sol was represented standing, in the heroic nude, but in Vallum’s Solarium it was represented seated on a throne and wearing a toga, which used to be the Sestinian’s high class most formal attire, nowadays long obsolete.
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I was feeling more and more dizzy and nauseous as I was feeling my stomach rumbling too, and I was swearing on everything Sol had and offered to his most pious worshippers that I will never drink so much again, but as much as I try to go past the crowd, I don’t seem to be allowed. Macro said something, but I couldn’t hear him in this agitation that was just making my head pound even more.
“The sun is there!” I could hear someone in the square yelling, and then I observed we ended up in a meeting of the purist zealots that I always heard father talk about. “We don’t need it in the impure material form! We don’t need it hidden between the walls of corruption and riches, while its sons are dying of hunger! Listen to me, sons of Sol! When you will raise your arms for the glory of the sun, the father that gave us all life will look upon our prayers and scorch all evil on this world!” the preacher was shouting and as he finished his last phrase, about half the people in the square rose their hands, pointing towards the sun in the sky. I tried some more to go past them, but as some got rowdy as I tried to push them to make way, Macro pulled me back.
“Dominus, let’s avoid the forum, it might get bad,” he said. I looked around. I wanted to just arrive home as fast as possible, and through the forum was the easiest.
“We’ll go through the fullonicae,” I say, seeing his direct gaze and the dilated pupils and a slight shaking hand as he was still holding me. He nodded. We went back and then on a street on the left. “What in Sol’s name was all that?” I asked.
“Zealots…” Macro said as he was following me. I covered my nose with the tunic, as I would have rather smelled Macro’s sweat than the aromas of the fullonicae, which was the area of the town where the washers were working and they used urine left to maturate in the sun to get ammonia to disinfect the clothes and the smell was terrible.
“Father talked about how they will bring an end to the Empire,” I said and Macro, who followed me with no issue, nodded.
“They appeared from the Orontide coast. I remember, back in Megalopolis they were received by the followers of the faith with clubs and stones,” Macro said.
“I forgot you’re Arcadian,” I commented.
“Dominus, I was a broken man, a gambler, lost my family for it, and now I’m none. I will be none for a few more years and afterwards, I think I will try to go back to Megalopolis to see if my wife would take me back, but if not, your father was a generous master,” he said. I shrugged.
“Macro, you did help us and Juba a lot. The fact that you knew how to read and write made you probably more valuable than everyone at the latifundium,” I said and it was his turn to shrug, not being impressed.
“I could have been even better,” he muttered. I turned at him and I could see his eyes opening wide again, he observed that his mouth talked without his brain. Probably your usual master would have slapped him, but I never wanted to be my mother, nor my father. I just shrugged.
“Libertas, Pietas, Virilitas, Auctoritas, Sestinitas, are the marks of a real Sestinian man,” I said, repeating the adage I’ve been told again and again at the Quintilian University. Now it’s Durans’ turn to hear it again and again.
We went past the fullonicae and then we went on some narrow streets where there were some insulae, but with less activity than in up in Claudia. After we crossed the Via Larga, which was blocked by carts and horse or ox drawn carriages which made me think that the forum and the Solarium Square were still blocked, we went into what was the richest area of the whole of Vallum, if not the whole Diocese of Ebria. The street was narrow, for just one cart, but with trees on both sides of the cobbled road, and with villas behind them. Most of the Sestinian villas had just a large wall, that was usually painted with all sorts of motifs, and a large door. Inside one would find a receiving hall, which was called a vestibulum, followed by an even larger room, an atrium, where the day-to-day affairs of the family were done. Behind the atrium stood an open courtyard and around it were the sleeping rooms, and just very far behind, the storage and servants’ quarters. The villa of gens Sergia was built in the very same way. The family owned a villa in Vallum, which was the family’s ancestral home, a latifundium about half a day’s walk north of the city, where we grew olives and hemp, whose oil and textile offered a decent revenue, which was complementing the pension of ex-consul and ex-magister militum father had, plus the salary, gifts and bribes he was receiving, as while he was an Aedile of Vallum, everyone knew him as the go to man for as far as the office of Vicar of Ebria. The family also owned a house in Sestinum, about half the size of the villa in Vallum, that was used when any of the family had affairs in the capital.
I knocked on the door, and quickly, Melania, opened the door for me. She was a very old servant that was always besides mother and always took care of her whims, served her food and wine, and took care of the bedroom in which she and father slept. I went past her, and I saw mother with my sister, Felicia, which we called Minor, or the younger, as she shared the same name as mother. They were talking with a merchant of some sorts, who was showing them jewelries and some cloths, when they saw me.
Felicia Minor gave me a nod as a greeting, but mother saw me and I could see her mouth, perched in a smile as she was looking at a hair net, turn into a grimace. He muttered something to the merchant and gave the golden and bejeweled net back to him and then quickly came to me. She slapped me and that took me by surprise, something that she observed.
“How could you, Quirinus?” she said. “In the day the Caelii are coming for a banquet, I have to send Macro to go around all of this city’s brothels to look for you,” she said angrily.
“It’s just the Caelii. I’ve meet them a few years back when I traveled to Sestinum with father. Plus, I wouldn’t have missed it, I would have come home before prandium,” I said and she slapped me again.
“Sol, give me power…” she muttered. “I don’t know how I’ve been cursed so that you’ve become so indolent in your adult years, when you were so pious and good in your puer years,” she said and then gestured to Melania.
“Tell the good man that I will buy the hair net and the necklace we talked of. I need to impress Olivia Amelia,” she continued and after Melania left for Felicia Minor and the merchant, she took me by the arm and pulled me to the courtyard, where none of the others could hear us and then sat on a small bench.
“Understand, Quirinus, that this isn’t a normal visit. Marsus is coming with his wife as a ploy, to visit Flavius, to discuss politics. And if he feels the need to come with her, under the excuse that she feels unwell in Sestinum and would want to spend autumn and winter in Vallum with her family, it means he wants her away from the capital,” she said. “Now, do you understand that you need to do anything you can, to act like a real Sestinian man, rather than a spoiled brat, and sort yourself out?” she continued and I nodded. “Good. You had Arch-Curate Vitruvius from the Quintilian University as your mentor in rhetoric and politics, and you are a man of gen Sergia, so this is the time, when you need to look back in the past ten years, wonder what went wrong, and try to turn back time and be who this family and your destiny requires of you, that being a mature, pious and serious man,” she said and then rose from the bench. “Go eat something, clean up and ask Primus to cut your hair. The water is warm, as me and Felicia already bathed. If your father sees you like this, I don’t know what he will do,” she said.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“He was at the Administrative Palace to meet with some petitioners, before the Caelii arrive,” she said and then turned her back on me, returning to Felicia and the merchant.
I shrugged and rose, going in the back of the estate, by the kitchen. There was intense activity there, as they were cooking all sorts of foods, with a servant woman cleaning four chickens of their entrails and plumage, while another was preparing some chickpeas, and another was filling up sausages. They were startled by my entrance.
“Is there something quick to snack on?” I asked. “Dominus,” one said and offered me some bread from what was probably baked in the morning and remained from breakfast and then offered me some moretum, the cheese herbs and garlic spead and I had these and then ate some figs which one of the servants was using to fill one chicken, together with leeks and coriander, while it was rubbing it with garum and white pepper corns brought from far east in the Saka Empire through the Pepper Road. I could feel a bit of annoyance when she observed she didn’t have enough figs because of me and had to go to the storeroom for more, but she didn’t say anything.
Feeling much better, as after eating the nausea and the headache had gone away, I crossed again the courtyard. I could see mother and Felicia analysing some silks, this time with a different merchant. I went right towards the bath house. The piscina wasn’t large like in a public bath house, but it was decent for a family. Steam was coming out the water and rose petals were floating in it. Macro was there, preparing the bath. I observed that he had a grey tunic on.
“Macro, everything fine?” I asked, more as a way to greet him again. My way of talking to Macro always exasperated mother, who thought that talking like this to servants made them forget their place in society.
“Yes, dominus. The bath is ready,” he said and I nodded. I took off his tunic and then my shoes, trousers and finally underwear and folded them on a stone bench beside the piscina, but as I prepared to enter, I had an idea and stopped. I turned towards the bench and took Macro’s tunic and handed it to him. “Dominus…” he said.
“Just take it. Mother didn’t say anything about the other and clearly won’t observe it is missing,” I said. He nodded and took the tunic, folded it much neater than what I did and put it on top of a stand in the room, besides the door.
I entered the water and sat down, lounged on the bottom of the piscina, with my back resting on the walls around it. It was square shaped, with the side the length of the heigh of two grown men and the depth of up to one grown man’s knees.
“Sol, I feel the whole poison of last night is just flowing out of me,” I said and I heard Macro mumbling something in approval. I soaked for some minutes in the warm water and then I requested some soap from Macro and finally he helped wipe me. I then send Macro to find the other servant, and he came and cut my hair, which I asked him to do it as short as possible, which he managed to make it half the width of a finger. When he wanted to prepare the razor and the olive oil for the shave, I stopped him and told him to just trim it. He then went to take a small set of shears and began his work.
“By Sol, back in my day, we were all told that Sestinitas came from shaving the beard too,” I heard father’s voice as he entered the back house. “Emperor Laurus really was loved by everyone if even today, the youth prefer to copy his short beard style,” he said, referring to the previous emperor. Flavius Sergius Ursinius was a mountain of a man, by Ebrian standards, in his mid to late 50s, with graying hair and piercing dark brown eyes. His bass and authoritative voice was something I always hated that I lacked, as both me and Durans inherited the more baritone and higher voices from mother’s family. He was known by friends as Flavius, but besides his father-in-law, mother, and Gaius Caelius, nobody called him like that. For us, he was father and for the rest of the world, he was Ursinius, as it was respectable to use the cognomen for a prestigious patrician. Primus, the servant stood at attention in front of him, but he quickly gestured him to continue.
“I don’t want to argue, Quirinus, I just want you to know, that I have knowledge of your whereabouts from last night,” he said. “You need to do your duty for this family, not just get drunk and fuck all whores you can, forever! After the banquet we will talk more about it,” he said and then turned and left the bathhouse.