Empire - Saylor Steven (книги без сокращений TXT) 📗
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to visit you in prison, Lucius,” said Epaphroditus. He kept his distance and maintained a dignified posture, but his voice was thick with emotion. “It wasn’t possible, given my new position. To see you like this, in shackles-”
“You serve Domitian now?”
Epaphroditus flashed a crooked smile. “The emperor called me out of retirement. He insisted that the state required my services. I saw no way to decline his request.”
“You should be flattered, I suppose,” said Lucius. “The emperor could use the help of the man who ran the Golden House.” It seemed that Domitian – who refused to have among his courtiers anyone who had been close to his father or to his brother, and in his fits of suspicion had eliminated many members of his own imperial staff – was now being forced to reach back to the days of Nero to find men of sufficient experience to run the state.
“I would gladly have remained as I was, a retired observer of events,” said Epaphroditus. “Still, there are advantages to my new position. I was able, for example, to persuade the emperor to give me the role of preparing you and your friend for your trial.”
Epaphroditus turned to Apollonius. “Are you aware of the rules of procedure? The trial will take place before a select audience of senators, magistrates, and imperial dignitaries. The charges against you will be read by a prosecutor. You will have a chance to respond to those charges. Then Caesar will render judgement.”
“Caesar will judge me?” said Apollonius.
“Yes.”
“But who will judge Caesar?”
Epaphroditus raised an eyebrow. “Caesar is not on trial.”
“No? I think he has committed many offenses contrary to the teachings of philosophy.”
Epaphroditus sighed. “Caesar is not concerned with philosophy.”
“Ah, but philosophy is very much concerned with Caesar, that he should govern as a wise man.”
Epaphroditus sighed and exchanged looks with Apollonius that left Lucius perplexed. He had presumed that Epaphroditus and Apollonius were strangers – or did they know each other?
Epaphroditus continued. “You’ll have only a short time to give your answers. Look to the water clock. When the water level drops and the lever rises, that means your time is growing short. Finish what you have to say. You won’t be allowed to speak longer than the clock permits.”
“Then I hope that the Tiber itself is connected to this water clock, for every drop of its water will be needed for me to say all I have to say to the emperor.”
“I’m afraid your time will be considerably shorter than that,” said Epaphroditus. “Also, you are not allowed to bring anything with you into the chamber from which you might read or with which you might cast a magical spell. So you may not have on your person any scroll or scrap of parchment or anything at all with writing on it, or any amulet or other magical device.”
“As we were stripped naked and then dressed by servants of the emperor himself, I think that will not be a problem,” said Apollonius.
“Still, it is my duty to make sure there is nothing concealed in your tunics. Raise your arms as high as you can.”
Epaphroditus ran his hands over Apollonius, then did the same thing to Lucius.
Lucius stiffened, for he realized that he was wearing the fascinum beneath the thin tunic. He suppressed an urge to touch it. Epaphroditus ran his hands over Lucius’s chest. He must have felt the talisman, yet he said nothing and stepped back.
Epaphroditus led them into the judgement chamber, a somber but magnificent room decorated with dark marbles and blood-red curtains. Before a towering statue of Minerva sat Domitian. Seated cross-legged on the dais beside him was his small-headed companion. Epaphroditus joined a group of other courtiers who stood to one side. Next to him was the water clock he had mentioned. The inner workings of the device were hidden behind an ornate bronze covering that depicted images of the sun, moon, and stars.
Among the senators in the room, Lucius saw the white-haired Nerva and several others who had visited Apollonius. There were also some faces he recognized from gatherings of Apollonius’s followers – magistrates and even a few imperial courtiers who had dared to attend meetings in private homes where the Teacher spoke. Lucius felt heartened by the sight of these familiar faces, even though not one of them dared to look him in the eye or show any sign of sympathy.
The prosecutor stepped forward. Lucius’s heart sank. It was Catullus. The blind man carried a staff and was assisted by a secretary who frequently whispered in his ear.
“Dominus, the magician Apollonius and his accomplice Lucius Pinarius have entered your divine presence,” said Catullus, “The time has come for them to submit to your judgement. The magician will be tried first. Step forward, Apollonius of Tyana. Look upon our Master and God, address him as Dominus, and beseech him to be just and merciful to you.”
Apollonius stepped forward, but he did not look at Domitian. Instead, he seemed to look everywhere else. He looked at the emperor’s small- headed companion and made a whimsical face, as one might at a child, at which the creature seemed to take fright and started back. He gazed curiously at the water clock next to Epaphroditus. He looked over his shoulder at the spectators and smiled.
Catullus’s assistant whispered furiously in his ear. Catullus struck his staff against the marble floor. “Magician! You will face and address our Master and God!”
“Very well,” said Apollonius with a shrug. He lifted his head and gazed upwards, and raised his shackled hands as high as he could. “Divine Singularity, emanation of perfection whom the Romans call Jupiter, greatest of gods!” he cried. “Reveal your wisdom to us. Render your judgement. Make known to us your will. Tell us, we beseech you, who displeases you more – the man who utters profane flattery, or the man who receives it?”
There were gasps from the onlookers.
Catullus struck his staff against the marble floor, demanding silence. “We can dispense with your formal response to the first charge against you, since, by your actions, magician, you have just given us ample reply.”
“And what was that charge?”
“That you refuse to show proper respect to Caesar and address him as Dominus.”
“You told me to look upon our Master and God, and I did. I looked upward to the Divine Singularity.”
“Don’t try to throw dust in our eyes with a pretense of piety, magician. Is it not true that you believe yourself to be a god? Is it not true that others have called you a god, and that you accepted their worship without objection?”
“Prosecutor, I am impressed,” said Apollonius. “You have done your research. I believe you must be referring to my days in India, when I sought wisdom among the sages of the Ganges. They refer to themselves as gods. When I asked them why, they answered: ‘Because we are good men.’ All creatures, despite their mortal forms, possess divinity, and to be truly good is to be godly. Before I left them, the Indian sages addressed me as ‘god,’ and I was honoured.”
“So a man can become a god simply by being good?”
“To be good is not as simple as you seem to think.”
“But if you meet a good man, you gladly call him ‘god’?”
“I do. If the man you want me to address as a god were a good man, I would gladly do so.”
Again there were gasps from the spectators. Catullus banged his staff repeatedly against the floor.
The small-headed creature was heard to mumble, in a high voice, “He isn’t even wearing shoes!”
“What’s that?” said Apollonius. “Speak up, little one.”
The creature hissed and spat, like a cat with its back up. “You come here barefoot!” he cried. “You show contempt to Caesar!”
“If I had put on the shoes I was offered, I would have shown contempt to the poor animal who provided the hide. I would no more kill a cow, a godly creature, and carve it up, simply to cover my feet, than I would kill and carve you up, my little friend, to make a pair of shoes out of you. The bounty of the soil provides all that I require to eat and clothe myself. If I must protect my feet, I wear shoes made of cloth and bark. I need not resort to the killing of fellow creatures.”
