Empire - Saylor Steven (читать полные книги онлайн бесплатно TXT) 📗

“And don’t forget handsome,” said Plotina with a smile.

Hadrian nodded to acknowledge the compliment, but touched his fingers to one acne-scarred cheek.

“What else is on the agenda?” said Trajan. The secretary handed him another document. “Ah, the new census I commissioned. Can you believe that Roma has a million inhabitants? So many people!”

“And so much misery,” said Plotina. “I took a walk yesterday through the Subura. The squalour was shocking; so many children, dressed in rags and running wild.”

“The growing number of the destitute is not just a problem in Roma,” said Hadrian, “but in every city of the empire.”

“Domitian did nothing about the problem, of course,” said Trajan, “but Nerva instituted a system of financial relief for the children of the poor, and also for orphans. I intend to continue that relief. Perhaps we can even expand the system, if we can fill the treasury.”

“One hears there are more abandoned infants now than ever before,” said Plotina, “newborns left to die, not on remote hillsides but just outside the city walls. The situation is so common that people travelling along the roads think nothing of seeing the corpse of an infant lying in the gutter. Where do these unfortunate children come from, in such great numbers?”

“I was just reading a discourse by Dio of Prusa on that very topic,” said Hadrian. “He speculates that slave women, impregnated by a master or by another slave, often abort children, or else hide their pregnancies and then abandon the infant.”

“But abandoning one’s child to die – how could even a slave do such a thing?” said Plotina. After many years of marriage, she herself remained childless.

“Dio says that such a slave woman gets rid of her baby so as to escape the added slavery of having to raise a child that will simply become another slave for her master’s use.”

“What a vexing situation,” said Plotina. “So many problems, so much suffering.”

“And so very little we can do about it,” said Trajan.

“All the more reason, husband, that we must do whatever we can.”

Trajan smiled ruefully. “Speaking of Dio of Prusa, cousin, I almost regret introducing myself to the man. He’s taken the liberty of sending me a lengthy piece with the title ‘Oration on Kingship.’ He seems to expect me to read the thing and send him a reply. I don’t think he realizes that a man engaged in actually running the world hardly has time to read a long-winded compilation of helpful suggestions, however well intentioned.”

“And are his suggestions helpful?” said Plotina.

“Honestly, I tried to skim the thing, but it’s so full of high-flown phrases and obscure literary allusions that I couldn’t make any sense of it. Perhaps, cousin, you could read Dio’s oration and prepare a brief summary for me? Then I can send the fellow a suitable reply.”

“I’ve already read it,” said Hadrian.

Trajan raised an eyebrow. “He sent you a copy?”

“I think he sent copies to just about everyone he could think of. He’s distributed the oration far and wide.”

“The nerve of the man!”

“Dio wishes to have an influence on the world. To do that, he must influence the emperor. To influence the emperor, he uses the tool he knows best: words.”

“Words can be very powerful,” said Trajan.

“Indeed they can. Which is why it is better for Caesar to have these philosophers as friends rather than enemies. In point of fact, much of his advice is quite sound. I’ll read his oration again and prepare a summary which Caesar can read at his leisure.”

“Leisure!” Trajan laughed. “I have precious little of that. Well, we’ve talked enough of the great problems of the world. Let’s see if we can actually get something done this morning. What sort of petitions are on the agenda?” He gestured to the secretary, who brought him a list of the citizens who were awaiting an audience, along with a description of their requests.

“What’s this one?” Trajan peered more closely at the list. “Lucius Pinarius: the name sounds vaguely familiar. Have I ever met this fellow?”

“I don’t think so,” said Hadrian. “I looked at the list earlier, and I also noticed the name. The Pinarii are an ancient patrician family, cousins of the Divine Julius and the Divine Augustus, but this bearer of the name is a man of no particular importance – not even a senator – though he does appear to possess considerable wealth.”

Trajan grunted. “According to these notes, his request is linked to an issue we were just discussing. This Lucius Pinarius desires to redeem a foster child from slavery; he claims the child is his offspring and he wants to have the boy legally recognized as such, so that the boy’s name and citizenship are restored. That’s not the same as manumission, is it? Legally, it would be saying that the boy was born a citizen and so was never a slave, despite the fact that he was raised as one.”

“There are plenty of precedents for such cases,” noted Hadrian, “but legal technicalities invariably arise that must be decided on a case-by-case basis. For example, should the foster child’s current master be paid for the child’s upbringing, or should the master relinquish the child to its lawful parent without payment?”

Trajan nodded thoughtfully. “How old is the boy?”

The secretary consulted his notes. “Fifteen, Caesar.”

Trajan raised an eyebrow. “Ah! Well, let’s have look. Show them in.”

Dressed in his best toga, Lucius Pinarius entered the room and stood before the emperor. His demeanour was humble but confident, and he glanced about the room in a way that suggested he was not unfamiliar with the surroundings. The wide-eyed boy who accompanied him, on the other hand, was obviously dazzled by the magnificence of the room.

Trajan and Hadrian exchanged brief but knowing glances. Both had an appreciative eye for male beauty, and the boy was extremely good-looking. With his dark blonde hair and flashing green eyes, he did not much resemble his reputed father.

Trajan took the secretary’s notes on the case and read them, then passed the notes to Hadrian. He looked at Lucius Pinarius.

“It would appear, citizen, that your claim of paternity for this boy is flimsy at best. You won’t reveal the identity of the mother, for one thing. Why not?”

“My relationship with the boy’s mother was irregular, Caesar.”

“In other words, a cause for scandal.”

“Had it not been kept secret, it would have caused a scandal, yes,” said Lucius. “That is why I wish her identity to remain a secret, even though she is no longer alive. But I swear by the gods that she was a freeborn woman, and thus so was our child.”

“You’re certain the boy was your offspring, and not that of another man?”

“I am, Caesar.”

Hadrian looked up from the notes. “If this account is correct, the boy was abandoned shortly after birth in the vicinity of Alba. He was harvested by a scavenger and sold as a slave, then passed though several hands before he was acquired by his current master. You’ve clearly documented all the steps you took to track him down, yet how can you be certain this individual is in fact the boy you seek?”

“By an unusual physical characteristic.”

Hadrian glanced again at the notes. “Ah, yes, I see: his webbed toes.” He looked at the boy and smiled. “His face is perfect, yet the gods have given him a hidden flaw. It’s like a poem by Theocritus.”

Trajan laughed and shook his head. “Little Greek! Was there ever a pretty boy who did not suggest to you a poem by someone or other? But what of the boy’s current owner? Show him in.”

The man who entered was dressed not in a toga but in a brightly coloured tunic. That he was not a Roman citizen became evident when he spoke with a cosmopolitan Greek accent. “My name is Acacius, Caesar. I live in Neapolis. This boy is my property.”

Trajan looked at the man’s feet. “Your sandals are covered with dust.”