The ceremony was concluded. They retired to the garden to await the day’s events. Nothing in the garden was as beautiful as Chrysanthe, thought Lucius, feeling proud, as he often did, of the choice he had made for a bride so many years ago. Nor was anything in the garden as fragrant as Chrysanthe. “You smell of rose petals and milk,” he whispered in her ear.
She smiled. “Credit the emperor’s wife. Poppaea has made it fashionable for the best women in Roma to bathe in milk.”
“And will you become a Jewess, like the empress?” asked Titus, teasing her. It was widely known that Poppaea had shown favour to the Jews in Roma and had regularly received their scholars and holy men. Some claimed she had secretly converted to the religion.
“No more than you have become a Christian,” said his wife, teasing him back. She gestured to the fascinum, which Titus was wearing to mark the special occasion. Titus did not find this jest particularly funny. It seemed to him that Kaeso must have altered the amulet in some way to make it look even more like a cross. Nevertheless, Titus wore the fascinum openly and proudly, refusing to hide it inside his toga.
There was a knock at the door, followed by a flurry of excitement in the house. Even the slaves were excited, and with good cause. It was not every day that the emperor himself came calling.
Hilarion rushed into the garden. “They’re here, Master!”
“Are they coming in?”
“I think not, Master. The man at the door says you’re to come out and join them.”
“Then we mustn’t keep them waiting.” Titus took his wife by the hand and allowed his son to lead the way.
The retinue in the street was even larger than Titus had expected. There were secretaries and scribes, a troop of Praetorians, several senators in togas, and even a colourful group of actors and acrobats. In the middle of the retinue, carried by some of the brawniest slaves Titus had ever seen, was a large litter set on gilded poles and decorated to look like a giant swan. A hand adorned by many rings pulled back a purple curtain. Smiling broadly, Nero made a gesture of welcome. Sitting next to him was the beautiful Poppaea, her blonde hair done up in an elaborate fashion that Titus had never seen before.
Portable steps were produced. Chrysanthe entered the litter first, followed by Titus and Lucius. They settled amid plush cushions across from the emperor and his wife. Titus felt Chrysanthe tremble and he took her hand. Poppaea smiled at this gesture of intimacy and likewise took one of Nero’s bejewelled hands in hers.
“We’re not pressed for time. I thought we might take a little tour of the city on the way to our destination,” said Nero.
“Certainly,” said Titus. “There’s so much construction going on, all over Roma, I can’t keep up with it.” Actually, Titus was well aware of almost every building project in the city, but the tour would be a treat for Chrysanthe and Lucius, and he was enormously flattered by the emperor’s offer to spend time with his family.
Nero smiled. “My great-great-grandfather famously said that he found Roma a city of bricks and left her clad in marble. I found a city of scorched marble but shall leave her covered in gold.”
As they were carried aloft through the city, Nero proudly pointed out the rapid progress that had been made on reconstructing various temples and public structures. The rebuilding of the Circus Maximus was one of the largest projects; it would be some time before it was ready to reopen, but Nero had plans to make it more splendid and beautiful than before. There were also curiosities to be seen. Up on the Palatine, the ancient Hut of Romulus had been spared by the fire, and though most of the oldest parts of the imperial residence had been burned, the laurel trees flanking the original entrance had survived and remain intact.
“Surely that’s an omen, father,” declared Lucius, overcoming his shyness in front of the imperial couple, especially Poppaea, whose beauty could have intimidated any man.
“It certainly is,” said Titus. “Those trees appear to be indestructible, immune to both fire and lightning. I believe those two laurel trees will survive as long as there are descendants of the Divine Augustus.”
This comment was clearly appreciated by the imperial couple, who gave each other a loving glance. Poppaea, though not showing it yet, was rumoured to be pregnant. Her first child with Nero, a daughter, had died in infancy; Nero had been grief-stricken. Now there was again hope for a new generation directly descended from the Divine Augustus, and an heir for the emperor, who was not yet thirty.
“So many beautiful old houses were lost,” said Nero, pressing his fingertips together while he gazed at the passing view. “But the fire displaced not just the wealthy who lived on the Palatine, but a great many other people as well. I’m told many of those citizens lived in appalling squalor, stacked atop one another with hardly enough room to turn around. Well, we shall build shiny new tenements for them, better than those rat-traps they lived in before. That will take time, of course. For now, sadly, many of the homeless are still in temporary shelters on the Field of Mars and at my own gardens across the Tiber. To give the citizens work, I’ve hired a veritable army of bricklayers and day labourers for construction projects all over the city. To feed their families, I’ve repeatedly lowered the price of grain. And to make sure such a catastrophe never occurs again, I’ve introduced new building codes that the experts assure me will reduce the danger of fire – buildings set farther apart, limitations on their height, requirements to keep firefighting implements such as picks and buckets on the premises, that sort of thing. Oh, look there,” he said, pointing to an aqueduct covered with scaffolding. “We’re also repairing and extending the aqueducts that were damaged. There must be cisterns and fountains to ensure an adequate water supply to fight any fire that may occur in the future.”
“Caesar’s swift and steady response to the crisis has been an inspiration to us all,” said Titus.
“Ah, now we’re passing through the very heart of what will become the new imperial complex,” said Nero, grinning with excitement. “This entire side of the Palatine has been cleared and claimed for the new imperial apartments. And down there, in that cleared area that used to be crammed with hideous old buildings, there will be a rather large lake, entirely enclosed within the imperial complex. Won’t that be charming? A private lake in the heart of the city, surrounded by vineyards and gardens and a little forest stocked with wild deer, so that Poppaea and I may retreat for a stroll in the countryside, or even go hunting, without ever stepping outside the imperial palace, much less the city walls. Of course, the lake will have a practical purpose as well. It will serve as a reservoir, a source of water in the event of fire.”
The creation of the artificial lake was well under way. Hundreds of workers were raking and shovelling great piles of excavated earth, shaping them into the rolling hills that would become the man-made woodland surrounding the lake.
“Along here, on this side of the lake, there will be a vast pavilion with a covered walkway a mile long,” said Nero. “The rooms will be very spacious and finished with the best of everything – imported marbles, fine statuary, ivory screens, and the most sumptuous fabrics. You must see the sketches the designers have made for me. The ceilings will be decorated with gleaming gems and mother-of-pearl, so that at night, by lamplight, it will seem that the starry sky itself has descended to gaze with envy at such splendid rooms. And gold – there must be a great deal of gold everywhere. We shall cover the whole facade with tiles of golden glass, so that it dazzles the eye. The only colour that truly pleases me is purple, and the only metal is gold. How I love the weight of it, and the mellow colour, like sunlight on water. Like that lovely little golden amulet you’re always wearing, Senator Pinarius.”