He sighed. 'I have long prayed, Brother, for the gift of eloquence, for the grace of persuasive speech with which to win him over — '
'You pray for the wrong gift, Caesarius,' I interrupted him. 'Eloquence of speech is not yours to have. Simplicity is your true gift. It is by simple speech that you best express yourself, it is by simple words that you best convey your faith in the perfection of the Kingdom to come. Remember: "The sun rose again on another day."'
Thus the last I spake with my brother before his departure for Antioch. His own narrative now continues.
BOOK NINE
If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.
I
'Your place has long been empty.'
Julian pointed to the familiar bench, my battered shield still slung from the backrest where I had always kept it, ready to be used whenever Julian called for one of his spontaneous sparring sessions. The surroundings, however, were unfamiliar: a large, high-ceilinged, and lavish room, the walls painted with gaudy murals of frolicking satyrs and nude river nymphs, and an equally intricate mosaic on the floor depicting a vast pastoral scene. He, too, looked unfamiliar. Far from his typically casual, even shabby woolen garb, his formal court tunic was of a spotless white linen, the traditional broad purple band at the hem embroidered with gold denoting his rank. Even his beard, which mercifully he had retained or I would not have recognized him, was carefully trimmed to a self-conscious point and washed, and his normally unkempt hair was styled in the short, neat fashion of the day. The eunuchs of the court, I saw, had been exerting their influence, though I could not say, by these appearances alone, that it was for the worse. His eyes, however, were more hollow than I had remembered. More hollow, more wary, like those of an animal on its guard, or one about to attack. Only the bare wooden bench and shield in the corner remained of our old friendship.
I smiled wanly as I stood and surveyed him. 'You've changed,' I said. 'At least the eunuchs haven't convinced you to take off the beard. You still look Greek.'
He chuckled. 'Oh, they tried, believe me. The first time I allowed that doddering old fool Eutrapelus to give me a shave, he took so long that by the time he finished, my whiskers had grown back again. I have no doubt, Caesarius, that you yourself could have performed a neater field amputation than the job he did scraping my chin, but when I complained of the cuts, he tried rubbing my face with his depilatory liniment, some vile, secret psilothrum he had concocted out of ass's fat, bat's blood, and powdered viper that made my skin flower into a rash, not to mention making me want to vomit from the smell. Is it any wonder I let my beard grow?'
I laughed, but then became serious again. 'You're the Emperor. You needn't take advice from anyone — eunuch or dwarf.'
He paused for a moment. 'There are many times I could have benefited from your common sense, Caesarius,' he said softly.
'You said harsh things that night,' I answered.
Julian shrugged. 'It was the wine speaking. You know I meant no offense.'
I sighed as I tried out my old seat on the bench. 'You know I forgive you. It's my duty as a Christian. I think you may forgive yourself too easily, however.'
'Others are unforgiving, Caesarius. I know what your brother has been preaching about me in his sermons. Gregory is a good man, but a misguided one, and a trifle hysterical.'
'He has good reason. Is it true about the persecutions?'
At this question, he looked slightly taken aback, but quickly recovered.
'Caesarius,' he said calmly, 'the very fact that your brother continues to be allowed to preach against me, and not only to preach but to call me by all sorts of foul names, is proof of the… exaggeration of his accusations, is it not?'
'And Marcus?' I replied.
Julian sighed. 'Marcus. I will admit there have been problems. Crowd control is sometimes difficult from continents away. Men misunderstand my words and intent. I do not seek to persecute Christians, Caesarius. Only to eliminate favoritism within the civil service, and the unfair exploitation of our Greek heritage by those who do not believe in the old gods or, worse, who mock them.'
'So your goal truly is to restore paganism.'
'Yes… I mean no. Caesarius, that's not the ultimate goal, but it does happen to be a result. And it's not a bad thing, if you would only pull off your damnable Christian blinders. Still, there's no other way to meet the objective.'
'And what objective is that, precisely?' I demanded.
He assumed a bored expression. 'Caesarius, you know the situation as well as I do. You saw it under Constantius. Treachery and assassination at the highest levels, corruption rotting the very core of government, nepotism, religious strife. And why?'
'Why indeed, Julian?' I said, knowing full well what his response would be.
'Because,' he looked at me meaningfully, 'the people have neglected their ancestral religion, the very gods who brought Rome to glory in the past. Is it any wonder we've seen barbarian invasions from every side? Jackals always attack the crippled and weak, and that's what Rome had become, my friend, crippled and weak. Caesarius' — he leaned forward, seizing me by the forearm, his eyes ablaze — 'I know you don't support me on the religion side, but it's of no matter. We have the opportunity to redeem all of Rome's past errors! We have it! For the first time in decades, the Empire is capable of being great once again, of surpassing even its old glory! Undisputed control over the entire Empire is in my hands, the army is unified — Caesarius, there is nothing to stop us from restoring Rome, to making it the greatest empire ever to exist on earth, greater even than Alexander's! Nothing stands in our way, Caesarius, but lack of will!'
'Then why waste your time on religious squabbles?' I ventured. 'Why not leave the Christians in peace?'
He relaxed his grip on my arms and laughed, though with his mouth only. His eyes remained hollow and mirthless.
'"Squabbles," you call them? Caesarius, didn't we have this conversation back in Naissus? I cannot restore Rome alone. I need Rome itself, I need its will, the united will of the entire Empire. There is but one thing that prevents that will from materializing, Caesarius: neglect of the gods. And there is only one source of dissent in the Empire-'
'And that is the Christians,' I finished for him. He nodded almost regretfully and walked back around behind his table.
'Even the Persians are no obstacle,' he continued. 'They are cowering and pleading like stable slaves at the threat of Rome's might! But the Christians refuse to cooperate, to contribute to our efforts.'
I moved to change the subject. 'Julian, this Persian campaign you are planning — in Paris you denounced Constantius as mad for attempting the same thing.'
'Ah, but he was mad,' Julian said, smiling. 'He planned his campaign with only half the Empire behind him. I, as you recall, was the other half, and he knew I would not support him, yet he embarked on the venture anyway. His motivation was pure greed and ambition. Mine is the glory of Rome. Our unity is Persia's defeat! So you see, he was mad.'
'We have all been mad once,' I replied quietly.
It had taken me three weeks traveling overland from Nazianzus to catch up with the Emperor at his new base in Antioch, where he was preparing for a final reckoning with Sapor, the King of Kings, the Persian who had for so long been a thorn in the side of the Empire. From Antioch, Julian was gathering men and supplies for the most powerful military expedition Rome had undertaken in a generation. Provisions were pouring in through Antioch's nearby seaport of Seleucia and from across the desert by way of Aleppo. The supplies were intended not only for the army and the auxiliaries, but for the entire court, the administrators and the thousands of camp followers who were making of Antioch, already a great city, now one to rival even Alexandria, perhaps even Ctesiphon itself for opulence and wealth. Into Antioch's port poured the fruits and wines of Italy and the decorative tiles of Narbonensis; the wheat of Egypt and all of Africa, and the olive oil, silver, and copper of Spain; the venison, stout oaken beams, and soft, carded wool of Gaul; the marbles of Greece and Numidia and the cured hams of Baetica; the tin of Britain and the gold and amber of Dacia. From the vast caravans of ill-tempered camels flowed the dates of the oases and the porphyry and incense of Arabia; the ivory of Mauritania and the papyri of the Nile valley; glass from Syria and Phoenicia and silks from the Far East; and the gems, corals, and spices of India. And with the Emperor's arrival in Antioch, Antioch now eclipsed even Rome and Constantinople as the very center of the world.