Nerva asked after the prisoner’s health; Apollonius responded by asking after the senator’s health, since Nerva looked considerably more frail than he did. From their easy manner with each other, Lucius realized that the two were old acquaintances. Lucius never ceased to be surprised at the great number and variety of people Apollonius knew. To know Apollonius, it seemed, was to be only a step or two removed from almost anyone in the world.
Nerva and Apollonius conversed about inconsequential matters – prison food, the weather, and which of them had whiter hair. Apollonius asked Nerva about his hometown, the village of Narnia, which was said to be in the exact center of Italy and was one of the few places Apollonius had never visited; Nerva assured him that it was a charming town. It seemed to Lucius that Apollonius must have given Nerva a sign early on that an informer was present, and that their conversation should be guarded. Or were they conversing in code?
After the visitors left, Lucius expressed surprise that Nerva and the others had dared to pay a call on Apollonius. Domitian was always seeing conspiracies among the senators. Did these men not risk arousing the emperor’s suspicion by visiting a man arrested for disrespecting the emperor’s majesty?
“Not so,” said Apollonius. “By coming to see me so openly, those fellows protect themselves from suspicion. If I were indeed seditious, and if they were colluding with me, would they come to chat with me about the weather? They came here as Roman statesmen, to pay a courtesy call on a man who once counselled the Divine Vespasian and the Divine Titus. Conspirators would not come to see me at all, but would lurk in the shadows. Thus, by their boldness they disarm Domitian’s fear.”
“I see. Nerva didn’t look that clever to me.”
“Don’t let his manner fool you. Nerva is a very canny fellow. I have high hopes for him.”
“High hopes for a frail old senator?”
“To all appearances, there was never a more robust man than Titus, yet those who put their hopes for the future in Titus saw those hopes dashed. So why not look to a frail old man to deliver a brighter tomorrow?”
One day passed into another, until one morning a Praetorian arrived and told them they were to be taken before the emperor, who was ready to try them and pronounce judgement.
Lucius had done his best to prepare for this moment, striving to emulate the Teacher’s equanimity. Still, he felt a thrill of panic.
“Teacher, what will become of us?”
“Lucius, what do you fear? That we shall be tortured and killed? Every living thing must die, and there are things far worse than the suffering of physical pain. How much more terrible if we should comport ourselves disgracefully and lose our self-respect; then we should truly be damaged, and the harm would have been inflicted by ourselves.”
Lucius breathed deeply. “I shall look to you, Teacher. I shall follow your example.”
“And I shall do my best to make that example a good one, Lucius. To know that your eyes are on me will give me strength.”
They were taken first to an antechamber adjoining the reception room. Their shackles were removed. A group of slaves appeared, charged with making them presentable for the trial. Basins of water were brought. Their faces and hands were scrubbed clean. They were dressed in clean tunics. They were also given shoes, but because these were made of leather, Apollonius would not wear them. Lucius followed the Teacher’s example and remained barefoot.
When the attendants were finished cleaning and dressing them, they were put in shackles again.
A figure in the sumptuous robes of an imperial courtier entered the room and approached them. To Lucius’s surprise, it was his old friend and protector Epaphroditus. Lucius had seen him very little since the death of Cornelia. His old friend had aged a great deal.
“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.