Gaius nodded. He had heard enough about Father Petros’s preaching from Julia to be aware of the Christian fascination with martyrdom, and of their sectarian strife, though Julia referred to it as purging the Church of the ungodly. But in the larger scheme of things the Christians were a minor problem. Far more serious was the megalomania of the Emperor.
“Is he going the way of Nero, or Caligula?” he asked.
“He hasn’t tried to deify his horse yet, if that’s what you mean,” his father replied. “In many ways he has been a very effective Emperor; that’s why he’s so dangerous. What will Rome have to fall back on when the next crazy Emperor comes along if Domitian is allowed to destroy what remains of the senatorial class?”
Gaius looked at his father carefully. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter so much about me,” said Macellius, turning his equestrian ring back and forth on his hand. “But most of your career is still ahead of you. With this Emperor, what chance is there for you?”
“Father…something’s going on, isn’t it? What have they asked you to do?”
Macellius sighed and looked around the room with its painted walls and racks of scrolls as if he were afraid it might be about to vanish. “There is a…plan…” he said carefully, “to end the Flavian dynasty. When Domitian has been dealt with, the senators will elect a new Emperor. For the plan to work, the Provinces must support it. The new Governor is Domitian’s man, but most of the legionary Legates are from the same kinds of families as Brutus—”
“And so they want us to support them,” Gaius said baldly. “What do they imagine the tribes will be doing while we are engaged in this Imperial housecleaning?”
“If we promise them some concessions, they will support us…Queen Brigitta’s daughters will be coming to us soon, and Valerius is helping me to find appropriate foster parents to raise them. Romans and Britons are bound to become allies in the end. This way it may come a little sooner, that is all.”
Gaius whistled soundlessly. This was sedition on a grand scale! He gulped down the last of his wine. When he looked up again, his father was watching him.
“Stranger things have happened,” Macellius said quietly. “Depending on how things go, there might be quite an interesting future for a Roman of the Silure royal line!”
Gaius rode home with his head reeling from more than the mulled wine. He had humored Julia long enough. It was now perfectly clear to him that he must adopt his son by Eilan formally. But when he arrived home, he found Julia could speak of nothing but her latest visit to the hermit, Father Petros.
“And he says that it is certain from Holy Writ—and from all the other prophecies—that the world will end with the passing away of this generation,” she told him, her eyes glowing. “With the coming of every dawn we should think that it may not be the sun, but the world beginning to burn. And then we shall be reunited with our loved ones. Did you know that?”
He shook his head, amazed that she, who had received a good Roman education, could believe such stuff. But then, women were credulous, which was probably why they could not serve in public office. He wondered if the Christians were trading on the current anxieties about the Emperor.
“Are you going to become a follower of the Nazarene—that prophet of slaves and renegade Jews?” he asked sharply.
“I do not see how any thinking person can possibly do anything else,” Julia replied coolly.
Well, Gaius thought, I am obviously not a thinking person—at least not of her kind. He only said, “And what will Licinius say?”
“He will not like it,” Julia said sadly. “But this is the only thing I have been sure of since…since the children died.” Her eyes filled with tears.