Caesar Crispus drunk

“When I heard you telling General Dacius at the Villa of Livia about your plans to make him Augustus of Italy and the West. I rode by another way to the palace and warned the Empress. We decided to get Caesar Crispus drunk that night, so she could accuse him of trying to attack her.”

“And you forged the death warrants?”

“Empress Fausta thought of them ”

“When?”

“About a month ago one night in her quarters.” It was a slip of the tongue and the sudden stutter in Lupus’ voice betrayed his realization of it. “I I mean that I ”

The full meaning of the tutor’s words struck Constantine like a slap in the face and, unconsciously, he pushed the point of the dagger deeper into Lupus’ flesh. Only the breastbone kept it from penetrating the tutor’s heart, but the pain was enough to make him scream again.

“How long have you had free access to my wife’s quarters?” Constantine demanded.

“Sisince right after I became the children’s tutor, Dominus. She made me ”

But Constantine was no longer listening. ‘Tut him under guard until I can arrange his execution,” he ordered the guard as he turned to the door leading to Fausta’s quarters.

Only a ladyinwaiting was present in the Empress’ boudoir; at the sight of his face, and what was written there, she scurried out without waiting for an order. Fausta herself was not in the room, but the heavy miasma of scented steam coming from the adjoining bath told him where he would find her. Giving no warning, he pushed aside the hangings and stepped into the room, whose marbled walls and floor were wet and slippery from condensation of the hot vapor from the bath. Fausta, her body rosy from the heat, lay in the sunken tub, her head resting upon a pillow suspended across the tub by stout cords and her dark hair streaming out upon the surface of the water.

Constantine instinctively

“You must have talked in your sleep, then,” she said quickly. “Yes, I remember now. You did mention it in your sleep.”

“But you and I haven’t shared a bed since I came to Rome. You’ve been out to receptions and dinners every night and never get home before dawn.”

“Then one of the servants probably told me.”

“You’re lying, Fausta. Why?”

To his utter surprise, her eyes filled with tears. He’d forgotten how easily she was able to simulate weeping, so it never occurred to him that, when she threw herself into his arms, the tears were not genuine.

“It hurt me that you would make such a decision to disinherit your own children without telling your wife.” She began to sob bitterly. “And after I let my beauty be destroyed in bearing you the children you wanted. What have I done to be treated this way?”

Although still halfcertain that she was playing a dramatic scene for purposes of her own, as he’d known her to do many times before, Constantine instinctively put his arms about her and held her close. And as he did, he felt a resurgence of the old yearning, a renewal of the rapture which, in the press of the affairs of Empire, he had almost forgotten could be so precious.

It had been a long time, he thought, since they had been so close together. As she nestled against him, no longer sobbing, he felt a great tenderness well up in his heart, washing away, for the moment at least, his suspicion that she was playing a part. And in the excitement of her embrace, he quite forgot that she had not answered his question about how she had learned of his secret plan to name Crispus Augustus of the West on the last day of the Vicennalia.

Crispus Constantine

With no deputy upon whom he could depend now as he had planned to depend upon Crispus Constantine was forced to remain in Rome for several months to straighten out affairs there. One of these concerned the construction of several new churches, which he had ordered and for which he had provided the funds. Another was a series of conferences with the governors of the two western prefectures and the several provinces, in order to assure himself that the men were capable and worthy enough for him to share some of the authority of his office with them.

Lifting the body of Fausta

Any court in the Empire, Constantine knew, would condemn her to death instantly upon the evidence he himself had gained, but he could see no point in letting the children know that he had taken upon himself however unconsciously in a fit of anger the execution of their mother. He therefore shouted for help and when the guard and the ladyinwaiting came hurrying into the room, they found him standing in the marbledlined bath, lifting the body of Fausta from it.

“Your mistress drowned when the cord holding her pillow broke,” he told the ladyinwaiting. “The potion the physician gave her must have been strong enough to render her unconscious.”

He felt a moment of anger when he placed Fausta’s body upon the bed in the adjoining boudoir and thought how often Lupus must have shared it. But he could punish Fausta no more than she had been punished already, and Lupus too would die before the day was over, so the matter was closed.

The official view of Fausta’s death would be the one he had given the ladyin waiting and the guard, but he knew the city would be abuzz with rumors before two hours had passed. Nor did he make any move to stop them, if indeed he could have done so. Instead he ordered the body of his dead wife prepared for burial and went to break the news to his children.

Dacius was given a quiet military funeral the following day and Fausta the honor, pomp and ceremony of an imperial funeral on the day after that. No honors were given Lupus, felled by the headsman’s axe on the order of the quaestor after a rapid trial, and Constantine moved forthrightly to write an end to the whole affair in a private audience with Rubellius the same day.

“I want all official records connected with the death of the Empress removed from the archives,” he told the chief legal officer of the Empire. “Some day my children might read them and it would only bring them pain to know what really happened.”

Incessant hurry that characterized Rome

Though busy and prosperous, Byzantium had been spared the incessant hurry that characterized Rome, whose citizens went from one form of entertainment to another, seeking satisfaction for jaded tastes. In fact, it almost seemed a desecration to turn Byzantium into a great city which must inevitably take on some of the less pleasant attributes of the western capital, but Constantine did not let himself be swayed by any question of sentiment from his decision to build here a new heart for the Roman Empire.

What Rome lacked, Byzantium already possessed, a strategic position, with the opposite shores of Europe and Asia in full sight, and excellent harbors, both upon the Pontus Euxinus and in the creek forming one side of the peninsula. Easy of access, the city could be defended strongly in case of attack, as Constantine already knew from his own siege, which had ended only when the inhabitants had realized that Licinius was defeated.

Hellespont where Crispus

From this elevated and highly defendable position he could protect the districts of the East, under almost constant attack lately either by the Persians to the south or the Goths to the north, much better than he had ever been able to before. The new city could also act as a barrier to invasion of the fertile area of Asia south of the waterway by the Sarmatians, the warlike tribe dwelling north of the Euxine Sea. And with the Hellespont where Crispus had won his great victory over Licinius’ fleet in Constantine’s hands and both the Sea of Marmara and its eastern mouth, the Bosporus, under his control, the most important waterway in that part of the world was now his personal lake, through which ships could ply in the vast trade that had kept Byzantium prosperous for more than five hundred years.

From the East would come gems, spices, fine cloth and other articles of trade, while from the West flowed products manufactured by the skilled artisans of Greece, Italy and even faroff Gaul, all serving to make the tradesmen prosperous and enrich the coffers of the Empire through taxes imposed upon articles passing through the port. Satisfied now that what he could bring to Byzantium outweighed anything he would take away from it, Constantine started down the slope toward where the surveyors waited patiently upon the shore below.

Caesar Crispus and Caesar Licinianus

“It shall be done, Dominus,” the quaestor said, then dared to add: “But those who hate you will say you ordered the execution of Caesar Crispus and Caesar Licinianus because they stood in the way of your own desire to be sole ruler of the Empire.”

“I am sole ruler,” Constantine said. “Let future generations judge me on what I have been able to accomplish, not on what crimes men may accuse me of committing.” He rose to his feet. “Have my galley made ready, Rubellius. We are returning to Nicomedia at once.”

The sun was shining as brightly on the peninsula of Byzan tium as it had when Constantine stood there with Dacius less than a year ago and talked of his plans for Nova Roma, but there was no gladness in the heart of the world’s greatest ruler today. Rather, his shoulders were bent, as they had been since that terrible day in Rome, when Dacius had appeared with the news of Crispus’ death and the forged warrant which had condemned its author, Lupus.

The burden of mourning for his brilliant son and his old friend had been almost more than Constantine could bear. To it, in time, had been added a certain amount of sorrow over Fausta, for he could not look upon the delicate beauty of his three daughters without seeing once again the girl with whom he had fallen in love long ago, when she was barely as old as the eldest of his daughters was now. And remembering the brief period of rapture they’d shared before the cares of state had begun to erect a barrier between them, he asked himself whether, had he been less concerned with ambition and less eager to enlarge the territory under his rule, they might somehow not have drifted apart.

Seven hills of Byzantium

“What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” Dacius had once quoted to him from the words of Christ. As he stood upon one of the seven hills of Byzantium, where he’d already decided that his new great city of Nova Roma would be built, Constantine asked himself the question again, but found no answer to it, or to the black malaise which had seized his spirit that terrible day in Rome and had held it in its grip ever since.

Fath Dominus

Crispus’ eyes met his and at the shame and agony showing in them, the last vestige of Constantine’s anger melted away. He found himself wondering what would have happened, had he been forced to live in his father’s shadow during the years following his escape from Nicomedia. And remembering his own ambitions and his impatience toward anything that blocked his climb to high position and responsibility, he could feel only sympathy now for his son.

“The noble Rubellius has stated the truth,” Crispus said. “I did listen at first, especially when they spoke of the bishops controlling the Empire.”

“I am equally responsible there,” Dacius interrupted. “Crispus knows my views about the meddling of the bishops. I have spoken of them often in his presence.”

“But you did not conspire to overthrow your Emperor,” Constantine reminded him.

“By the time I realized what the plan would really mean, what you call the conspiracy was already in progress,” Crispus admitted.

“Do you give it a better name?” Constantine asked.

“No, Fath Dominus. I have not denied my guilt.”

“Nor offered a defense?”

“No, Dominus.”

Constantine turned to Rubellius. “Who gave you this information?”

“Most of it came from Caesar Crispus himself. He has withheld nothing, except the names of those who conspired with him.” Constantine fought back a sudden surge of anger. “Why?” he demanded. “Why are you protecting traitors?”

“The conspiracy would have gone no further than idle talk if I had not listened and been tempted by the dream of power,” Crispus said. “But I did listen, which makes me responsible for everything.” “And Licinianus?”

“He is only a boy, with no real idea of what was involved.” “Except that he wished to assume power in his father’s former domain if the regents appointed by the Senate didn’t murder him and keep the power for themselves. Do you see now what a fool unscrupulous men can make of an honest man with ambition, Crispus?”

Caesar Crispus drunk

“When I heard you telling General Dacius at the Villa of Livia about your plans to make him Augustus of Italy and the West. I rode by another way to the palace and warned the Empress. We decided to get Caesar Crispus drunk that night, so she could accuse him of trying to attack her.”

“And you forged the death warrants?”

“Empress Fausta thought of them ”

“When?”

“About a month ago one night in her quarters.” It was a slip of the tongue and the sudden stutter in Lupus’ voice betrayed his realization of it. “I I mean that I ”

The full meaning of the tutor’s words struck Constantine like a slap in the face and, unconsciously, he pushed the point of the dagger deeper into Lupus’ flesh. Only the breastbone kept it from penetrating the tutor’s heart, but the pain was enough to make him scream again.

“How long have you had free access to my wife’s quarters?” Constantine demanded.

“Sisince right after I became the children’s tutor, Dominus. She made me ”

But Constantine was no longer listening. ‘Tut him under guard until I can arrange his execution,” he ordered the guard as he turned to the door leading to Fausta’s quarters.

Only a ladyinwaiting was present in the Empress’ boudoir; at the sight of his face, and what was written there, she scurried out without waiting for an order. Fausta herself was not in the room, but the heavy miasma of scented steam coming from the adjoining bath told him where he would find her. Giving no warning, he pushed aside the hangings and stepped into the room, whose marbled walls and floor were wet and slippery from condensation of the hot vapor from the bath. Fausta, her body rosy from the heat, lay in the sunken tub, her head resting upon a pillow suspended across the tub by stout cords and her dark hair streaming out upon the surface of the water.

Constantine instinctively

“You must have talked in your sleep, then,” she said quickly. “Yes, I remember now. You did mention it in your sleep.”

“But you and I haven’t shared a bed since I came to Rome. You’ve been out to receptions and dinners every night and never get home before dawn.”

“Then one of the servants probably told me.”

“You’re lying, Fausta. Why?”

To his utter surprise, her eyes filled with tears. He’d forgotten how easily she was able to simulate weeping, so it never occurred to him that, when she threw herself into his arms, the tears were not genuine.

“It hurt me that you would make such a decision to disinherit your own children without telling your wife.” She began to sob bitterly. “And after I let my beauty be destroyed in bearing you the children you wanted. What have I done to be treated this way?”

Although still halfcertain that she was playing a dramatic scene for purposes of her own, as he’d known her to do many times before, Constantine instinctively put his arms about her and held her close. And as he did, he felt a resurgence of the old yearning, a renewal of the rapture which, in the press of the affairs of Empire, he had almost forgotten could be so precious.

It had been a long time, he thought, since they had been so close together. As she nestled against him, no longer sobbing, he felt a great tenderness well up in his heart, washing away, for the moment at least, his suspicion that she was playing a part. And in the excitement of her embrace, he quite forgot that she had not answered his question about how she had learned of his secret plan to name Crispus Augustus of the West on the last day of the Vicennalia.

Crispus Constantine

With no deputy upon whom he could depend now as he had planned to depend upon Crispus Constantine was forced to remain in Rome for several months to straighten out affairs there. One of these concerned the construction of several new churches, which he had ordered and for which he had provided the funds. Another was a series of conferences with the governors of the two western prefectures and the several provinces, in order to assure himself that the men were capable and worthy enough for him to share some of the authority of his office with them.

Lifting the body of Fausta

Any court in the Empire, Constantine knew, would condemn her to death instantly upon the evidence he himself had gained, but he could see no point in letting the children know that he had taken upon himself however unconsciously in a fit of anger the execution of their mother. He therefore shouted for help and when the guard and the ladyinwaiting came hurrying into the room, they found him standing in the marbledlined bath, lifting the body of Fausta from it.

“Your mistress drowned when the cord holding her pillow broke,” he told the ladyinwaiting. “The potion the physician gave her must have been strong enough to render her unconscious.”

He felt a moment of anger when he placed Fausta’s body upon the bed in the adjoining boudoir and thought how often Lupus must have shared it. But he could punish Fausta no more than she had been punished already, and Lupus too would die before the day was over, so the matter was closed.

The official view of Fausta’s death would be the one he had given the ladyin waiting and the guard, but he knew the city would be abuzz with rumors before two hours had passed. Nor did he make any move to stop them, if indeed he could have done so. Instead he ordered the body of his dead wife prepared for burial and went to break the news to his children.

Dacius was given a quiet military funeral the following day and Fausta the honor, pomp and ceremony of an imperial funeral on the day after that. No honors were given Lupus, felled by the headsman’s axe on the order of the quaestor after a rapid trial, and Constantine moved forthrightly to write an end to the whole affair in a private audience with Rubellius the same day.

“I want all official records connected with the death of the Empress removed from the archives,” he told the chief legal officer of the Empire. “Some day my children might read them and it would only bring them pain to know what really happened.”

Caesar Crispus drunk

“When I heard you telling General Dacius at the Villa of Livia about your plans to make him Augustus of Italy and the West. I rode by another way to the palace and warned the Empress. We decided to get Caesar Crispus drunk that night, so she could accuse him of trying to attack her.”

“And you forged the death warrants?”

“Empress Fausta thought of them ”

“When?”

“About a month ago one night in her quarters.” It was a slip of the tongue and the sudden stutter in Lupus’ voice betrayed his realization of it. “I I mean that I ”

The full meaning of the tutor’s words struck Constantine like a slap in the face and, unconsciously, he pushed the point of the dagger deeper into Lupus’ flesh. Only the breastbone kept it from penetrating the tutor’s heart, but the pain was enough to make him scream again.

“How long have you had free access to my wife’s quarters?” Constantine demanded.

“Sisince right after I became the children’s tutor, Dominus. She made me ”

But Constantine was no longer listening. ‘Tut him under guard until I can arrange his execution,” he ordered the guard as he turned to the door leading to Fausta’s quarters.

Only a ladyinwaiting was present in the Empress’ boudoir; at the sight of his face, and what was written there, she scurried out without waiting for an order. Fausta herself was not in the room, but the heavy miasma of scented steam coming from the adjoining bath told him where he would find her. Giving no warning, he pushed aside the hangings and stepped into the room, whose marbled walls and floor were wet and slippery from condensation of the hot vapor from the bath. Fausta, her body rosy from the heat, lay in the sunken tub, her head resting upon a pillow suspended across the tub by stout cords and her dark hair streaming out upon the surface of the water.