Historia Alium - Chapter 2

A New Start 

1491 AUC 

Aquilia was on the deck, staring out to sea. It had been two months since they left Olisipo in Lusitania. Maybe her eagerness to reach her destination was playing with her imagination, but it certainly looked as though the colour of the sea was becoming lighter. About fifty years ago, a man by the name of Maglorius from Britannia heard rumours from travelling Norsemen that there were mysterious lands to north-west. Maglorius was rich, approaching old age, and eccentric, so he decided to hire the services of a ship. They set sail, and after several weeks they came to a land of seemingly unending snow and ice inhabited by fishermen. Maglorius was not satisfied, and ordered them to continue sailing west. Eventually they came to a much more fertile land, landing not far from the modern city of Nova Londinium. When he returned home, his stories inspired explorers from across the Empire to sail west. It soon became apparent that Maglorius had discovered a vast continent, which became known as Maglorania.

Nova Ostia, Aquilia’s destination, was to the south of the southern tip of Maglorania, on an island the natives called Aiti. She was on a merchant ship, which was carrying a hundred amphora of wine, enormous chests full of olives and even some pigs. After it had restocked its supplies at Nova Ostia, it was carrying on westward to Maiab, the land of the Maia, the closest thing to a civilised people that the Romans had found in the transatlantic world. The ship would then return to Europe, probably carrying gold and the exotic beans used to make the bitter drink chokolatl.  

“Land! Land!” she heard one of the sailors shout

She and half the crew ran to the bow of the ship. Sure enough, a slither of green had appeared between the sea and the sky. The ship positively bubbled with excitement and relief for a few minutes before the captain started ordering the necessary preparations for arrival. Aquilia however remained at the bow and watched the island draw closer. It looked exactly how she had dreamt it – paradise. She was looking for a refuge from the terror and chaos that had consumed Europe. The Mercenary Wars had gone on for ten long years. The seeds had been sowed centuries ago, when Romans began hiring German mercenaries to guard the Empire’s borders. This policy had always caused trouble, but in 1481 AUC every mercenary captain declared that they were going to raise their prices. When the Emperor refused to pay, they started carving out their own kingdoms.

This happened not long after Aquilia left her home in Illyria to go to Athens to study. Even though Athens was far from the edge of the Empire, there was turmoil there too. The mercenaries’ betrayal was seen by anti-Roman factions across the Empire as an invitation to rebel. Aquilia ended up living on an estate just outside Athens called ‘The New Garden’, where a community of the followers of the philosopher Epicurus lived. Life was peaceful there, but too often at night they could hear rioting in the city and see the light of the fires. Six months ago, a Roman army arrived. Hundreds were executed. That’s when Aquilia decided to cross the Atlantic.

By now the Romans had regained control of almost everything they had lost, but there were several times over the past decade when it looked as though the Empire was finished. If Christianity had gained more of a foothold, thought Aquilia, the Empire may well have collapsed. Christianity was simply Stoicism with some myths thrown in so that the masses could understand, and Stoicism was a completely unjustified masochistic denial of the world. By playing on people’s irrational desire for immortality and shifting focus onto a non-existent afterlife, Christianity had been making the citizenry less concerned about the safety of the Empire. “Jupiter controls everything, what will be will be”, they said.

But Aquilia was ashamed to admit to herself that her fellow Epicureans weren’t much better. When she told them that she was leaving, they said that she shouldn’t get involved in affairs outside the Garden and just enjoy the peace it provided; that she shouldn’t feel bad for the people who died, because death is merely the absence of experience; and even that her desire to do something betrayed a deep insecurity and a failure to understand Epicurus’ teachings.

Aquilia had mixed feelings about the end of the Wars. The chaos was coming to an end, and Rome would learn its lesson: don’t rely on mercenaries, rely on the loyalty of grounded citizens. People could look forward to a period of stability. But they would still pursue empty desires and it would only be a matter of time before their fear of their own vulnerability would lead to more chaos. Things couldn’t continue like this, it was time for change. And if change was going to begin anywhere, it was in Transatlantia.

After sailing parallel to lush jungle for a couple of hours, they finally sighted Nova Ostia. At the far end of a wide bay, guarding the mouth of a river and some busy-looking docks, were the city walls. The white-washed buildings shimmered in the sun. It was perfect.

A few minutes after the ship had docked, Aquilia walked down the board and onto shore. Crates of food were already being assembled on the dock, ready to be stowed on board. The captain was talking to a man who looked like an official. When he spotted Aquilia, he bade farewell to the captain and walked over.

“Are you Aquilia Severa?” he asked, checking a roll of parchment

“I am”

“Do you suffer from any disease? Were you ill at all during your voyage?”

“No, I am in good health”

“Please remember that by law you must visit the baths at least once a day, and make a sacrifice at the temple of Aesculapius at least once a week. These two will carry your luggage to your accommodation”

He motioned to two slaves standing to attention behind him.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Aquilia, “I have all I need in here”

She motioned to the small cloth bag she was carrying.

“Oh of course, a philosopher,” said the official, rolling his eyes, “all the others live in Katerina’s Lodge. It’s on the other side of town. Welcome to Nova Ostia”

He walked away to supervise the dockworkers, leaving Aquilia to blankly stare at the city in front of her. Without any real directions, she started walking towards the centre. She saw a young man sitting on a box near the shore eating an apple. He was wearing a purple tunic, had a gold necklace around his neck and was looking right at her with a smile. She ignored him.

She noticed some African mercenaries standing around. They looked like your average Roman legionaries, except that their shields had the image of a winged horse around the boss. Aquilia knew they were mercenaries because the Empire didn’t exist in Transatlantia, partly because it wasn’t strong enough and partly because it was much more interested in the riches of Mesopotamia and Persia. All the transatlantic colonies were built by businessmen who wanted to profit from trade with the natives. The winged horse was the emblem of the Scaeva family, who owned and ran Nova Ostia. Evidently they wanted the place to feel more Roman by dressing up the mercenaries.

She walked down an alleyway between two warehouses, then turned left, then turned right. She quickly realised she’d walked into a labyrinth, but she was still determined to reach the other side of town.

“Excuse me!”

Aquilia turned around and saw the young man walking briskly towards her.

“Do you need some directions?” he asked

“Yes, I do”

“You’re going to Katerina’s Lodge, aren’t you? I’ll take you there,” they started walking, “my name is Quintus Cassius Scaeva, by the way”

“You’re not by any chance related to...”

“Appius Cassius Scaeva, Altus Eques of Nova Ostia, yep he’s my father”

Before long they left the warehouses and came to a forum. It was busy with people, some selling their wares, some standing around chatting with friends. At one end was a temple, and at the other a rather grand mansion.

“Is that your home?” asked Aquilia

“Certainly is”, said Quintus with some smugness

Aquilia was not impressed, but smiled politely. They walked through what must have been a very poor quarter, with tall buildings seemingly crammed with people. The buildings must have been relatively new, but they were so uncared for they looked ancient. The smell of excrement hung in the air.

“Is your father doing anything to make these people’s lives any better?”

“They’ve got everything they need”

“I’m not sure they do. They look pretty miserable”

“We import plenty of wine. Wait til tonight, they’ll be as happy as can be!”

Aquilia was ready to give a long and passionate lecture on how irrational that mindset was, but she simply took a deep breath. They entered a greener neighbourhood, not far from the river.

“Well, we’re here”, said Quintus, gesturing to an unassuming doorway in a wall covered in vines

“Thank you for your help”, said Aquilia, turning to the door

“My father’s having a big party tomorrow night. Everyone worth knowing in the city will be there. Even the chief of the natives. I’m sure I could pull a few strings and let you come too”

Aquilia’s felt sick thinking of the prospect of spending a night surrounded by pompous fools, and in the company of this unenlightened brat. But her reason quickly pointed out that this would be an excellent opportunity to spread some influence – the very reason she was here – and that she was very lucky to be given this opportunity as soon as she had arrived.

“Sure,” she said, “that sounds fun”

“Splendid! I’ll meet you outside the palace at sunset”

And with that, he ran off grinning. Aquilia entered the Lodge. There was a perfectly square garden in the centre, which was surrounded by cloisters - clearly modeled on a Christian monastery.

“Can I help you?” asked a tiny old woman with a broom in hand

“I’ve just arrived in the city. I’m looking for accommodation”

“Ah, welcome, welcome. Follow me, I’ll show you your room. I’m Katerina. You’re not a Christian by any chance?”

“No”

“Bah, we need more of them in this God-forsaken city,” said the old woman, “What are you then?”

“Epicurean”

“Oh really? You’re the first that’s come here. We’ve got a few Stoics, but never an Epicurean before”

The room was completely bare except for a rickety bed and a stool. Aquilia leant out of the window – it faced a brick wall, but down the alleyway she could hear the gentle hiss of the river.

“The toilet’s at the end,” said Katerina, pointing with her broom, “and dinner will be in a few hours. Welcome to Nova Ostia”

Aquilia sat on her bed and sighed, exhausted and glad her journey had been completed. But she knew the work had only just begun.

***

When she heard a gong sound as the sun started to set, Aquilia set off to find the dining room. Sure enough, near the entrance was a large room with a long wooden table lit with candles. There were no mosaics – barely any colour at all. She was delighted to see that dinner was vegetable soup and bread. Anything more extravagant would not sit well with her stomach.

“Ah, you must be the Epicurean,” said a rat-faced woman, “I’m afraid we don’t have any wine, so we won’t be drinking ourselves into oblivion tonight”

“Livilla, don’t be rude,” said a heavily-built man sitting at the head of the table, “my name is Paetus. Welcome, please join us”

Aquilia introduced herself and sat down opposite Livilla.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make any jokes,” she said, “we wouldn’t want to spoil the evening with laughter”

Livilla glared at her, “How is ‘pleasure is a good thing’ a philosophy? How can you ignore duty and virtue and-“

“When we say pleasure, we mean ataraxia, inner peace,” said Aquilia, “we want to free people from the constant cycle of desire and frustration. Happiness is easy to achieve, we just need to focus on our basic needs – food, water, shelter, companionship. Anything more and we get drawn into worldviews that make us unhappy. It’s better to lie upon a bed of straw and be free of fear, than to have a golden couch, yet be troubled in mind”

“Yes that’s the way to live. If only people recognised the virtue of austerity, being satisfied with what they have” said Livilla, “But forgetting your responsibilities and running away to a country villa is not the way to do it. Epicurus was completely selfish, and subversive to the State. He had no appreciation of the order of the world”

“Yes, we’re subversive, but aren’t you too?”

“We certainly are not!” spluttered Livilla, “Stoics are honour-bound to serve the State”

“Are you telling me that you crossed the ocean just for some peace and quiet? No dreams of creating a society grounded in philosophy?”

“That is why we came”, said Paetus

“And what have you done?”

“We write letters to the Altus Eques,” said Paetus, “occasionally”

“Have you ever met him?”

“No”, said Paetus, looking down at his soup

“Well tomorrow night I will at least do that.” said Aquilia, “Chaos blankets the world, and it’s because almost every human being ignores wisdom so he can have a few more denarii in his pocket. The world needs us to make Nova Ostia an outpost of wisdom, an example for every other society to follow. But we can only do it together”

***

The next day Aquilia went to the public baths in accordance with the law, then bought a bird (one with green wings, a red belly and a yellow crest, called a Quetzal according to the merchant) at the market to sacrifice at the temple of Aesculapius. She hadn’t even visited a temple since she was a child, let alone sacrifice anything, but luckily there was a stream of people to follow. The priest simply took the bird and assured her of the god’s blessing. Epicurus taught that if perfect beings did exist, then they wouldn’t concern themselves with earthly matters. Showering mortals with miracles and curses would betray fundamental spiritual insecurity. But Aquilia played along. There were rumours that Romans were particularly susceptible to transatlantic diseases, and the natives to diseases from the Roman world. And everyone had heard tales how the Empire had nearly fallen amid the death and chaos of the Plague of Justinian two centuries ago. People had to take every precaution to avoid an outbreak, not least because it would damage trade and the chances of becoming filthy rich.

As the sun went down behind the city walls, Aquilia waited in the forum, watching droves of workers dragging their feet back home.

“Good evening!” Quintus appeared next to her, “Don’t worry, if you run back to the Lodge to change, you probably won’t miss dinner”

“I don’t have any other clothes”

“You should have said! I would have bought you something”

“I did wash this today, if it makes you feel any better. Shall we go in?”

They walked past the on-duty mercenaries and up the stairs to the atrium. On either side of the stairs were high walls, with tellingly fort-like battlements at the top. Unsurprisingly, as they entered the banquet, it was obvious that Aquilia was the most underdressed person in the room. Quintus was very pleased with himself to be there with a beautiful young woman, but nevertheless whenever he introduced her to one of the guests he seemed obligated to almost immediately explain “she’s a philosopher, you know”. This was usually met with “Oh how noble” or more patronisingly “I wish I could let go of my worries as easily as you”. She tried to start discussions on the importance of ethical education, but the conversation would always degenerate into complaints about incompetent slaves or the strange practices of the Maia. One man, who claimed to have a monopoly on the brothels of Nova Ostia, when asked by Aquilia whether he thought the citizens of the colony could benefit from lessons on how to live a fulfilling life, simply scoffed and said, “No, we’re all cocksuckers here”.

A well-dressed freedman announced that dinner was served, and everyone was shepherded towards the trinclinium. Quintus grabbed her arm and led her to the far end of the large, fabulously decorated room. Each wall had a fresco of a sumptuous feast or of athletic young men hunting wild animals. At the end was an image of Bacchus with an overflowing wine cup and a self-indulgent smile. They approached a bald man wearing a toga with red and purple stripes.

“Ah, is this your philosopher, Quintus?”

“Aquilia Severa. Pleased to meet you, Altus Eques”

“Did you study in Athens?”

“Yes sir”

“Excellent, the more civilised people in this city the better. Let’s eat”

Scaeva lay down on the couch at the head of the room, with Quintus on one side and on the other a plump woman Scaeva introduced as his wife. Quintus invited Aquilia to take the couch next to him, to share with a half-naked man and a woman whose dress was a veritable tapestry. Both of them had colourful necklaces, face paint and feather-crowns. Scaeva introduced them as Chief Guababo and his wife Anacaona. Aquilia suppressed a snigger as they awkwardly clambered onto the couch and didn’t seem to know where to put their arms. They were also visibly uncomfortable about being so close to a stranger.

Slaves entered the triclinium bearing enormous trays of food and placing them on the tables in front of them and the half-dozen other couches: pyramids of figs, enormous bowls of olives and even a whole pig. Some grapes were plenty for Aquilia, and when a slave offered her some wine she declined.

“Are you sure?” asked Scaeva, “It’s imported from Campania”

“Father, her philoso-“

“I’m pretty sure Socrates was a drunkard” said Scaeva

“Have you ever been interested in philosophy?” asked Aquilia

“Never, but I’m sure you do vital work”

“Only the understanding and betterment of humanity”

“Even barbarians?” asked Chief Guababo

“Of course,” said Aquilia, a little taken aback, “especially barbarians. Barbarians of all races, including Roman”

“Yes, it’s a shame how many uncouth Romans there are. I hear some even drink beer” said Scaeva’s wife before taking a big gulp from her wine cup

“Not many Romans come to our yucayeque, er, our town,” said the Chief in slow and cautious Latin, “they think we will give them disease or have them for dinner! If you want to understand humanity, you might want to understand us, our ... way of life. You would be welcome”

“Thank you, I might take you up on that”

“Just follow the river, you will see us”

“That’s fine,” said Scaeva, “just make sure you sacrifice something big when you get back”

The conversation moved onto the building works planned for Nova Ostia. In particular Scaeva was focused on expanding and refurnishing the temple to Aesculapius. The Altus Eques seemed concerned by the influx of Christians (“Untrustworthy lot, even the ones that worship Jupiter. Not true Romans at all”), but was sure that a magnificent pagan temple would keep them quiet.

“What about using that money to improve the living conditions of the workers?” suggested Aquilia, “Wouldn’t that be a better way to ensure their loyalty to you?”

“Perhaps for a while, until they wanted something else,” said Scaeva, “they’ve got everything they need”

The potentate had drunk fair amount of wine, and Aquilia saw her opportunity.

“Altus Eques, this city is wealthy enough to feed and offer satisfactory housing to each and every resident. What if the workers only worked a few hours a day, or a few days a week, but were paid the same? So many merchant ships come through, I’m sure that’s affordable, and everyone could spend so much more time with their friends and family. Nova Ostia is a unique opportunity to create a truly happy, harmonious society, to avoid the mistakes of the past, and to redress the spiritua-“

“Let me stop you there,” said Scaeva gruffly, “I grew up in Rome, you know. My father died when I was twenty, and he left me two hundred and fifty million sesterces. Bubulcus had just returned from the mysterious land of the Maia with tales of majestic pyramids and magical plants. It didn’t take a genius to know that we’d be trading with these people before long, so I rounded up a few ships and some desperate souls, we set sail and we settled on the first island we came across. At first it was just a camp, but after a few years we built a fort. We survived an outbreak of plague and several raids by a tribe from the other side of the island. It was a while before we had a functioning port, and we only finished the city walls two years ago. Hard work built this city. If people don’t work hard, they don’t get anywhere. The people out there know that, and if they knuckle down and don’t complain, maybe one day they’ll all be as rich as me. I deserve everything I have, and some wide-eyed little girl from Athens isn’t going to persuade me otherwise”

The silence that followed was only punctuated by some laughter from across the room. Eventually the two wives started complimenting each other’s attires, but Aquilia wasn’t listening. She wasn’t wholly surprised by the night’s failure, and was already thinking about her next move.

***

The next morning Aquilia kicked on Paetus and Livilla’s doors, and asked them to join her in the cloister. She had laid out several large rolls of parchment on the grass, and had also bought some ink and some brushes. She explained that she needed help thinking of slogans.

“For what?” asked Livilla

“For the people, to rile them up” said Aquilia, “come on, sit down”

“Why would we want to rile up the people?”

Aquilia sighed, “Scaeva isn’t going to be convinced. Frankly it’d be a miracle if we convinced him to read some philosophy. But if we can persuade the plebeians that Nova Ostia could be a fair and happy place, maybe they can persuade Scaeva”

“We shouldn’t be setting out to make people angry, Aquilia”, said Paetus

“They’re just posters. Think of it as letting people know that there is an alternative to the lives they’re living now. Come on you little lambs, help me out”

They spent the morning coming up with slogans: ‘Better Housing Now’, ‘Our Happiness First’, ‘We Don’t Need Your Money, We Need A Better Life’. That afternoon, after they had bought some plaster, they walked around the city fixing their posters to walls, from the warehouses to the tower blocks to the granaries. That night Aquilia went to bed satisfied that the first promising steps had been taken, and eager to know how Nova Ostia would react.

Aquilia was getting dressed the next morning when there was a kick at her door. It was Katerina.

“You should come to the atrium”

Waiting for her by the entrance of the Lodge was Quintus, flanked by two mercenaries.

“Putting up notices in public spaces is prohibited in Nova Ostia, except by the express permission of the Altus Eques”, said young man coldly

One of the mercenaries handed her a large sack. Inside were the posters, all torn in half. Aquilia looked in Quintus’ eyes, but he averted his gaze. His face was red, like an embarrassed teenager. But there was a plaintive look in his eyes, as though he pitied her.

“Please stop what you’re doing Aquilia, you can’t win”

She felt sick to her stomach, sick of society. She should never have left the Garden, she wanted to go back. Suddenly the sickness transmuted into anger. She threw down the sack and ran into the dining hall. She picked up the sturdiest-looking stool, marched out of the Lodge and marched along the streets. Quintus and his guards hesitantly followed. Aquilia stopped when she came to the market in the plebeian district. She placed the stool in the middle of the thoroughfare and stood upon it.

“Fine people of Nova Ostia! Please stop your chores for a few minutes and listen to me, because it concerns your lives. Do you want to exist miserably until the day you die, breaking your back in the hope that one day you can live comfortably? Well I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to wait and hope – you can flourish today! This city, and every other city in the world, is sick. The delusion that you have to work hard to be happy is everywhere. Forget everything you’ve been told, this civilisation is mad. Even you”

She pointed at the two mercenaries standing beside Quintus as he watched.

“Even you can turn a new leaf and live your lives free from stress, the way it was always meant to be. What would you rather be doing than working? Spending time with your friends and loved ones. That’s how we should live our lives. Not scrambling for a non-existent perfect life and constantly worrying about our weaknesses. If we let go of these worries, we can build a city where no-one is tired or angry. And after that, a world where no nation fears another, and eternal peace reigns”

Livilla and Paetus arrived to hear their friend’s sermon. Some people were stopping to listen for a minute, but most people only gave her passing attention.

“She’s not like other Epicureans I’ve met,” said Livilla, “not lazy or indifferent. She’d make a good Stoic”

“What horrors did she see back in the empire?” said Paetus

Aquilia preached from her stool for the rest of the day and well after dark. The next morning she got up before dawn and went to the market to catch the early-risers. For most of that day there was a small crowd around her. Livilla and Paetus would fetch her water when her voice grew hoarse and bread which she ate in seconds before continuing her homily. The day after that, the market was throbbing with men and women listening to her every word. Some even proudly declared that they had refused to go to work that day. A dozen mercenaries were there keeping an eye on the crowd, but some were listening intently to the philosopher. As the sun approached the horizon, the throng was reinforced by workers and slaves returning from the docks.

“A better Nova Ostia, a fair Nova Ostia is possible,” said Aquilia, “but our Altus Eques isn’t convinced. We need to persuade him, or the city you deserve will never be built. We need to send him a message, that the people are ready for change. Our happiness first! Our happiness first!”

She jumped off the stool and started walking towards the forum. The excited multitude followed her. As they entered the forum, the priests glared at them from their temple, and groups of well-dressed socialites scattered. They assembled at the bottom of the stairs leading to the palace, with their shepherdess at the very front.

“Our happiness first! Our happiness first! Our happiness first!”

Aquilia looked over her shoulder – the forum was slowly filling, the news of the demonstration was spreading. At the top of the stairs Scaeva appeared, with Quintus by his side. The Altus Eques shook his head in disappointment. A troop armed with hand-held arcuballistas rallied at the battlements. He’s got the message, thought Aquilia, we should go. The soldiers loaded their weapons and took aim at the crowd. She reminded herself that Epicurus taught that it was irrational to fear dea-

“Argh!”

The man next to her had been struck by an arrow in the chest. The forum was suddenly filled with screams and shouts, and the mass of people turned and ran. Almost without realising, Aquilia was running and pushing. Instinct had overridden ethical education. Arrows streaked through the air. Once they were out of the forum and out of sight, they were safe, but everyone ran for their homes, their faces full of regret. One man, red with anger, recognised Aquilia.

“You’ve got blood on your hands!”

“I’m sorry!” spluttered Aquilia, “I didn’t know!”

Livilla and Paetus appeared beside her, grabbed her arms and led her down an alleyway. Minutes later they were back at the Lodge.

“Pack your bag,” said Paetus, “we can’t stay here”

Aquilia gathered her few possessions, then collapsed onto her bed. There was no way to redeem the situation. She had failed. The two Stoics came into her room with their bags packed and climbed through her window onto the narrow passage. They helped Aquilia through as well, then ran to the river and along the muddy path that snaked between the water and the backs of buildings. They surprised a woman lounging in the sun in her immaculate river-facing garden, and before long they reached the city walls. Livilla walked into the water, and began rattling each of the iron bars guarding the low archways through which the river flowed. Luckily one was loose, and digging her heels into the riverbed, Livilla managed to wrench it out of place. They slipped through into the darkness and out the other side.

There were open fields of wheat, lazily swaying in the breeze. Livilla saw the exhaustion in Aquilia’s eyes and grabbed hold of her hand. They carried on, Livilla almost dragging Aquilia along, jumping over irrigation channels and catching curious stares from farmers. Aquilia’s mind had ground to a halt – there was no energy left to think or care. Was this inner peace? She simply let Livilla lead her, until she raised her head and saw they were heading for the jungle. She took her hand back. The dream wasn’t dead yet.

“The river,” she said, “we just need to follow the river”