VOLUMEN XIV
Omnia causa fiunt.
Tiberius was unsure of himself. He dreaded returning home and informing Pater that he was alive. Our father was not known for patiently hearing both sides of a story before making judgment, and he was no doubt aware that Tiberius had been beaten to death as penalty for cowardice. Pater would never believe that my brother had done no wrong.
However, he had nowhere else to go, and what could he do? Any soldier who survived such a beating was considered dishonorably discharged, so Tiberius could not simply return to the army. He had to find some way to earn a living.
After giving the matter considerable thought, he decided to return to the villa and hope for the best. As he approached in the early hours just before dawn, he noticed that Orthrus and Cerberus, two of Pater's fiercest dogs, made no sound. Tiberius was surprised to see Numerius sitting beside the barn, gently scratching the dogs behind their ears.
"Do I find myself in the presence of a spirit from the next world, or does my brother live?" Numerius asked, staring in disbelief.
"I live," Tiberius replied.
As my brothers embraced, Tiberius explained how he had been beaten and left for dead for the crime of being the son of Drusus Duilius Domitianus, but he had been found by Apion and tended by a stranger.
"But what are you doing up at this hour?" he concluded. "It's far too early for breakfast."
Numerius sighed. "It's easier to make plans when no one else is awake to interrupt my thoughts. I'm trying to find a way to grant Pater's slaves their liberty."
Tiberius recoiled in horror. "You wouldn't dare!"
"It's the right thing to do. I'm tired of seeing mothers weep as their sons are sent to the arena. Do you not pity the young children who see their parents crucified or beaten to death? Have you no mercy for the young ladies who take their own lives rather than being forced to offer themselves to Pater? How many more must die in the name of liberty without obtaining it?!"
Despite the darkness of the early morning, Tiberius could see an ember fanned into flame in our brother's eyes. He knew then that Numerius would not be dissuaded, even at the cost of his life. However, Tiberius was not one to turn away from those he loved.
"Pater will not treat you any more mercifully than he treats them," he warned.
"Why should my life be any more valuable than theirs? Are we not all humans?"
As Numerius continued to pat the dogs, his hands trembled. He knew all too well what happened to those who became the victims of our father's wrath. However, he had inherited Pater's obstinacy, and when he believed he fought for a worthy cause, he would never falter.
"How can I help?" Tiberius asked.
Numerius shook his head. "Don't get involved. Pater thinks you're dead. If he finds out you're still alive, but you're helping steal his slaves, he'll be furious by your betrayal."
"I will not be an idle spectator as my younger brother gets murdered! How can I help?!"
Closing his eyes for several moments as he thought, Numerius finally replied. "Hire a wagon and bring it here. Take the slaves before the praetor or consul and have them declared freedmen, for if a Roman citizen formally frees his slaves, and they are of age, then they too become citizens."
My brothers silently contemplated the plan.
"Wait!" Numerius sighed. "Pater will no doubt notice a wagon. You'll have to hide it in the woods. Robbers may be lurking behind every tree, so rather than having you leave the wagon, we'll come to you. Meet us near the large oak just beyond Pater's vineyards at this same hour in one fortnight."
Tiberius nodded. "For your part, you mustn't let Pater know I'm alive. Don't let anyone know. A slip of the tongue at the wrong time could give away our secret."
The stillness of the early morning was shattered by a mournful cry, as if a lost soul shrieked in the wilderness, its shrill scream gradually becoming a low groan. Another voice joined with an unearthly moan like a harbinger of Tartarus.
My father's dogs growled as their hackles began to rise. While Cerberus bared his fangs as his growl became a snarl, Orthrus paced in agitation.
"Lupi," Tiberius remarked.
Numerius shrugged. "In all the time Pater has owned this villa, I haven't heard of a single incident of wolves harming a human being. That's more than I can say about Pater. Lupine howls are hardly the most menacing sound."
"Then what is?"
"The crack of a whip, the rap of a rod, and the roaring of lions are all horrific, but even worse are the screams of anguish that turn into complete silence, followed by the lamenting shrieks of grief." He sighed as he looked at the lightening sky. "It will be dawn soon. If I hurry, I can feed the livestock before the slaves wake to begin their duties. They already have too many chores as it is."
For the briefest moment, my brothers stood together in silence, contemplating the weight of the burden that now rested on their shoulders.
As they embraced, Tiberius stated, "I will bring the wagon myself rather than hiring a driver. Just promise that you won't let anyone know I'm still alive."
"I will completely deny your existence," Numerius promised.
Sensing the approach of daybreak, a rooster crowed.
"Go now. If one of the slaves sees you here and tells Pater, all is lost."
"You've got more courage than every soldier in the empire combined," Tiberius remarked, "or perhaps it is nothing more than sheer folly."
Numerius shrugged. "Perhaps both."
A fortnight later, my brother gently rapped on the door of the slaves' quarters. One of the Nubian slaves answered, his eyes wide as he silently wondered what would bring the master's son to such a place in the hours before dawn.
"I can't sleep," Numerius began. "I wish to go for a walk. Who among you will follow me?"
The slaves stared in disbelief. It was not at all my brother's custom to give them orders or disturb them during the few, fleeting moments they had to rest.
"A walk at this hour, domine?" a Hebrew asked.
"If you trust me enough," answered my brother.
"Does he not help us with our chores?" An Ethiopian walked over to Numerius, standing beside him. "I trust him. I will go."
"Follow me," Numerius pleaded with the others. "Leave behind this life you know and have a more abundant life of freedom. Leave behind your heavy burdens, for I have come to offer you rest."
In less than a quarter of an hour, he had gathered a crowd of men, women, and children of all ages and nationalities. There were far too many people to fit in the wagon, but my brother would turn no one away. As they walked out to Pater's vineyard, Numerius kept a sharp eye on the group, helping the slaves that stumbled in the darkness, making sure none were left behind. Some of them trembled as they walked past the fields and into the woodland, but none dared turn back.
"You have done well," Numerius told them, "and now your good and faithful service will be rewarded."
Tiberius sat in a wagon beneath the tallest oak for miles. His eyes expressed disapproval at the large number of slaves, who would have to take turns riding in the wagon while the others walked beside it, for the greater the number, the higher the risk that Numerius would be caught, and the more severe his punishment when he was. However, he said nothing.
"There is a rich citizen in Rome who devotes his life to helping others," Numerius stated. "He will offer food and lodging until these new citizens can afford to care for themselves, and he'll help them find work. Meet me here again in exactly one month's time."
Tiberius sighed and rolled his eyes. "You're out of your mind!"
"I now commend their freedom, their very lives, into your hands. We've started a great deed, and I will not rest until it is finished."
The slaves were beginning to realize what would happen to them. Some believed they were only dreaming. Others wept with joy. Many were speechless.
As the wagon pulled away, Numerius began murmuring fervent prayers for the safety of its passengers. Sneaking back to his room, he tried unsuccessfully to sleep before dawn overtook him. When our father later wondered aloud about the missing slaves, Numerius told him there had been an outbreak of illness that was claiming many lives.
"And where were you before dawn this morning?!" Pater demanded.
"Sleepwalking," my brother lied.
"Lie down, and I'll make sure you don't have that problem tonight."
Although he was nearly trembling, Numerius had no choice but to obey. Ordering the slaves to pin my brother at the ankles and wrists, Pater used a rod to administer several strokes across the soles of his feet.
"That should keep you from wandering around in your sleep!" our father exclaimed proudly. "Don't you agree?"
"As you say, Pater," Numerius replied meekly.
"I didn't hit you hard enough to break any bones," Pater commented. "Don't you have anything to say?"
My brother nodded. "I thank you for your mercy."
"Keep your feet off the furniture until your stripes heal!"
As Numerius held his breath to keep from crying out, the slaves washed the blood from his bruised feet with warm water and vinegar before wrapping each foot with honey. Although none of them mentioned it, I knew they were all thinking of how skilled Pater's favorite slave used to be at washing feet before he was sent to the arena. He had known exactly where to press and rub to relieve pain, gently twisting the feet in his hands as he massaged them, always knowing whether warm or cool water would be best. His work was always so quick that Pater swore the slave could have washed all four paws of a charging lion before the beast had taken a full stride.
I had often seen slaves beaten with the rod, but it was rare for Pater to use it against one of his own children. However, as I have said, Numerius was incredibly obstinate. With injured feet, he would still stand for what he believed to be right, his back tall and strong as the oak, even though he knew that if his secret was ever discovered, his back may never straighten again.
My brothers continued meeting in the shadows to help slaves escape. For well over a year, they gave the empire new citizens. However, the day arrived when Pater, who had long since discovered that the slaves were running away rather than dying of some mysterious illness, announced that he had business in Rome. Wishing to remain at the villa in case news arrived of his most recent fugitives, he sent Numerius in his place.
At first, all went as planned. Traveling on one of Pater's finest horses, Numerius reached Rome before the end of the week. Having a good head on his shoulders, he soon finished his errand, and he decided to spend a few days with Tiberius before returning to the villa, but one day as they were sharing a meal at a street vendor's stall in the forum, Numerius noticed a small group of soldiers gathering around a man. Always one to interfere with matters that did not concern him, my brother hurried over to them and asked if there was a problem.
"This is a fugitive slave of Domitianus!" one of the soldiers announced. "You'd best be on your way! This is no matter that concerns a Roman citizen!"
Numerius recognized the slave as one that Pater had recently bought, a man who had not yet heard about those who had escaped by wagon. The slave had attempted to flee on his own and now faced arrest.
"It is my fault," Numerius lied. "I have stolen him from my father. If you will hand this man over to my brother, he will make sure the slave gets what he deserves, and I will submit to what I deserve."
One of the soldiers glanced in the direction where Tiberius was sitting. "Is your brother not the centurion who was beaten on false charges? Perhaps I should have a word with him about ways he can still serve the army. Those heretics are getting out of hand, and we could use a spy, someone who will pretend to be one of them, join their group, and lead us right to the traitors!"
Noticing the commotion, Tiberius wandered over, agreeing to take the slave into custody and accepting the soldier's plan to become a spy.
"You know what to do with this slave, don't you?" Numerius asked.
Tiberius nodded.
"I will meet you at the villa later."
Tiberius stared as if Numerius had taken leave of his senses, but understanding his meaning, my brother nodded again. He turned to leave with the slave, who was to become a Roman citizen that very day.
Numerius calmly moved his arms behind his back, placing his wrists in the shackles that the soldiers carried. He made no protest as they seized him by the arms and took him back to the villa.
Pater was furious. "What is this?! Did I not tell you to capture my slave?!"
"Your son said he stole the slave from you," one of the soldiers answered.
Our father crossed his arms. "So that's how they've been escaping!" He cleared his throat. "Thank you for returning my son. I'll have a word with him about this foolhardy endeavor of his, and he shall cause no more trouble after I have finished speaking with him."
The soldiers removed the shackles and left the villa to return to their regular duties.
"Did you take his place?!" Pater demanded. "I know that slave ran away after you had already left for Rome! Did you allow yourself to be arrested to spare him?!" He stood akimbo. "Why?!"
"I willingly submitted to chains so he could live free of them," Numerius replied. "I wanted nothing more than to spare his life. If he had been the one returned to our villa, you would have killed him."
"And now I might just as easily kill you!"
"I am prepared to die in the name of freedom."
Pater was seething. "Listen, Spartacus! Long before I finish with you tomorrow, you'll wish you were dead! Now go to your room! The slaves will make sure you stay there! Tomorrow you shall pay dearly for your theft!"
Numerius beamed as he went into his room and lay on his bed.
"Why are you smiling?" one of the slaves wondered aloud. "Did you not hear what your father said?"
"Yes," my brother replied, "he called me Spartacus."
The following morning began the terrible day when we all watched helplessly as Pater administered a severe flogging to my brother's back. However, Numerius would not be stopped so easily when liberty was at stake.
Several months after I had left the villa, Pater had caught Numerius helping slaves escape again. My brother feared another flogging, but instead, Pater had condemned Numerius to chains and forced my brother to walk to Rome, following behind the horse our father rode. The journey was long and arduous in a wagon, but on foot, it was a cruel form of torture. The heavy chains made it even more difficult for Numerius, cutting into his flesh each time he moved, but our father continued riding at a brisk pace. He also refused to give my brother anything to eat. Numerius was allowed to have only enough water to keep him from collapsing from the heat of the summer weather. By the time they arrived in Rome, my brother was exhausted.
Pater glared at him. "You wanted to concern yourself with the lives of slaves, so here's your chance!"
Numerius was taken behind the basilica. The man in charge of selling slaves shook his head sadly.
"I'm afraid he's not worth much," he stated. "After all, no one wants anything to do with any members of your family."
"He's young, healthy, and male," Pater argued. "He can learn to do any trade you want. He'll mind his place well enough!"
"I'll give you twenty denarii."
"He's worth well over fifty!"
"He would be if he wasn't your son, but I can't offer more than twenty."
Pater reluctantly agreed and took the money, removing my brother's chains. As soon as Pater rode away, the slave seller laughed.
"Any of your father's enemies would be proud to enslave his son!" he informed my brother. "They'll haggle over you like you're the most prized possession in the empire, and I'll be rich! The gods themselves could not give a greater reward!"
Everything happens for a reason.