Chapter 10

Mania Attia, Londinium, iii Nonas Martias DCCCLII A.U.C. (March 5, 99 AD) I wept day and night on the journey from Roma to Londinium, for guilt. I had betrayed my comrades, and what is worse, my savior, all to save my own wretched carcass. Now they reigned with Christos in heaven, dispatched there by the emperor’s poisoners, while I was on my way to the far ends of the earth after having been married off to Caeso Favonius Frigidian, under close guard. I was sure that when my end finally came, I would be cast into the outer darkness.

Once we had settled in at Londinium and I was under slightly less restrictive supervision, I replaced my tears with curses. I had squandered my inheritance, just as the prodigal son in the parable. It was only when I began to read the gospels I had managed to smuggle in my clothes that my mood began to brighten. For had not the prodigal son been welcomed with open arms by his father when he repented? And had not Peter betrayed Christ three times before dying a glorious witness to his grace? Surely, if there was hope for these, then there might be hope for a sinner such as I.

I began to pray without ceasing, and whenever I was left alone I read from the gospels and letters I had in my possession. Finally, I worked up the courage to approach one of the British maidservants. She had no idea who I was or why I had been married off, and presumably had never heard of Christos.

“Muriel, come here. I have good news I wish to share with you.

Caeso Favonius Frigidian You would expect being made prefect of Brittania to be a good career move, but it was turning into a nightmare. I had been hurriedly married off to the empress’s former step mother, who had fallen in with a dangerous religious sect, but who could not be killed thanks to her relationship to the imperial family. I was supposed to keep her quiet, but the first thing she did when I left the city was start preaching to the servants, several of whom appeared to be under her sway when I returned.

I wasn’t able to stay in the city long enough to do anything about it, as the Picts were getting restless. I had to spend most of the first year of my prefecture along the border while Mania Attia kept scheming in Londinium. I had held off mentioning anything to the emperor in my monthly dispatches. It would hardly enhance my reputation if word got out that I couldn’t control my own wife. Besides, the emperor had enough to worry about between the wars in Dacia and his pregnant wife.

I was at Eboracum when I received word that the baby had been born. It was a healthy boy, named Titus Flavius divi filius Aetius, but the empress had died in the labor. I decided that the last thing the emperor needed now was a reminder of his dead wife’s stepmother.