XVIII

Dobreta

The day before the Ides of May

HADRIAN LET THE masseur do his work, for this was one of his own slaves, and not one of the butchers you tended to find around army bases. He was in the praetorium at Dobreta, on the west bank of the river, and sharing the house with an equestrian tribune from I Minervia. The fellow had offered to vacate altogether, but Hadrian had insisted that he and his family stay and keep the lion’s share of the rooms. Word would spread, and it was easier to lead happy officers than sullen ones. Apart from that he did not intend to be here very long, so could put up with the tribune’s noisy and badly behaved children, and unctuous attentions of his plump little wife, who was a freedman’s daughter and absurdly excited to have a senator and relative of the emperor in her house. Thankfully she fell into mumbling incoherence whenever they met, so did not chatter away in useless flattery or irritate him too much.

An hour earlier she had come upon the legate wrestling in the courtyard garden in the middle of the house, facing off against Ajax, a former professional now in his service. They were naked and oiled, as men should be, sparring on a patch of sand set down for the purpose, and the woman had appeared from nowhere, two maids behind her with baskets of purchases from the market. The mistress had shrieked, the slaves dropped their baskets, but Ajax had not been distracted and they had held the lock until they broke apart, honours even. Hadrian had stood up straight, and greeted the woman, who was now blushing crimson. Perhaps he was cruel, although when the story spread through the ranks of the legion – as it surely would – he had little doubt that men would laugh at her rather than him. For all the mistress’ shock and embarrassment, she had lingered long enough to take a good look, and that would surely become part of the story as well. Her husband was a slight, rather weedy little man, and the sight of Hadrian’s tall, well-proportioned and highly trained body was probably a treat for her. He smiled as he lay on the table and the masseur moved on to his thighs.

The bout and the massage made him feel well, for he was getting back into a better routine than had been possible during his travels. He had told Ajax not to go easy on him, and the man knew his master well enough to do as he was told. The first few bouts had been painful, for a man lost his edge so quickly without practise, but this morning he felt that he was getting back to his peak, as muscles loosened and toned. Soon there would be no time for training, so he wanted to make the most of the chance and revel in that sense of being a fit and civilized man.