Roma.The novel of ancient Rome - Saylor Steven - Страница 79
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Kaeso laughed. “You seem very passionate about it!”
“Passion is life, young man. And yes, language is my passion. What is your passion?”
Kaeso abruptly felt quite sober. The conversation had arrived at his reason for coming. “I want to be a builder, Censor.”
Claudius raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“Yes. More than anything! I’m eager to fight for Roma, of course. And if I must enter politics and learn something about the law, I will. I’ll even learn some Greek, if the Greeks can teach me something about architecture and engineering-because what I really want to do is build. It’s been so, ever since I was a child. When I was little, my favorite toys were building blocks. When I grew old enough to go about on my own, instead of watching athletes or chariot races or soldiers drilling on the Field of Mars, for hours I would stand at the site of a new temple or monument, or even at a place where the city walls were being repaired, watching the workmen and the equipment, seeing how the hoists and levers and pulleys were used, observing how mortar was mixed and bricks laid out to make arches and doorways. I admit that I have no special training, but I can draw-I know that a builder must be able to draw-and I’m very good with numbers, much better than I am with letters.”
“I see. And so you’ve come to me.”
“Yes! Men say that the road you’re building, running south to Capua, is like no road ever built before-straight as a ruler, flat as a table, hard as bedrock. And everyone is talking about your brilliant idea for bringing fresh water to the city-tapping the springs near Gabii, ten miles from Roma, running the water underground, then delivering it to the city atop an elevated channel supported by arches. An aqueduct, I think you call it? Amazing! These projects are the most exciting things that have happened in my lifetime-more exciting than battles, or elections, or even stories about conquerors at the far end of the world. I want to be part of them. I know there’s much I’ll need to learn, but I’m willing to work very hard. I want to do whatever I can to help you build your new road and your aqueduct.”
Claudius smiled. “You enthusiasm is flattering.”
“I speak from the heart, Censor.”
“I can see that. Strange! The Fabii have always been warriors, and a few have allegedly been statesmen, but never builders. I wonder how you came by such a trait?”
Kaeso did not care for the question, as it reminded him of his unknown origins, but he tried not to let his vexation show.
“Does your father know that you’ve come to me?”
“Yes, Censor. Although he disapproves of your politics-he calls you a radical populist-”
“Radical? Because I give common citizens well-paid work on public projects that benefit all of Roma? I suppose he calls me a demagogue, as well.”
Kaeso cheeks turned hot. His father had indeed used that despised word, imported from the Greek, for an unscrupulous leader who exploited the unruly passions of the mob. “Despite our political differences, Censor, my father understands how greatly I desire to work for you. He will do nothing to prevent me.”
“And your cousin Quintus?”
“I haven’t discussed it with him. But I don’t need his approval. I am-”
“Yes, I know: You are your own man.” Claudius drummed his fingers on his knees for a while, then nodded and smiled. “Very well, Kaeso Fabius Dorso. I shall find a suitable place for you on one of my projects.”
“Thank you, Censor!”
“And in the meantime, to please me, perhaps you will consider changing the ‘K’ in your name to a ‘C’.”
“Well-if you really think it’s necessary…”
“Kaeso, I’m only joking-alas!”
At dawn the next day, following the instructions of Appius Claudius, Kaeso set out from his home on the Palatine. He walked past the ancient Hut of Romulus and the fig tree called the ruminalis, a descendent of the tree which shaded Acca Larentia when she suckled Romulus and Remus. He descended the winding walkway known as the Stairs of Cacus.
He walked through the Forum Boarium (originally Bovarium, as Appius Claudius had informed him, but the letter ‘V’ had long ago been dropped by common usage). The workers in the shops and markets were just beginning their day. He passed the ancient Ara Maxima, where long ago his ancestors the Pinarii and the Potitii had inaugurated the worship of Hercules. The Potitii still made a sacrifice at the altar each year, but a long decline in the family’s fortunes had reduced their annual feast to a paltry affair. Even with his supposed connection to Hercules through the Fabii, Kaeso was only vaguely aware of the Feast of Hercules that took place at the Ara Maxima each summer, and had no idea that it was the oldest such observance in the city. Of his descent from the Pinarii and the Potitii, he knew nothing.
His destination was a work site at the foot of the Aventine Hill, between the Temple of Ceres and the north end of the Circus Maximus. He knew he had reached the place when he saw the great piles of earth and the network of ramparts that had been built around the excavation. A small army of workers, made up of freedmen and freeborn citizens, had gathered. They milled about, joking and complaining about having to wake up so early.
The sky, growing lighter every moment, was dotted with small clouds, and there was a breeze from the east. “Looks to be an excellent day for working outdoors,” said one of the men. “Too bad we’ll be stuck underground!”
A foremen appeared. The men formed a queue. One by one they were issued shovels and spades, then disappeared into a cave-like hole at the base of the hill.
Kaeso waited until the foreman had a spare moment, then approached him and introduced himself, as Claudius had instructed him to do.
The man was tall and slender, but wiry with muscle. His tunic was spotless, but there was dirt under his fingernails. “So you’re the young Fabius, here to learn about the aqueduct. My name is Albinius. I’m in charge of all aqueduct operations within the city walls, the most interesting part of the project from an engineering standpoint. Do you know where the city gets its water, currently?”
“From the Tiber, I suppose, and from springs here and there inside the city. And some people collect rainwater.”
“That’s right. And so it’s been from the beginning. But the water from the Tiber’s not always as clean as you might like, and some of the springs have dried up, and you can’t always depend on rain. And the bigger Roma grows, the more water her people need. Water for drinking and cooking, of course, and for irrigating crops outside the city, but also for bathing. Most people like to wash a bit of themselves every day, and a lot of people want to wash from head to foot every few days. That requires a lot of water! The demand has grown so great, we’ve reached a point where the city can’t accommodate more people unless we can somehow get more water.
“What to do? ‘We’ll simply bring the water we need from elsewhere,’ said Appius Claudius. ‘What, carry it by the wagonload?’ said the skeptics. ‘No, you fools!’ said Claudius. ‘We shall make the water flow here of its own accord, through the channel I shall build.’ And thus, thanks to the genius of the censor, the aqueduct was born-first of its kind anywhere on earth, and soon to be the envy of every thirsty city on earth. Right here is where the aqueduct will end, with the water pouring into a big public fountain. Do you know where the aqueduct begins?”
“Ten miles west of the city, at the springs near Gabii,” said Kaeso.
“That’s right. The fresh water from those springs will pour into an underground channel lined with stones and mortar. Because it’s downhill from there to here, that channel will carry the water all the way to the city walls, to a point near the Capena Gate. The underground channel is impressive in itself, if only for the amount of labor involved. Ten miles requires a lot of digging! And it’s hardly a straight line; it twists and turns to follow the contours of the landscape and keep the water flowing downhill. But what happens when the water reaches the city will be even more impressive.
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