Empire - Saylor Steven - Страница 144

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Hadrian took hold of the gilded roof of the model, which lifted completely off, exposing the interior, which was as finely finished and detailed as the exterior, with tiny porphyry columns, marble apses, and beautifully rendered statues of the goddesses.

Apollodorus gazed at the model without speaking.

Hadrian cleared his throat. “Of course, you will have grasped the rather clever wordplay at work here. Venus represents love – amor – and ‘amor’ spelled backwards is Roma. Thus, placing the two divinities of Venus and Roma back-to-back in a single temple creates a further symmetry with the back-to-back symmetry of their names. Within Roma’s chamber there will be an altar where officials of the state will make sacrifices for the good fortune of the city. Within Venus’s sanctuary, there will be an altar where newlywed couples can make sacrifices to the goddess. I’ve designed the altars myself, of course…” His voice trailed off. He was waiting for Apollodorus to say something.

At last Apollodorus waved at the model and said, “I don’t suppose the whole temple lifts up, to show what’s underneath?”

“No,” said Hadrian. “What would be the point of that?”

“To allow us to see the basement.”

“There’s a basement, but it’s of no particular interest-”

“I presume there’s also a tunnel, leading from that basement to the subterranean chambers beneath the Flavian Amphitheatre?”

Hadrian shook his head. “I have no plans for such a tunnel-”

“That’s too bad. The need for one is so obvious, I should think even Decrianus would have seen it. Probably he did, but was afraid to say anything.”

“What are you talking about, Apollodorus?”

“The basement of this temple is going to be huge. That much space, in the heart of the city, shouldn’t go to waste. It would have been the ideal place to store the various mechanisms for the amphitheatre when they’re not in use – the lifts and pumps and cranes and so forth. With an underground tunnel, those machines could have been moved from the basement of the temple to the amphitheatre and back, out of sight. What a shame. What a wasted opportunity! If only I had been consulted-”

“Only you would look at a temple and see a closet!” said Hadrian. “This building isn’t about creating storage space. It’s about beauty, and worship, and-”

“Ah, yes, the temple itself.” Apollodorus sighed. “I suppose we can be thankful that the engineers couldn’t solve your dome problem, or else we’d have gotten a gigantic gourd plopped down in the very centre of the empire. Instead, we have… this. Well, it has a normal ceiling and a normal roof; I can approve of that. Yes, the double-temple idea is clever – rather too clever, I think. The temple as palindrome! Personally, I think there’s something unnatural about a building which has two fronts and no back – I can’t say I find it pleasing. The whole conception is flawed, from the ground up – literally. The structure should have been built on higher ground to make it stand out more conspicuously at the head the Sacred Way. If Trajan could excavate a hill to make space for his Forum, surely his successor could have built a hill on which to place his temple. That would have given you an even larger basement, and more storage space, by the way. Of course, you might yet be able to make the ceiling higher; it may not be too late to fix that problem, at least.”

“Higher ceilings?” said Hadrian. His face was ashen.

“Obviously. Any beginning student of architecture could see that these statues are too large for the interiors.”

“Too large?”

“What if the goddesses should wish to get up and leave? They’ll hit their heads on the ceiling.”

“But why would the goddesses-”

Apollodorus kept a straight face for a moment, then burst out laughing. No one joined him.

Despite the warmth that radiated from the heated floors and walls, it seemed to Marcus that the room was suddenly chilly. Hadrian’s face was as red as if he had just stepped from the hottest pool in the building. Apollodorus seemed oblivious of the scene he had just caused. He gestured to one of the slaves and asked for more wine.

Without a word, Hadrian left the room. Suetonius and Favonius and the rest followed after him, but Apollodorus stayed where he was. He sipped his wine and gazed at the model, shaking head.

“Father-in-law, what have you done?” said Marcus.

Apollodorus shrugged. “He asked me what I thought, and I told him. Better now than later. He may yet be able to salvage something from this folly.”

“Father-in-law, do you imagine you’re so important – do you think the emperor is so unfeeling-”

Apollodorus waved his hand dismissively. “If you have nothing intelligent to say, Pygmalion, go home and change my grandson’s diapers.”

Marcus hurried after the others. He hoped to find the emperor laughing and joking with his friends in the gallery, making light of Apollodorus’s comments. But as Marcus caught up with the retinue, he saw that Hadrian’s attention had been claimed by a most unseemly sight: two naked, middleaged men, one on each side of the gallery, were furiously rubbing their backs against protruding corners, just as the impoverished veteran had done earlier.

Apparently, word of the emperor’s kindness to the veteran had spread, and these two were hoping to elicit a similarly generous response. Hadrian angrily seized one of the men by the shoulders and pushed him towards the other, then called to his bodyguards.

“If these fellows need a backrub so badly, let them rub each other. Tie them together, back-to-back. Let them they stay that way for the rest of the day, as an example to anyone who presumes to make a fool of Caesar.”

Hadrian walked away at a fast clip. Marcus followed him for a while, then gradually slowed his pace and came to a stop, watching as the emperor and his retinue receded in the distance, listening to the echo of their footsteps down the long gallery.

“Don’t stack those stones here,” said Marcus. “Can’t you see there’s more digging to be done? Stack them over there!”

The workmen charged with enlarging the basement of the Temple of Venus and Roma were probably the stupidest Marcus had ever dealt with, and he had dealt with some very stupid workers. These fellows did not have even the excuse of being slaves; they were all skilled stoneworkers. Hadrian had insisted that only artisans of a certain calibre be employed at each stage of the temple’s construction, including the enlargement of the basement.

How had it fallen to Marcus to oversee the project? It was a matter of attrition, he thought. He had done nothing to rise in the emperor’s favour; rather, those of greater experience and standing had lost the emperor’s favour, one by one, until Marcus had found himself called on to manage the work on the Temple of Venus and Roma while Hadrian was away from the city on his tour of the northern provinces. It was a great honour, but at this early stage there was nothing challenging about it and certainly nothing that called on his skills as an artist. Essentially, the temple was still just a hole in the ground, and at Hadrian’s decree that hole was being made larger.

“I spend my days with idiots in a hole in the ground,” Marcus muttered, shaking his head.

The slave who assisted him at the site each day – running errands, carrying messages, taking dictation – was a red-headed Macedonian named Amyntas. The youth scurried down the ladder and approached him.

“Master, your wife has come to visit you.”

“Did she bring my son with her again?”

“Yes, Master.”

Marcus sighed. How many times had he asked Apollodora not to visit him at the work site, and especially not to bring the baby? Even on the best of days, accidents happened – a cart stacked with stones might spill its load, or a carpenter with a sweaty hand might send a hammer flying through the air. But Apollodora was truly the daughter of her father; she would do as she pleased.

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