THE LAST CAESAR 5
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"THE LAST CAESAR" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.
THE LAST CAESAR
By Andrej Koymasky © 2020
Ended writing on December 2nd 2005
Translated by the Author
English text kindly reviewed by Talo Segura
CHAPTER 5
DIVIDED BY THE PURPLE
Almost two months had passed since Orestes had declared Julius Nepos' rule dissolved , and he still had not found a solution to his dilemma. It was the end of October, the legions of Orestes were restless and impatient.
It is not known who amongst the Germanic-Roman soldiers was who first to find the solution, but soon an idea began to spread amongst the legionnaires. If Orestes, not being of Roman blood, could not wear the imperial purple, he could give it to his son Romulus, who was the son of a patrician of pure Roman descent. In so doing he would respect the laws and customs of the empire and he could reign through his son.
So the soldiers gathered beneath the windows of the palace where Orestes lived in Ravenna and, beating the hilts of their gladius against the shields, they began to chant, in chorus: "Romulus Augustus! Romulus Augustus! Romulus Augustus!"
Orestes, hearing the clamour, hurried to look out and show himself to the soldiers. As he walked through the rooms of the palace, he told himself that this really could be the best solution to his problems.
When he appeared at the window, a long, roaring ovation greeted him. He made a gesture, imposing silence. The screaming mob at once became silent.
"My faithful soldiers, do you want my son Romulus as emperor?" he asked loudly.
"Yeeees!" they cried in unison.
"Nobody opposes? Are you sure?"
"Yeeees!" they screamed again and resumed beating their shields.
Orestes let them go on for a while, impassive. Then he raised his hand again, asking for silence, and proclaimed: "Let your will be done, then!"
He immediately sent his most loyal soldiers to collect Romulus and escort him to the palace of the Caesars in Ravenna. So that no one would remark upon the absence of the authentic regalia, the so-called Ornamenta Palatii, which Julius Nepos had taken with him, he prepared a purple toga, golden diadem and the red shoes symbolising imperial authority.
"Romulus Augustus..." Orestes mused to himself, "Romulus as the first Ruler of Rome, Augustus as the first Emperor. A very good omen..."
Thus, trying to give as much pomp as possible to the ceremony, on the last day of October in the year 1228 from the foundation of Rome, Orestes invested his son with the imperial power.
The boy was intimidated by what was happening to him, by what tore him away from his quiet life, without problems. He had timidly tried to tell his father that he did not feel up to such a task, but Orestes smiled and told him not to worry, because he would not have to do anything, besides appearing at public ceremonies: his father would do everything that was important and necessary.
First of all, he gave orders to mint gold «solidi» coins to the mints of Rome, Milan and Ravenna, as well as to Arles, in Gaul. Then he sent embassies to the Senate in Rome and to the emperor of the East, asking for the official recognition of his son as emperor of the West.
At the same time he sent plenipotentiaries to the Germanic princes in Gaul, Hispania and Africa to make treaties and thus assure Italy the necessary protection.
The treaties were signed, the Senate accepted the decision, or suffered it. Zeno, the emperor of the East, sent a greeting not containing however any official recognition of Flavius Romulus Augustus as emperor of the West. People began to call the new emperor Romulus «Augustulus», that is «little emperor», some with affection, the most with contempt... The Greeks called him «Momyllus», that is «small worthy-of-blame» or «little pest», «brat».
Among the curious crowd that witnessed the ascension to the throne of the new emperor in Ravenna, there was also Helvius and with him Cimon. When they saw the young man appear, whose pallor was accentuated by the purple and whose crown seemed too large for a sixteen year old, Helvius nudged his friend.
"You see, he's my secret lover..." he said excitedly.
Cimon laughed: "Oi, Helvius, you do not have delusions of grandeur, do you? And then ... I pity the poor boy: do you remember what happened to almost all the last emperors? Look what a lost expression he has... he probably feels that his end is too close. "
"I tell you it's him!" the young man whispered in a low but resolute tone.
"But if you told me he was a little slave? That boy is the son of Orestes. You are rambling, my friend."
Helvius smiled: he did not care if he was believed or not. The only thing that worried him was that, since his boyfriend had to live in the imperial palace now, he could not see him so easily. At this thought the smile died on his lips and a cold hand gripped his heart.
But being a bold, ingenious type, he did not easily lose heart and his brain began to work furiously. Entering secretly into the imperial palace... A desperate enterprise... But love can create miracles... Perhaps Romulus could find a way to get in inventing some excuse, because certainly now it would be impossible for him to leave without being seen. But how could he communicate with him?
Cimon noticed this change of mood: "Well, what's wrong with you now?"
"You must help me find a way to enter the imperial palace..."
"Hey, have you lost your mind? I'm not going to risk my head, not me!"
"I have to find a way to see Romulus again..."
"Yes, you really lost your mind. All right, the new emperor is a nice kid... but cannot you be satisfied with the slave boy? Have you already forgotten him? You said you were so in love with him and now..."
"It's him, I tell you!" Helvius protested , taking him away from the crowd, walking through the «via porticata», the street of the arcades, he stopped in a corner and told him the whole story of his secret encounters with Romulus.
"For Priapus' cock! But then... you buggered the emperor... even if he was not yet!"
"No, I made love... He loves me and I love him..."
"But, what the hell, don't you understand it's not possible anymore? You have to get him out of your head now."
"I cannot..." Helvius complained.
"You must, fucking hell!"
"I cannot..." the young man repeated disconsolately.
Cimon shook his head and murmured, "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Come back down to earth!"
"Furius Germanus Caepio... isn't he a palace official?"
"Yes... you're not thinking of..."
"And is he not enraptured of our Luscinius?"
"Yes, he always asks only about him... But..."
"If I send him to Germanus... for free, do you think he could help me get into the palace?"
"We have to see if Luscinius will go there for free..."
"I won't tell the boy about it. I'll pay his part from my pocket... However, Luscinius never had any problem with seeing Germanus. Come on, Cimon, didn't I help you get your Icenius? Why are you making it difficult for me ?"
"Yeah, but fuck, he was a slave, not the emperor!"
"If Germanus let me in..."
"And for what? Tell me, for what? You can't tell him you want to fuck the emperor, right?"
"No, of course..."
"Nor can you tell him that you «simply» want to steal from the palace, right?"
"Of course not, though..."
"And what excuse can you find, then?"
"That I want to fuck with one of the slaves..."
"He would tell you to wait for him to go out, right? He would ask you who he is, and at most he would offer to bring him to your embassy..."
Helvius understood that Cimon was right, yet he did not want to, he could not give up. "What if I tried to bribe one of the palace guards?"
"And if he denounces you? Orestes has put his most loyal soldiers on guard, right?"
"I could try to get hired at the palace..."
"How? As the court pimp? Come on!"
They continued to argue and Cimon unsuccessfully tried to dissuade him, while Helvius was clutching at straws to find some solution.
Meanwhile, after the chaotic days of his ascension to the throne, Romulus was also breaking his head to find a way to see Helvius again... If he at least had a trusted friend to ask for advice, to ask for help...
If he had been almost a prisoner in the villa, now he was much more so than before. He smiled with self-irony: he was the Emperor, but now he had even less power, less freedom than before. And this, because of his father's thirst for control!
He thought about hiring a slave to bring a secret message to Helvius... but he realized that there were actually three obstacles: he did not know where his beloved lived, he could not be sure he could trust one of the palace slaves, and even if there were not these two problems, what message could he send him? How, where and when could he tell him that they could meet? Above all, how and where?
Romulus paced up and down his rooms, feeling sad, lonely, and like a prisoner. He wanted to tear off the useless purple robe; he wanted to throw that hated diadem out of the window! He wanted to cry... but he was no longer a child. He wanted to scream out his frustration... but he was not a hysterical maid. He wanted to disappear from the palace... but he was not a wizard... if they really existed.
In a fit of rage and helplessness, he kicked the three-legged table, which toppled over, causing the precious metal pot placed there to clatter loudly onto the floor. Immediately a handful of soldiers, weapons in hand, entered the room.
"Augustus Imperator! What happens?"
"Out! How dare you come into my presence without being summoned?!" the boy shouted.
"We heard a noise and..."
"But not my voice calling you ! Get out of here, lubberly villains!"
The soldiers saluted and left.
Romulus, who had a good character, regretted having treated them badly when they were there to protect his life, even if in fact they were, albeit unwittingly, his jailers.
He sat on the «curule» chair, as he was entitled, made of acacia wood, with ivory inserts carved in low relief representing the twelve labours of Hercules. He thought that if his Helvius could have extracted the ivory tablets from that chair and sold them, he would have made a good profit...
At this thought, he smiled: Helvius the thief, Helvius the pimp... Helvius his beloved! He did not care that he had confessed to him how he earned his living; he knew he loved him and was loved by him: that was enough. On the other hand, was not his father also a «thief» who stole nothing less than what remained of the Western Roman Empire?
He took a mirror and looked at himself. "Flavius Romulus Augustus Romae Imperator!" he exclaimed aloud and burst out laughing: a bitter, sarcastic, sad laugh.
"Flavius Romulus Augustus Romae Imperator..." he whispered, putting down the mirror and shaking his head. He took off his purple toga, his tunic, his red shoes, his loincloth, and naked, his legs a little apart, his fists on his hips, he whispered: "Ah, if Helvius were here with me... for me... In me..."
His member slowly began to rise. He put his hand on it and started to masturbate, closing his eyes. "Helvius, my Helvius..." he murmured as he felt a subtle pleasure permeating his young and fresh body. "Are you thinking of me, do you miss me?"
In another part of Ravenna, in a poorer suburb, Helvius was lying on his bed, on the floor. At that moment there was nobody in the house, the boys were all at work and Cimon with Icenius had gone out to get provisions.
The young man lifted the tunic to uncover his pubis, grabbed his own member and began to manipulate it until it stood upright and hard. Then he began to masturbate, closing his eyes and dreaming of having, with him, his Romulus, his flower... dreaming of the waves that lightly lapped their bodies, the sun gently caressing their intertwined limbs, the grass that was their bed.
He recalled the night he had penetrated Romulus's room and made love on the precious and elegant bed, while the unsuspecting sentinels watching outside while the whole villa slept...
"My little emperor, where are you?" he moaned, dejected. "My little flower, what are you doing, why can not you be here with me? Are you thinking of me, are you missing me?"
Almost in unison, although divided by various insulae of poor and rich houses, plebeian and patrician, the two lovers reached their solitary orgasm, dedicating it one to the other. They quivered, they trembled, they groaned together.
Romulus threw himself on the bed, prone, his head resting on his closed arms in a circle. Helvius tidied himself, got up from the bed, went to the door and leaned against the jamb, looking at the street without seeing it.
"My sun, when will you come back to shine on me?" asked the little emperor in the still air of the room.
"My flower, when will I be able to catch you again and inebriate myself with you?" asked the young thief to the darkening sky.
A servant knocked on the door of Romulus's room and called: "Augustus, dinner is almost ready... When you want to deign to go downstairs..."
Cimon and Icenius returned with provisions and the young slave lit the stove to cook dinner for the three of them, helped by his lover.
Helvius returned to the house. "Happy you, that can be together!" he said with a sad but kind smile.
Icenius smiled happily: "We owe you this... bliss, Helvius! Lucky the day my former master had to sell me. Lucky the day when the merchant failed to sell me either in Sutri or in Augubium and brought me here to Ravenna. Lucky is the day when Cimon set his gaze on me..."
Helvius nodded and smiled at him: "At least you... be happy."
Cimon intervened: "You cannot continue to berate yourself like this, Helvius, my friend! You must forget... you must resign yourself, unfortunately. Look for another boy, one within your reach."
"No. Neither will I forget nor will I resign myself, I cannot, as I told you, and I still do not despair... of being able to find a way."
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 6
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