Solar Wind. Book one - страница 15

They did not understand that he was causing suffering not out of the whim of a capricious ruler, such as Domitian or Caligula. His steady hand expressed the will of the state, the cruel necessity that saved everyone in the end.

“But we haven't sat down yet. Please!” Hadrian invited Servianus to get down on his elbow, as they put it when they offered to lie on the bed. “I think it's sigma27 will be convenient. So, about Marcus. Yes, you're right, I difference him. But fame and nobility are not evidence that the boy will cope. The stars who patronize Rome suggest something else.”

“Who do you mean, great Caesar?”

Servianus's massive face froze. He decided that he would now hear the great mystery of the emperor Hadrian's plans, of which he had never spoken to anyone, would take shape.

The thoughts that hit Servianus made him nervous.

He, a well-known senator, was a close relative of the emperor, and the choice could fall on him. His grandson, Gnaeus Pedanius Fuscus, could also be a worthy successor, as Marcus was still young, he had a fragile soul. In addition, Pedanius was the only male offspring, in one way or another associated with the family of Hadrian.

After all, who was Marcus? Just a distant relative of Empress Sabina, in the intricacies of kinship, no one could understand. And among other things, Servianus was informed by close friends as at one of the feasts in a narrow circle, Hadrian asked about possible successors, asking to identify ten suitable candidates. But at the same time, Caesar made an important remark—he offered to name only nine out of ten, for the name of the tenth is known to him. This was Lucius Servianus.

Just like that! The emperor chose him! Of course, time had passed and he, Lucius Julius Urs Servianus, was not ready to shoulder the heavy burden of managing a huge empire. But here's Pedanius! He could.

The large, meaty face of Lucius Servianus turned red with excitement.

Hadrian took a cup of wine from the slave, drank, turned his eyes to the interlocutor. It was as if he was playing with the consul in games known to him.

“I'm thinking about your grandson,” Hadrian said. “He is young, but he has already shown himself on the good side. Not held large positions to hone the skill of management, but this case is fixable. What do you think, Lucius?”

“I fully approve of your choice, great emperor! Totally! My grandson and your nephew, the best candidate when it comes to successor. But we all hope to see you for more than one year. The gods will send you longevity!”

“Thank you!” Hadrian nodded with satisfaction. “Tell your nephew that I'm always happy to see him here in Tibur. Let Pedanius come without ceremony, as a person close to me. We will have something to talk about, walking in a graceful shadow. So,” he continued, changing the subject, “what do they say about me in Rome?”

“Everyone's talking about your recent joke, Caesar.”

“Which one? I have a lot of them. Did you know that I published my poems on behalf of Flegont freedman? The whole of Rome admired the former slave, and it was me, Emperor Hadrian. Of course, there were also scolds, I think, envious. I remember them. Then I had to tell the public about the real author.”

“I imagine the face of the critics,” Servianus gushed. “No, Caesar, I haven't read your poems. Unfortunately, I have little interest in literature.”