“Where is the body of the rebel himself?” someone asked behind the Princep’s back.
It was relatively not old, he was not yet thirty-five, the Senate envoy Lucius Ceionius Commodus. The Senate reported that it would not mind if Hadrian, in honor of the victory over Judea, declared his triumph and celebrated the event in Rome.
Hadrian was looking at Ceionius.
He had long known his family from Tibur, where villa Ceionius was relatively close to the residence of the princeps. He also knew Commodus's mother Plavtia, who was a hot thing. She had gone through three husbands. The first, the father of Ceionius, Hadrian knew quite well, and he respected him. Thanks to his father a few years ago, his son was given the post of pretor, a post insignificant, but responsible in terms of the beginning of his career. Then, after the death of his father, the young Lucius began to entrust more important affairs.
This had already been facilitated by Plavtia, a seductive woman who tried to charm him, Hadrian. He was then young, strong, charming, entering the court of Trajan and with his mother Ceionius they could have a love affair, all contributed to this. But the Emperor's wife Plotina already picked him as Vibia Sabina's bride, and he could not embark on the waves of love joys with the married matron. Although, evil tongues claimed that Ceionius Commodus was his son.
Hadrian looked again at the young man who, under certain circumstances, could have been his son. Curly hair, high height, amiable smile, pleasant speech of an educated man who knows Hellenic and Roman literature. Everything about him was like Hadrian. This Ceionius was also a connoisseur of cooking, it was he who invented Tetrapharmakon—a dish so loved by the emperor.
But a low forehead, a cheerful emptiness in the eyes and primitive reasoning. No, this Ceionius Commodus was superficial, did not have the depth of reason and the breadth of views inherent in him, Hadrian.
“Yes, where is his body, Severus?” the emperor supported Lucius Ceionius. “Of course, there is enough head, but still, I would like to look at it completely.”
“Great Caesar, we found a body in one of the caves, not far from here. The rebel tried to hide with his companions, but he was discovered by us. Some of them we killed, the rest captured. They say that among the prisoners was a Jewish interpreter of the laws of Judaism, a priest. His name is Akiva. Spies say that he is one of the instigators of the uprising against Rome.”
“Akiva?” Hadrian asked.
“Yes,” the legate Matenianus confirmed. “The spies told us that this Akiva had been proclaimed the messiah king of Varkoheba. He also set out on the road in Judea and preached enmity to Rome, called for rebellion, collected money.”
“The Jews in this war have given us fierce resistance,” Hadrian said wistfully. “Even the divine Titus did not have to face such a pervasive and desperate struggle. Samaria, Galilee, Golan and Ashkelon. Only in Caesarea was the fire of rebellion weak. They say it's thanks to the Christians whom Varkoheba forced to give up his faith and join the rebels. What happened, what happened to these people?”
“I've already reported to the princeps that fanatics like Akiva contributed to the war,” intervened in the conversation of governor Rufus. He was hot, his face glistened with sweat. “Religion is what motivated the Jews to revolt.”
