Ampelius felt a cool breeze beneath his tunic as he swung the hammer with his calloused hands. It had been an unusually hot month of March. He mulled over a long day and the tasks that lay ahead of him– he had to harden Marius’s armor and then settle his debts with his Patrcii, Lucius.
Ampelius had moved to Rome twelve years ago from Sardinia along with his father. Ampelius recalled his father’s words - “Ampelius, you need to sail with winds of change. If you see a tailwind, ride it”. Hailing from a coastal province, Sardinians tended to use examples of that nature. His father was an enterprising man. He managed to get a job immediately. Rome was expanding everywhere and the need for weapons was paramount. Major metal supplies were coming from Brittania, Sardinia, and Hispania. Patrcii Lucius was pretty much running the city’s smiths and needed smiths who could work with a variety of metals. His father’s expertise with Sardinian iron made him an ideal hand. They had set up a shop near Ludus Aemilius, a popular gladiatorial school. The business boomed with a steady supply of short swords to the Ludus.
Being a proud, passionate Sardinian, his father didn’t hesitate to show his support for Caesar’s factions. He never left a chance to recount the time when Caesar’s uncle defended the Sardinian honor against Rome’s greatest orators– Cicero himself. This vocal support, as well as the success that came with their booming business for “filthy” and “beastly” Sardinians, were reasons enough for envy of others. When the riots broke out eight years ago between Caesar sympathizers and his enemies, the mobs– looking to get back at the Sardinians, murdered Ampelius’ father in the middle of the city.
After his father’s demise, Ampelius inherited the shop. He kept a low profile, did not interfere in matters of Roman politics, and did not air the fact that he was a Sardinian. Lucius’ estate and the shop offered him a shell of protection. It was back-breaking work and he had no interest in doing it forever. Ampelius had one dream - save enough money, go back to his home province, find a Sardinian woman to marry, and settle down.
Ampelius was wrapping up his work for the day and his thoughts were interrupted by Varro, his only friend, who worked in one of the baths in the city.
“Ampelius, you are working too hard. Join me, let’s enjoy the beautiful afternoon!” said Varro, waving at him as he entered the shop.
“Varro! I was just wondering where have you been all these days,” exclaimed Ampelius
“Great, I see you miss me. You could have dropped by my bathhouse?” said Varro, casually picking up a shortsword lying nearby.
Striking the hammer one more time, Ampelius responded, “You know how much I hate these public places– places where discords are sown and massacres are planned”
“If you don’t want to come to my bathhouse, I am bringing the bathhouse to you”, Varro said in a teasing voice.
“There is some uneasiness in the city all week. I didn’t see a lot of clientele visiting the bathhouse,” Varro continued
“Didn’t know you kept track of your clientele”, Ampelius said teasingly.
“I can’t help noticing if senators and their Venus-like wives don’t visit. Ever since Caesar has taken over the office, there seems to be an air of restlessness for these senators,” Varro said while brandishing the short sword against an invisible enemy.
At the mention of Venus and Caesar, Ampelius started thinking about the last few years. It was tumultuous, to say the least. Gaius Julius Caesar had taken over the republic and instituted changes that made the aristocracy uneasy. All these gladiatorial fights to celebrate his victory and the upcoming preparation for war against the Parthians meant he was just working overtime, which meant good for business. Marius, his frequent client, gave him an Aureii (a gold coin) as an extra payment to get his armor ready before others. It was a coin he had never seen before, a bust of Caesar in the front and Venus holding a winged entity at the back. It was probably Goddess Victory, Ampelius mused. He never understood Roman mythology but made an effort to read about it.
“The way Caesar has grabbed power has made me uncomfortable”, Varro continued, breaking Ampelius’s thoughts.
“Oh come now, Varro, don’t you think his presence has won many admirers among us plebes?”, Ampelius reminded.
“Maybe for you. Caesar has made the outsiders like yourselves a citizen”, Varro said as he pointed the sword at Ampelius.
“Enough politics, let’s go to Theatrum Pompeii. I heard that some exotic animals are being brought today for upcoming gladiatorial games. We can catch a sneak preview at them”, Varro trying to egg Ampelius to join him. Ampelius, still feeling bitter about being referred to as an outsider, reminded Varro that he had an appointment with Lucius’ estate.
“Alright, but let’s attend the games when they start next week. I would love to see Pindarus stab a leopard”, Varro concluded with a stabbing motion and left the shortsword on Ampelius’s table.
As Varro left the shop, Ampelius quickly put finishing touches on the armor and dipped it in a brine solution for hardening overnight. He then grabbed his money pouch and tied it under his tunic and started to make his way towards the hills where Lucius estate was located.
Ampelius always liked visiting the hills, away from all the stench in the city. Ampelius loved the smell of open-air and sea, he was reminded of his childhood in Sardinia. Living in Rome meant he either had to endure the smoke from his shop or the stench from all the refuse strewn in the streets. The hills, where all the senators and patricians lived were different, of course. He passed by various villas that dotted his path to Lucius estate, smelling the flowers and fresh breeze along the way.
Ampelius reached a wooden door and tapped it with a lion-shaped door-knocker carefully. He tried his best to not be too loud or too soft. He waited for a few minutes, admiring the heavy door-knocker. It was opened by a girl who he hadn’t seen before. She was dressed modestly. Probably a new slave girl, Ampelius thought to himself. It’s been over a year since he has visited the villa. As he walked in and stood in the courtyard, waiting to be summoned, he saw a few young slave girls running around carrying wine. It looked like there was a banquet going on. It made Ampelius hungry, he hadn’t eaten anything since noon. As he was imagining the kinds of food served in the banquet, the slave girl motioned him to one of the two rooms beside the courtyard. It was always the same room where Ampelius met Lucius’s publican who handled his finances. He knew the drill but today he was alone in the room. He carefully untied the money pouch from under his tunic and waited.
While he was waiting, he overheard a familiar voice from the other room.
“You have joined the right side my friend”, Lucius said.
“Tomorrow the fate of the republic will be changed, we will rebuild it on Caesar’s ashes”, Lucius continued.
Ampelius froze but decided to get closer to the wall.
“I can station my gladiators near the forum for protection, we need to ensure that Julius Caesar is dead”, another voice commanded.
“Yes, we are ready! Let’s celebrate the alliance with some wine. Senātus Populusque Rōmānus!”, Lucius thundered as they seemed to leave the other room.
Ampelius started to pace back and forth in the room. He didn’t know what to do. He had to tell someone, he couldn’t dare confront Lucius, or he would be executed. His thoughts were interrupted by the publican who entered the room.
“Name?”, the publican asked while wiping his wet hands on his toga.
“Ampelius”, Ampelius whimpered.
The publican sat down and gestured to him to drop his pouch towards him. As soon as Ampelius dropped the pouch on the table, the publican picked it up, emptied it, and started counting. Ampelius started to wonder if he was involved too. Who else was involved in this conspiracy? The publican threw the empty pouch at Ampelius and gestured with his hands to leave.
Ampelius darted out of the room and walked past the main door and sprinted downhill. He wasn’t paying attention to villas now and his thoughts concerns who to share this news with. It had to be a Caesar sympathizer who also had the reach. He was reminded of his client, Marius. A veteran of Legion X who had previously served under Caesar in the Gallic Wars. Marius could be trusted. If the news reached Caesar, the possible assassination could be averted. Ampelius could even be rewarded as a servant of Rome. Lucius, whose patronage protected him all these years, would be executed along with his family and conspirators. But should Ampelius even get involved? He was reminded of his father and his interest in the politics of Rome and how it ended for him. He might be treated as a co-conspirator since he is a blacksmith working for Lucius. He tried to look at the bigger picture, what it meant for Rome. The Roman lower class supported Caesar and could thrive under him, but Caesar had been making too many changes at once. He even wondered if he was Roman enough to care about the future of Rome.
Ampelius’s thoughts were racing as he reached Circus Maximus, the main stadium of Rome. He paused to gather his breath and saw the sun setting against the backdrop of the entrance. He looked up at the engraving on the top of the entrance - S.P.Q.R, Senātus Populusque Rōmānus: The Senate and People of Rome.