The Chapter of Tiberius
Writing a lighthearted story about Emperor Tiberius turned out to be harder than expected,
so I had Prefect Macro and his brother Drusus lend me a hand.
The protagonist barely speaks.
The Chapter of Tiberius
Far from Rome, on the island of Capri, stood the imperial palace.
The night sea spread out like a sheet of black cloth.
Each time the waves touched the rocks, they produced a heavy sound-
as if an army were marching in unison beneath that dark fabric.
“…Haaah.”
Macro, commander of the Praetorian Guard, let out a sigh.
Only the flames of the torches swayed in the sea breeze,
casting the stillness of the palace into sharp relief.
“What a troublesome report this is…”
Holding a small scrap of paper, he muttered to himself.
“But… if I stay silent and it’s discovered later, the consequences will be worse.”
He took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and cautiously made his way toward the hall where the aged emperor resided.
◆
“Your Majesty, if I may… please lend me your ear.
We have received word from Rome that certain ‘anonymous notes’ have been discovered.
They are nothing more than the idle scribblings of common citizens, however…
among them are phrases that are, regrettably, difficult to overlook.”
Emperor Tiberius: “I will hear them.”
Drusus: “He says to read them aloud, just like that.”
Though an unreal chill crept up his spine,
Macro straightened himself and replied.
“Yes! Then I shall read them.
Ah… just to be clear, I did not write these myself, you know?
Please don’t be angry with me… ahem.”
(Why does my voice always tremble at moments like this…)
The old emperor’s gaze pierced him, calm and cold as ice.
Macro instinctively stiffened, feeling even the tips of his fingers freeze as he held the paper.
(Reading aloud)
“We haven’t seen the emperor’s face for years.”
“But he never forgets to collect our taxes.”
The old emperor gently closed his eyes and tapped the armrest of his chair.
Drusus: “Heh, brother, they’re talking about you.”
The torchlight illuminating the emperor’s face stood thin and unwavering.
(Reading aloud)
“Those summoned to the island return with their souls hollowed out.”
“What on earth is he doing there?”
The old emperor did not move, like a statue carved from stone.
“Hahaha… they seem to have misunderstood Your Majesty somewhat…”
Tiberius cleared his throat softly.
“N-next one!”
(Reading aloud)
“Careful what you write, or you’ll be killed.”
“Huh? It’s anonymous, right? We’ll be fine.”
“Stupid emperor!”
The emperor’s eyebrow lifted slightly-then quietly returned to its place.
“It’s not me, I swear! I’m just reading it!”
Drusus: “Yeah, yeah, we know. Right, brother?”
The old emperor stared into the distance, as if the words had never reached his ears.
(Reading aloud)
“The best thing today was that no soldier knocked on my door.”
“It seems the citizens live in constant fear…”
The old emperor-did not move.
Even the presence of his breathing was faint, as he sat swallowed by darkness.
Drusus: “…The ones trembling aren’t just the citizens, brother.”
Tiberius: “…Ah…”
A thin sheen of sweat spread across Macro’s back.
What that “ah” meant-he had no idea.
(Reading aloud)
“Hold a gladiator game!”
“Shut-in emperor!”
The old emperor inhaled slowly-and exhaled just as slowly.
“It appears the people have long been starved of entertainment.”
Tiberius stared fixedly at Macro.
“Ah! But of course, entertainment isn’t necessary, right? Frugality, frugality!”
Drusus: “Honestly, I’d like to see a gladiator match myself.”
(Reading aloud)
“The emperor’s silence is terrifying.”
“I… agree-no! I mean, nothing at all!”
Drusus: “He’s always been like that. That’s why people misunderstand him.”
The old emperor’s eyes drifted far away; his lips moved ever so slightly.
(Was that a voice just now? No… surely not…)
His finger touched his chin once-then sank again into silence.
(And yet… even after becoming commander, I’ve come to fear silence itself…)
(Reading aloud)
“My husband was arrested by Prefect Sejanus and never returned.
He has since been executed. What am I to do now…?”
-That chain of events where even the emperor’s own kin were scorched by the flames…
Many say it was largely the work of the former prefect, Sejanus.
Drusus: “That bastard… yeah, unforgivable.”
“I-I will never betray you! Never, I swear!”
(Reading aloud)
“Poisoning General Germanicus-how cruel!”
“The general died of illness…”
The old emperor remained silent.
“Of illness… right…?”
The emperor lifted his face slightly.
(Please… say it was illness!)
Drusus: “It was illness. There’s no way my brother would kill my son, right?”
Note: Germanicus-nephew of Emperor Tiberius and hero of Rome.
His wife and surviving sons were later purged.
(Reading aloud)
“You’re living it up on our taxes, aren’t you?”
“Sink the whole island.”
“Well… if the people knew Your Majesty’s daily life,
many of these misunderstandings would surely fade.”
“…Enough. Next.”
The voice was low, as if echoing from the sea floor.
“(Eeep…)”
(Did Sejanus, too, once tremble like this at the beginning?)
(Reading aloud)
“Writing comedy is risking one’s life.
Put the wrong character in your play, and you’ll be taken away the next day.
Ah! I hate a rule that steals laughter!”
“Your Majesty isn’t that strict… right?”
Drusus: “At least let stories slide.”
The old emperor adjusted the cloth at his chest and spoke.
“…Order is important.”
“Exactlyyyyy!!! (My heart’s pounding…)”
(Reading aloud)
“Drop dead, Emperor!”
“…Shall we search for the author?”
“No. Unnecessary.”
(Reading aloud)
“I only pray that the heart of our beloved emperor may one day return to Rome.”
“D-did you just smile a little, Your Majesty?”
“You did, just now, didn’t you?”
The old emperor shot him a cold glance.
“S-sorry!”
(Reading aloud)
“My father was executed simply because he trusted the same man
Your Majesty once trusted.
We have now lost all faith.”
“…That does seem possible.
To become a traitor overnight… executed…
Father executed as well!? Why!?”
(Overnight traitor… execution… no, don’t think about it! Be strong, Macro!)
Drusus: “I feel for those who got caught in the crossfire.”
(Reading aloud)
“Your Majesty, are you getting a tan on Capri?”
“That’s quite a long vacation!”
The old emperor glanced briefly at the pale back of his own hand.
“Do they really think Your Majesty is idling away his days?
Provincial administration, infrastructure, border defense, disaster relief, economic stability, diplomacy…
They have no idea how busy you are.”
The emperor showed no reaction.
“You should appeal to the people more, Your Majesty.”
Drusus: “Yeah, if you don’t say it, they won’t know.”
“…Enough. It is pointless.”
(Reading aloud)
“Give us entertainment.”
“We’re bored.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Hold a gladiator game.”
“No, chariot races!”
“And legalize betting while you’re at it!”
Drusus: “What about just a gladiator game?”
“Unnecessary.”
“(Wow. Brutal.)”
(Reading aloud)
“I wish the tax collectors-and the emperor too-would all go live on that island.”
The emperor’s finger twitched ever so slightly.
“Hahaha, that’s a clever one, isn’t it?”
The emperor remained silent, only his eyes lifting a fraction.
“Haha… ha… (Silence is scary…)”
(Reading aloud)
“Please don’t kill Lord Caligula!”
“He is our last hope!”
“Lord Caligula is loyal and exceptionally intelligent.”
The emperor opened his mouth slightly.
“…Is he not?”
Then he closed it again.
Note: Caligula-third son of Germanicus.
(Reading aloud)
“Even when spring comes to Rome, our hearts remain in winter.”
“…Come to think of it, it is chilly tonight.
Especially with just the |two| of us here…”
(Reading aloud)
“-Burn this paper immediately after reading-”
“That concludes the text. Your Majesty, how shall we proceed?”
After a long silence, the old emperor pressed his palm to his temple,
then slowly lifted his face, fingers sliding away.
“…It matters not. Leave it be.”
“Yes! Then I shall leave it here. With your permission, I take my leave!”
◆
After exiting, the sound of the door closing behind him
finally released the tension from Macro’s spine.
“Phew…”
Relief gradually returned to his face.
(But… that was the voice of Rome as it is now…)
Walking down the corridor, Macro fanned his chest cloth.
(It seems His Majesty understands the voices of Rome all too well…)
◆
The old emperor held the scrap of paper.
-May Your Majesty’s heart return to Rome-
With aged fingers, he quietly traced only that single line.
Tiberius gazed at his reflection in the mirror.
He recalled the smile of his brother, with whom he once shared burdens on the battlefield.
“Drusus… if only you were still alive…”
That memory still lingered in his chest,
a faint warmth that had not yet faded.
“…Tomorrow as well, I will live for Rome.
No matter what anyone says-”
The rhythm of the waves sounded like the military music of old.
It was as if the emperor were still moving forward.
Only the wind blowing across the island knew the path of his steps.
-- End --
Tiberius, the second emperor of Rome, was a diligent and earnest man,
though he was never skilled at dealing with people.
He carried on the rule of the empire after Augustus and governed it effectively,
but in his later years his growing suspicion is often said to have clouded his reputation.
