And now, as if responding to these calls, in February 69 (bundles of spring flowers—humble violets—were being placed on the altar in the Domitians’ tomb), the news broke that Nero had revealed himself in the East—somewhere in Greece or Asia Minor. Yes, that Nero, our Nero, the true Nero: the same face and posture, the same hairstyle, quite long and loose at the back, and even his eyes were the same: grey and attentive, a little nearsighted. Of course, he played the kithara and sang beautifully. That he revealed himself in the Greek East was fully understandable. After all, he had always declared that he loved the Greeks most of all because only they could understand a truly great artist.

In the last years of his reign, Nero had traveled to Greece, restoring ancient games and visiting holy places, and in AD 66, he granted the country its freedom, which its inhabitants accepted with sincere enthusiasm. He would, therefore, have every right to expect that he would now be welcomed by them and receive whatever he desired.

It was good to talk politics like this in the taverns on the Tiber, calmly waiting for further developments, but the cunning and pusillanimous Greeks did not intend to take any risks. They did not rush to help this Nero. Neither those who believed that it really was their emperor returned nor those who didn’t but thought it beautiful and beneficial for him to return and rule again. No one did a thing to aid him, and—from the very beginning—most thought the man an impostor. Yes, he did manage to gather about himself a handful of runaway slaves and ordinary rogues, but they were the sort who had nothing to lose, and he promised them mountains of gold once he was back on the throne.

He took over a rickety ship and boldly sailed across the Aegean, aiming for some unknown destination. However, the storm soon drove him to the island of Kythnos in the Cyclades. There, he stopped out of necessity for a longer while. The island lay on an important sea route, connecting Greece with the coast of Asia Minor, and long-distance ships called there quite often, even in the winter season, which was not otherwise favorable for navigation. In particular, many soldiers on leave passed through here en route from Syria, Palestine, and Egypt for Italy, for no large-scale military operations were possible in the winter. Well, this Nero—what else do we call him?—intercepted these soldiers and inducted them into his bodyguard, and whoever refused disappeared without a trace. He also robbed merchants and liberated and armed their slaves.

Our hero, Titus, came close to meeting the (presumed) impostor and almost certainly heard about him—for that February, he traveled from Corinth to the East. He had been on his way to Rome to pay homage to emperor Galba, but, having arrived in Corinth and heard about the emperor’s death, he turned around. His mission had been to convey to Galba the message of loyalty of the Roman legions in Palestine and to deliver an update on the progress of the Jewish War. Galba’s death made his mission irrelevant.

Besides, Titus was eager to return to Syria because Queen Berenice waited for him there. Their love was no secret, and many thought it certain that love and not politics had changed the young man’s travel plans.

Fortunately for him—and for the neo-Nero—Titus had chosen the roundabout route, traveling along the Greek and Asian shores and bypassing Kythnos altogether. So, just as the alleged Nero appeared on Kythnos, the Roman aristocrat, who had often seen the real Nero up close, was already somewhere in Asia and heading for Cyprus.

By chance, centurion Sisenna found himself on Kythnos. He was traveling on a mission from the Syrian legions to the Praetorians in Rome. He had been dispatched in response to the news of Galba’s death. His task was to report his legions’ approval of the events in Rome and to deliver a gift secreted in his baggage. It would have been a great coup for the impostor Nero to gain Sisenna’s support. He realized this and spared no effort trying to convince Sisenna that he was the real deal. Prudent Sisenna pretended to take the masquerade at face value and fled the island at the first opportunity, not forgetting to take his luggage along. From then on, he spread the word about his extraordinary adventure, embellishing the story with many details. Thanks to his reports, the case gained publicity in Italy, causing many conflicting emotions. However, before the authorities could decide what to do in the matter, the danger passed as suddenly as it had appeared.

And it happened this way:

Galba had appointed a new governor of Galatia and Pamphylia, two provinces in Asia Minor, one Calpurnius Asprenas. When Otho took over, he did not withdraw the appointment, and Asprenas set off for his provinces in February. He had two ships from the naval base at Misenum in the Gulf of Naples for his escort. Sailing about the boot of Italy, he missed Sisenna and ordered his flotilla to anchor off the shore of Kythnos unawares, not noticing the small ship in the harbor.

As soon as he was told what kind of ships these were, Neo-Nero secretly invited their two captains on board his ship. He told them who he really was, what misfortunes had befallen him, and how he had cleverly managed to escape certain death in Rome by faking his own suicide and cremation. He mourned the terrible change in his fate, as a result of which he had lost everything—power, wealth, even his name!—but he remained the same person, the one and only true Nero, the only legitimate ruler of the Empire. But new opportunities were opening before him, and the empire, so tormented by recent upheavals, awaited his return. And now, fate brought him two Misenian ships!

Referring to the unwavering loyalty that the Misenian fleet had always shown him, the presumptive Nero asked the two captains to convey him to Syria or Egypt. Everything would change for the better as soon as he landed there. It was a small risk for them to take, and promised a fabulous reward if the gamble worked out.

It is puzzling how he knew that the sailors and soldiers of the Misenian fleet had been favorable to Nero, but it is true that in the last months of Nero’s reign, when the news of various rebellions came from everywhere, Nero had intended to form a new legion out of them to defend himself. Of course, some rumors of this could have reached the impostor accidentally, but it is difficult to completely rule out other assumptions, even the most unlikely.

The question also arises: why did he want to reach Syria or Egypt? Did he expect that the population and legions of those lands would defect to his side? Or perhaps he wanted to escape even further, beyond the borders of the Empire, to Parthia, Ethiopia, or India? We are at the gates of a fantasy.

The two captains listened carefully to the dramatic story, noted the beautiful promises, and replied that they agreed but had to communicate with their men first. They would come back immediately as soon as they gauged their mood. Alas, they did not go to their crews but directly to the governor. Asprenas did not waste time on negotiations and verification. The crews of the two ships, obeying his orders, attacked the “imperial” ship. The impostor was killed immediately. Asprenas took his severed head with him to Asia, and from there, he sent it to Rome, where people finally had the time to investigate who this Nero of Kythnos really had been. There were various theories. Some clues suggested had been one of Nero’s freedmen from Italy. Other clues seemed to lead to the shores of the Black Sea. But soon, momentous events shook Italy again, and the curious story of the Neo-Nero became an insignificant footnote.

---