BRUNDISIUM TO ROME
Caesar's sources of information and his intelligence network were as efficient as Pompey's were inefficient, nor did his squad of couriers dally to visit aged aunts or taverns or whores. When Pompey and his last two legions sailed away, Caesar thought no more of them. First he would deal with Italia. Then he would deal with Spain. Only after that would he think again of Pompey and his Grand Army of the Republic. With him he now had the Thirteenth Legion, the Twelfth and the very fine old Eighth, plus three over-strength legions composed of Pompeian recruits, plus three hundred horse troopers who had ridden from Noricum to serve him. That last came as a pleasant surprise. Noricum lay to the north of Illyricum and was not a Roman province, though its fairly Romanized tribes worked closely with eastern Italian Gaul; Noricum produced the best iron ore for steel and exported it down the rivers which ran into the Adriatic from Italian Gaul. Along these rivers was the series of little towns which Brutus's grandfather Caepio had established to work that magical Norican iron ore into the world's finest blade steel. For many years now Caesar had been the best customer those towns knew, therefore by association of immense value to Noricum. Not to mention that he was also greatly loved by Italian Gaul and Illyricum because he had always administered these provinces superbly and stood up for the rights of those who lived on the far side of the Padus River. The three hundred Norican horse troopers were very welcome; as three hundred good men were enough for any campaign Caesar expected to have to wage in Italia, the Noricans meant that he didn't have to send to Further Gaul for German cavalry. By the time he commenced to backtrack from Brundisium up the peninsula toward Campania, he knew many things. That Ahenobarbus and Lentulus Spinther were no sooner out of sight than they were planning to organize fresh resistance. That word of his clemency at Corfinium had spread faster than a fire in dry woodland, and done more to damp the panic in Rome than anything else could have. That neither Cato nor Cicero had left Italia with Pompey, and that Gaius Marcellus Minor had also elected to remain, though in hiding. That Manius Lepidus the consular and his eldest son, also pardoned at Corfinium, were planning to take their seats in the Senate in Rome if Caesar required them. That Lucius Volcatius Tullus also intended to sit in Caesar's Senate. And that the consuls had neglected to empty the Treasury. But the one person who most preyed on Caesar's mind as he entered Campania toward the end of March was Cicero. Though he had written again to Cicero personally, and though both the Balbi and Oppius were bombarding Cicero with letters, that stubborn, shortsighted fellow would not co-operate. No, he wouldn't return to Rome! No, he wouldn't take his seat in the Senate! No, he wouldn't commend Caesar's clemency in public, no matter how much he praised it in private! No, he didn't believe Atticus any more than he believed the Balbi or Oppius! Three days before the end of March, Caesar made it impossible for Cicero to avoid a meeting any longer; he was staying at the villa belonging to Philippus at Formiae, and Cicero's villa was just next door. "I am commanded!" said Cicero wrathfully to Terentia. "As if I haven't got enough on my mind! Tiro so dreadfully ill, and my son coming of age I want to be in Arpinum for that, not here in Formiae! Oh, why can't I dispense with my lictors? And look at my eyes! It takes my man half an hour each morning to sponge them open, they're so stuck together with muck!" "Yes, you do look a sight," said Terentia, not moved to spare her husband's feelings. "However, best to get it over and done with, I say. Once the wretched man has seen you, he might leave you alone." So off grumped Cicero clad in purple-bordered toga, preceded by his lictors and their laurel-wreathed fasces. Philippus's huge villa resembled nothing so much as a country fairground, with soldiers' tents everywhere, people rushing around, and such a crowd inside that the great advocate was moved to wonder whereabouts Philippus and his awkward guest laid their own heads. But there was Caesar ye Gods, the man never changed! How long was it? Nine years and more, though if Magnus hadn't cheated and sneaked off alone to Luca just after casually popping in to say goodbye, he might have set eyes on Caesar at Luca. However, thought Cicero, subsiding into a chair and accepting a goblet of watered Falernian, he had changed. The eyes had never been warm, but now they were chillingly cold. He had always radiated power, but never of this magnitude. He could always intimidate, but never with such staggering ease. I behold a mighty king! thought Cicero with a thrill of horror. He outstrips Mithridates and Tigranes combined. The man oozes an innate majesty! "You look tired," Caesar commented. "Also half blind." "An inflammation of the eyes. It comes and goes. But you're right, I'm tired. That's why it's bad at the moment." "I need your counsel, Marcus Cicero." "A most regrettable business," said Cicero, searching for some suitably banal words. "I agree. Yet, since it has happened, we must deal with it. It's necessary that I proceed like a cat among eggs. For instance, I can't afford to offend anyone. Least of all you." Caesar leaned forward and produced his most charming smile; it reached his eyes. "Won't you help me put our beloved Republic on her feet again?" "Since you're the one who knocked her off her feet in the first place, Caesar, no, I won't!" said Cicero tartly. The smile left the eyes but remained glued to the lips. "I didn't do the knocking, Cicero. My opponents did. It afforded me no pleasure or sense of power to cross the Rubicon. I did so to preserve my dignitas after my enemies made a mockery of it." "You're a traitor," said Cicero, course determined. The mouth was as straight as its generous curves permitted. "Cicero, I didn't ask you to see me to argue with you. I've asked for your counsel because I value it. For the moment, let's leave the subject of the so-called government in exile and discuss the here and now Rome and Italia, who have passed into my care. It is my vowed intention to treat both those ladies who, in my own opinion, are one and the same with great tenderness. You must be aware that I've been absent for many years. You must therefore be aware that I need guidance." "I'm aware that you're a traitor!" The teeth showed. "Stop being so obtuse!" "Who's obtuse?" asked Cicero, splashing his wine. " 'You must be aware' that's the language of kings, Caesar. You state the obvious as if it were not obvious. The whole population of this peninsula is 'aware' that you've been away for years!" The eyes closed; two bright red spots burned in those ivory cheeks. Cicero knew the signs, and shivered involuntarily. Caesar was going to lose his temper. The last time he did that, Cicero found that he had made Publius Clodius into a plebeian. Oh well, the boats were burned. Let him lose his temper! He did not. After a moment the eyes opened. "Marcus Cicero, I am on my way to Rome, where I intend to have the Senate summoned. I want you to be present in the Senate. I want you to assist me in calming the People down and getting the Senate working again." "Huh!" snorted Cicero. "The Senate! Your Senate, you mean! You know what I'd tell the Senate if I were present, don't you?" "As a matter of fact, no, I do not. Enlighten me." "I'd ask the Senate to decree that you be forbidden to go to Spain, with or without an army. I'd ask the Senate to decree that you be forbidden to go to Greece or Macedonia, with or without an army. I'd ask the Senate to chain you hand and foot inside Rome until the real Senate was on its benches and could decree that you be sent for trial as a traitor!" Cicero smiled sweetly. "After all, Caesar, you're a stickler for the proper procedure, aren't you? We can't possibly execute you without trial!" "You're daydreaming, Cicero," said Caesar, well in control. "It won't happen that way. The real Senate has absconded. Which means that the only Senate available is the one I choose to make." "Oh!" cried Cicero, putting down his goblet with a clang. "There speaks the king! Oh, what am I doing here? My poor, sad Pompeius! Cast out of home, city, country now there's a man, Caesar, would make ten of you!" "Pompeius," said Caesar deliberately, "is a nothing. What I sincerely hope is that I am not forced to demonstrate his nothingness to you in a way you won't be able to ignore." "You really do think you can beat him, don't you?" "I know I can beat him, Cicero. But I hope not to have to, that's what I'm saying. Won't you put aside your absurd fantasies and look reality in the eye? The only genuine soldier pitted against me is Titus Labienus, yet he's a nothing too. The last thing I want is an outright war. Have
n't I made that apparent so far? Men have not been dying, Cicero. The amount of blood I've shed thus far is minuscule. And there are men like Ahenobarbus and Lentulus Spinther men I pardoned, Cicero! free to thump their tubs all over Etruria in defiance of their sworn word!" "That," said Cicero, "is it encapsulated, Caesar. Men you pardoned. By what right? By whose authority? You're a king and you think like a king. Your imperium was terminated, you are no more and no less than an ordinary consular senator and that only because the real Senate didn't declare you hostis! Though the moment you crossed the Rubicon into Italia, under our constitution you became a traitor an outlaw hostis! A fig for your pardons! They're meaningless." "I will try," said Caesar, drawing a deep breath, "just one more time, Marcus Cicero. Will you come to Rome? Will you take your seat in the Senate? Will you give me counsel?" "I will not come to Rome. I will not sit in your Senate. I will not give you counsel," said Cicero, heart tripping. For a moment Caesar said nothing. Then he sighed. "Very well. I see. Then I leave you with this, Cicero. Think it over very carefully. To continue to defy me isn't wise. Truly, it is not wise." He got to his feet. "If you won't give me decent and learned advice, then I'll find said advice wherever I can." The eyes were frozen as they looked Cicero up and down. "And I will go to any length that advice says I must." He turned and vanished, leaving Cicero to find his own way out, both hands pressed against his midriff, working at the knot which threatened to asphyxiate him. "You were right," said Caesar to Philippus, reclining at his ease in the room he had somehow managed to retain for his own use. "He refused." "He more than refused." A smile flashed, genuine amusement. "Poor old rabbit! I could see his heart knocking at his ribs through every fold in his toga. One must admire his courage, for it's unnatural in him, poor old rabbit. I do wish he'd see reason! I can't dislike him, you know, even at his silliest." "Well," said Philippus comfortably, "you and I can always fall back on our ancestors for consolation. He has none, and that hurts him very much." "I suppose that's why he can never manage to divorce himself from Pompeius. To Cicero, life for me has been a sinecure. I have the birthright. Pompeius is more to his liking in that respect. Pompeius demonstrates that ancestors are not necessary. What I wish Cicero would see is that birthright can become a handicap. Were I a Picentine Gaul like Pompeius, half those idiots who've fled across the Adriatic wouldn't have gone. I couldn't make myself King of Rome. Whereas, they think, a Julian could." He sighed, sat down on the edge of the couch opposite Philippus. "Truly, Lucius, I have absolutely no wish to be King of Rome. I simply want my entitlements. If they'd only acceded to those, none of this would ever have happened." "Oh, I understand fully," said Philippus, yawning delicately. "I also believe you. Who in his right mind would want to king it over a litigious, cantankerous, self-willed lot of Romans?" The boy walked unselfconsciously into the midst of their laughter and waited politely until they were done. Startled by his sudden appearance, Caesar stared, frowned. "I know you," he said, patting the couch next to him. "Sit down, great-nephew Gaius Octavius." "I would rather," said Gaius Octavius, "be your son, Uncle Caesar." He sat down, turned himself on his side, and produced an enchanting smile. "You've grown a few feet, nevvy," said Caesar. "The last time I saw you, you were still unsteady on your pins. Now it rather looks as if your balls are dropping. How old are you?" "Thirteen." "So you'd like to be my son, eh? Isn't that somewhat of an insult to your stepfather here?" "Is it, Lucius Marcius?" "Thank you, I have two sons of my own. I'll gladly give you to Caesar." "Who doesn't honestly have the time or the inclination for a son. I'm afraid, Gaius Octavius, that you'll have to continue to be my great-nephew." "Couldn't you at least make it nephew?" "I don't see why not." The boy curled his feet up under him. "I saw Marcus Cicero leaving. He didn't look happy." "With good reason," said Caesar grimly. "Do you know him?" "Only to recognize. But I've read all his speeches." "And what do you think of them?" "He's a marvelous liar." "Do you admire that?" "Yes and no. Lies have their uses, but it's foolish to base one's whole career on them. I won't, anyway." "So what will you base your career on, nephew?" "Keeping my own counsel. Saying less than I'm thinking. Not making the same mistake twice. Cicero is governed by his tongue; it runs away with him. That makes him impolitic, I think." "Don't you want to be a great military man, Gaius Octavius?" "I would love to be a great military man, Uncle Caesar, but I don't think I have the gift of it." "Nor do you intend to base your career on your tongue, it seems. But can you rise to the heights keeping your own counsel?" "Yes, if I wait to see what other people do before I act myself. Extravagance," said the boy thoughtfully, "is a genuine flaw. It means one is noticed, but it also collects enemies like a fleece no, that's incorrect grammar as a fleece does burrs." Caesar's eyes had crinkled up at their corners, but he kept his mouth straight. "Do you mean extravagance or flamboyance?" "Extravagance." "You're carefully tutored. Do you go to school, or learn at home?" "At home. My pedagogue is Athenodorus Cananites of Tarsus." "And what do you think of flamboyance?" "Flamboyance suits flamboyant people. It suits you, Uncle Caesar, because" his brow furrowed "because it's a part of your nature. But there will never be another like you, and what applies to you does not apply to other men." "Including you?" "Oh, definitely." The wide grey eyes gazed up adoringly. "I am not you, Uncle Caesar. I never will be. But I do intend to have my own style." "Philippus," said Caesar, laughing, "I insist that this boy be sent to me as contubernalis the moment he turns seventeen!"
Caesar took up residence on the Campus Martius (in Pompey's deserted villa) at the end of March, determined not to cross the pomerium into the city; it was no part of his plans to behave as if he admitted he had lost his imperium. Through Mark Antony and Quintus Cassius, his tribunes of the plebs, he convoked the Senate to meet in the temple of Apollo on the Kalends of April. After which he settled down to confer with Balbus and his nephew Balbus Minor, Gaius Oppius, his old friend Gaius Matius, and Atticus. "Who is where?" he asked, of anyone. "Manius Lepidus and his son returned to Rome after you pardoned them at Corfinium, and I gather are debating whether to take their seats in the Senate tomorrow," said Atticus. "Lentulus Spinther?" "Sulking at his villa near Puteoli. He may end in going to Pompeius across the water, but I doubt he'll raise fresh resistance against you in Italia," said Gaius Matius. "It seems two tastes of Ahenobarbus were enough for Lentulus Spinther first Corfinium, then Etruria. He's ended in preferring to go to earth." "And Ahenobarbus?" Balbus Minor answered. "He chose the Via Valeria back to Rome after Corfinium, skulked at Tibur for a few days, then went to Etruria. He's been recruiting there with considerable success. The man is inordinately wealthy, of course, and withdrew his funds from Rome before before you crossed the Rubicon," "In fact," said Caesar levelly, "one would have to say that the intemperate Ahenobarbus acted more prudently and logically than any of the others. Save for his decision to remain in Corfinium." "True," said Balbus Minor. "And what does he intend to do with his Etrurian recruits?" "He's gathered two small fleets, one in Cosa harbor and one on the island of Igilium. From which," said Balbus Minor, "it seems he intends to quit Italia. Probably to go to Spain. I've been traveling extensively in Etruria, and that's the rumor." "How is Rome?" Caesar asked Atticus. "Much calmer after the news of your clemency at Corfinium, Caesar. Also once everyone began to realize that you're not slaughtering soldiers in the field. As civil wars go, it's being said, this is a remarkably bloodless one." "Let us keep offering to the Gods that it remains bloodless." "The trouble is," said Gaius Matius, remembering days when two little boys played together in the courtyard of Aurelia's insula, "that your enemies don't have the same objectivity. I doubt any of them except Pompeius himself, perhaps cares how much blood is shed, provided you're brought down." "Oppius, tell me all about Cato." "He's gone to Sicily, Caesar." "Well, he was appointed its governor." "He was, but he's not well liked by the majority of those senators who stayed in Rome after you crossed the Rubicon. So they got around Cato's governorship by deciding to appoint a man specifically to secure the grain supply. They chose, of all people, Luc
ius Postumius. But Postumius declined the commission. Asked why, he expressed unease at supplanting Cato, still the titular governor. They begged him to go. Finally he said he would provided Cato came with him. Naturally Cato didn't want the job. He doesn't like being out of Italia, as we all know. However, Postumius stood firm, so in the end Cato agreed to go too. After which his Ape, Favonius, offered to accompany him." Caesar listened to this with a smile. "Lucius Postumius, eh? Ye Gods, they have an inspired ability to pick the wrong men! A more precious, pedantic and fiddling man I don't know." "You're absolutely right," said Atticus. "The moment he had the commission, he refused to leave for Sicily! Wouldn't budge until young Lucius Caesar and Lucius Roscius came back with your terms. After that he refused to sail until Publius Sestius returned with your answer to Pompeius's terms." "Dear, dear. So when did this wonderful little clutch of hens finally depart?" "Midway through February." "With any troops, since there's no legion in Sicily?" "Absolutely none. The understanding was that Pompeius would ship twelve cohorts of Ahenobarbus's troops to them, but you know what happened to that. Every man Pompeius possesses has gone to Dyrrachium." "They haven't thought very much about the welfare of Rome, have they?" Gaius Matius shrugged. "They didn't need to, Caesar. They know you won't see Rome or Italia starve." "Well, at least taking Sicily shouldn't present any great difficulties," said Caesar, acknowledging the truth of Matius's statement. He raised his brows to the older Balbus. "I find it hard to credit, but is it really true that no one emptied the Treasury?" he asked. "Absolutely true, Caesar. It's stuffed with bullion." "I hope it's stuffed with coin too." "You'll garnish the Treasury?" asked Gaius Matius. "I have to, oldest friend. Wars cost money, staggering amounts of it, and civil wars don't bring booty in their train." "But surely," said Balbus Minor, frowning, "you don't mean to drag thousands of wagons of gold, silver and coins with you wherever you go?" "Ah, you're thinking that I don't dare to leave it in Rome," said Caesar, very relaxed. "However, that's exactly what I'll do. Why should I not? Pompeius has to climb over the top of me before he can enter Rome he abandoned her. All I'll remove is what I need for the moment. About a thousand talents in coin, if there's that much there. I'll have to fund a war in Sicily and Africa as well as my own campaign in the West. But one thing you can count on, Minor I won't relinquish control of the Treasury once it's mine. And by mine, I mean establishing myself and those senators still in Rome as the legitimate government." "Do you think you can do that?" asked Atticus. "I sincerely hope so," said Caesar.
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