"You didn't know this was a poison ring and you bit into it. You didn't suck out all the poison, but you got enough to give you a bellyache all the next day."
"So poor old Nero had his revenge after all," he said, wincing at the memory.
"He deserves more!" I shouted. "Cato, bring the whip!"
"You don't own a whip, master," Cato said. I turned to face him.
"Yes, I do. A great, nasty-looking flagrum with bronze studs along all the thongs. My father gave it to me when I set up in my own house. Where is it?"
"You lost it in a dice game years ago," Cato said.
His wife, Cassandra, appeared in the doorway. "Will you all stop yelling? The neighbors will think we're disorderly. I'm trying to get dinner together. Nobody's going to whip any slaves in this house, master. Cato's too old and you're too softhearted."
"Oh, let's go back out to the atrium," I said, disgusted. "It's too crowded in here." I could swear that I saw Julia masking a smile. I examined the bronze tube. The wax seal over its cap was broken. Back in the atrium, Julia and I took chairs while Hermes, temporarily reprieved, stood nervously shifting from one foot to the other.
"You've been into this, I see," I said, holding up the tube.
"I thought there might be something valuable in it," Hermes said. "But it was just a roll of paper."
"That is because this is a message tube. And did you read the message?"
"How could I? I can't read."
"And did it not occur to you that Nero might not have come to kill me, but rather to bring me a message?"
"Did it occur to you?" he said insolently.
I sighed. "I really must purchase another flagrum and a strong, stupid, stony-hearted slave to wield it."
"If I'd know it was for you, I'd have brought it immediately, master," Hermes mumbled.
"What does it say?" Julia urged impatiently.
I slipped the paper from the tube and unrolled it. The letter was written in a fine, aristocratic hand, the sort that our schoolmasters whip into us at an early age, but the formation of some of the letters was a trifle shaky, the sign of a writer in a state of emotional distress. The grammar was impeccable, but the phrasing was a bit awkward. One did not expect literary elegance from a Claudian. I began to read aloud.
[To the Senator Decimus]: a misspelling, but a common one, since my praenomen is extremely rare, while Decimus is not: [Caecilius Metellus the Younger:
[I dare not set my name to this, but you will know who I am. When I came to Rome to live, I sought only the support and patronage of my family to begin and pursue my career. Instead, I have become involved in matters that terrify me; matters involving murder, conspiracy and, I think, treason.
Upon my arrival, my kinsman Publius Clodius made much of me, and much of his own glowing future, persuading me to take service as one of his followers. Greatly flattered, I agreed. He entrusted me with matters of some sensitivity, some of them of questionable legality. He continually assured me that this was the way things were done in modern Roman political life.
For more than a month, Clodius hinted about a crucially important meeting he was arranging. All month, he met many times with Caius Julius Caesar, with Marcus Licinius Crassus Dives, and on several occasions I accompanied him to the camp of Cnaeus Pompeius Magnus to confer with the general.
All this time, Clodius showed the greatest signs of merriment, and behaved as if he were maneuvering these powerful men at his own will, into his own power. "I'll control them all," he told me on more than one occasion. How he was to accomplish this I could not imagine.
After his last meeting with Pompey, Clodius came away greatly agitated. When I asked him why he was so upset, he said that the general had required of him that he kill the son of the Censor Metellus, who had just returned to Rome. I had heard him speak many times, very bitterly, of this man and asked why he was so displeased with the commission. He said it was because it was at Pompey's behest rather than for his own satisfaction, and that Pompey had required that the deed be accomplished with poison so that it might appear that his enemy died of natural causes.]
"I told you," said Hermes.
"Quiet," I said, and continued reading.
[Clodius sent me to the herb-woman Purpurea to procure the poison. I had been sent to her before, to borrow from her a purple gown, for an unexplained reason. You encountered me just as I left her booth with the poison. Dutifully, I took the poison to Clodius. Then he horrified me by telling me that I was to administer the poison myself! He had discovered that you were to have dinner at the house of Mamercus Capito, and had managed to secure an invitation to the same dinner. I was to take his place, giving the excuse that he could not eat at the same table as you, his mortal enemy.
I protested, and he grew enraged. Then he all but knelt to beg me to perform this deed. He said that all his plans hinged upon keeping the goodwill of Pompey for this little time, and if I would do this for him I would have his eternal gratitude, and he would make me second only to himself in Rome. At last I agreed. Nobody could be more relieved than I that I failed.]
"That was my doing," Hermes said to Julia. "I saved his life."
"I'm keeping that in mind, Hermes," I said. "Perhaps I'll get a flagrum without the bronze studs."
[After the assemblage broke up upon the death of Capito,] I continued reading, [in which I swear before all the gods I had no involvement, I called for my slaves and left. Thinking I had murdered you, I could not bear to face Clodius, and fled instead to my kinswoman Clodia, at the house of Metellus Celer.
The next day I spent in the temples and the Forum, consumed with guilty agitation. You cannot imagine the relief I felt when I saw you before the Curia, very much alive and conferring with Cicero and Lucullus. I resolved to have nothing further to do with Clodius and went to his house to tell him so. He was displeased that I had failed, but merely said that we would have to try another time. He was far too preoccupied with the meeting planned for that night to concern himself with you. I told him that I did not wish to engage in further dealings with him, but he merely brushed my protestations aside, saying that I would overcome such childish scruples as I gained sophistication in Roman politics. At last I agreed, but I would do nothing unlawful.
Clodius laughed and called me his friend, and assured me that the night's doings would be more in the nature of a lark. I was to take the purple dress and another woman's gown and veil to the camp of Pompey, where, to my amazement, the general and Faustus Sulla were to don them and return with me to the city after sunset. I was to tell the watch at the gate that these were two ladies from a country estate coming to the city for the rites of the Good Goddess. My patrician insignia would assure compliance.
I did as instructed, although the experience was most bizarre. In the Forum we were joined by Clodius, also in women's attire, and two other men similarly clad. They mingled with the crowd of highborn ladies entering the house of the Pontifex Maximus and went inside.
I loitered about the Forum for several hours, until I heard a great commotion from inside. Clodius came running out of the house, stripped almost naked and pursued by a mob of women, screaming like furies. I threw my toga over him and we ducked down an alley and ran back to his house. All the way, Clodius was laughing like a madman, with tears of glee streaming from his eyes.
At the house he called for wine and began to drink heavily, without watering the wine. Soon he was quite drunk and boasting so loudly that I dismissed the household staff, lest they overhear. He said that now all his ambitions would be realized, and I asked him to explain, still under the impression that the night's doings had been no more than a prank.
He said that the three men who were to rule Rome had met at the house of Caesar and had determined upon the future course of the empire and that he, Clodius, had arranged all this. The two most powerful, Pompey and Crassus, could never work together and their rivalry would plunge the empire into civil war. Clodius believed that Caesar was greater than the other
two, and had urged him to agree to this meeting, where their rivalries could be hammered out to the profit of all.
This seemed fantastic to me, and I asked him what he meant by it. He replied that he, Clodius, had perceived that Crassus and Pompey were too unimaginative to settle their differences save through battle; that Caesar, while brilliant and masterful, was too lazy to set a reconciliation in motion, and that all three were too bound by traditional forms to do as Sulla did, and set aside the constitution.
At the meeting in Caesar's house, Clodius said, the Pontifex Maximus bound them all by the most solemn oaths to abide by the conditions of their covenant, and the agreement they made was this:]
"Now we get to the heart of the matter," I said.
"Stop commenting and read!" Julia said, obviously in a state of considerable agitation, which I humored.
[To begin, since Caesar must be away in Spain for his pro-praetorship, and would not be in Rome to moderate between the other two, they were to comport themselves as friendly colleagues in his absence. Upon his return, their three-man coalition would begin to work in earnest to further the ambitions of all three. In token of his support, Crassus was to stand surety for Caesar's debts so that Caesar could leave Rome to assume his magistracy. Pompey required, apparently in fulfillment of an earlier, less formal agreement, that the other two be seen prominently in his triumph so that all might know that he enjoyed their wholehearted support.
Caesar's reward was to be a Consulship upon his return from Spain, and following it an extraordinary magistracy over all of Gaul. All would work to secure Crassus the war with Parthia that he desires. Pompey was to have whatever command he desires aside from Gaul and Parthia.
Since these projects would require that all three be absent from Rome for extended periods, Clodius was to be their representative in the city. They would support his suit for transferral to plebeian status, and thereafter support his campaign for the tribuneship. As tribune, he would introduce laws in furtherance of their own ambitions. As popular leader, he would reign as virtual uncrowned king of the city, and they would protect him from action by the Senate. Pompey, regarding himself as the greatest of the three, insisted that Faustus Sulla act as the colleague of Clodius to assure that Pompey's interests were properly looked after in his absence. Although reluctant, Clodius assented. With these agreements made, the meeting broke up.
As they were leaving, Clodius went into the main part of the house to spy on the Mysteries, although Pompey tried to restrain him. When he was detected, the others made their way out amid the ensuing uproar.
Clodius related all this in highest humor, apparently expecting that I would admire his cunning. Horrified, I asked him, What of the constitution? What of the Senate? Scornfully, he said that the Senate was an outdated pack of nonentities and the constitution was what the strongest man said it was.
Understanding that I was involved in a treasonous conspiracy to overthrow the state, I fled the house of Clodius. I found lodgings in a small tavern and spent all the next day and all of this fearing that, sober, Clodius will understand that he said far too much to me and will seek me out. All his men know me by sight, and I dare do nothing until after dark. I have written this letter, which I propose to affix to the door of your house. Then I shall flee Rome and never return. It is now dark, and I shall leave my lodgings as soon as I seal the message tube. Do with these words as you see fit. The Senate must take action. Long live Rome.]
"That poor boy!" Julia said when I had finished reading.
"Yes," I agreed, "he was guilty of no more than bad company and owning a wretched prose style. But he has given me exactly what I need."
"How will you use this?" she asked.
"With this," I said, holding the letter aloft, "I can bring them all down. First, it will hold them all up to ridicule, as undoubtedly Clodius intended when he concocted this bizarre plan. Can you imagine it? The great conqueror, he richest man in the world and the very Pontifex Maximus all skulking about the city dressed as women! They could never survive the ridicule! Even more important, though, is the fact that Pompey was there at all."
"What do you mean?" Julia asked.
"He entered the city, crossing the pomerium. At that instant he laid down his imperium and forfeited his right to celebrate a triumph!"
"I don't understand," Julia said. "The Senate had already granted him permission for his triumph."
"It makes no difference. They could have given him permission a year ago, when he was still in Asia. No Roman with imperium may enter the city save as triumphator on the day of his triumph. This will be a humiliation he cannot endure."
"I don't believe it!" Julia said, jumping to her feet. "Caius Julius is not a traitor, and he would have no part in such a loathsome conspiracy!"
"Julia," I said, holding the scroll before her face, "do you really think that naive boy made all this up?"
"No, of course not," she said, relenting a little. "But Clodius might have. We all know what a villain he is. Pompey and Crassus, of course, but Clodius may have added Caesar's name to make his scheme sound greater than it is."
"Julia, I know that Caesar was not in Celer's house that night, and all Rome knows that Clodius was discovered in the house of Caesar. He was there."
She wrung her hands, seeking any way she could to extricate her uncle from treasonous charges. "But even Clodius said that he enjoined the other two to do nothing while he is away from Rome. Perhaps he just meant to keep them from committing civil mischief in his absence."
"Perhaps you are right," I said, knowing that she was not. Because it had come to me, while reading the letter, that every bit of this scheme was Caesar's doing. Oh, maybe the business of dressing as women had been Clodius's, it was the sort of madcap whimsy that would appeal to him, but the rest was Caesar's. Tricking Pompey into crossing the pomerium before his triumph put him, the most powerful of the three, firmly into the grasp of the other conspirators. That was Caesar's brand of subtlety. Getting Crassus to stand surety for his debts neatly accomplished a number of his ends at one stroke, another favorite technique of his.
Most of all, though, Caesar had tied the two most powerful men in the world to him, had solved his own debt problems, assured that Rome would be tranquil in his absence, secured a Consulship upon his return and a rich province to govern afterward and even his co-conspirators' patronage for his flunky Clodius. And he had accomplished all this while providing absolutely nothing of his own. This was another quality of Caesar's with which I was familiar. He could persuade men to give him what he wanted as if he were doing them a favor. It seemed that now he wanted to be given the world, just for being Caesar.
For I had no doubt of what this signified. These three men (Clodius and Faustus did not count) had met in conspiracy to divide the world among them. And over bullheaded, overgrown juvenile thugs like Pompey and Crassus, Caesar would rule, shining like a god. Caesar was an actor, and this was the ultimate actor's role. If the Senate allowed this to happen, the Senate would deserve whatever might befall it.
"I shall make this public," I vowed. "I shall take this before the Senate and People, and I shall bring them down."
"Excuse me, master," Hermes said, "but do you really expect to live that long?"
Chapter XIII
It was a long wait until nightfall. Several times I went out on my roof and crawled on my belly to peer over the parapet. The deserted street before my house made it easy to spot the shadows lurking in nearby doorways. At least two were visible each time: men in long brown Etruscan robes, with pointed beards.
"Still out there," I said after the last scout. "But people are coming back from the festivities now. We'll have crowded, darkening streets soon, and then I can make my move. Hermes, I want you to go to Milo's house."
"Through those streets?" he squealed.
"Of course not. What Roman boy needs streets when there are perfectly good rooftops? Choose your route carefully, and you can get from here to Milo's without
your feet touching ground. There aren't three streets in Rome too wide to jump across. I want you to tell Milo that I need a strong bodyguard to escort me across the city and the lady Julia to her home. This is most serious and there are armed murderers after us. Now, be off with you." Pale-faced, he went up the stairs to do my bidding. For a wretched corpse-robber of a slave, the boy had promise.
Julia sat shaking her head, the picture of despondency. It grieved me to see her so, but my duty to the Senate and People outweighed her loyalty to her uncle.
"Oh, don't feel so bad, Julia," I said. "If I know Caius Julius, he'll get out of this as he does everything else. It's Pompey whose hide I want to nail to the Curia door."
"And what of Crassus?" she said dully.
"He'll buy off his jury. Remember, they haven't really done anything yet. The laws concerning conspiracy, even the treasonous sort, are notoriously vague. Only Cicero could bring a strong prosecution against them, and he won't dare, since he faces exile over his handling of the Catilinarians.
"No, for Caesar and Crassus, the best I can hope for is public ridicule. The picture of them meeting in women's dress will catch the public's fancy like nothing else in history. The comic playwrights will put the scene on every stage in Italy for years to come. But Pompey tried to have me poisoned, and I want him."
"Not to mention his plotting against the state," she said dryly.
I shrugged. "He hasn't a chance. For whatever reason, he's already forgone the opportunity to make himself Dictator by force of arms, when he could easily have done so as recently as last year. Now he wants to play politics, and I must agree with Cicero that he's too stupid and inept politically to accomplish anything that way. If he survives at all, it could only be with Caesar's expertise and Crassus's wealth. Without his army, he couldn't even carry out one trifling little assassination."
"And to what do you attribute your extraordinary good fortune?" she asked.
"Conspirators like to keep their own hands clean by entrusting their dirty work to subordinates. Unworthy or inept subordinates can ruin almost any conspiracy. Pompey wanted me out of the way because he knew that I was the one man in Rome most likely to uncover and expose what he and the others were up to. He wanted to make it look natural, so he opted for poison. He gave the job to Clodius, but among infamous crimes, poisoning is second only to arson, so Clodius farmed it out to Nero. That was no task for an amateur, and Nero bungled it.
The Sacrilege s-3 Page 20
