The Sacrilege s-3

by John Maddox Roberts

  "When Clodius came to his senses after his sacrilege, he knew that Nero would try to warn me, so he sent his Etruscan assassins to keep an eye on my house. When Nero showed up, they killed him."

  "Why didn't they find the message-tube?" she asked.

  "It was the inept-subordinate problem again. Clodius, like the others, is a conspirator of long experience. Such men know that the first rule of conspiracy is never to put anything in writing. It never occurred to him that the little twit would bring me a letter instead of delivering his message personally. He told his goons to kill the boy, but not to search him for an incriminating document."

  "And the herb-woman?"

  "A bit of track-covering. She knew about the poison; she knew that her dress had been borrowed so that someone could take her place at the Mysteries. That was too much for her to know with an investigation going on, so she was eliminated."

  Julia shuddered. "Such ruthless people."

  "I assure you, this is a small-scale naughtiness by these men's standards. They routinely depopulate countries to further their aims. Not that I mind kicking the barbarians around a bit when the good of Rome calls for it, but it's not right to make war on people just to give one man's career a boost."

  During this time, I had been going over my weapons. My gladius was legionary size, a bit large for concealed carry, but I was no longer concerned with niceties. I assured myself that its edge would still slice a straw without effort and belted it on. I tucked my dagger into its usual place, and this time, just in case, I concealed both caesti instead of my usual one.

  "Stay away from the river," Julia warned. "If you should fall in, you're sure to drown, carrying all that metal."

  "Thank you for your concern," I said, distracted by my own thoughts.

  "I would like to remind you," Julia said, red spots appearing on her cheeks most fetchingly, "that I came here for the express purpose of warning you that your life was in danger, at no little peril to myself. I might add that I am doing my reputation no good by coming, unescorted, to the house of an unmarried man, and staying here until who knows what hour, under the eyes of spies. If I should get back to my uncle's house alive, my grandmother will undoubtedly be waiting like a dragon. She will undoubtedly order me flogged, and believe me, she knows where the family whip is. After that, I shall be exiled to one of those barren little islands in the Aegean to atone for bringing dishonor upon the family name, something that, apparently, no man can do."

  "Oh. I do apologize, and I cannot adequately express how grateful I am, and I shall surely set things straight with your father:" This woman had the unerring capacity to make me babble.

  "My father?" she all but shrieked. "You are going to talk to my father? It will amaze me if you are still drawing breath by the time you reach the end of the street out there!"

  I just knew she was going to burst into tears.

  "Oh, never fear. With a few of Milo's bullies behind me, I'm not worried about a few contemptible Etruscans with their little sticking-knives and hammers."

  "You idiot!" she yelled, sounding very much like my father. "Clodius knows Milo is your friend. He'll have his whole mob out looking for you. He'll get reinforcements from Pompey if he has to! You are doomed and so am I!" Then she did cry.

  "Please try not to get too emotional about this," I pleaded. Then she fell into my arms, bawling. I shall draw the veil of well-bred decency over the events of the next little while, except to say that we lacked the opportunity to get down to anything really serious.

  "Master," said Cato a little while later. "Your friend is here."

  We went out to find my atrium crowded. Milo was there, big as a house and backed by twenty others just as big and far, far uglier. I made introductions, and he looked Julia over with his usual frankness.

  "I've never admired your taste in women before, Decius," he said. "I'm glad to see that you improve with age." Julia stiffened, but he smiled his huge, infectious smile and she joined him. No one could resist Milo when he turned on the charm.

  "Come with me, Titus," I said. "We need to talk."

  I took him into my study and gave him an abbreviated account of what had transpired and what I had learned. He listened with his usual intense concentration and he read Nero's letter when I got to that part. He had that odd trick of being able to read without speaking the words aloud, something I was never able to master. When he finished he handed the letter back to me, smiling once more.

  "You see? I told you she could not be involved."

  "And I rejoice with you that the lady Fausta is innocent of wrongdoing. But there is still the little matter of treason."

  "Oh, that. Decius, the Senate can look out for itself. But this might be a good opportunity to get rid of Clodius."

  "Believe me, I will not stand in your way. I need to accomplish two things: I have to get Julia back to Caesar's house, and I need to present my findings to the Senate."

  "The Senate exists as a body only when a meeting is summoned," he pointed out. "The rest of the time, there are about five hundred Senators scattered all over Rome and the empire. There won't be another session called until well after the triumph."

  "That's true," I said. "But tomorrow evening, after the great procession, there will be a banquet of the entire Senate in the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. I will get up before them and present my case. I intend to see Pompey stripped of his triumphal regalia and disgraced right in front of the statue of Jupiter!"

  He shook his head in wonderment. "Decius, if you can accomplish all that with a lot of talk and an unsigned letter from an obscure boy, you'll be the greatest Roman who ever lived. But I'll back you, whatever you want to do."

  "That's all I ask," I said.

  "Where do we start?" he asked.

  "We take Julia home."

  Rarely has a patrician lady been escorted home in quite the way Julia was that night. She and I strolled hand in hand down the middle of some of Rome's most disreputable thoroughfares. The moonlight was bright and sounds of revelry came from all around as Rome celebrated a triumphal holiday. There were other sounds as well. We were closely surrounded by a tight-packed crowd of Milo's thugs, and from its periphery came strangled yells, the sound of blows, the clink of metal striking metal and the unmistakable wood-cracking sound of Milo's bronzelike palms slapping somebody. Sometimes the cobbles we walked over were a little slippery, but we made it to the Forum and the house of the Pontifex Maximus.

  I told the janitor to fetch the master and he went off.

  The person who appeared was not Caius Julius, though. It was his mother. She glared with astonishment, first at Julia, then at the men with her. Milo and I were among Rome's more presentable young men, but the same could not be said of his feral-looking followers.

  "My son, the distinguished Pontifex Maximus, is at the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, preparing the triumphal rites. I am his mother."

  I bowed. "All Rome knows the august patrician matron Aurelia."

  "I do not know you, but you have the look of gens Caecilia. Since you are wellborn and a Senator, I will allow you the opportunity to explain how you happen to be with my granddaughter, who has been missing from this house most of the day."

  "The lady has assisted me with certain services on behalf of the Republic which have unavoidably detained her. As you can see, I have been careful to provide the lady with a proper escort." The thugs grinned and nodded, a sight to frighten demons. "Please inform Caius Julius that these matters involve not only his august self but the glorious Pompey and the wealthy Crassus. I am sure he will inform you that he fully approves of his niece's actions today."

  She nodded fractionally. "Very well. I shall take no action against Julia until I have spoken with my sons, both of them. If her honor has been compromised in any fashion, I shall take measures to have the Censors expel you from the Senate for moral turpitude." She nodded toward Julia and, with a sideways glance at me, Julia disappeared into the house.

  "I think we
have no further business, Senator," she said, and stalked back into the house.

  "Come on, Decius," Milo said. "Getting back won't be so easy. There'll be reinforcements now. Come to my house. It's closer and far stronger."

  As we walked back across the Forum, somebody behind us said: "Does Caesar's niece have to be above suspicion, too?" and everybody laughed uproariously until we were attacked by a crowd armed with every manner of weapon, some of them carrying torches. An Etruscan, all eyes and teeth and pointed beard, came for me with a knife in one hand and a hammer in the other. I had me great satisfaction of cutting him down with my sword. The knife-and-hammer business was only good for killing unprepared men. I picked up the fallen hammer and dropped it inside my tunic.

  "That one's for Capito," I said to Milo. "I want two more for Nero and Purpurea."

  "They were no friends of yours," he said through his grin.

  "They were Romans, and foreigners shouldn't be allowed to kill Romans. I take it very ill of Pompey that he should use his barbarians thus."

  We made it to Milo's house with only minor casualties. With the massive door bolted behind us, Milo called for food and bandages and sent sentries up to the roof. With the excitement over, I began to ache in a hundred places. Apprehensively, I opened my tunic and examined my cut. So excellent was Asklepiodes's sewing that I had not sprung a single stitch, and only a bit of blood oozed from the wound's edges.

  "Decius," Milo said, "eat something, have a little wine and get some sleep. I'm not sure how you propose to survive until tomorrow night even with my help. I can ask a great deal of my men, but even I can't demand that free men miss a triumph just to preserve the hide of Rome's maddest Senator."

  This was odd phrasing, but in later conversation with Milo's men I learned that I was, indeed, gaining this reputation for eccentricity. They regarded me as a sort of mascot, rather as soldiers in foreign parts will adopt some exotic beast and invest it with spurious, luck-bestowing qualities. I thought it rather presumptuous that such lowborn scum should regard a noble Senator thus, but it is always a good idea to stay on fine terms with men like those.

  I did as Milo suggested. I ate well, had just a little wine, then went to one of his guest rooms and slept gloriously. I would wager that I slept better that night than Pompey, Caesar, Crassus or Clodius.

  Chapter XIV

  It was a beautiful morning. I rose just before sunrise and went up to the roof of Milo's house to watch the first light strike the gilded rooftops of the Capitol. Since it was likely to be my last such sight, I took it in with uncommon relish. All my frustrated agitation of the past few days was gone. I knew exactly what I had to do, and I was at peace.

  This is not to say that I was not excited. It would be an eventful day, whatever its outcome. I spoke with the sentries and they said that Clodius's men had hung around for several hours, but then had gone away. They also said that there had been a good many unfamiliar faces among the enemy. Pompey's reinforcements, I thought.

  At intervals along the roof, between the fire buckets full of water, stood bins of fist-sized rocks. The city had no laws against possession of rocks, but few things are more effective when launched from a roof. The guards boasted that they had left some sore heads among the besiegers.

  Milo came onto the roof, active and alert as always. He never seemed to sleep.

  "What's the plan?" he asked. "The triumphal procession will be forming up soon."

  "As a Senator," I said, "I will have to take part, so first we must go to the Circus Flaminius. Just get me there safely and I will do the rest."

  He was incredulous. "You really propose to march in Pompey's triumph?"

  "As a Senator, I consider it my duty," I assured him.

  He leaned back and roared with laughter. "You may be a fool, Decius, but you have real style. To the Circus, then."

  Hermes had delivered my formal toga to Milo's house so that I would be properly dressed. Awkward though the garment was, it was so voluminous that it gave adequate concealment for my weapons.

  "I wonder if Pompey will be bold enough to have you attacked during the procession," Milo mused as we walked toward the Campus Matrius.

  "With luck, he won't know I'm there for a while," I said. "The Senate and magistrates march in front, with the gods. Pompey can't even come into the city until his soldiers have marched through the whole route and had the gates shut behind them afterward. As for Clodius"- I patted the handle of my sword to reassure myself-"we shall just have to see how rash he is."

  All Rome was flocking to get a good position to see the triumph. The greater part would be in the two great Circuses, but a window or rooftop along the route would afford a better and closer view. Along the Via Sacra, some people had camped out for the past two or three nights on especially favorable rooftops, and landlords had rented out the best windows for tidy sums. The Roman need to gape at glory was insatiable.

  At the Circus I had to leave the comforting proximity of Milo and his thugs. Circus officials, accustomed to sorting out huge crowds, were ordering matters. Near the gate where the chariots enter for the races, I was hustled toward the rear of the senatorial procession.

  "By Jupiter!" said a junior Senator. "It's Decius! I can't believe you'd show your face in public."

  "Duty calls," I said. "How could I forgo my very first opportunity to participate in a triumph?"

  "Don't get us laughing in front of the citizens, Metellus," said another.

  Atop the spina, a sheep was sacrificed and its entrails examined. To nobody's surprise, the priests announced that the gods were favorable to the celebration of a triumph on that day. I have never known them to be unfavorable at such a time. I squinted at the priests, but they were just ordinary Etruscan haruspices, not the strange hammer specialists Pompey had brought to the city.

  With a blast of trumpets, we stepped out and entered the Circus, walking up one side, rounding the spina and then back down the other side. The populace applauded respectfully, although the Senate certainly wasn't what they had come to see. And so it went, all the long triumphal route, finally down the Via Sacra to the Forum, then up the Capitol. It was exhilarating, although my mind was elsewhere much of the time.

  After a formal salute to the image of Jupiter Capitolinus, we Senators scattered to get good vantage points for the main part of the show. I began to walk down the hill toward the Forum and the Rostra, which was a fine vantage point from which to view a spectacle. And from which to be seen.

  A hand gripped my arm and I reached for my sword I hadn't expected to be attacked on the Capitol. Men have died for less foolish assumptions.

  "Draw that and I'll have you sentenced to the Sicilian sulfur mines."

  "Why, Caius Julius Caesar, you do me great honor." He smiled widely, nodding and acknowledging greetings and well-wishers. I smiled back as gaily. We were two distinguished Romans, walking down the hill on this great day of Rome's triumph.

  "Pompey wants you dead, and by all the gods, I never saw a man cooperate so wholeheartedly in his own assassination! How did a family of plodding drudges like the Metellans ever produce a specimen like you?"

  "Oh, come now, Caius Julius, we may be a bit conservative, but we are scarcely-"

  "Shut up and listen!" he hissed. "You might, just might, live to draw breath tomorrow if you will heed me. Pompey will be far too busy to concern himself with you for the next few days, what with his triumph and his games. Clodius thirsts for your blood, but while the celebrations are going on, he won't be able to get his men to do anything."

  "Good," I said. "Just Clodius and me. That's the way I want it."

  "Venus, my ancestress, deliver me from such fools!" Caesar cried, in one of his better theatrical gestures. "He has those Etruscans Pompey loaned him, and they don't care about Roman holidays."

  "And I killed one of them last night," I said with satisfaction.

  "Worse. Now it's personal. Decius, I will stand beside you on the Rostra for the great procession, and m
aybe they won't try to attack you. But when Pompey goes up to the Capitol, I will have to be there to preside over the sacrifice and then the banquet. Do Rome a favor and sneak away. Come back in a month or two, when Pompey has more immediate enemies to concern him."

  We were almost to the Rostra by this time, and to all outward appearances we were conversing in greatest conviviality.

  "I know what you were up to, Caius Julius," I said. "You and Pompey and Crassus. I wish I had been there. The sight of you three in women's gowns must have been rare spectacle."

  I had expected him to be embarrassed. "Political expediency is not always consistent with one's highest vision of one's own dignity. But even that particular indignity is not to be despised. Glorious foreign conquest usually means months of lying on a verminous pallet, fever-ridden, covered with one's own blood and bodily effluvia, yet it can result in a triumph such as this." By this time we stood at the railing of the Rostra, and Caesar gestured toward the marching soldiers bearing standards and trophies, his golden bracelet flashing. I understood then that men such as I was up against had no more concept of shame than of conscience.

  "Why are you so solicitous, Caius Julius?" I asked. "Why try to preserve me when your friends want me dead?"

  He looked at me with open puzzlement. "Why do you call them my friends?"

  "Cohorts, then. I know what you plotted, dividing the world among you, setting aside the constitution and the Senate, and I intend to destroy all three of you!" I never made such a reckless speech sober.

  "How did you figure it all out?" Caesar said, smiling gently and obviously interested. I almost told him about Nero's letter, but decided that it might make me look less astute. I still had a young man's vanity, but more importantly, I had learned that it was best to maintain a sense of mystery about one's own capabilities. That was something Caesar had long known.