A Mist of Prophecies

by Saylor, Steven

  But along with fear, I felt another kind of thrill, far more pleasant. Partly it came from the simple excitement of being in a crowd, but mostly it came from my proximity to Cassandra. I found myself pressed very close to her, feeling the heat of her body, smelling the scent of jasmine on her skin. She turned to look at me, and in her eyes I saw a mirror of the same fear and excitement I was feeling.

  I looked around and saw a narrow alley leading off to one side. A few people were emerging from the alley, trying to join the crowd, but no one was entering it. The north side of the Forum is a warren of winding little streets that take unpredictable turns or lead to dead ends. I wrinkled my brow and tried to remember where that particular alley led.

  ‘Come!’ I said. ‘Follow me.’

  Rupa hung back, frowning, but Cassandra took his hand and pulled him along. I ploughed a course through the crush of people, jostling elbows and stepping on toes, until at last we came to the alley and stepped free of the crowd.

  ‘Are you feeling unwell, Gordianus?’ said Cassandra.

  I laughed. ‘Is that why you think I wanted to escape that crush? I don’t faint every time I’m in a crowd.’ Though it would be worth it, I thought, if every time I could wake to see your face above me.

  I led them down the alley, which twisted and turned like a serpent so that it was impossible to see very far ahead, especially when the walls on either side narrowed until I could reach out and touch both at once. The alley branched, and I had to pause to remember which way to take. Rupa grew increasingly dubious, shaking his head and making signs to Cassandra that they should turn back. I could see that she was wavering, no longer sure whether to trust me or not.

  The alley came to a dead end. The walls on either side were solid brick. In the wall facing us, a narrow door was recessed in the stonework. Rupa gave a snort and tugged at Cassandra’s arm.

  ‘Wait!’ I said. I knocked on the door. There was no response. I knocked again, harder. Finally a peephole opened, and a rheumy eye stared out.

  ‘Gordianus!’ I heard my name through the thick wood of the door. A moment later it slowly opened on creaking hinges to reveal the stooped figure of an elderly man leaning on a crutch. We had arrived at the back door of the shop owned by my old acquaintance Didius. The shop fronted on the Forum’s north side. Didius sold various goods required by the army of clerks who worked in nearby temples and state offices – handles and twine for assembling scrolls, Egyptian parchment and inks, styluses and wax tablets, and other bookmaking and record-keeping paraphernalia. He also specialized in copying documents; the work was performed by a small staff of scribes who laboured day and night. Some of the documents that passed through his shop contained sensitive information, and Didius’ profession often made him privy to more secrets than many of his customers realized. I had found him a useful man to know over the years.

  ‘Gordianus!’ he cried. ‘I haven’t see you in months. Not since you last came in with that copy of Pindar that had some water damage and needed a bit of repair.’

  ‘Has it been that long? Didius, these are—’ I hesitated. What should I call them? ‘Two friends,’ I finally said, ‘Cassandra and Rupa. We’re looking to pass through your shop into the Forum.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Didius. ‘Too crowded out there. Too crazy! I’ve shut the doors and barred them. But if you want to watch, you’re welcome to come up to the roof, along with everyone else.’

  ‘Everyone else?’

  ‘All my staff. They can’t possibly work with this madness going on. And from the roof there’s an excellent view of Caelius and Trebonius and their tribunals, or so I’m told. My eyes are too weak to see that far. Come, I’ll show you. Hurry along! Who knows what may happen in the next few moments?’

  He led us through a storage room and into his shop. The doors and windows were barred, casting the room into darkness. A ladder in the corner led to an upper storey. Didius put aside his crutch and led the way. He hobbled a bit, but was surprisingly spry. We emerged in the room where the scribes worked; after the dimness below, the bright light from the tall windows hurt my eyes. I breathed in the smell of fresh parchment and ink.

  Didius ascended another ladder. I followed, with Cassandra and Rupa behind me. Through the opening above I could see a patch of sky.

  One of the slaves on the rooftop saw Didius hobbling up the ladder and reached down to help him. As we emerged onto the roof, the scribes crowded along the low parapet made way for their master and his guests. As Didius had promised, we had an excellent view of the rival tribunals in the Forum below.

  ‘I see Caelius,’ I said, ‘but where’s Trebonius? His tribunal’s completely empty – no lictors, no clerks . . . no Trebonius.’

  ‘Must have run off,’ quipped Didius. ‘I’m not surprised. Caelius’s rhetoric against him was scalding hot. He was practically daring the crowd to pull Trebonius off his tribunal and tear him limb from limb. Probably Trebonius had the good sense to beat a hasty retreat while he still could.’

  I looked down at the massive, seething crowd that surrounded Caelius, who was orating and gesticulating wildly. Above the noise of the mob, I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  ‘What’s he going on about?’ I asked Didius.

  ‘He’s gone the distance.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Caelius has made his ultimate gambit, or so I should think. It’s hard to imagine how he could go any further to pander to the mob. It’s because he’s about to be arrested. Why hold back?’

  ‘Arrested? How do you know that?’

  ‘I know because yesterday the consul Isauricus came here and asked me to draw up several copies of the Ultimate Decree. That would normally be done by scribes attached to the Senate House, but I suppose Isauricus wanted so many copies drawn up in so short a time that he brought part of the job to me.’

  ‘A sensitive commission.’

  ‘So Isauricus warned me. I named a steep price and told him I’d keep my mouth shut.’

  The Ultimate Decree had been invoked by the Senate on only a handful of occasions in my lifetime. It declared a state of emergency and empowered the consuls to use any means necessary to protect the state from immediate danger. Cicero had convinced the Senate to invoke it against Catilina and his so-called conspirators and had used it to justify the execution of unarmed prisoners (one of them being Marc Antony’s stepfather – yet another reason for Antony’s long-standing hatred of Cicero). More recently Pompey and his faction had invoked the Ultimate Decree against Caesar, goading him to cross the Rubicon. Why would Isauricus want copies of the Ultimate Decree drawn up unless he planned to invoke it? And against whom might he wish to declare it, except Marcus Caelius?

  I looked at Didius. ‘And did you?’

  ‘Did I what?’

  ‘Did you keep your mouth shut?’

  Didius cast a glance at Cassandra and Rupa. They were both staring raptly at the spectacle below, but he lowered his voice nonetheless. He shrugged and pointed towards Caelius. ‘What can I say? I’ve always liked Caelius. He’s commissioned a lot of books from me over the years! Likes to give them to friends as gifts. Slim scrolls of erotic poetry, that sort of thing; impeccable taste. I don’t always like his politics, but I like him. This latest campaign of his, carrying on against the bankers and landlords – it’s all so much wind, if you ask me. Nothing will come of it, but I still admire his spirit. So I decided to do him a favour. Whispered a discreet word in the right ear. Caelius got the message. I thought we’d all wake today to the news that he had fled the city, but there you see him. I suppose he thinks he can somehow use the moment to his advantage. Maybe he’s being clever; but if you ask me, he’s cutting it awfully close. You can’t say he lacks nerve! But we shall see if he’s still alive come nightfall.’

  ‘A moment ago you said Caelius had gone the distance. What did you mean?’

  ‘He’s talking about new legislation again. No more half measures, he says. The time has come for imme
diate and complete abolition of all debts. Wipe the ledgers clean! Start over fresh! Can you imagine the chaos that would cause? But there’s no shortage of people who like the idea. Look at them out there, swirling around Caelius and chanting his name so loudly you can’t even hear him speak. The mob loves him – the way they used to love Clodius and, before him, Catilina.’

  ‘And Caesar, not so long ago,’ I said.

  Didius shook his head. ‘People fear Caesar. But does anyone really love him except his soldiers? Mind you, I don’t fault Caesar for refusing to pander to the rabble. A demagogue like Caelius can promise everyone the moon, but if he suddenly found himself really in charge of things, with a treasury to fill and a war to wage and a grain dole to hand out, he’d change his tune overnight.’

  I nodded towards the crowd below. ‘What are we seeing down there, Didius? Has Isauricus announced the Ultimate Decree against Caelius?’

  ‘Not yet. The Senate’s debating it now. There may be an announcement at any moment. I think Isauricus hoped it would be a surprise so they could take Caelius with no trouble. But now the word’s out, and it’s too late for that.’

  ‘Why today? What prompted Isauricus to take action? Did he know that Caelius was about to announce this plan to abolish debts?’

  ‘Who knows which player blinked first and made the other jump? Something like this was bound to happen; the struggle between Caelius and the other magistrates has been building for months. If you ask me, I think Isauricus is acting now because he happens to have some troops available to him. They arrived outside Rome a few days ago on their way to join Caesar. Isauricus persuaded them to stay for a while. With those troops on hand, he has the muscle to use against Caelius if he needs it, so now’s the time for Isauricus to bite a stick and pull out the thorn in his side. If the Senate passes the Ultimate Decree – and who can doubt they will? – Caelius has only a few more hours of freedom, maybe only a few more minutes, so he’s cast his final throw of the dice. He’s counting on this wild promise of debt abolition to be his Venus Throw, the one play that could turn the game in his favour.’

  Listening to Didius, I felt the little thrill a man gets when he lets himself imagine that the impossible might actually take place. What if Caelius did succeed in sparking a revolution against Isauricus and Trebonius and the other magistrates left in place by Caesar? What if he upset everyone’s expectations by making himself – not Pompey, not Caesar – the new master of Rome? What if a single man, channelling the fury of the Roman mob, could abruptly turn the world upside down, sweeping the rich out of their houses and lifting the poor up in their stead? To do that, eventually Caelius would have to win some legions to his side. It could happen. If Caesar were to be killed and his troops left leaderless, they might be drawn to a charismatic leader with bold ideas, a man like Caelius . . .

  It was all a fantasy, of course, frightening and fascinating to imagine, but ultimately unthinkable. Then I reminded myself that hardly more than a year ago, it had been unthinkable that Caesar would dare to cross the Rubicon and march on Rome like an invading barbarian.

  ‘Look there!’ said Didius. ‘My eyes are weak, Gordianus, but don’t I see men coming from the direction of the Senate House?’

  ‘You do indeed, Didius. Armed men, a whole troop of them, scattering the mob before them. And farther back I believe I see a cordon of lictors with Isauricus in their midst.’ I couldn’t tell whether there had been any bloodshed, but the men scattering before the armed troops were screaming and yelling, making such a noise that it carried above the raucous chanting and cheering of the mob around Marcus Caelius. Caelius himself appeared to hear the noise, for I saw him raise his hands for silence. A moment later, all heads turned in the direction of the Senate House. The cries of the fleeing mob echoed about the Forum, along with another noise, for not all those who fled did so passively; some were casting stones at the soldiers, who responded by drawing into tortoise formation with shields locked around them and above their heads. The flying stones pelting the shields made a racket like heavy hail against a roof. The noise heartened the mob around Caelius. They began to chant: ‘Abolish all debts! Bankrupt the bankers! Abolish all debts! Bankrupt the bankers!’

  I looked on, aghast. In Massilia, during the worst of the siege, I had witnessed something similar – citizens casting stones at their own soldiers. For any city to reach such a level of disorder was a terrifying thing. To see it happen in Rome was appalling.

  Suddenly I heard a roar of laughter from the crowd around Caelius. He was strutting across the raised platform holding up his chair of state. I squinted, trying to see what they were laughing at. It was the same deliberately plain, modestly ornamented chair Caelius had used before, the one that Isauricus had broken in a rage. The seat had been mended, not with wood, but with leather straps. In a flash I caught Caelius’ little joke, which was typically convoluted, cruel, and vulgar. The one anecdote everybody knew about Isauricus had to do with his father’s temper, and the fact that Isauricus had received regular beatings with a leather strap when he was a boy. When others needled him about it, Isauricus tried to make a virtue of his father’s abuse, saying such discipline had toughened him up. Gave him a tough bottom, people would say behind Isauricus’ back. For breaking his chair, Caelius had taken revenge on Isauricus by mending the chair with leather straps – a reminder to everyone of the legendary abuse of Isauricus’s father and of the consul’s own uncontrolled fit of temper. With Isauricus and a company of armed troops quickly approaching, Caelius, defiant to the last possible moment, was holding up the chair for the crowd’s amusement – his way of tweaking his nose at the Ultimate Decree.

  Above the roaring laughter and the hail of stones on shields – still distant, but drawing closer by the moment – I heard Caelius’ stentorian parting words: ‘Shame on Caesar’s lackeys who dare to call themselves elected magistrates! I give up my office! I give up my chair of state! But I shall return!’ With that he hurled his chair of state high in the air. It landed in the midst of the crowd. Men swarmed to claim pieces as a souvenir. They tore the chair apart and snapped leather straps over their heads.

  When I looked back at the tribunal, Caelius had vanished.

  ‘But where . . . ?’ I whispered.

  ‘Into thin air,’ said Didius, ‘like a sorcerer!’

  A few moments later the armed troops pushed their way into the crowd around the tribunal. Isauricus arrived, surrounded by his lictors, looking furious.

  ‘Abolish all debts! Bankrupt the bankers!’ cried the mob.

  Caelius was nowhere to be seen.

  I glanced at Cassandra, who was watching the spectacle below as raptly as the rest of us. It seemed to me that I saw a faint, elusive smile on her lips.

  A few more stones were thrown, but with Caelius gone, the adoring mob had no reason to stay, and neither did the soldiers who had come to arrest him. The crowd dispersed.

  When I looked again for Cassandra, she and Rupa had vanished, leaving as little trace as Marcus Caelius.

  I talked for a while longer with Didius, then took my leave. I felt an urge to return to Cassandra’s apartment, but for what purpose? By now my family must have noticed my absence and would know about the disruption in the Forum. Bethesda would be worried.

  I hurried home, bracing myself for her reception. But when I arrived, a little out of breath from hurrying up the Palatine Hill, it was Diana who greeted me. Her brow was furrowed with worry as I had so often seen her mother’s.

  ‘I suppose I’m in a bit of trouble,’ I said sheepishly. ‘Your mother—’

  ‘Mother’s gone to bed,’ said Diana, quietly.

  ‘In the middle of the day?’

  ‘She became dizzy while we were in the market. She felt so poorly, she had to come home at once.’ Diana frowned. ‘I hope it’s nothing serious.’

  That was the first appearance of Bethesda’s lingering illness, which was to cast such a deep shadow over my household in the months to come.


  X

  ‘I suppose you ate your fill of those stuffed dates at Antonia’s house, and we needn’t go looking for anything more to eat before our next stop?’ I said to Davus.

  ‘They were very good,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll have to take your word for it. I’m afraid our hostess spoiled my appetite.’

  ‘She seemed like a very unhappy woman.’

  ‘Typically, Davus, you understate. I suppose we should try to be sympathetic. It can’t be easy being married to a fellow like Marc Antony.’

  ‘Unhappy,’ he repeated thoughtfully, ‘and bitter. She spoke very harshly of Cassandra. She said she’d have killed Cassandra herself if someone else hadn’t already done so.’

  ‘Yes, Davus, I heard what she said.’

  ‘So where are we off to now, Father-in-Law?’

  ‘I’m thinking it’s time I paid a call on a certain famous actress who keeps a house near the Circus Maximus.’

  Davus nodded, then reached inside his toga. He produced a stuffed date and popped it into his mouth.

  He saw me staring. ‘I’m sorry, Father-in-Law. Would you like one? I have plenty more.’

  ‘Davus! What did you do, slip a handful into your toga while I wasn’t watching?’

  ‘Antonia said to take as many as I wanted,’ he said defensively.

  ‘So she did. You should have been an advocate, Davus. Cicero himself couldn’t split a hair more finely.’

  It wasn’t hard to find the house we were seeking. Everyone in Rome knew who Cytheris was, and everyone in the neighbourhood of the Circus Maximus knew where she lived. An old woman selling plums from a basket – they should have been made of gold for what she was asking – pointed us in the general direction, down the wide avenue that runs along the south wall of the circus. We passed a troupe of acrobats practising in the street, much to the delight of a crowd of children. A team of chariot racers all dressed in green came walking by. They were covered with dust, with whips wrapped tightly around their forearms and snug leather caps on their heads. I asked their leader for more specific directions.