A Point of Law(22)

“Believe me,” I said, “I am not polluted with the blood of Fulvia’s brother. I didn’t even step in it. I came to ask about him, since I may have to defend myself in court.”

“I’m sure Decius didn’t do it,” Fulvia said. “His reputation is that of a forthright brawler, not a murderer.”

“I’ve heard that manly combat is the technique of heedless youth, careful assassination that of maturity. But I am certain that you are right, my dear. The fact that you entertain Decius in your house proclaims his innocence.”

“If you believe it,” I said, “why not bring it up at the contio this afternoon?”

“I shall do so,” he said, smiling.

“Oh, don’t,” Fulvia said wearily. “Everyone will just take it as further proof that I’m the most disreputable woman in Rome.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “I’ve already undertaken to rehabilitate your reputation. I’ll lay all your indiscretions at the feet of Clodius and his sisters. You were their helpless, unfortunate victim.”

I arched an eyebrow toward Fulvia. She just shrugged. He turned to me.

“Have you any idea why Fulvius chose to attack you? Other than the usual political motives, I mean?”

“None at all. I’d never heard of the man before yesterday. Of course, the City is always full of politically ambitious men, and never more so than at this time of year. Why he should pick me out of all the others he could choose from I can’t guess. Give any well-informed Roman a chance to name the most distinguished men of the Republic, and he’ll be reeling off names for an hour before he thinks of me.”

“You are too modest,” Fulvia assured me. “Even if you aren’t famous for conquering barbarians, you’ve always been popular here in the City, both as a public prosecutor and as an administrator. Not as incorruptible as Cato, I understand, but you’re believed to be relatively honest; and everyone enjoyed the games you celebrated.”

“No one is as incorruptible as Cato, as he’ll tell you himself. And if my games were a hit, it’s because I enjoy them myself.”

“You see?” Curio said. “The people like you because they know you share their tastes. I’m surprised you never sought the tribuneship yourself.”

“My family discussed the possibility a few years ago,” I told him, “but I was in Gaul during the desired year. I was probably safer there. In Gaul you can recognize your enemies from a distance.”

“The tribuneship is not to everyone’s taste,” Curio said.

“Speaking of that office,” I said, “do you know Manilius, the one who’s called the contio to discuss the murder?” I was curious to hear what Curio had to say about the man.

“A good man. I’ve been assisting him all year, sort of an apprenticeship prior to taking on the job myself.” This was not an uncommon practice. Officials always needed helper, and these were often men in training for the same office. Except for a few public slaves, such as those at the Archive and the Treasury, the Republic supplied no staff to assist the elected officials in their work. Instead, they were expected to supply their own, at their own expense.

“He has only a few days left in office,” I said. “I wonder that he wants to take on what could turn into a major case so late.”

“His last major act in office is what will stick in peoples’ minds at the next elections.”

“Where do his ambitions lie?” I asked. “The legions? The courts? Provincial administration?” In earlier times a Roman in public life was expected to be adept at everything. He was supposed to be a soldier, a speaker, a lawyer, a farmer, and many other things. But the Republic had grown huge and complex since the days of our forefathers. It had turned into an Empire, and its public business was too complicated for one man to master it all. The tendency was for men to specialize, so that now we had prominent men who were lawyers undistinguished in war, like Cicero and Hortalus, full-time soldiers like Pompey, and businessmen like Crassus. Caesar was something of a throwback: a man who seemed able to do everything well.

“Manilius acts as if his only ambition is to serve in whatever capacity the Roman people see fit to bestow upon him,” Curio said. “This may be sincere or a pose; I don’t know him well enough to say. Like most of us he started out as a Tribune of the Soldiers. He was with Gabinius in Syria and Egypt. He seems to have served honorably, but I never heard that he earned great distinction. I get the impression that Gabinius didn’t entrust him with as much responsibility as he thought he deserved.”