The gladiators began to tug their tunics up and down and sideways to show off for general admiration the terrible scars of the numerous wounds Asklepiodes had stitched up for them. People began edging closer for a better look.
“Splendid, Metellus!” Pompey shouted. “I forgive them their intrusion just so they leave as soon as their duty is done.
Citizens!” He threw wide his arms. “Stand not in the way of the great physician! He must fly at once to the side of Curio!”
The crowd began to mill about uncertainly. Most of them had no idea which direction the litter needed to go so they couldn’t very well get out of its way. For the moment their attention was off Fulvia.
“Put me down,” I ordered.
Cato hustled back. “The wretch is at Fulvia’s house. As likely a place as any to be assaulted.”
I leaned into the litter. “That’s where Clodius used to live. You know how to get there, don’t you?”
“All Rome knows that address,” he assured me. “This has been most enjoyable, and if I may be of help, next year’s tribune will owe me a favor.” With that he was hoisted aloft and carried off.
I dashed up the steps. A soldier I knew slightly from the Gallic war recognized me and stepped aside. “Good day, Captain. We kept anyone from disturbing the lady because we thought that’s what Caesar would want us to do. He said to support Curio.”
“I doubt he had this in mind, but it looks like no harm done. You men get back to your carousing.” I rushed to Fulvia’s side, pulled off my toga and draped it over her white shoulders. Her whole upper body jerked rhythmically, as if she were sobbing, but no sobs came from her. Then I understood why she kept quiet while Pompey and I distracted the mob: The moment she stopped screaming she had gone into convulsive hiccups.
I patted her on the back as I led her from the Rostra. After a while the hiccups subsided and she could talk.
“They waited for him outside my house. My house, Decius!” As if she would have been less offended had they picked some other street.
“It is because they knew he was to be found there. How badly is he hurt?”
“I left him weak and bleeding badly. I know you think I’m heartless for leaving him there and coming down here, but my personal physician is with him. You needn’t have brought your Greek. It was very thoughtful of you though.”
“It was the least I could do.”
“It was just too much!” she went on, getting her breath back as I led her down the steps with an arm about her shoulders. “I mean, first Grandfather and Great-Uncle Tiberius, then Clodius, now Curio! Are they determined to leave me entirely bereft?” It did not escape me that she had not included her late brother among those for whom she grieved.
“Fulvia,” I said soothingly, “you are a high-born Roman lady, and you must learn to accept the fact that, in the course of your life, about half your menfolk are going to die violently.”
I looked around and what I saw wasn’t greatly reassuring. Everywhere there were senators, many of them pointing and glaring at Fulvia. But even more of them were frowning in the direction of the soldiers, and the words I overheard weren’t pretty. They would not soon forget that Caesar’s legionaries had shown such insolence and disrespect toward senators and had handled them violently.
As for the soldiers, those tough, battle-scarred men seemed not at all abashed by this senatorial hostility. They looked as if they had rather enjoyed the little tussle and were now back to basking in the admiration of the populace. The plebs and a few senators who were Caesar’s supporters saluted Fulvia respectfully. It had been a bravura performance. After this, the upcoming elections were sure to be anti-climactic.
“You weren’t entirely candid with me, Fulvia,” I chided her. “You said you had no gift for public speaking.”
“It isn’t from training or inclination,” she said. “It is just that sometimes I get so angry! It isn’t rhetorical polish you hear, it’s passion.”
“Well, we’re all doomed if you ever take it up as a profession.” I saw someone coming toward us like a thundercloud. “Uh-oh, here comes Pompey. Let me talk to him, keep your eyes modestly downcast and your mouth shut.”
“Why? Do you think I should be afraid of him?”
Pompey gave me a curt nod. “That was excellently done, Metellus. We tend to forget how dangerous it is, having so many people in the City as we do at this time of year.” He turned his glowering countenance toward Fulvia. “As for you, you indecent young woman, it is your great luck that I choose not to have you arrested for creating a public scandal. It is a pity that you’re a widow because by rights your father or husband should flog you like a rebellious slave. As it is, I ought to—”