A Point of Law(79)

“And they planned to overthrow the government with a clown like this Fulvius?” Julia said, incredulous.

“He’s just the one we’ve discovered,” I told her. “They didn’t put in this much planning, hire Aristobulus to concoct their code, and then kill Fulvius just to control one man to agitate among the debtors and malcontents. They must have other agents, probably far more important than Fulvius.”

“You said something about there being seven names on each list,” Callista said. “What is the significance of this?”

“The meetings were conventional dinner parties,” I explained. “His triclinium was set up for it, with all those patriotic paintings. The couches were arranged according to strict form, as to location and size. For centuries we’ve always followed the custom of nine at dinner. He would have adhered to that. Seven guests each time. Fulvius made eight. Who was the ninth man?”

“This will bear some thought,” Julia said. “What did you learn at the baths?”

I told them about my little foray, and what Sallustius had told me about the meeting he had attended at the house of Fulvius.

“Sallustius was holding something back,” Julia said. “He didn’t give you the names of the other attendees.”

“Even Sallustius can be discreet at times. He knew that if he named names and I used this in a prosecution or denunciation, each of them would know which gathering it was and who had blabbed. That could mean death or permanent exile for him. And he went to only one dinner party, so he could not have known that one of the guests was a permanent fixture at these meetings. The significance would have escaped him.”

Julia scanned the names, her lips forming each one as she read it, barely voicing them. “What other names do we not see on these lists, now that we are thinking in negatives? I don’t see either Curio or Manilius. These were written well before Curio declared for Caesar, and he was known for his indebtedness. Why not him? And Manilius was a tribune. Who better to rouse the mob against the moneylenders? They would have seemed natural targets for this scheme.”

“I am not satisfied with Fulvia’s story that she had nothing to do with her brother while he was in Rome. She might have known about Curio’s defection ahead of time and told him. As for Manilius, he’s shown no signs of exceptional radicalism. Curio says the two of them cooperated during his tribuneship.”

“There is the matter of that estate he suddenly came into,” Julia pointed out.

“The Claudii Marcelli have plans, and some of them are even constitutional. It’s never a bad idea to have a Tribune of the People in your pocket. It’s done all the time.”

“Or,” said Callista, “either one of them could have been the ninth man.”

Julia smiled at her. “Now you’re beginning to think like a Roman.”

“By next year,” I went on, spinning out my speculations, “or maybe the year after, I believe they intend to declare both Caesar and Pompey to be enemies of the state and get the Senate to name one of themselves dictator. That one will name one of the others his Master of Horse.”

“How can they do that?” Julia said, heatedly.

“I don’t know, but they will provoke Caesar in some fashion, offer him some insult that he can’t allow to pass. They want to force him into a move that they’ll be able to take before the Senate as proof that the state is under attack and call for an Ultimate Decree of the Senate.”

“I don’t understand,” Callista said. “I thought a dictator was a usurper, like a Greek tyrant. And what is this—cavalry commander?”

“Among us,” Julia explained, “dictator is a constitutional office. In time of deadly national danger, such as a foreign invasion, when our division of powers is too slow and clumsy to meet the emergency, the Senate can direct the consuls to name a dictator.

The dictator in turn names another man to be his Master of Horse. This is an ancient title for his second in command, who will carry out his orders.”

“The dictator,” I went on, “has full imperium. He does not share it with a colleague, and his acts are not subject to tribunal veto. He is attended by twenty-four lictors, the number of both consuls combined. The dictatorship is what we call an ‘unaccountable’ office. Alone of all Roman magistrates, when he leaves office he cannot be called to account for his acts. He can order anything, including the execution without trial of citizens. He can declare war on his own initiative. There is no limit to his power save one.”

“What is that?” Callista asked.