A Point of Law(8)

“I’ve scarcely seen her these past few years, except when we both attended noblewomen’s ceremonies the Bona Dea festival and the rites of Ceres and so forth. When she was married to Clodius, she was tight with that circle, naturally. Now it looks as if she’ll marry Marcus Antonius, and Antonius has thrown in his lot with Caesar. So I can’t imagine that she’s put her brother up to this, evil bitch though she may be.”

“Do you think she’s all that bad?”

“Clodia’s a Vestal by comparison.” The notorious Clodia had retired to virtual seclusion since her brother’s death, thus robbing Rome of its favorite focus for scandal. As always, I grew uneasy when my wife mentioned Clodia. I had a checkered and somewhat unsavory past with that woman.

“Then who? The major factions should be trying to court the Metelli, not to alienate them.” I attacked an unoffending but delicious rabbit, tore off its leg and dipped it in garum.

Julia thought about it for a while, then she seemed to get off the subject. “Who do you think your family will support? They can’t stay neutral forever. Sooner or later they’ll have to declare for Caesar or Pompey.”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “For one thing, a year from now, Caesar or Pompey or both could be dead. Gaul is not a healthy place, as I can attest from experience. One stray arrow, one determined assassin, an unexpected German offensive—any number of things could spell an abrupt end for Caesar. For that matter, an ague or a disgruntled officer could do it. Recall if you will that half the Senate cooperated to send him to Gaul in hopes that he’d die there.

“As for Pompey, he’s at the age when men drop dead suddenly of natural causes. He’s put on weight and doesn’t get around like he used to.”

“You aren’t answering me.” Julia was as relentless as any lawyer.

“It depends on who frightens them the most. They’ve spent decades scared of Pompey and his soldiers, and they’ve opposed him most of the time. Now they’re getting apprehensive of Caesar. He has an unprecedentedly large and happy army, and for several years he’s been virtual king of Gaul and Illyricum. When the time comes, they’ll take sides against the one who gives them the biggest scare. They’ll back the weaker man.”

“When will they decide who frightens them most?”

“It depends on how Caesar and Pompey act. They’ll try to keep things peaceful as long as they can. If Pompey keeps his veterans in the south, and if Caesar lays down his imperium when his term expires, comes back to Rome and takes his place in the Senate, then my family will try to keep the peace and stay in the good graces of both of them.”

“Do you think that will happen?”

“I think it’s unlikely. Caesar has shown his contempt for the Senate too clearly. If he tries to do what Sertorius did and set himself up as an independent king, there will be civil war and Pompey will lead the campaign against him. If Pompey takes it into his head to call up his soldiers and capture southern Italy, my family will go to Caesar and beg him to crush Pompey.”

“And if Caesar returns to Rome but doesn’t lay down his imperium? If he brings his soldiers with him and camps outside the walls of Rome?”

“Then my family will side with Pompey. They always back the weaker man, the one they think they can control. I hope it doesn’t come to any of these ends, because then it will make no difference whom we back. It will mean the end of the Republic.”

“Perhaps it’s time,” Julia said.

“Never! If there is another civil war, whoever wins, Caesar or Pompey or another man, he will make himself dictator. And unlike Sulla, this one will not retire and restore the Republic. It will be monarchy, just like in the Orient. That would be unworthy of Rome.”

“We’re getting away from the subject,” Julia said. She would never say it, but the idea of her uncle as monarch didn’t bother her a bit. “I am going to look into this man Fulvius and his past. Someone is behind him and when we know who it is, we’ll know how to fight him.”

“Much as I detest Sallustius,” I told her, “I am almost ready to take his advice and offer the bastard a bribe to back off.”

“Whoever is behind him will have thought of that,” she said. “He’s been offered something better than money.”

“Better than money,” I pointed out, “there is only honor and public office, which he is unlikely to attain if he follows this course.”

“Men value different things,” she said. “Not everyone is a Roman of great family.”