Saturnalia(19)

This was truly mystifying.

“What do you mean?”

“By now you know that my brother-in-law, your kinsman Metellus Celer, was poisoned?”

“I know he is dead,” I said cautiously. “I have only heard rumors that he was poisoned.”

“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten. You’re one of those philosophers of logic.”

I let the insult pass. “I prefer solid evidence to hearsay,” I told him.

“Well, rumor then has it that Celer was poisoned by his wife, my sister, Clodia. My enemies and the common herd are whispering behind my back that she is guilty, just because she flouts convention and champions my cause.”

“The world is full of injustice,” I averred.

“You’re supposed to be good at finding things out, Metellus. I want you to find out who killed Celer and clear Clodia’s name.”

I was so stunned that I almost slid beneath the water. He took my hesitation for reluctance.

“Do this and you can have anything of me you ask, and as tribune I can do a great deal for you: honors, appointments, whatever you want. I can push them through the Popular Assemblies almost without effort.”

“I don’t require a bribe to find out the truth,” I said pompously. The temptation was powerful though, which may be why I was so haughty.

He waved it aside. “Of course, of course. But I’m sure you wouldn’t object to a generous Saturnalia present, would you?” This was a common way to proffer a bribe.

I shrugged. “Who could take offense at that?” I would like to believe that I only said this because I knew that I would never leave the room alive without agreeing to his proposal. Men have drowned in the baths before.

“It is agreed then,” he stated with great finality. “Good. Begin at once. You will need to call upon Clodia. She is having a dinner tonight. You are invited.”

“This is all rather sudden,” I said.

“I am busy and have little time. You won’t be in Rome long, will you, Decius?” The way he said it brooked little disagreement.

“Only long enough to settle the matter of Celer’s death.”

“Excellent, excellent. I don’t mean that we must resume our feud when this disagreeable matter is over, but to be frank the fewer friends Milo and Cicero have in the city during my tribuneship, the happier I’ll be.” He clapped me on my wet shoulder. “We’re men of the world, eh? We all know how politics work. Just because men disagree on certain matters doesn’t mean they can’t cooperate harmoniously on other matters of mutual interest.” Like all professional politicians, Clodius could turn on the charm when necessary.

“It goes without saying,” I murmured.

“Precisely.” He splashed water over his face and hair. “For instance, Cato and I loathe one another. But I have an extremely important post for him next year, one that I would entrust to none of my friends.”

“Permit me to guess that it’s a position that will keep him away from Rome,” I said.

He grinned. “No reason why I can’t accomplish two beneficial acts with one piece of legislation, is there?”

“What’s the post?” I asked, genuinely interested. Everything Clodius did as tribune was likely to affect myself and my family in one way or another.

“Our annexation of Cyprus is coming up. I’m going to give Cato an extraordinary position as quaestor pro praetore to oversee the transfer and render a full accounting to the Senate, his authority to last as long as he thinks fit to get the job done.”

“He’s a good choice,” I admitted grudgingly. “The island is strategically important and rich. In the hands of most men that would be a license to loot the place and sow bad will among the natives for a generation to come. Cato is utterly incorruptible; not that it makes him any more likable. He’ll render an honest accounting.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“I take it you don’t intend any reconciliation with Cicero?

His smile dropped away and the real Clodius flashed through. “Some things are beyond even the demands of political expediency. I’m going to drive him into exile and I’ve made no secret of the fact.”

“You realize that you’ll be robbing Rome of one of her best political and legal minds, don’t you? Cicero is one of the most capable men of our age.”

Clodius snorted. Maybe he had water up his nose. “Decius, like most of the aristocrats, you’re living in the past. Between the dictatorship of Sulla and the present we’ve had this little revival of the old Republic, but it won’t last. The important figures of our age are the men of action, men like Caesar and Pompey, not lawyers like Cicero.”