Saturnalia(25)
“We spoke just this morning,” Bestia said. “Did you find your fortune-teller, Decius?” His beefy, intelligent face creased into a smile as he took my hand.
“Fortune-teller?” said Clodia, lifting an eyebrow in my direction. “Decius, you’ve changed. What happened to your renowned scepticism?”
“Egypt does that to you,” I said. “It puts you in touch with otherworldly things.”
“Come along, Decius,” she said, tugging at my arm. “If you’re going to lie to me, you might as well get drunk and do it convincingly.” She took me to a table that was covered with goblets and picked one up and handed it to me. “Now, who haven’t you met?” As she scanned the room I set the goblet down and picked up another. She gestured and a tiny, stunningly voluptuous young woman came to us.
“Decius, have you met Fulvia? She and my brother are to marry.”
“Yes, I met her here about two years ago. You are more beautiful than ever, if that is possible, Fulvia. But I expected you to be married by now.” She truly was stunning, with white-blonde hair piled atop her head in the latest style, held in place by tortoise shell combs and silver skewers.
“Clodius intends to celebrate our nuptials after he takes office.” I remembered that furry, palpitation-inducing voice. “He plans to throw a vast celebration for the whole populace, with games and a free distribution of food and oil and everyone’s attendance at the baths paid for for the whole month.”
“Sounds like a wonderful party,” I said, trying to figure out what such a thing would cost.
“He’s hired more than a hundred gladiators from Capua to come up to Rome to fight another troupe from the Statilian school,” Fulvia said with unmaidenly relish.
“Munera at a wedding?” I said, aghast.
“Oh, technically the munera will be in honor of our late father, to keep everything legal,” Clodia explained, “and they’ll be on a day set aside solely for that purpose, but everyone will know that it’s part of the wedding celebration.”
“And it will win Clodius no end of popularity, I’m sure,” I said. Oh, well, I thought, so what if the old boy died almost twenty years ago. It’s never too late for funeral games.
“He’s already the most popular man in Rome,” Clodia purred. “This, plus his enactions in office, will make him the next thing to king of Rome.”
This was just the sort of thing I liked to hear. Yes, next year would definitely be a good one to stay as far from Rome as possible. If, of course, I survived this year. I was about to make some ill-considered remark about the annually sacrificed King of Fools when I was saved by the arrival of another guest, none other than Marcus Licinius Crassus Dives, third of the Big Three after Caesar and Pompey and richer than the other two and the rest of the world put together. I exaggerate, but he was awfully rich. Clodia dragged him over.
“When did you get back, Marcus?” Clodia crowed. Another returnee. “When I sent my invitation to your house I really didn’t expect you’d be there. How lucky for me you were!” She didn’t bother with introductions. Everyone knew who Crassus was, and if he didn’t know you, you probably weren’t worth knowing.
“My dear, you know I’d have run all the way from Campania to attend one of your gatherings,” he said, grinning and showing some new, deep lines in his face. In fact, he looked tired all over. “I got back to the City last night, and I’ve given my slaves orders to tie me up if I ever talk about leaving again.”
“Is that where you’ve been, Marcus Licinius?” I asked.
“Got away from Rhodes, eh, Decius Caecilius? Lucky you. Yes, I’ve been most of the year organizing the new Capuan colony and a duller, more onerous job I’ve never had. The Senate formed a judicial board to oversee the settlement of Pompey’s veterans and Caesar’s paupers on the new lands under the new agrarian law, and they named me to head the board. When Caius Cosconius died last summer the Senate asked Cicero to replace him, but he had the brains to refuse.”
“Oh, but such important work, Marcus,” Clodia said. “It’s the biggest and most important task to face the government since the wars with Carthage. No wonder the Senate wanted you and no other to be in charge.” I had never rated such flattery from Clodia.
Crassus shrugged. “A clerk’s job, but it had to be done.” His words were blunt and commonsense, but I could see the self-satisfaction oozing all over him with her words. Clodia dashed off to deal with a new guest, Fulvia in tow, leaving me temporarily with Crassus.