Saturnalia(33)

“Back off, you louts!” The cry came from behind me and a second later Hermes was beside me, my army gladius in his right hand, the moonlight gleaming along its lethal edges. “You two may be terrors in your home village, but you’re in the big city now!” He grinned and twirled the sword in his hand, an excellent act, considering he had no slightest knowledge of swordplay. But he loved to hang around Milo’s thugs, and he knew their moves.

Now thoroughly disconcerted, the two backed away. “Stop poking into things as don’t concern you, Metellus,” said one of the rustic gemini. “If you don’t, there’ll be more of us back soon. Leave Rome now, if you want to live.” With that, the two backed to the end of the block, then turned and darted around the corner and were gone.

“That was well done, Hermes,” I said, as we walked the few steps to my gate. “I really must get you enrolled in the ludus. I think you’ll do well.”

“When I saw it was just a couple of bumpkins that had ridden into town on a turnip wagon, I ran to get your sword,” Hermes said. “What was that all about?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” I told him. “Clodius would have sent trained killers. Clodia would have poisoned me. All my enemies have competent murderers for their dirty work. Who sends hayseed bullies from the hills?”

We went inside and barred the gate. Cato and Cassandra stood there, blinking, wakened by the commotion from a sound sleep. “What is it, Master?” Cato asked shakily.

“A couple of cutthroats,” I told him, holding my toga out to Cassandra. “There may be some cuts in need of reweaving.”

She took it, yawning. “I hope there aren’t any bloodstains this time. That’s always the hard part, getting the blood out.”

“None of mine,” I assured her. “But I punched one of them in the nose and he may have bled on it.”

“Who cares whose blood it is?” she grumbled. “Blood’s blood.”

Yes, my tearful welcome home was definitely a thing of the past.





7


MY CLIENTS SHOWED UP THE next morning. Word had gotten out. Burrus, my old soldier, was there. So were several others I knew well, along with quite a few that I didn’t. Celer had died childless, and it seemed that his clients had been divided among the rest of the family. There were so many of us that none was burdened with too many of them, but it seemed to me that, as the most penurious of the lot, I should have inherited no more than two or three. Instead, I had eight of them, almost doubling my crowd. I suppose I should have been flattered. It meant that my family believed I had a political future, if they thought I would need so many.

After a lot of greeting and learning of names, I had a sudden thought and took Burrus aside.

“Burrus, it occurs to me that you’ve been over much of Italy on maneuvers and military operations. Have you ever heard this accent?” Here I spoke a few words in the fashion of my attackers. I had been particularly struck by the odd way they used p for c and placed strong emphasis on dipthongs. Burrus frowned at my amateurish recital, but he also showed recognition.

“If anyone talks that way, it’s the Marsi, up around Lake Fucinus. We did a lot of fighting in that area in the Social War. I was with Pompeius Strabo’s army in that one. It was my first war and bloodier than any I ever saw afterward. Strabo was a hard one. Why, in one day we executed so many prisoners that …”

“Yes, yes,” I interrupted, knowing he could go on all morning. “Strabo was a savage of the old school. But have you heard anyone talking like that lately?”

He shrugged. “Just about every day. The Sabellian lands aren’t far from here, and they bring their livestock and produce to the markets in Rome all the time. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I had a few words with some men who spoke that way recently and I was curious.” The market was probably where I had heard the dialect, among a score of others. Like most Romans I separated accents into “City” and “country” and seldom drew further distinction. The Sabellians were among the many ancient races of Italy, their most prominent people being the Marsi, with whom we had fought a terrible war thirty years before over the demands of the Marsi and other peoples to have their rights as Rome’s allies acknowledged. They were ruthlessly put down, and then, in an almost whimsical fashion, almost all of their demands were granted. Now they were full citizens and an invaluable well of manpower for our legions.

I needed to be able to move about freely that day so I dismissed my clients, reminding them that I would require them all to attend me for the upcoming rites at the Temple of Saturn. Then, with Hermes at my heels, I went out for my morning shave and a walk to the Forum.