I all but let my cup clatter to the floor. “Jove preserve us! You mean the Germans are across the Rhine again?”
“So it would seem. Only mercenaries so far, but they have a new and apparently ambitious king, one Ariovistus. Last I heard, the king was still east of the Rhine; but my sources say that there may be more than a hundred thousand German warriors on the western bank already, and the Germans have coveted the rich lands of Gaul for a long, long time.”
I groaned. As a rule, foreigners come in three sorts. There are the comical ones, like Egyptians and Syrians. Then there are the ones who are both comical and scary, like the Gauls. And then there are the Germans, who are just plain terrifying.
“Surely the Senate isn’t sending Caesar into Gaul with a mandate to drive the Germans out?”
“By no means. I suspect that Caesar will first ensure that the Helvetii do not migrate into Roman territory. That is what has been feared for years. He cannot very well march to the Rhine and leave them at his back. I think he intends to crush the Helvetii, then wheel northeast and take on the Germans and their Gallic allies.” He gave me a self-deprecating smile. “Of course, that is just my theory. I am not a military man.”
Lisas dealt with the world from his embassy, but he knew how to interpret a map and he had a sound grasp of politics as it is played on a world scale. I did not doubt that he was very close to the truth of the situation. Roman territory did not extend to the Rhine, but for generations we had considered it our unofficial border. If the Germans crossed, it was a sign of hostility.
“Nobody ever gained great wealth fighting Germans,” I said. “Gauls are a wealthy people by comparison.”
“But one may win glory and a triumph,” Lisas pointed out. “And who was the last Roman to defeat the Germans?”
“Marius, of course,” I said. “At Aquae Sextiae and Vercellae.”
“And what is Caesar’s dearest wish except to be the new Marius? He has courted the populares for his whole career, always stressing that Marius was his uncle by marriage.”
“It makes sense,” I admitted. “But it amazes me that even a man like Caesar can believe that he has what it takes to beat the Germans! A few victories in Spain don’t amount to all that much. By the time Marius fought those battles, he’d all but built his legions from scratch and led them to victory for twenty years. You can’t just take charge of established legions as a new proconsul and expect that sort of performance and loyalty.” I knew as I said it that I was probably wrong. Everyone, myself included, had underestimated Caesar for years.
“Caesar has a genius for persuading the common people. Men don’t come any more common that legionaries. They are the most powerful force in the world, more powerful than politicians and consuls, more powerful than the Senate. Marius knew that and so did Sulla. Pompey never understood it, and so his sun is setting.”
As I took my leave of him, Lisas led me out by the arm. “Decius, my friend, as always I rejoice to see you, but I did not expect to see you until after the tribuneship of Clodius should expire at the end of next year.” He had given me some inside information, now he expected the favor to be returned.
“I must confess that I am surprised as well. I was recalled from Rhodes unexpectedly. It has something to do with Celer’s death.”
His eyes lit up with conspiratorial delight. “A most distinguished man. We were stricken with grief at his untimely passing. Your family expects you to exercise your … unique talents in the matter.”
“I can’t imagine why else they want me here. I’m not a family favorite.”
“But you have a brilliant future before you,” he effused. “I am sure that, in a decade or two, you shall be the most prominent of all the Metelli. You must come see me often while you are in Rome. I may be able to help you. I hear things.” And, of course, he wanted me to pass on anything I might learn. It might be a fair trade.
I had little confidence in his predictions about my bright future. At that time the only way to achieve prominence in Roman life was through military glory or extreme longevity (Cicero, as always, was the exception). I detested military life and my prospects of reaching my fortieth year were exceedingly slim. Oddly, I actually have reached the distinction Lisas predicted so many years ago, although in a way neither of us could have dreamed. I am the only Caecilian of my generation still alive.
But he was wrong about Caesar. Caesar wasn’t interested in being the new Marius; he wanted to be the one and only Julius Caesar.
3
THE MEETING WAS HELD IN MY father’s house. The janitor opened the door when Hermes knocked and we went inside. The old mansion was eerily quiet.