The King's Gambit(49)

The sad fact is that in those days we were mad. We fought class against class, family against family. We had even fought a war of masters against slaves. Many nations have been destroyed by civil war and internecine struggle. Rome always emerged stronger from each of these conflicts, another proof of our unique character. At this time, the infighting was between two parties: the Optimates, who thought themselves made up of the best men, an aristocratic oligarchy; and the Populares, who claimed to be the party of the common man. Actually the politicians of both parties had no ideals beyond their own betterment. Pompey, a former colleague of Sulla, was a leader of the Optimates, while Caius Julius Caesar, although a patrician, was a rising leader of the Populares. Caesar’s uncle by marriage had been the great Marius, and the name of Marius was still revered by the Populares. With leaders like these, the fact that Rome was not easily destroyed by foreign enemies must prove that we enjoy the unique favor of the gods.

All these thoughts came to me at that time, but they did nothing to help solve my problem. And now I had another thing to consider. My father’s wistful hope that the whole affair would be passed on to the next year’s magistrates had reminded me that time was getting short. I had only about a month before the new magistrates took office. The committee positions are by appointment, not by the annual elections, but I had a strong suspicion that the next set of praetors would have their own favorites to appoint, and I would be out. This was when we were still using the old calendar, which would get out of order every few years, so that the Pontifex Maximus would have to declare an extra month. That year, the new year would begin on about the first of January, as it does now. The new calendar was one of Caesar’s better ideas. (At least, he called it his calendar. It was Cleopatra’s court astronomer, Sosigenes, who actually created it, and in truth it was Caesar’s own neglect of his duties when he was Pontifex Maximus that got the old calendar into such dreadful shape in the first place. That’s something you won’t find in the histories written later by his lackeys.)

The oddest thing was that Pompey, or Crassus, or any of the praetors could have ordered me to cease my investigations, or to turn in a false report. Undoubtedly they wanted to do just that. After the chaos of the past years, however, our rulers were determined to follow constitutional forms, and to avoid any stigma of tyranny at all costs.

That did not mean, of course, that they would not stoop to any underhanded way to sabotage my work. Assassination was not out of the question. I was convinced that the only thing preserving me from these more extreme measures was my family’s prestige. Both parties were courting the Metel-lans. We had an ancient reputation for moderation and levelheadedness in government. Metellans had always opposed the fanatical extremes of the various parties. As a result we had an enviable reputation with aristocrats and commoners alike, and only someone bent on political suicide would attack one of us too blatantly.

Still, I did not take great comfort in this knowledge. I have already mentioned the extreme recklessness of our politicians, and I did not yet know how desperate this vat of corruption might make them. So far, each man who might have led me to the solution of this puzzle had been murdered.

Then I remembered that there might be another. The merchant Zabbai had said that the pirates maintained an agent at Ostia. The port town was not more than fifteen miles from Rome, using either the river or the Via Ostiensis. There was a chance that he might be able to supply me with some much-needed information. It was worth a try, anyway. I determined to go immediately.

I returned to my house and filled a small purse from my chronically underweight money-chest and found my traveling cloak, the same close-woven woolen garment I had worn when campaigning in Spain. I left word with Cato not to expect me back until late the next day and left my house.

I had only the slightest knowledge of Ostia, so I decided to take a guide with me, and I knew just the man for the job. I went to pay a visit to Macro.

He was surprised to see rne. “Decius Caecilius, I was not expecting you. I still haven’t received word of that estate manager in Baiae. I should know in two or three days.”

“Excellent. As it occurs, I’m here about something else. I have to go to Ostia immediately and I need a guide, since I’ll be calling on some less-than-official people. Lend me your boy Milo. I’ll have him back to you by tomorrow evening.”

“Certainly,” Macro said. He sent a slave running to fetch Milo.

“Possibly you could help me further. I need to contact the agent who negotiates for the pirates in Ostia. Do you know his name and where he’s to be found?”