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The King's Gambit(68)

By:John Maddox Roberts


I cared, of course, but I found myself in a distinct minority. Very well: I had no chance against Pompey or Crassus, or even Hortalus. I could at least pursue the immediate murderers of the residents of my district. It was a poor accomplishment in light of the larger issues, but it was within my power. If I could stay alive.

The day had warmed slightly, heating the Roman blood to a level of moderate activity. The markets in the Forum were bustling. Some sold country produce, but I noticed an inordinate number of fortune-tellers’ booths. Fortune-tellers were periodically banished from the city, but the last such action had been a year or two before, so they had dribbled back in. I noticed that there were long lines at the booths of the various bone-tossers, star-readers, snake-diviners and other such charlatans. It was a sign of unrest in the city. In times of great uncertainty, a single lunatic prophet could send the urban mob into a panic culminating in a full-blown riot.

At the base of the Rostra I saw Caesar talking with a mixed group of Senators and ordinary citizens. He had so far amounted to little politically, but he had demonstrated an extraordinary ability to sway the Centuriate Assembly and had secured himself a quaestorship for the next year. He caught my eye and gestured for me to join him.

“Decius, have you heard?” he said. “A special session of the Senate has been scheduled for tonight.” The ban on public business expired at sunset.

“I hadn’t,” I admitted. “Is it about Lucullus?”

“What else?” said one of the Senators, a man I didn’t know. “I suspect that we’ll vote on a recall for Lucullus.”

“I doubt that,” Caesar said. “It would mean handing Pompey the Eastern command, and his party is not strong enough to force that through. What we’ll see tonight is a senatorial decree ordering Lucullus not to invade Armenia.” He spoke as if he were already a Senator, which he would not be until he finished his quaestorship. In later years he would not express his opinions so freely in casual conversation, at least until the time when there was no man left to gainsay him. At this time, though, he was as extravagant with his speech as with his debts.

“I suppose I’ll hear about it in the morning,” I said, “like the rest of the citizenry.”

Caesar took his leave of the others and began to stroll with me, his hand on my shoulder, head down, a signal to all that we were engaged in private conversation.

“Have you had any luck in your murder investigation?” he asked.

“Luck was scarcely involved, except perhaps for my own survival. I have it all now, except for the identity of the actual murderer of Sinistrus and Paulus.” It was reckless to speak thus to Caesar, who I thought was probably involved in the conspiracy, at least peripherally.

He looked at me sharply. “ ‘All’? “

“Eggs to apples,” I assured him cheerfully. I had just discovered that I no longer cared whom he talked to. “All that remains is to find the killer, and I shall make my report to the Senate, all names included. On that basis I shall subpoena certain papers deposited in the Temple of Vesta for extralegal purposes.”

Caesar was thunderstruck. “That would call for a special instruction to the Senate from the Pontifex Maximus.”

“I think he will give that instruction when he understands that a genuine danger to the state exists.” The holder of the high priesthood at that time was Quintus Mucius Scae-vola, who besides his religious office was a famous jurisconsult. He had trained Cicero in constitutional law. I was speaking with a great deal of bluff and bravado, but I saw no other way to precipitate events, having reached a blind alley in my investigation.

“Decius,” he said in a low voice, “if I were you, since it seems you are bent on self-destruction, I would stay in my house during the hours of darkness. This city is no longer a safe place for you. It is possible, if you are very discreet, that you may get out of this merely exiled instead of dead. I speak as a friend.”

I shook off his hand. “I speak as an official of Rome. I will pursue this until the murderers are brought to justice.” I walked away, followed by many curious eyes. Was Caesar trying to be my friend? Even now I cannot say. Caesar was everyone’s friend when he was on his way up. It is the politician’s art. But he was a complex creature, and I cannot say that he utterly lacked a desire for the friendship of others, especially those who possessed a probity totally absent in his own character. I can only state that, in later years, he more than once spared me when we were enemies and the power, as usual, was all his.

I was not in the Forum long before I noticed that many men, especially Senators, were avoiding me, fading into the crowd if I seemed to be moving in their direction. There was also muttering behind my back. While no one actually pelted me with unpleasant substances, the atmosphere was ugly enough for it. The strangest thing was that scarcely one in fifty of those gathered in the Forum could have known why I was a pariah so suddenly.