The River God's Vengeance(27)

“We’ve been discussing another matter, Aedile,” said Statilius. “Rome needs an amphitheater; and not just a wooden one, but a permanent, stone structure.”

“It’s true,” said a fighter named Crescens. He was tall but lean and sinewy, belonging to the new category of netand-trident fighter. “I’ve fought in the amphitheaters of Capua and Messana. Even Pompeii has a fine one. Yet here in Rome we have to fight in the Forum, where the monuments get in the way, or in the Circus, where half the audience can’t see us on account of the spina.”

“You aren’t telling me anything I don’t know,” I said.

“Since my father founded this school,” Statilius said, “the City has doubled in population, and the typical munera has more than tripled in size. If politicians insist on outdoing each other in the magnitude of their Games, then we must have a proper venue for celebrating them.”

“I’m familiar with the problem,” I told them, “but towns like Pompeii and Capua have advantages over Rome in this regard. They are rich, and they are small. I’ve attended munera in both those amphitheaters; and at full attendance, with people coming in from the nearby villages, they need to hold no more than four or five thousand spectators. Rome would need one big enough to hold at least thirty thousand, even if we restrict attendance to adult, male, freeborn, native citizens as, I remind you, ancient law dictates.”

“That’s a law I’ve never seen enforced,” Milo said ruefully. “If my wife were denied her front-row seat at the fights, Rome would suffer for it.” His men laughed, but uneasily. Milo’s wife was Fausta, daughter of the Dictator Sulla, and high-handed even by patrician standards.

“There you are,” I said. “Include the women, the resident aliens, and the freedmen of limited citizenship rights, and you need an amphitheater that will seat at least a hundred thousand. Who could undertake such an expense? Only Crassus, and he’s sunk everything into his foreign war, from which few expect him to return save in an urn. Pompey might have, but he spent everything on his theater. Lucullus has retired to private life and spends only on himself. Who is left?”

“Caesar,” Milo said, “may return from Gaul very wealthy.”

Now I saw which way this conversation was leading. “That is quite likely. He’s been amassing something of a fortune. Even the wild Gauls, the ones who wear trousers, are not quite the impoverished savages we thought. There’s been a great deal of gold and silver, not to mention all the slaves he’s taken.”

“I can’t approach him about this,” Milo said. “Nothing personal, of course, but everyone knows I support Cicero, while Clodius is Caesar’s man. You, however, are married to his niece.”

“That is so,” I said. This may not have been as strong a tie as he imagined, but I was not one to belittle my infiuence with an important man. This was definitely not the time to tell him about my family’s shift of support toward Pompey. “I could bring up the subject when I write him next. I do so almost every week.”

“After all,” Milo said, “there hasn’t been a great public building erected in Rome to the honor of his family since the Basilica Julia centuries ago.” He rose from his chair, nodded slightly to the others. “Aedile, would you walk with me for a bit? I have some other matters to discuss.” This was more like it. Rome’s lack of a decent amphitheater was not the sort of thing to which Titus Milo dedicated much concern.

The last thing I needed was more walking, but we made a private progress around the portico surrounding the exercise yard.

“Decius,” Milo began, “word has reached me that you are looking into the doings of the publicani, specifically those in the construction business.”

“Word does get around,” I said.

“Then it’s true? I feared so. Decius, perhaps you don’t understand this, but you could end up attacking some of the most important men in Rome.”

“People have been dropping heavy hints to me all day,” I told him, “most notably Sallustius Crispus.”

“That little rat. Well, even a rat can be right upon occasion, and this is one of them.”

“Why so?” An unwelcome suspicion dawned on me. “My old friend, I do hope that you are not involved in this murderous trade?”

“Not personally, but I have clients who are, and some of them have already approached me about this matter. They do not want an aedilician investigation.”

I stopped and faced him. “They do not, eh? Well, I’ve never hauled a felon into court who wanted to be put on trial for his life or freedom. I will prosecute those who violate the laws enforced by my office, however highly placed they may be. And for every client in the building trades, you have a hundred who live in those insulae that keep falling at such an alarming rate.”