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The Sacrilege(87)

By:John Maddox Roberts


“Is this all?” he demanded.

“It is,” I said, sick at heart. He snapped his fingers, and a man led up one of the remounts and helped me scramble onto its back. He had a hard, scarred, veteran’s face.

“Attack if you will, Clodius,” Caesar said, radiating contempt. Clodius and his men fell back as we rode through them. I looked back at the doorway and Julia waved shyly. I waved back, rejoicing in my survival, sickened at my defeat. It was an odd sensation, and the situation was rather like one of those tedious Greek dramas.

We passed through the Forum, which was still alive with its surging mobs and its miniature elephant stampede. This night would be remembered for some time to come. I didn’t see Pompey. As we rode through the streets, Caesar read the letter by the light of a torch held by one of his men. When he was finished, he stuffed it into a saddlebag.

“What a young fool, to put something like that in writing,” Caesar said. “Just as well he’s dead. He certainly had no future in Rome.”

We moved out through the Ostian Gate and it closed behind us. After a mile or so, we halted.

“Come with me to Spain, Decius,” Caesar said. “I shall attach you to my staff.”

I shook my head. “My father tells me the family estate in Beneventum is in urgent need of my attention.”

“As you will. You can return to the city in a month or two and all will be forgotten, temporarily. It will be interesting times when we are all back in Rome together again.” He smiled. “As I said, I shall have work for you.”

“I will never do your work, Caius Julius,” I promised.

“You’ll change your mind. And I want you to marry my niece, Julia Minor.”

I gaped, unable to think of anything to say.

“Farewell, Decius,” Caesar said. He wheeled his mount and he and his escort clopped off. I watched until the last glimmerings of torchlight disappeared into the surrounding gloom.

“Caesar’s wife must be above suspicion,” I yelled after them. In spite of everything, I couldn’t help laughing.

These were the events of eleven days in the year 693 of the City of Rome, the Consulship of Calpurnianus and Messala Niger.