The Tribune's Curse(75)

“And he is from Cumae,” Claudius said. “The sibyl there is said to know all things concerning Italy and the gods, although she usually keeps these things to herself. He might have learned it from the sibyl herself.”

There had always been a sibyl at Cumae. The succession was supposed to be adoptive. Some of them were famous prophetesses, but many were obscure. I had never paid much attention.

“I’ll have the whole peninsula scoured for him,” Pompey said. “If the bugger’s still alive, I’ll have him brought back to Rome for interrogation.”

Or, I thought, he’ll be murdered upon apprehension, if he’s another of your tools. I was careful not to say this aloud.

“Consul,” I said, “ten years ago, Ateius served on the staff of your proquaestor, Marcus Aemilius Scaurus, in Syria. Might they have had any contact with the Parthians?”

He rubbed his chin, thinking. He did not seem to me to be apprehensive that this was getting a little too close to him. I certainly hoped not.

“Let me see—I negotiated a boundary dispute that year, between Armenia and Parthia. Phraates was king of Parthia back then, the father of the present king. I don’t remember whether I’d sent Aemilius south by that time or not. In any case, the princes weren’t present. There were two of them at the time. They killed the old man, and the elder seized the throne; then he was kicked out by the council of nobles, and the younger took over. That’s Orodes.”

“Aemilius stopped in Damascus on his way to Judea,” I said. “That’s where he consulted with Elagabal. Is it possible that Orodes was in Damascus at that time?”

“Anything’s possible,” Pompey said impatiently. “Do you think Orodes could be behind this? He certainly has plenty of reason to lay a curse on Crassus.”

“I don’t want to discount the possibility,” I said.

Pompey barked a humorless laugh. “I hope he isn’t. I bear no love for him, but it’s a little difficult to go out and arrest a foreign king. The only way to bring him back is in chains behind a triumphator’s chariot.”

“Crassus may do just that,” said Clodius with his usual consummate lack of tact. Pompey gave him a poisonous look. It was good to have his wrath directed elsewhere.

“We need something better than this,” Cato said. “Decius, you have one more day to get some results; then we can all prepare to see the City go up in flames.”

“I’ll have him by tomorrow evening,” I promised. It was as empty a promise as I had ever made, but by that time my options were severely limited.

There was a little more talk, most of it commentary upon the inadequacy of my investigation; then it broke up. I went out of the building with Milo. As we went down the steps, rough shapes detached themselves from the deepening shadows and formed a barrier around us. They were Milo’s closest thugs.

“Now give me the real story,” Milo said.

I knew better than to prevaricate with Titus Milo. I laid out my findings and my suspicions. As usual he was perfectly silent, absorbing everything. Then he was silent for a while longer, thinking about it all.

“Pompey definitely has the most to gain from this,” he said at last. “And Julia is right: Pompey is far more intelligent than most people give him credit for being. It is subtle for him, but he’s learned to be subtle in the years he’s been separated from his legions.”

“But would he kill a tribune, knowing that it would cause a riot?”

Milo shrugged. “Rome’s burned before. It always gets rebuilt. The City doesn’t mean much to Pompey. He only cares about the army. He’s complaining about this crisis in Egypt, but it’s like a gift from the gods for him. All day the senators have been talking about a special command for him to go to Egypt and sort out the mess.”

“To do it he’d have to have next year’s tribunes behind him,” I said.

“Pompey always has enough tribunes bought up to get his commands pushed through the Popular Assemblies. I don’t see him setting himself up as the first Roman pharaoh, but he might well install a puppet who would act as his personal client.”

I shook my head. “It could be Pompey, but I can’t get rid of the feeling that I’m letting my dislike of him cause me to overlook something obvious.”

“You’d better get it figured out soon,” he advised.

“Everybody seems determined to remind me of that,” I told him.





13


IAWOKE IN A STATE OF ANXIETY. This would be my last day to find the killer or killers. I had to stop a riot. I had to satisfy the gods. I had to save Rome. Needless to say, my wife was very annoyed with my behavior.