There were loud cries of agreement at this, and that it only stood to reason and why hadn’t someone thought of this before?
“This man knows his business,” Hermes muttered.
“Studied under a master, so they say,” I commented.
“Why,” Vibianus said when the hubbub died down, “would anyone go to such lengths to kill Gelon, a man destined for the cross already? If someone put those bandits up to their attack, might the intended victim not more likely be our esteemed praetor peregrinus?” He did not point at me in vulgar fashion but merely indicated me with a wave of his hand.
“Explain yourself,” I said.
“Noble Praetor, you seem to us the most just and blameless of men, and who can deny your valor, when you took a personal part in the fighting despite your praetorian dignity? Yet yours is a very great family, one important in the public life of Rome for many generations. What family of such eminence lacks enemies? We all know very well that yours does not. Some years ago you personally investigated the death of the illustrious Metellus Celer, your kinsman, and did you find any lack of suspects with motive to slay him?”
He did not wait for an answer but whirled to face the crowd. “Citizens, these are perilous times in Rome, when lines are being drawn and sides taken. In such times great men always walk in danger, often only because of their family affiliation. A Caecilius Metellus like our praetor, scion of one of the most powerful senatorial families, has many such enemies. Thus I feel confident in dismissing that unfortunate attack from serious consideration as indication of some sort of criminal conspiracy toward the defendant. Let us look rather into the circumstances of the murder itself.”
He made a gesture indicating an invitation to calm and rational discourse. “All know that Gelon was infatuated by the beauty of Gorgo. No one has claimed that she in any way encouxaged or acknowledged this attention. Her father disapproved in the strongest terms. As a good and dutiful daughter, she agreed that these unwelcome advances must not be allowed. Therefore, she went out on that fateful night to tell him that he must cease his futile courtship.” He paused and surveyed his audience solemnly. “Citizens, it seems that the boy did not take this rejection calmly.”
He straightened and readjusted his toga. “Now, in similar circumstances, you or I might take such news ill. In fact, I daresay many of us have been the recipients of just such unwelcome tidings, when we were young men courting ladies who perhaps did not share our youthful passion. How did we react? Certainly with chagrin. Perhaps with anger and harsh words. But with violence? Never! We behaved as gentlemen and as Romans. At least, I hope we did.
“But over there”—he leveled a beringed finger at Gelon—“you do not see a Roman or a gentleman. Look past those pretty features and you see a foreigner, a barbarian! Ignore his princely airs. For all his wealth and fine horses he is still just a primitive tribesman with no more concept of civilized behavior than a caged beast! He could ape the manners of his betters, but he is nothing but the son of a barbarian slaver! He could imitate the graces of a wellborn youth courting a lady of his own class, but when she rejected him, he behaved like the savage he truly is: with rage and the lust to punish and kill one who had insulted him!”
The crowd growled and shouted. My lictors pounded the butts of their fasces on the dais for order, but the crowd was in no mood to pay them any attention. I snapped my fingers and one of Julia’s pages came forward with a lituus: a long, straight, bronze trumpet sharply curved at its sounding end, so called for its resemblance to the hooked augur’s staff of the same name. It is the horn used for signaling in the cavalry. He placed its mouthpiece to his lips and winded a long blast. At the eerie, high-pitched note the crowd stilled. Then amid a clatter of hoofs, the glittering turma rode into the forum with the even more glittering Sublicius Pansa in the lead. They ranged themselves before the dais, facing outward.
“Praetor!” Vibianus cried. “This is not necessary! There is no danger.”
For the first time I stood. “I intend to see that there will be no danger. I will have order in this court and I will enforce it. All spectators will keep their voices down.” It was quite futile to demand that Italians of any sort keep entirely silent. “At the first call for violence or mob action, I will set these men on you. If you think that I speak idly, recall that I have carried through on everything that I have said during my stay among you and that I do not shrink from taking the strongest action.” I gazed around and saw discontent but no open defiance. “Now, Vibianus, please continue, but I abjure you to refrain from inflammatory rhetoric.”