John Roberts - The Will

"We're trying to find his father's will," the big, soldierly-looking fellow informed me. The odd youth seated next to him just looked at me with a wide-eyed, reptilian stare. I detested him without even knowing who he was.

"I see, and who might this father be?"

"Caesar," said the big man. A closer look told me he was little older than the other. His size and his tough looks made him seem the elder.

I contributed to the silence that followed. This was not the sort of thing one expected to hear on an otherwise unexceptionable morning in Rome. Now I gave the wide-eyed boy a closer look. He was scrawny, with a big head on a thin neck and a shock of unruly, light-coloured hair. I couldn't see much family resemblance. He had the beginnings of a straggly beard and wore a dark, dingy toga, both tokens of mourning. A lot of Romans were wearing mourning at that time.

"Then you would be young Octavius?" I said.

"I am Caius Julius Caesar," he said stiffly, then added, "Octavianus." He gestured to the larger man. "And this is Marcus Agrippa. I am Caesar's son and I have come to Rome to receive my legacy."

"Good luck," I told him. "I hear that Antonius has pretty well laid hands on all of Caesar's property and he's not a man to provoke. I'd advise you to go back to Athens or wherever you were and write him a nice letter. He might let you have some of the land and Caesar's library. Antonius doesn't have much use for books."

"It was Appolonia," Agrippa growled. "It's in Illyria."

Of course I knew where Appolonia was. I'd been there. I also knew that young Octavian had been sent there. There was just something about the boy that made me want to needle him. A character failing of mine, I suppose, but nothing that happened later caused me to alter my first impression.

"I am Caesar's heir and I've come to claim what it mine by right!" The way he said this was profoundly unsettling. In spite of myself, I was reminded of our recently deceased Dictator.

"You were Caesar's friend," Agrippa said. "You are married to his niece. You should want to see his will carried out."

"I would very much like to see the provisions of Caesar's will carried out," I told them. "He left me a generous bequest. But what I really, truly want above all is not to be murdered like he was. Being murdered is a messy business and it can ruin a perfectly good toga. Defying Antonius is a good way to get murdered. He's a nice enough fellow, don't get me wrong. I've always gotten on well with him and I've helped him out of a few scrapes. But he is an Antonius and the Antonu are a family of hereditary criminals. He likes to keep what he's seized and he's surrounded by friends who love to put obstacles out of his path."

Agrippa snorted. "In Greece we were told that Metellus was a man who could get things done, that he's a man who doesn't frighten easily." I was getting to be known by a single name in those days, mainly because the prominent men of my family had been killed or exiled in the last round of civil wars. They had backed Pompey and that was the sort of mistake you didn't make twice. I was about the only prominent Caecilius Metellus left in Rome, and trying to keep my head down.

"Listen," I said. "I was there when Caesar's will was read at the house of Calpurnius Piso. Believe me, it was almost worth not getting my bequest just to see the look on Antonius's face when he learned that the vast bulk of the estate was going to you," I nodded at Octavian, "and your little brother. And of course there were the 300 sesterces per citizen and the great gardens, which he left to the public: Antonius didn't dare interfere with those. He does love being the darling of the people." I could see the boy's jaw clench at mention of the gardens and the money. Clearly he thought it should all be his, no matter what his adoptive father had wished.

I was getting tired of this. "Rome has always been a hazardous place," I told them. "Right now it is a very deadly place, especially for men of ambition. Soon, I fear, we shall see the old days of Marius and Sulla again: proscription lists and paid informers and blood in the streets. Only this time there will be no men of the stature of those two, just a pack of second-raters tearing at Rome and at each other like dogs fighting over a carcass. At least Marius whipped the barbarians and Sulla gave us a fine constitution. The current lot will ruin the empire through pure incompetence."

"None of that matters," Octavian said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.

"All the property, the money, even the provinces they are so busy apportioning to themselves. Caesar's strength wasn't in his wealth but in his soldiers. The one who commands their loyalty will be the new master of Rome." Agrippa cut an impatient look at him, obviously wishing he'd keep his mouth shut. But, for some reason, the boy was the dominant of the two.

For my own part, I just gaped. We seldom encounter such presumption in one so young. Clodius at his worst wasn't a match for this one. "I don't think we need-" I was cut short by the timely arrival of my wife, Julia.

"Caius!" she cried delightedly, clapping her hands. She rushed to embrace the little lout. "And you must be Marcus Agrippa. Why, you've both grown so much since I last saw you!" As if that were some sort of accomplishment.

"How wonderful to see you, cousin!" said the boy, and to my amazement his face lit up with unfeigned pleasure. Well, Julia could charm a Parthian off his horse. "We've been speaking with this-with your distinguished husband, who seems to have been out of Rome on my previous visits." This was not quite the case. I'd just never bothered to go to any of his appearances and Caesar had packed him off to Illyria when things got lively at home.

"We think your husband could help us with a difficulty we have," Agrippa added.

"And I am sure he will be most happy to render you every assistance," said my ever-helpful wife. I tried to signal her, but as usual she ignored me. "What is the problem?"

"It's Antonius," Octavian said. "He's confiscated Caesar's will and all his other papers. The provisions of the will are public knowledge but that isn't worth much without the original document. Besides, I believe that in his other writings, my father makes it known that I am to succeed to his other offices and powers."

I couldn't help wincing every time he referred to Caesar as his father. I had had a decidedly mixed experience with that strange and difficult person, but he was the one truly great man I had ever known; as close to being a demigod as a mortal ever gets. To hear this little wretch claim paternity of such a father was ludicrous. And among Caesar's many offices was that of Dictator. Surely he wasn't claiming that, too?

"Intolerable!" cried Julia. "Antonius is such an odious man! I never understood Caesar's regard for him, except as a soldier. He should have taken action against the assassins and other conspirators instantly. Instead, he has made peace with them. It is a dishonour and a disgrace!" I had explained to her the many very good reasons why Antonius had been unable to do so, but she refused to accept them. Julia had a blind spot where her beloved uncle was concerned.

"I could not agree more, cousin," the boy said, with Agrippa nodding grimly beside him. "He is a vicious, rapacious villain and he aspires to all of Caesar's honours."

"Don't be too rough on him," I said, pouring myself a Falernian. "He gave Caesar a wonderful funeral speech. Lied through his teeth, of course, but he made the old boy look good and the conspirators look bad." All three of them glared at me, for some reason. That called for yet more Falernian.

"The fact is, my lady," Agrippa said, "we must have those documents to show the soldiers. They are simple men, very impressed by official documents, and they revere the memory of Caesar. Just now Antonius commands their loyalty, as the commander nearest to Caesar at the time of his death, but they are confused just now and could be swayed by lies of the conspirators, or they could attach themselves firmly to Antonius. To press our Caesar's claims, we must have his father's papers."