John Roberts - A Point of Law

“Why?” asked the old senator. “Aren’t Pompey and Caesar still pretending to be friends? Since that dog Clodius was killed, Caesar’s had no flunky to run the city for him. Young Curio’s father was a good man. He was one of us! This boy won’t be near the rabble-rouser Clodius was. Why should Pompey want him dead?”

“Besides,” the young senator put in, “if there’s one thing Pompey knows how to accomplish well, it’s killing people. He wouldn’t send incompetents to have a man done away with. He’d send a few of his old centurions, men who know how to do their master’s bidding and keep their mouths shut about it afterward.”

“Whoever it was,” said a voice I recognized, “they certainly got that wild woman excited.” Sallustius Crispus lowered himself into the bath. I hadn’t seen him come in. “She might have gotten another riot going except for one thing.”

“What’s that?” asked the eques .

“Didn’t anybody notice?” Sallustius said, grinning. “She never said just who she wanted killed-because she didn’t know.”

“Sounded to me like she wanted the heads of the whole Senate hung up on the Rostra,” the young senator said.

“A rhetorical excess, I’m sure.” Sallustius caught sight of me then, or pretended to. “Why, Decius Caecilius, I seem to run into you wherever I go.”

“He’s standing for praetor,” somebody said. “There’s no getting away from a candidate.”

“He’d wear his toga candida in the bath, if he could get away with it,” said another, amid general laughter. That was fine with me. The last thing I wanted at that moment was to be taken too seriously. Gradually the talk turned to other things. As I expected, Sallustius was there when I resumed my clothing.

“All right, Sallustius, you’ve been dying to say something. What is it?”

“Our friend Curio, of course, is saying nothing about the men who attacked him, save that they were inept. His friends and supporters, however, are not so reticent.”

“Oh? What are they saying?”

“That it was not Curio’s enemies who attacked him, that it was Caesar’s enemies.”

“I see. Supporting Caesar has exposed him to attack from the vile and underhanded optimates , eh?”

“Oh, yes. Very much so. And what a brave man he is to have survived the attack. How becomingly modest to act as if it were a trifling brawl, instead of the Homeric combat his friends are describing this very day. I saw him just a little while ago in the Forum, his head wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage.”

I had to smile. Curio’s little charade seemed to be working splendidly. Had I not so inopportunely sent Asklepiodes to tend to him, he probably would have had himself carried to the Forum on a litter, looking ready to expire but proclaiming himself to be prepared to take office and serve the People of Rome despite his near-mortal injuries.

We walked out of the dressing room and out into the pillared arcade that fronted the balnea . Beyond the steps, between the walls of two temples, we could see a small part of the Forum, including the old sundial from Syracuse. People continued to climb the steps in search of a bath, many of them senators. I was obliged to nod and greet most of them in passing but managed to handle our conversation in the meantime.

“So this raises not only his own standing, but Caesar’s as well?”

“As if he needed it. You escorted Fulvia home, did you not? How did you find Curio?”

“Just as she described him: poor man was at death’s door, bleeding like he’d been beheaded. I was in the act of sticking a denarius under his tongue when he revived and begged to return to his public duties.” I was probably enjoying this too much. I have a tendency to do that. Sallustius certainly took it wrong.

“I see. Then you have finally got off the fence and declared for Caesar? Good choice. You won’t regret it.”

“Nothing of the sort! And don’t go around telling anybody that I’m in Caesar’s camp because I’m not!”

He winked. “Of course, I understand perfectly.” Sometimes I truly hated the man.

“So how do you interpret this business?” I asked.

“I find myself wondering a few things. For instance, how did these attackers know to ambush Curio outside Fulvia’s door?”

“They intend to marry. It’s no secret and one really doesn’t expect a woman like Fulvia to wait until the vows have been made and the hymns to Hymenaeus have been sung.”

“That is so,” he said, nodding sagely. “Yet a good many people have not yet heard of these proposed nuptials. Most of us were still under the impression that Clodius’s widow was to marry Marcus Antonius, even now earning laurels in Gaul. Most of Curio’s friends do not yet know. How did his enemies come to learn of it?”

“I’m sure I haven’t the foggiest,” I told him. Guarding Curio’s secrets was no concern of mine, but something made me unwilling to communicate anything to Sallustius.

“In fact,” he went on relentlessly, “last night I attended a meeting of, shall we say, the inner circle of Caesar’s supporters here in Rome at the house of Caius Antonius the quaestor and brother of Marcus Antonius. Do you know him?”

“Who can avoid knowing the brothers Antonius? They’re always either committing some crime or prosecuting somebody else for doing the same. For a pair of disreputable drunks, they’re a lot of fun, most of the time. Your meeting must have been enjoyable.”

“Oh, it was all very serious for a change,” he said. “We discussed how we were going to manage the voting now that Caesar’s men are here. A great many of those soldiers have never even seen Rome, much less voted in an election here, so there was much discussion about how to see that all runs smoothly. Curio was there, among others.”

“I would expect him to be, now that he’s changed sides.”

“Yes, just so. After the meeting, a crowd of us walked through the City, each man leaving the group as we neared his home. As it happened, we passed right by Curio’s door. He left us there, nowhere near the Clivus Victoriae. He gave us no indication that he feared attack either.”

“No doubt he didn’t wish to besmirch his future bride’s reputation.” I said this with a straight face.

“That must have been it. Once we were safely away, he tiptoed his way through Rome’s night-darkened streets and was seen by his enemies, who have a batlike ability to find their prey in the dark. They decided to let him spend a last night with his beloved before attacking, possibly as a courtesy.”

I spread my hands in a gesture of helplessness. “The world teems with mysteries. Personally, I wonder how the ocean stays where it is. Why doesn’t it run off the edge of the world?”

“You should ask that Alexandrian woman you’ve been visiting. She is said to be a great scholar.”

Trust Sallustius to jab at you from an unexpected direction. Talking with him was like fighting with a left-handed swordsman. I thought I kept my face impassive, being well schooled in that art, but he was as perceptive as he was devious.

“We’ve discussed mathematics and language,” I said. “The subject of cosmology has never come up. Now that you mention it, I must remember to ask.”

“She’s a great beauty, too. I’ve attended her salon on a number of occasions. Your taste in women is, as always, impeccable.”

“Oh, she and Julia are great friends. Whatever poor reputation I have stems from my young and foolish days.”

“Really? Since Fulvius made his denunciation three days ago, everyone assumes you seduced, or were seduced by, Princess Cleopatra.”

“She’s just a girl. Besides, she’s royalty and I am a mere Roman senator. And a plebeian at that.” I thought I was restraining my temper admirably.