John Roberts: A Point of Law

“Better than money,” I pointed out, “there is only honor and public office, which he is unlikely to attain if he follows this course.”

“Men value different things,” she said. “Not everyone is a Roman of great family.”

“This is quite true,” I agreed. “We need to find out who this man is. We haven’t a great deal of time to do it in.”

She glanced at the slant of sunlight pouring through the triclinium door. “It’s not late yet. I think I’ll go pay Fulvia a call. She is still at the house of Clodius, I believe. She is so snubbed by women of quality that she’ll be eager to talk.”

“You be careful around that woman,” I told her. “Take along some of my clients, the ex-legionaries and brawlers.”

“A Caesar needs no bodyguard,” she said contemptuously. Julia always saw her status as Caesar’s niece as a sort of invisible armor protecting her wherever she went. I saw it more as an archer’s mark painted between her shoulder blades.

I arrived at my father’s house just as the sun was setting. Hermes was with me, and I had stopped by the houses of a few friends, men of high rank and good reputation, whose support I could count upon. There was already a goodly crowd outside the gate, servants, clients, and supporters of the important men already gathered within.

As I approached the gate a large litter arrived. It was Hortalus, who had grown too old, stout, and infirm to walk great distances. He was already dressed in his striped augur’s robe and carried the lituus: the crook-topped staff of that sacred office. With him was the eminent Appius Claudius Pulcher, a very distinguished soldier and administrator. He was standing for censor and was sure to be elected. This man was the elder brother of Clodius; but he was a man of entirely different character, and I had never had any but cordial relations with him.

Inside, a sizable chunk of Rome’s senatorial power was assembled. I qualify this because the real power was elsewhere, fighting Gauls and Parthians.

“Here’s Hortensius,” Metellus Scipio said, as we came in. “That was a good stab you got in today about the unspeakable year. Was it true?”

“Oh, yes,” Hortalus said. “I never lie about legal precedents. I wish that sort of opening came my way more often in court.”

“I’ve been wondering about that,” I said. “Aside from the fact that Fulvius steals the words of better men, where was he likely to have learned them?”

“Aulus Sulpicius Galba is the great scholar of the jurisprudence of that era,” said Hortalus. “He used to make all his students memorize the orations of Billienus.”

“Used to?” I said.

“He retired from Roman practice at least twenty years ago. We rarely see him here now. Last I heard he was teaching law in Baiae and has been elected duumvir of the town.”

“If I could be the most important man in Baiae,” I said, “I wouldn’t be in Rome either. Well, that much makes sense. Fulvius is from Baiae, so he must have studied law there under Galba.”

“Nobody here knows much about Fulvius,” Father said. “He’s been in the City only a few months at most.”

“Appius,” said Creticus, who held a huge goblet of wine, “not to dredge up any family scandals, but do you know anything about him? He is a relative of yours by marriage.”

“I never heard of him before today,” Appius Claudius said. “I had little to do with my brother his last few years and even less with his wife. This brother of hers never approached me for patronage and wouldn’t have got it if he had.”

I took a cup from a passing slave. The wine was, mercifully, not as heavily watered as Julia served it.

“Marcus Cato can’t be here tonight,” Scipio said, “but he’s agreed to begin tomorrow’s proceedings with an oration concerning conditions on Cyprus. He saw to the Roman annexation of the island, and he briefed Decius before he went out there. We’ve yet to locate any citizens who were there during Decius’s activities against the pirates, and we’re unlikely to anytime soon. We have, however, a great many important men ready to testify to his splendid character.”

“He’ll have more, swearing what an utter, degenerate criminal and pervert I am,” I pointed out.

“What’s more, his witnesses will be more believable,” Creticus said, raising a general laugh at my expense.

“Your aedileship was the most popular since Caesar’s,” Scipio pointed out. “The plebeians will be solidly behind you.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “but virtually all my fines and prosecutions were leveled against crooked contractors, dishonest entrepreneurs, violators of the business and building codes, all of them equites . Guess who will be on the jury.”

“ Equites , of course,” Father replied. “In Sulla’s day, a senator was tried before his peers.” I could have pointed out the injustice of that policy, but at that moment I was entirely in agreement with the bloody old butcher.

“Perhaps,” I said, “we’re approaching this from the wrong direction.” I sketched the possibility Julia had raised. Of course, I pretended that it had been my idea.

“I don’t believe that his odd phrasing escaped any of us who were there,” Hortalus said. “ ‘The mighty Caecilius Metellus’ indeed! I, too, am inclined to think that this represents an attack on the whole gens Caecilia.”

“I agree,” Father said. “Has anyone any better idea?” None had. “Very well. The fact remains that the form this attack has taken is a personal one against my son. As such we must address it, and we have three days to clear this matter up so that we can get Decius the younger elected praetor.”

“Now,” Creticus said, “we need to discuss the various underhanded ways we can counter this exceedingly underhanded offensive. Scipio, will Pompey intervene for us?”

Scipio’s daughter, widow of Publius Crassus who had died at Carrhae, had married Pompey, a man somewhat older than her father. The old boy was quite besotted with her, and when his father-in-law was prosecuted Pompey called the jury together at his own house and asked personally for an acquittal. Scipio was immediately cleared of all charges and carried from the Forum on the shoulders of the men who were to have tried him.

“That won’t work twice,” Scipio said. “He earned enough resentment last time. To do it again, for a member of the same family, could turn the whole Senate against him.”

“How about a bribe?” Father asked. He saw my mouth open and pointed a bony finger at my face. “None of your delicate scruples now, Son. This is politics at its dirtiest, and bribing the fellow may turn out to be the easiest, simplest, and, in the long run, cheapest way to go. How much of your pirate loot remains?”

“Very little. After the monument and the new roof of the portico, clearing my debts, and my donation to the Treasury, there’s barely enough remaining to support my state as praetor.” The praetorship wasn’t as costly an office as the aedileship, but my expenses would still be heavy: compensation for my clients, who would attend me every court day; regular gifts for my lictors; and the lavish entertaining expected of an office holder.

“You shouldn’t have given so much to the Treasury,” Creticus said.

“We could all lend you a few talents to buy the man off,” Scipio suggested.

“He won’t be bought if it’s the family he’s after,” I pointed out. Once again I presented Julia’s suspicions as my own.

“So who can afford to outspend us?” Scipio asked. “Or place him in high office? The only likely suspects are Caesar and Pompey, and it makes little sense for either of them to do this.”

“There are other men of ambition,” said Appius Claudius. “Desperate men who can’t climb by constitutional means are apt to employ desperate tactics.”