Steven Saylor - The Triumph Of Caesar

Which you obviously have never seen, you pompous fool! I thought. The Pharos lighthouse was the tallest building on earth, with a beacon visible across a vast expanse of land and sea, a true wonder of the world. It was likely to still be standing long after Numa's decrepit reckoning of days was long forgotten, supplanted by Caesar's new calendar-which had been devised by scholars from the library established by the Ptolemies.

I refrained from saying any of this. Uncle Gnaeus's boasting was merely a distraction. Calpurnia wanted to know whether Cleopatra or Arsinoe posed any threat to her husband. Hieronymus's notes on his visits were worthless in this regard. I had to rely on my own observations and instincts.

"It's my belief that the Queen of Egypt came to Rome with one goal in mind: to persuade Caesar to acknowledge her son as his offspring."

"Something he will never do!" said Calpurnia. "For one thing, the child isn't Caesar's. Porsenna has studied the matter."

"Is that right?" I said.

The haruspex smiled. "I managed to obtain a few strands of the boy's hair, never mind how. I performed a sacrifice. When the hair and the entrails of the sacrificial beast were burned, the pattern of the smoke clearly indicated that the child has no Roman blood whatsoever. The science of haruspicy is never wrong in such matters."

"It's probably the whelp of that lackey of hers, the one who toted her about inside a carpet," said Uncle Gnaeus. "Any woman who would resort to such an indignity would probably allow even a servant to have his way with her."

I doubted this. If there was anything Cleopatra took seriously, it was the dignity of her person. For a woman who considered herself a goddess, copulation was a serious and sacred matter. "Is Caesar aware of the results of this divination?"

Calpurnia made a face. "Caesar does not always accord sufficient importance to the ancient ways of knowing."

"He observes the rituals, but he lacks true understanding." Uncle Gnaeus shook his head.

"Enough, Uncle!" said Calpurnia sharply. "Now is not the time to discuss Caesar's deficiencies in matters of religious insight. Let the Finder finish his report."

"As I said, the queen came to Rome hoping to establish her son's legitimacy. She hoped tomorrow's triumph might celebrate that event. Her intentions have been thwarted. I think she misunderstood how the Roman people might react to such an announcement. I think she misunderstood the true nature of a Roman triumph. Caesar corrected her mistaken viewpoints."

"What does she intend to do now?" said Calpurnia.

"Cleopatra is a pragmatic woman-pragmatic enough to hide in a carpet if it serves her purpose. But she's also tremendously willful. I wouldn't want to disappoint her. I certainly wouldn't want to be her enemy."

"And is Caesar, having disappointed her, now her enemy?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you should ask Caesar what he thinks. I'm much more certain about the feelings of Princess Arsinoe. I have no doubt that she would do away with both Caesar and Cleopatra, if she possibly could."

"But how could she do such a thing?"

"Does Arsinoe have allies in the city? With your network of agents, you're more likely to know that than I am, Calpurnia."

"But what is your feeling about these Egyptians, Finder? What does your instinct tell you?"

What a question, from the once hardheaded Calpurnia! Had she entirely abandoned cold logic and deduction in favor of divination and intuition?

I sighed. "Here is what I think. Cleopatra almost certainly could kill Caesar if she wanted to, but she probably doesn't. Arsinoe would kill him without hesitation if she could, but she almost certainly can't."

"Then Caesar will survive tomorrow's triumph?" Calpurnia looked at her uncle, then at the haruspex, and finally at me. She was demanding reassurance.

"I have no reason to think otherwise," I said, and prayed to Fortuna that I was right.

Rupa and I crossed the Palatine at twilight. The streets were almost deserted. For many people, this had been a day to recover from the festivities of the Gallic Triumph and to rest up for the next day's Egyptian Triumph. The only people stirring were slaves on ladders outside houses, setting torches in sconces to light the doorways and illuminate patches of the street.

We rounded a corner. My house came into sight, a little way down the winding street. A small company of armed lictors was standing outside my door. Rupa gripped my arm to alert me.

"Yes, I see them, Rupa. Lictors at the door-never a good sign." I tried to keep my tone light, but my heart was pounding.

The nearer we drew, the bigger the lictors appeared. Every one of them was half a head taller than Rupa and considerably broader. Veritable giants, they were; quite possibly Gauls, I thought, next to whom the Romans are a little people. Gallic senators, Gallic lictors-one of the chief complaints one heard against Caesar nowadays was that he had infested the city with Gauls. He had exterminated the Gauls who opposed him-Vercingetorix was presumably the last-and those who remained were loyal only to Caesar. Or were they? Everywhere I looked now, I sought threats to Caesar. Could even his own lictors be trusted?

But more to the point: what were the dictator's bodyguards doing outside my house?

As I approached the door, never breaking my stride, one of the men stepped forward to block my way.

"Remove yourself," I said, trying to keep my voice from quavering. "My name is Gordianus. I am a citizen. This is my house."

The man nodded. He looked at Rupa warily, but stepped aside.

Even as I reached toward the door, it swung open. There before me, framed by the doorway, stood Caesar himself.

I had not seen him face-to-face since our time together in Alexandria, where he had grown sleek and tan beneath the Egyptian sun. Now he looked thin and pale, almost as pale as his toga, and there was more gray than I remembered amid the scant hair on his head. For just an instant, I saw his face unguarded. The mouth was turned down, the eyes slightly vacant, the brow furrowed; he looked like a man with many worries. In the next instant he saw me, and his face was transformed by a beaming smile.

"Gordianus! Just the man I've come to see. They told me you were out and didn't know when to expect you. I waited for a while anyway. How blessedly peaceful it is in your quaint little garden. I was about to leave-but here you are!"

"Yes. Here I am."

"And who's that, behind you? Ah, yes, Rupa. I remember him from Alexandria."

"Those were memorable days, Dictator."

Caesar laughed. "No need to address me formally, Gordianus. We've been through too much together."

"Nonetheless, I am a Roman citizen, and you are my dictator. The office is a venerable one, is it not? Our ancestors created the dictatorship so that strong men could save the state in times of peril. The short list of citizens who have held the office is most distinguished."

His smile twisted at one corner. "The dictatorship was tarnished by Sulla, to be sure. Hopefully, I can burnish it to its former luster in the hearts of the Roman people. Well, now that you're here, perhaps you might invite me to rest a bit longer in your garden."

"Of course, Dictator. If your lictors will allow me to pass."

In fact, no one was really blocking my way, but at a nod from Caesar, the lictors all drew back. Caesar himself stepped aside to make way for me.

Bethesda, Diana, and Davus were standing in the vestibule. Mopsus and Androcles lurked behind them. Everyone looked stiff and uncomfortable; apparently they had just bade Caesar a formal farewell. As I passed, allowing Caesar to precede me, Diana whispered in my ear, "What in Hades does he want with you, Papa?"

I answered her with a shrug, since I had no idea. Unless, of course, he was aware of his wife's activities and was about to tell me what he thought of my investigations on Calpurnia's behalf.