Steven Saylor - A murder on the Appian way

Their contio on the final day of Lepidus's term as interrex was attended by a great crowd. When Eco came to my house that morning and announced his intention to attend, I declined at first to accompany him. It would be insanity to go out in public at such a time, I argued, even with bodyguards. But the pull of the Forum was too strong. For four days, except for my visit to Cicero, I had kept almost entirely to my house. I was growing restless. In times of crisis or jubilation, there is something in a Roman's blood that pulls him inexorably to join with great throngs of his fellow citizens to listen to other citizens make speeches beneath the open sky, where men and gods alike can see and hear.

Eco insisted that we push our way to the front of the crowd. We wore our togas, as befitted the occasion; Eco's bodyguards were dressed in tunics and cloaks. Thus one can often tell at a glance, in a mixed crowd, who is a citizen and who is a slave attending a citizen.

Up on the platform, Plancus and Pompeius were joined by their fellow tribune Sallust. It was Sallust whom I heard in the house of Clodius, arguing that no one but Clodius could control the mob. He had warned of a bloodbath. But apparently he had reconciled himself to the rabble-rousing efforts of his fellow tribunes and had decided to join them.. These three addressed the crowd not with formal speeches but alternating back and forth, as if having a conversation or a debate among themselves and soliciting the reactions of their fellow citizens.

The exact circumstances of the incident on the Appian Way were not discussed. I was beginning to find this paucity of details maddening, but no one else in the crowd seemed to mind or even to notice. That Milo and his men had murdered Clodius in cold blood was simply taken for granted. The issue was what to do about it. The main thing, the speakers all agreed, was to hold consular elections at once. Once Hypsaeus and Scipio were in office, Milo could be dealt with accordingly.

"But what about the rumours that Milo's raising an army?" shouted someone in the crowd.

"If his goal is insurrection," said Sallust, "then it's all the more important that we elect consuls at once, in order to raise a force against him for the defence of the city."

"But what about Milo's allies here inside the city?" shouted someone else. "They say he has secret stockpiles of all sorts of weapons. They could cut our throats while we sleep. They could set our houses on fire — "

"Ha! You Clodian arsonists shouldn't talk about fire!" said another man. There were harsh words. A scuffle broke out. Though it was some distance away, Eco's bodyguards grew tense and tightened their circle around us. The speakers on the platform ignored the interruption.

"The fact is," said Sallust, "Milo is back in Rome."

This news sent a murmur through the crowd.

A man behind me, close enough for me to smell the garlic on his breath, cupped his hands around his mouth. "The shameless pig came back to Rome the very day after he murdered Clodius!" he shouted. "Milo must have been in his house that night when we went to pay a call with our torches. I should know, I took an arrow in my shoulder!" The man pulled his toga open at the throat to show off his bandages.

"Brave citizen!" cried Sallust. He raised his arm in salute, which prompted a round of cheering mixed with a few jeers. "But whatever Milo's whereabouts for the last few days, we know that he was in town as of yesterday, because yesterday Milo emerged from hiding to go and pay a visit to Pompey Magnus at his villa on the Pincian Hill."

This news set off another murmur in the crowd. In the race for consul, Pompey had given his blessing to Hypsaeus, who had served him as a military officer in the East. But Pompey and Milo had once been allies, and Pompey and Clodius had often been enemies. Could it be that the Great One had been induced to countenance Milo's crime and to throw his support behind the murderer? Pompey's involvement could shift the balance conclusively, either for Milo or against him.

Sallust smiled, reading the crowd's anxiety and uncertainty, drawing out the suspense with his silence. "You will be happy to learn," he finally said, "that Pompey Magnus, to his great credit, refused even to see the villain!"

The suspense broke with a round of cheers.

"And more than that, he sent the scoundrel a roundabout message politely asking him to refrain from calling again, so as to spare Pompey the embarrassment of refusing to see him again. Milo's perfidy is so profound that even the Great One fears it might taint him if he should brush against it."

The tribune Plancus stepped forwards. He spoke as if engaging Sallust in conversation, but his words rang out as only those of a trained orator can. "I should imagine that Milo was greatly offended by Pompey's rebuff"

"I should imagine he was," agreed Sallust. "We know that Milo is a man who offends easily. And we have seen how deadly his grudges can be."

Plancus mimed an expression of dismay. We were so close to the platform that I could see just how broadly he played his part. "What are you implying, Sallust? Do you imagine that Pompey himself might be… in danger?"

Sallust gave a world-weary shrug, exaggerated just enough so that the gesture could be read from the back of the crowd. "We've seen that the monster will stop at nothing to take over the state. Clodius has already fallen victim to his bloodlust. If Pompey now stands in his way — "

There were cries from the crowd:

"No!"

"Never!"

"Impossible!"

"Milo wouldn't dare!"

"Wouldn't he?" The tribune Pompeius, who had been holding back, stepped forwards. As a member of Pompey's clan, he claimed the crowd's full attention. "I shall tell you what I think," he said. "It was Milo who provided a body to be cremated in the Senate House. And it's Milo who'll provide another body to be buried on the Capitoline Hill!" His meaning was clear, for who but Pompey could be worthy of a sepulchre on the hill of Rome's most sacred temples?

The crowd raised their fists and began to shout, drowning out the speakers on the platform, who seemed only too pleased to fall silent and yield to the roar of the mob. Was Milo plotting to kill Pompey? The tribunes had not offered even a shred of evidence, but the mere suggestion drove the crowd to a frenzy.

The Forum was like a great pool of sound. Individual cries were like pebbles that rippled through the crowd and echoed back from its edges. All coalesced into a deafening, indistinct roar, until somewhere in the crowd someone began to chant. The chant was joined by more and more voices until it rose above the roar "Vote… now! Vote… now!" It was the same cry that had echoed for days around the house of the interrex Marcus Lepidus.

The crowd began to move. How this movement began, I never quite understood. I saw no signal from the tribunes on the stage. I heard no shout from the crowd, urging everyone to head for the house of Lepidus. Perhaps if I had been on my rooftop watching instead of in the thick of things, I could have seen and understood the dynamics of the mob — or perhaps not. One might as easily comprehend the uncanny unison of a swarm of bees in flight.

However it happened, the crowd became a mob, and the mob began to move as a single body towards the Palatine. Eco and I moved along with it for a while, unable to separate ourselves, like flotsam on a current. I was jostled and poked and pushed forwards against my will. I gritted my teeth and grunted. But the same experience that I found so unpleasant seemed to invigorate many of those around me, who grinned and made giddy whoops of excitement as if they had drunk too much wine.

Little by little we worked our way sideways through the press of the crowd until we reached the edge and were able to drop back. Even Eco seemed intoxicated by the excitement. "What's wrong, Papa?" he said, smiling and catching his breath. "Don't you want to join the march on the interrex's house?"