Steven Saylor - Catilina's riddle

'I know that you have, Claudia, but I'm not so sure about your cousins.'

'Why? Have they been harassing you somehow?'

'Not exactly. I haven't seen either Gnaeus or Manius since our day in court, but each of them sent a messenger to tell my foreman to be sure to keep my slaves off their property — that is, unless I cared to have a slave returned to me with a limb missing.'

Claudia frowned and shook her head. 'Regrettable. How about Publius? He's the oldest and has always had a level head.'

'Actually, Publius and I may be going to court soon.'

'No! But why?'

'There seems to be some disagreement about the stream that marks the boundary of our two farms. The deed I inherited from Lucius clearly indicates that I have the right to use the stream and anything in the stream as I wish, but Publius recently sent me a letter in which he claims that such rights belong to him exclusively.'

'Oh, dear!'

'The lawyers will sort it out eventually. Meanwhile, yesterday some of my slaves were washing some clothes downstream from some of Publius's slaves, who deliberately stirred up the water so that it was full of mud, which prompted the women, on my side to hurl insults at the women on the opposite bank, until more than insults were hurled. The two foremen finally arrived to stop the altercation, but not until one of my women had been struck on the head by a flying rock’ 'Was she seriously hurt?’

'No, but there was plenty of blood, and the wound will leave a scar. If I had a litigious nature I'd demand that Publius buy me a replacement,'

Claudia slapped her hands on her knees. 'Intolerable! I had no idea that such provocations were being imposed on you, Gordianus. Really, I will have a word with my dear relatives and see if I can't intervene on behalf of good neighbourly relations, not to mention common sense and law and order!'

She was so dramatically outraged that I laughed. 'Your intervention on my behalf would be most appreciated, Claudia.'

'It's the least I can do. Really, constant litigation and neighbourly ill will may be the rule in the city, but here in the country such unpleasantness has no place. Here, all should be tranquillity, fertility, and domesticity, as Lucius himself used to say.'

'Yes, I remember him using those very words once, when he was making ready to leave the city for the farm.' I glanced down at the stream and then above the treetops to the roof of Publius's house, felt a vague uneasiness, then looked away and resolved to think of something else. ‘You saw Lucius often when he visited the farm?'

'Oh, I never missed seeing him whenever he came. Such a sweet man — but you know that. We would come and sit on this very ridgetop, on these very stumps, and gaze down on the farm, and make plans for the future. He was going to build a little mill house down by the stream. Did you know that?'

'No.'

'Yes, with a great waterwheel, and one set of gears for grinding meal and another set for grinding stones dug out of Gnaeus's mine. It all sounded very ambitious and complex, but Lucius thought he could design the workings himself A pity he died as he did, so suddenly.'

'Suddenly is best, I think. I've known many men who were less fortunate.'

'Yes, I suppose it would be worse to die slowly, or alone…' 'Instead, Lucius died very swiftly, with hundreds of people around — crossing the Forum, where he was known and liked by just about everyone. Laughing and joking 'with his entourage — so I was later told — when he suddenly gripped his chest and collapsed. He died almost at once; he suffered only a little. The funeral was quite an affair — so many loving friends, from all walks of life.' I smiled, remembering. 'He had put his will into the keeping of the Vestal Virgins, as many rich men do. I had no idea, until I was called to see it for myself, that he had left anything to me at all. And there it was, the deed to his Etruscan farm, together with a worn copy of Cato's On Farming. I suppose he must have heard me daydreaming from time to time about retiring to the countryside, escaping all the madness in Rome. Of course, those were only idle dreams — what man of my means could ever afford to buy a decent farm, with all the slaves necessary to run it?'

'And a year later here you are, with that very dream realized.'

'Yes, thanks to Lucius.'

'And yet I find you brooding up here on the hilltop, like Jupiter looking down on burning Troy.'

'Blame the behaviour of certain of my neighbours,' I said ruefully.

'Granted, but there is something else that troubles you.'

I shrugged. 'This morning Aratus and I almost came to blows. He thinks I'm an impossible, pompous-ass from the city who knows nothing about farming and only wants to get in his way. I suppose I must look rather ridiculous to him, fussing about details I only half understand and quoting to him from Cato.'

'And how does he look to you?'

'I know that Lucius thought highly of him, but it seems to me that the farm is not run nearly as efficiently as it could be. There's too much waste.'

'Oh, how I hate waste!' said Claudia. 'I never allow my slaves to throw anything away if I can possibly make use of it.'

'Well, between Aratus and myself it's been one battle after another ever since I arrived last autumn. Perhaps I am a pompous ass from the city who knows nothing about farming, but I do know waste when I see it, and I can read Cato. And beneath that, there's something about Aratus I don't trust Perhaps I'm simply not used to owning so many slaves and having to manage them all, especially not a slave as strong-willed and sure of himself as Aratus. I gather that Lucius generally gave him the run of the farm, so that my arrival was a great inconvenience to him. He looks on me as a thorn in his side. I look on him the way you might look on a horse you don't trust; you must have the beast to get where you're going, but secretly you suspect he'll throw you. I find myself sniping at him constantly. He reacts by acting surly and impertinent.'

Claudia nodded sympathetically. 'Ah, a good foreman is always hard to find But the joys of farm life far outweigh the travails, or so I've always found. I think more than Aratus is bothering you, Gordianus.'

I looked at her sidelong. Her probing was beginning to touch on tender spots. 'I suppose I should confess that I miss my elder son.'

'Ah, young Eco. I met him when he helped you move in last autumn. A fine-looking young man. Why is he not here with you?'

'He's taken over my house on the Esquiline Hill in the city and seems quite content there. Well, you can't expect a young man of twenty-seven to choose the tranquillity of country life over the distractions of the city. Besides, he's newly married; the girl no doubt prefers to run her own household. Can you imagine a young bride competing with Bethesda for command of a household? I shudder at the thought. There would be no tranquillity in that! Also, his work is there. He does the sort of things that I used to do — dangerous, and I worry. Rome has become a dreadful place'

'One must let them go their own way eventually. Or so I've heard. And you still have children at home.'

'Yes, they were at each other's throats when I left the house. Meto is old enough to know better. He'll turn sixteen next month and put on his toga of manhood. He has no business fighting with Diana. She's only six. But she does delight in tormenting him…'

'Diana? Is that what you call her for short?'

'Well, Gordiana is too big a name for such a small girl, don't you agree? Besides, the name of the goddess suits her; she loves wild things. She's happy here in the country. I have to be careful that she doesn't go wandering too far on her own.'

'Ah, how big the farm must seem to a six-year-old. This ridge must be a mountain, the wall a great fortification, the stream a mighty river. And Meto, does he like the country?'