Steven Saylor - Catilina's riddle

'Lucius and I sat together and sipped wine many times in this very garden,' I said.

'Charming, charming,' said Claudia absently. 'Of course I shouldn't be here at all. I'm leaving Rome for the farm this afternoon, and given the congestion on the roads—'

'Leaving Rome? I thought you planned to spend the whole month of Quinctilis here in the city, refurbishing Lucius's town house.'

'Ah, that's just it. I find myself more confused than ever over what I want to do with the property. I'm at such an impasse that I think the only thing to do is go straight back to the farm and collect my wits before trying to come to a decision. Yes, I know, I’ll miss the excitement of the election tomorrow, but thank Jupiter for that! I'm a woman and the family doesn't need me for voting, anyway. Besides, I've had more than enough of the city already. The idea of spending a whole month here — well, you can see how deranged it makes me. I feel like a complete impostor all made up like this; I'd feel much more comfortable in an old sack, and I get so rattled I can't stop talking…'

She suddenly laughed and took a deep breath. 'Well, you're seeing proof of that! And quite frankly, I've had more than enough of my cousin Manius and his shrill wife. They're the ones who have the property north of you but spend most of their time, here in Rome. They insist on dropping by to see me every day and inviting me to their house every night, and I've had enough. Their cook is a disaster, to begin with, and their politics are too conservative even for me. You can imagine all the ranting and raving in such a household, what with the elections going on.'

Claudia lowered her voice and brought her face close to mine. 'But my stay with Manius has borne at least some good fruit, dear Gordianus, and it has to do with you. In fact, that's why I stayed in Rome until now, and today came here first instead of heading straight home to Etruria, Gordianus, promise that you won't be angry, but I took the liberty of bringing cousin Manius with me today. Presumptuous of me, I know, but the opportunity seemed just right and I said to myself) "Do it!" So I did And I think it will all be for the best. There he is — Manius! Yes, cousin, come and meet our host.'

She was calling to someone over my shoulder. When I turned around, whom should I see but the greybeard who had been pilfering stuffed grape leaves and honeyed dates! No wonder my imperfect recollection of him had made me uneasy; he had been present in the court when Cicero had defended my inheritance from Lucius Claudius, though he was so nondescript that his face had made little impression on me. I remembered him now, and I also remembered the comments about me that Congrio's assistant had overheard him make at Claudia's family gathering: 'Stupid nobody with no ancestors, who should be put in a cage and carted back to Rome!' What was such a man doing in our house on Meto's toga day? Claudia was mad to have brought him with her. Had I been a superstitious sort like Rufus, I would have found his presence an ill omen indeed.

Claudia seemed to read my thoughts. As Manius approached, she gripped my elbow and spoke in my ear. 'Now, Gordianus, it serves no one's interests to have bad blood between our families. Manius resented your good fortune and has spoken ill of you in the past, as have all my cousins, but he and I have had many a conversation on the subject during my stay in Rome and I think I've convinced him to make peace. That's why he's here. You will be hospitable, won't you?'

I was given little choice, for the next moment the man was standing before me, with a sour expression on his face and his eyes averted 'So you're Gordianus,' he said, finally looking up. 'My cousin Claudia seems to drink we should be friends .' He made the word drip with sarcasm.

'Now, Manius,' cautioned Claudia, smiling apprehensively.

I took a deep breath. ‘ Friend is an exalted word, Manius Claudius, not to be bestowed lightly. I was a friend of your late cousin Lucius, and of that I'm very proud. By his will, you and I are now neighbours, if not friends; yet it seems to me that neighbours can at least strive for harmony and the common good. And since we are neighbours—'

'Only through a legal accident and a lapse in my late cousin Lucius's good judgment, not to say good taste,' said Manius sourly.

I bit my tongue for several heartbeats. 'Claudia, I thought you said—'

'Yes, I did, Gordianus, and I don't understand,' said Claudia through gritted teeth. 'Manius, before we left the house this morning I thought it was agreed—'

'All that I agreed to, Claudia, was that I would come to this house, behave in a civil manner, and see for myself whether or not I found the family of Gordianus to be respectable, charming and, to use your words, "entirely the sort of people one would desire for neighbours". Well, I have come, Claudia. I have behaved with the same decorum as if I were in my own home. And I have failed to be charmed. Indeed, quite the opposite; my very worst suspicions of these people have been confirmed.'

'Oh, dear,' said Claudia quiedy, putting her fingers to her lips.

'I have been conversing with some of the other guests,' Manius went on. "There are far too many people here of the radical, populist, rabble-rousing sort. But then, there are too many people of that sort everywhere in Rome, for my taste. I won't deny that there are a handful of respectable people here, even some fellow patricians, though what they should be doing in such a house and at such a gathering escapes me. The standards of those with whom one does and does not mix have fallen considerably since I was young. Collapsed altogether, I should say.'

'Manius, stop!' gasped Claudia.

But Manius did not stop. 'As I was saying, I have conversed with others here, and discovered just what sort of family inhabits this house and now resides on Lucius's farm. Last year I took no particular interest in investigating the nature of our opposition when Lucius's estate was being settled. I didn't care what sort of person this Gordianus was, only that he be stopped from absconding with a share of the family's inheritance. I did know that he was a plebeian with no ancestors to speak of and engaged in some sort of shady enterprise or other, but I had no idea what sort of family he had spawned. A most irregular family indeed! Of his own parentage, no one seems to know a thing, which says a great deal in itself. His wife is not Roman at all, but half Egyptian and half Jew, and was once upon a time his slave and concubine! Their elder son, the one who now lives in this house, was born Roman, apparently, but not to Gordianus and his slave woman; this Eco — such a preposterous and uncouth name! — was an abandoned beggar boy adopted off the streets. As for the lad whose birthday and corning of age is being celebrated today, it appears he was born a slave down in Baiae, probably of Greek origin. A slave! And now look at him, standing over there in his toga. In the days of our grandparents, the great days of the Republic, such a desecration would have been utterly unthinkable. No wonder the boy can't seem to make the toga sit correctly on his shoulders!'

I listened to this tirade at first speechless, then with burning ears, then with my fists tightly clenched to keep them from flying through the air. At some point Claudia, her gaze nervously flitting from Manius to me, timidly laid her hand on my elbow. Her gentle restraint was unnecessary, for I had no intention of resorting to violence in my own home and spoiling the harmony of Meto's celebration. Instead I kept my hands at my sides and let the fury boil inside me while Manius continued.

'Last and least there is a daughter, I understand, born free and apparently of both parents. A Roman girl, legally, and no doubt she will someday marry into a Roman house — bringing the Egyptian and Jewish blood of her slave-born mother with her. Is it any wonder the Republic is collapsing into chaos at such a swift rate? Who stands up for me Roman family and the values it once aspired to? Even a fine Claudian like our cousin Lucius was apparently taken in — to use your word, Claudia, "charmed" — by all this barnyard decadence, but then, Lucius was always eccentric. I suppose that's your excuse as well, Claudia — eccentricity. If you find such an association congenial, then you're welcome to it, but please keep it to yourself. I came here today as an act of goodwill, and as a favour to you, Claudia, but I see now that I was gravely mistaken. I allowed soft words from a woman to weaken my resolve and taint my judgment. My time here has been completely wasted.'