John Roberts - The Sacrilege

"You see? I told you she could not be involved."

"And I rejoice with you that the lady Fausta is innocent of wrongdoing. But there is still the little matter of treason."

"Oh, that. Decius, the Senate can look out for itself. But this might be a good opportunity to get rid of Clodius."

"Believe me, I will not stand in your way. I need to accomplish two things: I have to get Julia back to Caesar's house, and I need to present my findings to the Senate."

"The Senate exists as a body only when a meeting is summoned," he pointed out. "The rest of the time, there are about five hundred Senators scattered all over Rome and the empire. There won't be another session called until well after the triumph."

"That's true," I said. "But tomorrow evening, after the great procession, there will be a banquet of the entire Senate in the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. I will get up before them and present my case. I intend to see Pompey stripped of his triumphal regalia and disgraced right in front of the statue of Jupiter!"

He shook his head in wonderment. "Decius, if you can accomplish all that with a lot of talk and an unsigned letter from an obscure boy, you'll be the greatest Roman who ever lived. But I'll back you, whatever you want to do."

"That's all I ask," I said.

"Where do we start?" he asked.

"We take Julia home."

Rarely has a patrician lady been escorted home in quite the way Julia was that night. She and I strolled hand in hand down the middle of some of Rome's most disreputable thoroughfares. The moonlight was bright and sounds of revelry came from all around as Rome celebrated a triumphal holiday. There were other sounds as well. We were closely surrounded by a tight-packed crowd of Milo's thugs, and from its periphery came strangled yells, the sound of blows, the clink of metal striking metal and the unmistakable wood-cracking sound of Milo's bronzelike palms slapping somebody. Sometimes the cobbles we walked over were a little slippery, but we made it to the Forum and the house of the Pontifex Maximus.

I told the janitor to fetch the master and he went off.

The person who appeared was not Caius Julius, though. It was his mother. She glared with astonishment, first at Julia, then at the men with her. Milo and I were among Rome's more presentable young men, but the same could not be said of his feral-looking followers.

"My son, the distinguished Pontifex Maximus, is at the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, preparing the triumphal rites. I am his mother."

I bowed. "All Rome knows the august patrician matron Aurelia."

"I do not know you, but you have the look of gens Caecilia. Since you are wellborn and a Senator, I will allow you the opportunity to explain how you happen to be with my granddaughter, who has been missing from this house most of the day."

"The lady has assisted me with certain services on behalf of the Republic which have unavoidably detained her. As you can see, I have been careful to provide the lady with a proper escort." The thugs grinned and nodded, a sight to frighten demons. "Please inform Caius Julius that these matters involve not only his august self but the glorious Pompey and the wealthy Crassus. I am sure he will inform you that he fully approves of his niece's actions today."

She nodded fractionally. "Very well. I shall take no action against Julia until I have spoken with my sons, both of them. If her honor has been compromised in any fashion, I shall take measures to have the Censors expel you from the Senate for moral turpitude." She nodded toward Julia and, with a sideways glance at me, Julia disappeared into the house.

"I think we have no further business, Senator," she said, and stalked back into the house.

"Come on, Decius," Milo said. "Getting back won't be so easy. There'll be reinforcements now. Come to my house. It's closer and far stronger."

As we walked back across the Forum, somebody behind us said: "Does Caesar's niece have to be above suspicion, too?" and everybody laughed uproariously until we were attacked by a crowd armed with every manner of weapon, some of them carrying torches. An Etruscan, all eyes and teeth and pointed beard, came for me with a knife in one hand and a hammer in the other. I had me great satisfaction of cutting him down with my sword. The knife-and-hammer business was only good for killing unprepared men. I picked up the fallen hammer and dropped it inside my tunic.

"That one's for Capito," I said to Milo. "I want two more for Nero and Purpurea."

"They were no friends of yours," he said through his grin.

"They were Romans, and foreigners shouldn't be allowed to kill Romans. I take it very ill of Pompey that he should use his barbarians thus."

We made it to Milo's house with only minor casualties. With the massive door bolted behind us, Milo called for food and bandages and sent sentries up to the roof. With the excitement over, I began to ache in a hundred places. Apprehensively, I opened my tunic and examined my cut. So excellent was Asklepiodes's sewing that I had not sprung a single stitch, and only a bit of blood oozed from the wound's edges.

"Decius," Milo said, "eat something, have a little wine and get some sleep. I'm not sure how you propose to survive until tomorrow night even with my help. I can ask a great deal of my men, but even I can't demand that free men miss a triumph just to preserve the hide of Rome's maddest Senator."

This was odd phrasing, but in later conversation with Milo's men I learned that I was, indeed, gaining this reputation for eccentricity. They regarded me as a sort of mascot, rather as soldiers in foreign parts will adopt some exotic beast and invest it with spurious, luck-bestowing qualities. I thought it rather presumptuous that such lowborn scum should regard a noble Senator thus, but it is always a good idea to stay on fine terms with men like those.

I did as Milo suggested. I ate well, had just a little wine, then went to one of his guest rooms and slept gloriously. I would wager that I slept better that night than Pompey, Caesar, Crassus or Clodius.

It was a beautiful morning. I rose just before sunrise and went up to the roof of Milo's house to watch the first light strike the gilded rooftops of the Capitol. Since it was likely to be my last such sight, I took it in with uncommon relish. All my frustrated agitation of the past few days was gone. I knew exactly what I had to do, and I was at peace.

This is not to say that I was not excited. It would be an eventful day, whatever its outcome. I spoke with the sentries and they said that Clodius's men had hung around for several hours, but then had gone away. They also said that there had been a good many unfamiliar faces among the enemy. Pompey's reinforcements, I thought.

At intervals along the roof, between the fire buckets full of water, stood bins of fist-sized rocks. The city had no laws against possession of rocks, but few things are more effective when launched from a roof. The guards boasted that they had left some sore heads among the besiegers.

Milo came onto the roof, active and alert as always. He never seemed to sleep.

"What's the plan?" he asked. "The triumphal procession will be forming up soon."

"As a Senator," I said, "I will have to take part, so first we must go to the Circus Flaminius. Just get me there safely and I will do the rest."

He was incredulous. "You really propose to march in Pompey's triumph?"

"As a Senator, I consider it my duty," I assured him.

He leaned back and roared with laughter. "You may be a fool, Decius, but you have real style. To the Circus, then."

Hermes had delivered my formal toga to Milo's house so that I would be properly dressed. Awkward though the garment was, it was so voluminous that it gave adequate concealment for my weapons.