Robert Harris - Lustrum

'Some citizens are saying you've deliberately exaggerated the threat,' he warned his friend.

'And why would I do that? Do they think it gives me pleasure to turn Rome into a gaol in which I'm the most closely guarded prisoner?'

'No, but they think you're obsessed with Catilina and have lost all sense of proportion; that your fears for your own personal safety are making their lives intolerable.'

'Is that all?'

'They believe you're acting like a dictator.'

'Do they really?'

'They also say you're a coward.'

'Well then, damn the people!' exclaimed Cicero, and for the first time I saw him treat Atticus coldly, refusing to respond to his further attempts at conversation with anything more than monosyllables. Eventually his friend wearied of this frosty atmosphere, rolled his eyes at me and went away.

Late on the evening of the sixth day of November, long after the lictors had gone off for the night, Cicero was reclining in the dining room with Terentia and Quintus. He had been reading dispatches from magistrates all over Italy, and I was just handing him some letters for his signature when Sargon started barking furiously. The noise made us all jump; everyone's nerves were shredded by then. Cicero's three guards all got to their feet. We heard the front door open and the sound of an urgent male voice, and suddenly into the room strode Cicero's former pupil, Caelius Rufus. It was his first appearance on the premises for months, all the more startling because he had gone over to Catilina at the start of the year. Quintus jumped up, ready for a fight.

'Rufus,' said Cicero calmly, 'I thought you were a stranger to us these days.'

'I'll never be a stranger to you.'

He took a step forward, but Quintus put his hand on his chest and stopped him. 'Arms up!' he commanded, and nodded to the guards. Rufus hastily raised both hands, while Titus Sextus searched him. 'I expect he's come to spy on us,' said Quintus, who had never cared much for Rufus, and often asked me why I thought his brother tolerated the presence of such a tearaway.

'I've not come to spy. I've come to warn: Catilina's back.'

Cicero banged his fist on the table. 'I knew it! Put your hands down, Rufus. When did he return?'

'This evening.'

'And where is he now?'

'At the home of Marcus Laeca, on the street of the scythemakers.'

'Who's with him?'

'Sura, Cethegus, Bestia – the whole gang. I've only just got away.'

'And?'

'They're going to kill you at sunrise.'

Terentia put her hand to her mouth.

'How?' demanded Quintus.

'Two men, Vargunteius and Cornelius, will call on you at dawn to pledge their loyalty and claim they've deserted Catilina. They'll be armed. There'll be others at their backs to overpower your guards. You mustn't admit either of them.'

'We won't,' said Quintus.

'But I'd have admitted them,' said Cicero. 'A senator and a knight – of course I would. I'd have offered them the hand of friendship.' He seemed amazed at how close to disaster he had come despite all his precautions.

'How do we know the lad isn't lying?' said Quintus. 'It could be a trick to divert us from the real threat.'

'He has a point, Rufus,' said Cicero. 'Your loyalty is as fixed as a weathercock.'

'It's the truth.'

'Yet you support their cause?'

'Their cause, yes, not their methods – not any longer.'

'What methods are these?'

'They've agreed to carve up Italy into military regions. The moment you're dead, Catilina will go to the rebel army in Etruria. Parts of Rome will be set alight. There'll be a massacre of senators on the Palatine, and then the city gates will be opened to Manlius and his mob.'

'And Caesar? Does he know all this?'

'He wasn't there tonight, but I sense he knows what's planned. Catilina talks to him quite often.'

This was the first time Cicero had received direct intelligence of Catilina's intentions. His expression was appalled. He bent his head and rubbed his temples with his knuckles. 'What to do?' he muttered.

'We need to get you out of this house tonight,' said Quintus, 'and hide you somewhere they can't get at you.'

'You could go to Atticus,' I suggested.

Cicero shook his head. 'That's the first place they'd look. The only safe refuge is out of Rome. Terentia and Marcus at least could go to Tusculum.'

'I'm not going anywhere,' said Terentia, 'and neither should you. The Roman people will respect many kinds of leader, but they'll never respect a coward. This is your home and your father's home before you – stay in it and dare them to do their worst. I know I should if I were a man.'

She glared at Cicero and I feared we were about to be treated to another of their stupendous rows, which had so often split that modest house like claps of thunder. But then Cicero nodded. 'You're right. Tiro, send a message to Atticus telling him we need reinforcements urgently. We'll barricade the doors.'

'And we should get some barrels of water on the roof,' added Quintus, 'in case they try to burn us out.'

'I'll stay and help,' said Rufus.

'No, my young friend,' said Cicero. 'You've done your part, and I'm grateful for it. But you should leave the city at once. Go back to your father's house in Interamna until all this is settled, one way or the other.' Rufus started to protest, but Cicero cut him off. 'If Catilina fails to kill me tomorrow, he may suspect you of betraying him; if he succeeds, you'll be sucked into the whirlpool. Either way, you're better off a long way from Rome.'

Rufus tried to argue, but to no avail. After he had gone, Cicero said, 'He's probably on our side, but who can tell? In the end, the only safe place to put a Trojan horse is outside your walls.'

I dispatched one of the slaves to Atticus with a plea for help. Then we barred the door and dragged a heavy chest and a couch across it. The rear entrance was also locked and bolted; as a second line of defence we wedged an upended table to block the passageway. Together with Sositheus and Laurea I carried up bucket after bucket of water to the roof, along with carpets and blankets to smother any fires. Within this makeshift citadel we had, to protect the consul, a garrison of three bodyguards, Quintus, myself, Sargon and his handler, a gatekeeper, and a few male slaves armed with knives and sticks. And I must not forget Terentia, who carried a heavy iron candle-holder at all times, and who would probably have been more effective than any of us. The maids cowered in the nursery with Marcus, who had a toy sword.

Cicero put on a display of great calmness. He sat at his desk, thinking and making notes and writing out letters in his own hand. From time to time he asked me whether there was any reply yet from Atticus. He wanted to know the moment the extra men appeared, so I armed myself with a kitchen knife, went up on to the roof again, wrapped myself in a blanket, and kept watch on the street. It was dark and silent; nothing moved. As far as I could tell, the whole of Rome was slumbering. I thought back to the night that Cicero won the consulship, and how I had joined the family up here to dine by starlight in celebration. He had realised from the start that his position was weak and that power would be fraught with dangers; he could hardly have imagined such a scene as this.

Several hours passed. I heard dogs bark occasionally but no human voices, apart from the watchman down in the valley calling the divisions of the night. The cocks crowed as usual then fell silent, and the air actually seemed to grow darker and very cold. Laurea called up that the consul wanted to see me. I went downstairs and found him seated in his curule chair in the atrium, with a drawn sword resting across his knees.

'You're sure you definitely requested those extra men from Atticus?'