Colleen McCullough - 6. The October Horse - A Novel of Caesar and Cleopatra

The island was small and grassy, shaded by several lofty poplars; there had been some willows too, but a party of sappers hauled them out so that the observers on each bank could have an unimpeded view of proceedings. The meeting place for the three negotiators marked by three curule chairs beneath a poplar was far enough away from the bevy of servants and secretaries who occupied the island's far end, there to distribute refreshments or wait to be summoned to take something down in writing. Antony and Lepidus were rowed across from their bank, both clad in armor, whereas Octavian chose his purple-bordered toga and maroon senatorial shoes with consular crescent buckles rather than his special boots. The audience was vast, for both armies lined the banks of the Lavinus and watched raptly while the three figures sat, stood, paced, gesticulated, looked at each other or stared pensively at the swirling waters. The greetings were typical: Octavian was suitably deferential, Lepidus amiable, Antony curt. "Let's get down to business," Antony said, and sat. "What do you think our business is, Marcus Antonius?" asked Octavian, waiting until Lepidus sat before taking his own chair. "To help you crawl out of the hole you've dug for yourself," said Antony. "You know if it comes to battle you'll lose." "We each have seventeen legions, and mine contain quite as many veterans, I believe," Octavian said coolly, fair brows up. "However, you have the advantage of a more experienced command." "In other words, you want to crawl out of that hole." "No, I'm not thinking of myself. At my age, Antonius, I can afford to suffer an occasional humiliation without its coloring the rest of my career. No, I'm thinking of them." Octavian indicated the watching soldiers. "I asked for this conference to see if we can work out a way to avoid shedding one drop of their blood. Your men or mine, Antonius, makes no difference. They're all Roman citizens, and all entitled to live, to sire sons and daughters for Rome and Italy, which my father believed were the same entity. Why should they have to shed their blood simply in order to decide whether you or I is the leader of the pack?" A question so unanswerable that Antony shifted uncomfortably, spoke uncomfortably. "Because your Rome isn't my Rome," he said. "Rome is Rome. Neither of us owns her. Both of us are her servants, we can't be her master. Everything you do, everything I do, should go to her greater glory, enhance her power. That is equally true of Brutus and Cassius. If you, and I, and Marcus Lepidus, vie for anything, it should be for the distinction of contributing the most to Rome's greater glory. We ourselves are mortal, whether we die here on a field of battle, or later, at peace with each other. Rome is eternal. Rome owns us." A grin showed. "I'll say this for you, Octavianus, you can talk. A pity you can't general troops." "If talk is my specialty, then I chose my field of action very well," said Octavian, smiling Caesar's smile. "Truly, Antonius, I do not want bloodshed. What I want is to see all of us who followed Caesar united again under one banner. The assassins did us no favor in murdering our undisputed leader. Since his death, we've split asunder. I blame no small part of it on Cicero, who is every Caesarean's enemy, just as he was Caesar's enemy. To me, if we spill blood here, we will have betrayed Caesar. And betrayed Rome. Rome's real enemies are not here in Italian Gaul. They're in the East. The assassin Marcus Brutus holds all of Macedonia, Illyricum, Greece, Crete, and through minions Bithynia, Pontus and Asia Province. The assassin Gaius Cassius holds Cilicia, Cyprus, Cyrenaica, Syria, perhaps even Egypt by now." "I agree with you about Brutus and Cassius, said Antony, who was visibly relaxing. "Continue, Octavianus." "What I am asking for, Marcus Antonius, Marcus Lepidus, is an alliance. A reunification of all Caesar's loyal adherents. If we can sort out our differences and achieve that, then we can deal with the real enemies, Brutus and Cassius, from a position of power equal to theirs. Otherwise, Brutus and Cassius will win, and Rome will pass away. For Brutus and Cassius will hand the provinces back to the publicani and squeeze the socii so tightly that they will prefer barbarian or Parthian rule to Roman rule." Lepidus listened while Octavian expatiated upon his theme and Antony interpolated an occasional comment. Somehow it all sounded so reasonable and logical when Octavian explained it, though quite why that was, Lepidus didn't know, since nothing the young man said was novel or extraordinary. "It isn't that I'm afraid to fight, rather that I plain don't want to fight," Octavian reiterated. "We should conserve every bit of our combined strength for the real adversaries." "Hit them so hard that they don't have a chance to do what happened after Pharsalus," said Antony, getting into stride. "What exhausted Rome was the prolongation of the struggle against the Republicans. Pharnaces, then Africa, then Spain." And so it started, though it took the rest of that day to reach wholehearted agreement that all the factions of Caesar's adherents should reunite, for there were more men to please than the three who conferred. Both Antony and Octavian knew full well that if Antony had grown tired of being dominated by Caesar, then he had already passed the mark whereat he might agree to share leadership with a twenty-year-old newcomer whose only assets were his relationship to Caesar and the power stemming out of it. The best that might be accomplished was a temporary cessation in the contest for ultimate supremacy. What Octavian could do, and did on the island in the Lavinus River, was to give Antony the impression that Caesar's heir would yield supremacy until Antony's age negated it. If he thinks that, said Octavian to himself, it will sustain both of us until Brutus and Cassius are crushed. After that, we shall see. One thing at a time. "Of course my legions won't consent to a settlement that looks as if you've won," said Antony when discussions resumed on the second day. "Nor mine a settlement that looks as if I've lost," Octavian riposted, looking rueful. "And my legions, and Plancus's, and Pollio's," said Lepidus, "will want us to have a share of the leadership." "Plancus and Pollio will have to be content with consulships in the near future," said Antony harshly. "The stage is populated enough by the three sitting here." He had spent most of the night thinking, and he was far from stupid; his chief intellectual disabilities lay in his impulsiveness, his hedonism and his lack of interest in the art of politics. "How about," he asked, "if we split the leadership of Rome more or less equally between the three of us?" "That sounds interesting," said Octavian. "Do go on." "Um well... None of us should be consul, yet all of us should be something better than consul. You know, like three to share the dictatorship." "You abolished the dictatorship," Octavian said gently. "True, and I don't mean to imply that I regret that!" Antony snapped, bristling. "What I'm trying to say is that Rome can't be run by a succession of mere consuls until the Liberators are finished, yet a genuine dictator is too offensive to everyone who believes in democracy. If three of us share the control by having partial dictatorial powers, then we exert a measure of control over each other as well as running Rome the way she needs to be run for the time being." "A syndicate," said Octavian. "Three men. Triumviri rei publicae constituendae. Three men forming a syndicate to set the affairs of the Republic in order. Yes, it has a good ring to it. It will soothe the Senate and appeal to the People enormously. All of Rome knows that we embarked on military action. Imagine how splendid it will look when the three of us return to Rome the best of friends, our legions safe and unharmed. We'll show everybody that Roman men can sort out their differences without resorting to the sword that we care more about the Senate and the People than we do about ourselves." They sat back in their chairs and stared at each other with huge content. Yes, it was splendid! A new era. "It also," said Antony, "shows the People that we are their true government. There won't be any grumbling about civil war for the sake of civil war when we go east to fight Brutus and Cassius. That was a good idea to try and condemn the Liberators for treason, Octavianus. We can say that we're not fighting other Romans, we're fighting men who abrogated their citizenship." "We do more than that, Antonius. We keep agents circulating throughout Italy to reinforce indignation about the murder of their beloved Caesar. And when prosperity declines, we can blame Brutus and Cassius, who have appropriated Rome's revenues." "Prosperity declines?" asked Lepidus in dismay. "It is already declining," Octavian said flatly. "You're a governor, Lepidus. You must surely have noticed that the crops in your provinces haven't come in this year." "I haven't been in my provinces since early summer," Lepidus excused himself. "I've noticed that it's suddenly very expensive to feed my legions," said Antony. "Drought?" "Everywhere, including the East. So Brutus and Cassius must be suffering too." "What you're really saying is that we're going to run out of money," snarled Antony, glaring at Octavian. "Well, you pinched Caesar's war chest, so you can fund our campaign in the East!" "I did not steal the war chest, Antonius. I spent my entire patrimony on bonuses for my legions when I arrived in Italy, and I've had to take money from the Treasury to part-pay the bonuses I still owe my men. I'm in debt to them, and will be for a long time. I've no idea who took the war chest, but don't blame me." "Then it has to be Oppius." "You can't be sure. Some Samnite might as easily have done it. The solution doesn't lie in the past, Antonius. It's vital that we keep Rome and Italy fed and entertained, two very pricey undertakings, and we also have to keep a great number of legions in the field. How many do you think we'll need?" "Forty. Twenty to go with us, twenty more for garrison duty in the West, in Africa, and for dropping in our wake as we march. Plus ten or fifteen thousand cavalry." "Including noncombatants and horse, that's over a quarter of a million men." The big grey eyes looked glassy. "Think of the quantities of grain, chickpea, lentil, bacon, oil a million and a quarter modii of wheat a month at fifteen sesterces the modius is seven hundred and fifty talents a month for wheat alone. The other staples will double it, perhaps more in this drought." "What a fantastic praefectus fabrum you'd make, Octavianus!" said Antony, eyes dancing. "Joke if you must, but what I'm saying, Antonius, is that we can't do it. Not and feed Rome, feed Italy as well." "Oh, I know a way," Antony said too casually. "I'm all ears," said Octavian. "That you are, Octavianus!" "Are you done with the jokes?" "Yes, because the solution's no joke. We proscribe." The last word fell into a silence broken only by the faint rushing of the river, the rattle of golden poplar leaves waiting for the winter winds to blow them down, the far-off murmur of thousands of troops, the whinnying of horses. "We proscribe," Octavian echoed. Lepidus looked ready to faint pale, shaking. "Antonius, we daren't!" he cried. The reddish-brown eyes stared him down fiercely. "Oh, come, Lepidus, don't be a bigger fool than your mother and father made you! How else can we fund a state and an army through a drought? How else could we fund them even if there wasn't a drought?" Octavian sat looking thoughtful. "My father," he said, "was famous for his clemency, but it was his clemency killed him. Most of the assassins were pardoned men. Had he killed them, we would have no need to worry about Brutus and Cassius, Rome would have all the eastern revenues, and we'd be free to sail into the Euxine to buy grain from Cimmeria if we could get it nowhere else. I agree with you, Marcus Antonius. We proscribe, exactly as Sulla did. A one-talent reward for information from a free man or a freedman, a half-talent reward plus his freedom for a slave. But we don't make the mistake of documenting our rewards. Why give some aspiring tribune of the plebs of the future the chance to force us to punish our informants? Sulla's proscriptions netted the Treasury sixteen thousand talents. That's our target." "You're a perpetual surprise, my dear Octavianus. I thought I'd have a long job talking you into it," said Antony. "I'm first and foremost a sensible man." Octavian smiled. "Proscription is the only answer. It also enables us to rid ourselves of enemies, real or potential. All those with Republican sentiments or sympathy for the assassins." "I can't agree!" wailed Lepidus. "My brother Paullus is a die-hard Republican!" "Then we proscribe your brother Paullus," said Antony. "I have a few relatives of mine who'll have to be proscribed, some in conjunction with cousin Octavianus here. Uncle Lucius Caesar, for example. He's a very rich man, and he's been no help to me." "Or to me," said Octavian, nodding. He frowned. "However, I suggest that we don't render ourselves odious by executing our relatives, Antonius. Neither Paullus nor Lucius is a threat to our lives. We'll just confiscate their property and money. I think we'll both have to sacrifice some third cousins." "Done!" Antony made a purring noise. "But Oppius dies. I know he pinched Caesar's war chest." "We don't touch any of the bankers or top plutocrats," said Octavian, tones uncompromising. "What? But that's where the big money is!" Antony objected. "Precisely, Antonius. Think about it, please. Proscription is a short-term measure to fill the Treasury, it can't go on forever. The last thing we want is a Rome deprived of her money geniuses. We're going to need them forever. If you believe that a Greek freedman like Sulla's Chrysogonus is a replacement for an Oppius or an Atticus, you're touched in the head. Look at that freedman of Pompeius Magnus's, Demetrius rolling in wealth, but not Atticus's bootlace when it comes to turning money over. So we proscribe Demetrius, but we don't proscribe Atticus. Or Sextus Perquitienus, or the Balbi, or Oppius, or Rabirius Postumus. I grant you that Atticus and Perquitienus play both ends against the middle, but the bankers I've mentioned have been Caesareans ever since Caesar became a force in politics. No matter how tempting the size of their fortunes, we do not touch our own. Especially if they have the ability to keep money turning over. We can afford to proscribe Flavius Hemicillus, and perhaps Fabius both are Brutus's banking minions. But those Rome will need in the future must be sacrosanct." "He's right, Antonius, said Lepidus feebly. Antony had listened; now he thought, lips moving in and out, auburn brows meeting. Finally, "I see what you mean." His head hunched into his shoulders, he gave a mock shudder. "Besides, if I touched Atticus, Fulvia would kill me. He's been very good to her since the decree outlawing me. But Cicero goes and I mean head from neck, understood?" "Completely," Octavian said. "We concentrate on the rich, but only some of the fabulously rich. If enough men are proscribed, the amount of cash will add up quickly. Of course when it comes to property, we won't garner anything like the actual worth of the property we auction. Caesar's auctions have proven that as much as Sulla's did. But we'll be able to pick up some good estates for ourselves and our friends dirt cheap. Lepidus has to be compensated for the loss of his villas and estates, so he ought not to have to pay a sestertius for anything until his losses have been remedied." The appalled Lepidus began to look less appalled; this was an aspect of proscription that hadn't occurred to him. "Land for our veterans," said Antony, who loathed agrarian activity. "I suggest we confiscate the public lands of towns and municipia we can classify as inimical to Caesar or that made overtures of friendliness to Brutus and Cassius when they were issuing their edicts. Venusia, dear old Capua yet again, Beneventum, a few other Samnite nests. Cremona hasn't pulled its weight in Italian Gaul, and I know how to prevent Bruttium from offering aid to Sextus Pompeius. We'll put some soldier colonies around Vibo and Rhegium." "Excellent!" Octavian exclaimed. "I recommend too that we don't discharge all the legions after the war against Brutus and Cassius is over. We should retain a certain number of them as a standing army, have the men sign up for, say, fifteen years. This business of having to recruit every time we need troops may be the Roman way and a part of the mos maiorum, but it's a costly nuisance. Every time a man is discharged, he gets a piece of land. Some men have been in and out so many times over the last twenty years that they've accumulated a dozen plots of land which they rent out to tenant farmers or graziers. A standing army can garrison the provinces, be there to be called into service when and where it's needed without the perpetual expenses of recruiting and equipping fresh legions, or finding land on discharge." But that dissertation was a little much for Mark Antony, who shrugged, bored; his attention span was not the equal of the painstaking, minutiae-fixated Octavian's. "Yes, yes, but time is getting on, and I want to finish this business today, not next month." He assumed a crafty expression. "Of course we'll have to have some evidence of each other's good faith. Lepidus and I have affianced two of our children. You're single, Octavianus. How about a marriage bond with me?" "I'm engaged to Servilia Vatia," Octavian said woodenly. "Oh, Vatia won't care if you break it off! My Fulvia's eldest girl, Claudia, is eighteen. How about her? Terrific set of ancestors for your children! Julian, Gracchan, Claudian, Fulvian. You can't do better than a girl of Fulvia's and Publius Clodius's, now can you?" "No, I can't," said Octavian without hesitation. "Consider me betrothed to Claudia, provided Vatia consents." "Not betrothed, married," Antony said firmly. "Lepidus can conduct the ceremony as soon as we return to Rome." "If you wish." "You'll have to step down from the consulship," said Antony, riding high. "Yes, I rather imagined I'd have to do that. Whom do you suggest as suffect consuls for the rump of the year?" "Gaius Carrinas for senior, Publius Ventidius for junior." "Your men." Ignoring this, Antony swept on. "Lepidus for a second term next year, with Plancus as his junior." "Yes, we'll definitely have to have one of the Triumvirs as senior consul next year. And the year after?" "Vatia as senior, my brother Lucius as junior." "I am sorry about Gaius Antonius." Eyes filling with tears, Antony swallowed convulsively. "I will make Brutus pay for killing my brother!" he said savagely. Privately Octavian thought that Brutus had done efficiency and success a great service in ridding Rome of Gaius Antonius, bungler supreme, but he looked grieved and sympathetic, then changed the subject. "Have you thought how best to legislate our triumviral syndicate?" he asked. "Through the Plebs, it's become custom. Supraconsular powers imperium maius, even inside Rome for five years. Together with the right to nominate the consuls. Inside Italy we should all three have equal powers and govern equally, but outside Italy I think we should divide the provinces up. I'll take Italian Gaul and Further Gaul. Lepidus can have Narbonese Gaul and both the Spains, because I'm going to use Pollio as my legate in my provinces, let him do the actual governing." "Which leaves me," said Octavian, looking particularly sweet and humble, "the Africas, Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica. The er grain supply. Not a happy group of provinces, from what I hear. The governor of Africa Vetus is having a little private war with the governor of Africa Nova, and Sextus Pompeius has been using all those ships the Senate gave him to raid our grain fleets since well before Pedius's court condemned him." "Not pleased with your lot, Octavianus?" Antony asked. "Put it this way, Antonius. I won't complain about my lot provided that I have full and equal co-command with you when we go east to deal with Brutus and Cassius." "No, I won't agree to that." "You don't have any choice in the matter, Antonius. My own legions will insist on it, and you can't go east without them." Antony leaped out of his chair and strode to the water's edge, Lepidus following in alarm. "Come, Antonius," Lepidus whispered to him, "you can't have it all your own way. He's made big concessions. And he's right about his legions, they won't follow you." A long pause ensued, Antony scowling at the river, Lepidus with one hand on Antony's arm. Then Antony swung about, returned. "All right, you can have full co-command, Octavianus." "Good. Then we have a pact," Octavian said cordially, and held out his hand. "Let's shake on it to show the men that we've reached accord and there'll be no battle." The three walked to the very middle of the island, there to shake hands with each other. Cheers erupted from the throat of every watcher; the Triumvirate was a reality. Only one other difference of opinion arose, on the next day: namely, the order in which the Triumvirs would enter Rome. "Together," said Lepidus. "No, on three succeeding days," Antony contradicted. "I go first, Octavianus goes second, you go third, Lepidus." "I go first," Octavian said firmly. "No, I do," said Antony. "I go first, Marcus Antonius, because I am the senior consul and no laws have as yet been passed that give you or Marcus Lepidus any rights whatsoever. You're still public enemies. Even if you weren't, the moment you cross the pomerium into Rome, you give up your imperium and become mere privati. It is inarguable. I must go first, to preside over the removal of your outlaw status." Very put out he might be, but Mark Antony had no choice other than to agree. Octavian must enter Rome first.