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

Brutus was so delighted to see him that Cassius found himself fervently hugged and kissed, ushered tenderly into the palace and given a comfortable suite of rooms. "I insist that you remain here in Tarsus," said Brutus over a good dinner, "and wait for Caesar." "He'll proscribe me," said Cassius, sunk in gloom. "No, no, no! Cassius, you have my word that his policy is clemency! You're in similar case to me! You haven't gone to war against him after he's pardoned you, because he hasn't seen you to pardon you a first time! Truly, you'll find yourself forgiven! After which, Caesar will advance your career just as if none of this had ever happened." "Except," muttered Cassius, "that I'll owe my future career to his generosity his say-so his condescension. What right has Caesar got to pardon me, when all's said and done? He's not a king, and I'm not his subject. We're both equal under the law." Brutus decided to be frank. "Caesar has the right of the victor in a civil war. Come, Cassius, this isn't Rome's first civil war we've had at least eight of them since Gaius Gracchus, and those on the winning side have never suffered. Those on the losing side certainly have. Until now. Now, in Caesar, we see a victor who is actually willing to let bygones be bygones. A first, Cassius, a first! What disgrace is there in accepting a pardon? If the word irks you, then call it by some other name letting bygones be bygones, for example. He won't make you kneel to him or give you the impression that he considers you an insect! He was terribly kind to me, I didn't feel at all as if he deemed me in the wrong. What I felt was his genuine pleasure in being able to do such a little thing for me. That's how he looks at it, Cassius, honestly! As if siding with Pompeius were a little thing, and every man's right if he so saw his duty. Caesar has beautiful manners, and no no no need to aggrandize himself by making others look or feel insignificant." "If you say so," said Cassius, head lowered. "Well, though I was too much a constitutional man to dream of siding with Caesar," said Brutus, having no idea whatsoever of constitutionality, "the truth is that Pompeius Magnus was far more the barbarian. I saw what went on in Pompeius's camp, I saw him let Labienus behave behave oh, I can't even speak of it! If it had been Caesar in Italian Gaul when my late father was there with Lepidus, Caesar would never have murdered him out of hand, but Pompeius did. Whatever else you may or may not think about Caesar, he is a Roman to the core." "Well, so am I!" Cassius snapped. "And I am not?" asked Brutus. "You're sure?" "Absolutely, unshakably sure." They passed then to news from home, but the truth was that neither of them had much of that to exchange; just gossip and hearsay. Cicero was reputed to have returned to Italy, Gnaeus Pompey to be making for Sicily, but no letters had come from Servilia, or Porcia, or Philippus, or anyone else in Rome. Eventually Cassius calmed down sufficiently to allow Brutus to talk about matters in Tarsus. "You can be of real help here, Cassius. I'm under orders to recruit and train more legions, but though I can recruit fairly capably, I'm hopeless at training. You've brought Caesar a fleet and transports, which he'll be grateful to have, but you can enhance your standing in his eyes by helping me train. After all, these troops are not for a civil war, they're for the war against Pharnaces. Calvinus has retreated to Pergamum, but Pharnaces is too busy laying waste to Pontus to be bothered following. So the more soldiers we can produce, the better. The enemy is foreign."

That had been January. By the time Mithridates of Pergamum passed through Tarsus late in February on his way to Caesar in Alexandria, Brutus and Cassius were able to donate him one full legion of reasonably well-trained troops. Neither of them had heard about Caesar's war in Alexandria, though word had come that Pompey had been foully murdered by King Ptolemy's palace cabal. Not from Caesar in Egypt, but in a letter from Servilia, who told them that Caesar had sent Pompey's ashes to Cornelia Metella. So conversant was Servilia with the deed that she even gave the names of the palace cabal Potheinus, Theodotus and Achillas. The two continued their work transforming civilian Cilicians into auxiliaries for Rome's use, waiting patiently in Tarsus for Caesar's return. Return he must, to deal with Pharnaces. Nothing was going to happen until the snows melted from the Anatolian passes, but when high spring arrived, so would Caesar. Early in April came a ripple, a shiver. "Marcus Brutus," said the captain of the palace guard, "we have detained a fellow at your door. Destitute, in rags. But he insists that he has important information for you from Egypt." Brutus frowned, his melancholy eyes reflecting the doubts and indecisions which always plagued him. "Does he have a name?" "He said, Theodotus." The slight figure stiffened, sat up straight. "Theodotus?" "That's what he said." "Bring him in and stay, Amphion." Amphion brought a man in his sixties, indeed festooned in rags, but the rags were still faintly purple. His lined face was petulant, his expression fawning. Brutus found himself physically revolted by his un-Roman effeminacy, the simpering smile that showed blackened, rotting teeth. "Theodotus?" Brutus asked. "Yes, Marcus Brutus." "The same Theodotus who was tutor to King Ptolemy of Egypt?" "Yes, Marcus Brutus." "What brings you here, and in such parlous condition?" "The King is defeated and dead, Marcus Brutus." The lips drew back from those awful teeth in a hiss. "Caesar personally drowned him in the river after the battle." "Caesar drowned him." "Yes, personally." "Why would Caesar do that if he had defeated the King?" "To eliminate him from the Egyptian throne. He wants his whore, Cleopatra, to reign supreme." "Why come to me with your news, Theodotus?" The rheumy eyes widened in surprise. "Because you have no love for Caesar, Marcus Brutus everyone knows that. I offer you an instrument to help destroy Caesar." "Did you actually see Caesar drown the King?" "With my own eyes." "Then why are you still alive?" "I escaped." "A weak creature like you escaped Caesar?" "I was hiding in the papyrus." "But you saw Caesar personally drown the King." "Yes, from my hiding place." "Was the drowning a public event?" "No, Marcus Brutus. They were alone." "Do you swear that you are indeed Theodotus the tutor?" "I swear it on my dead king's body." Brutus closed his eyes, sighed, opened them, and turned his head to look at the captain of the guard. "Amphion, take this man to the public square outside the agora and crucify him. And don't break his legs." Theodotus gasped, retched. "Marcus Brutus, I am a free man, not a slave! I came to you in good faith!" "You are getting the death of a slave or pirate, Theodotus, because you deserve it. Fool! If you must lie, choose your lies more carefully and choose the man to whom you tell them more carefully." Brutus turned his back. "Take him away and carry out the sentence immediately, Amphion."

* * *

"There's some pathetic old fellow hanging tied to a cross in the main square," said Cassius when he came in for dinner. "The guards on duty said you'd forbidden them to break his legs." "Yes," said Brutus placidly, putting down a paper. "That's a bit much, isn't it? They take days to die unless their legs are broken. I didn't know you had so much steel. Is an ancient slave a worthy target, Brutus?" "He's not a slave," said Brutus, and told Cassius the story. Cassius wasn't pleased. "Jupiter, what's the matter with you? You should have sent him to Rome in a hurry," he said, breathing hard. "The man was an eyewitness to murder!" "Gerrae," said Brutus, mending a reed pen. "You may detest Caesar all you like, Cassius, but many years of knowing Caesar endow me with sufficient detachment to dismiss Theodotus's tale as a tissue of lies. It isn't beyond Caesar to do murder, but in the case of Egypt's king, all he had to do was hand him over to his sister for execution. The Ptolemies love to murder each other, and this one had been at war with his sister. Caesar, to drown the boy in a river? It's not his style. What baffles me is why Theodotus thought that in mine, he'd find a pair of ears willing to listen. Or why he thought that any Roman would believe one of the three men responsible for Pompeius's hideous death. So too was the King responsible. I am not a vengeful man, Cassius, but I can tell you that it afforded me great satisfaction to crucify Theodotus one gasp at a time for days." "Take him down, Brutus." "No! Don't argue with me, Cassius, and don't bully me! I am governor in Cilicia, not you, and I say Theodotus dies." But when Cassius wrote next to Servilia, he recounted the fate of Theodotus in Tarsus very differently. Caesar had drowned a fourteen-year-old boy in the river to please Queen Cleopatra. Cassius had no fear that Brutus would write his own version, for Brutus and his mother didn't get along, so Brutus never wrote to her at all. If he wrote to anyone, it would be Cicero. Two timorous mice, Brutus and Cicero.