Colleen McCullough - 4. Caesar's Women

Caesar laid the long letter down and put his chin in his hand, having much to think about. Though he found it naive, he enjoyed Pompey's bald prose and casual asides; they brought Magnus into the room in a way that the polished essays Varro wrote for Pompey's senatorial dispatches never did. When he had first met Pompey on that memorable day Pompey had turned up to claim Mucia Tertia at Aunt Julia's, Caesar had detested him. And in some ways he probably never would warmly like the man. However, the years and exposure had somewhat softened his attitude, which now, he decided, contained more like than dislike. Oh, one had to deplore the conceit and the rustic in him, and his patent disregard for due process of the law. Nonetheless he was gifted and so eminently capable. He hadn't put a foot wrong very often, and the older he became, the more unerring his step. Crassus loathed him of course, which was a difficulty. That left him, Caesar, to steer a course between the two. Titus Labienus. A cruel and barbarous man. Tall, muscular, curly headed, hook nosed, snapping black eyes. Absolutely at home on a horse. Quite what his remote ancestry was had flummoxed more Romans than merely Caesar; even Pompey had been heard to say that he thought Mormolyce had snatched the mother's newborn babe out of its cradle and substituted one of her own to be brought up as Titus Labienus's heir. Interesting that Labienus had informed Pompey how well he had gotten on with Caesar in the old days. And it was true enough. Two born riders, they had shared many a gallop through the countryside around Tarsus, and talked endlessly about cavalry tactics in battle. Yet Caesar couldn't warm to him, despite the man's undeniable brilliance. Labienus was someone to be used but never trusted. Caesar quite understood why Pompey was concerned enough about Labienus's fate as a tribune of the plebs to enlist Caesar in a support role; the new College was a particularly weird mixture of independent individuals who would probably fly off in ten tangents and spend more time vetoing each other than anything else. Though in one respect Pompey had erred; if Caesar had been planning his assortment of tame tribunes of the plebs, then Labienus would have been saved for the year Pompey started to press for land for his veterans. What Caesar knew of Metellus Nepos indicated that he was too Caecilian; he wouldn't have the necessary steel. For that kind of work, a fiery Picentine without ancestors and nowhere to go save up yielded the best results. Mucia Tertia. Widow of Young Marius, wife of Pompey the Great. Mother of Pompey's children, boy, girl, boy. Why had he never got round to her? Perhaps because he still felt about her the way he had about Bibulus's wife, Domitia: the prospect of cuckolding Pompey was so alluring he kept postponing the actual deed. Domitia (the cousin of Cato's brother in law, Ahenobarbus) was now an accomplished fact, though Bibulus hadn't heard about it yet. He would! What fun! Only did Caesar really want to annoy Pompey in a way he understood Pompey particularly would loathe? He might need Pompey, just as Pompey might need him. What a pity. Of all the women on his list, Caesar fancied Mucia Tertia most. And that she fancied him he had known for years. Now ... was it worth it? Probably not. Probably not. Conscious of a twinge of regret, Caesar mentally erased Mucia Tertia's name from his list. Which turned out to be just as well. With the year drawing to its close, Labienus returned from his estates in Picenum and moved into the very modest house he had recently bought on the Palatium, which was the less settled and more unfashionable side of the Palatine. And the very next day hied himself off to see Caesar just sufficiently too late for anyone left in Aurelia's apartment to assume he was Caesar's client. "But let's not talk here, Titus Labienus," said Caesar, and drew him back toward the door. "I have rooms down the street." "This is very nice," said Labienus, ensconced in a comfortable chair and with weak watered wine at his elbow. "Considerably quieter," said Caesar, sitting in another chair but not with the desk between them; he did not wish to give this man the impression that business was the order of the day. "I am interested to know," he said, sipping water, "why Pompeius didn't conserve you for the year after next." "Because he didn't expect to be in the East for so long," said Labienus. "Until he decided he couldn't abandon Syria with the Jewish question unsettled, he really thought he'd be home by next spring. Didn't he tell you that in his letter?" So Labienus knew all about the letter. Caesar grinned. "You know him at least as well as I do, Labienus. He did ask me to give you any assistance I could, and he also told me about the Jewish difficulties. What he neglected to mention was that he had planned to be home earlier than he said he was going to be." The black eyes flashed, but not with laughter; Labienus had little sense of humor. "Well, that's it, that's the reason. So instead of a brilliant tribunate of the plebs, I'm going to have no more to do than legislate to allow Magnus to wear full triumphal regalia at the games." "With or without minim all over his face?" That did provoke a short laugh. You know Magnus, Caesar! He wouldn't wear minim even during his triumph itself." Caesar was beginning to understand the situation a little better. "Are you Magnus's client?" he asked. "Oh, yes. What man from Picenum isn't?" "Yet you didn't go east with him." "He wouldn't even use Afranius and Petreius when he cleaned up the pirates, though he did manage to slip them in after some of the big names when he went to war against the kings. And Lollius Palicanus, Aulus Gabinius. Mind you, I didn't have a senatorial census, which is why I couldn't stand as quaestor. A poor man's only way into the Senate is to become tribune of the plebs and then hope he makes enough money before the next lot of censors to qualify to stay in the Senate," said Labienus harshly. "I always thought Magnus was very open handed. Hasn't he offered to assist you?" "He saves his largesse for those in a position to do great things for him. You might say that under his original plans, I was on a promise." "And it isn't a very big promise now that triumphal regalia is the most important thing on his tribunician schedule." "Exactly." Caesar sighed, stretched his legs out. "I take it," he said, "that you would like to leave a name behind you after your year in the College is over." "I would." "It's a long time since we were both junior military tribunes under Vatia Isauricus, and I'm sorry the years since haven't been kind to you. Unfortunately my own finances don't permit of a trifling loan, and I do understand that I can't function as your patron. However, Titus Labienus, in four years I will be consul, which means that in five years I will be going to a province. I do not intend to be a tame governor in a tame province. Wherever I go, there will be plenty of military work to do, and I will need some excellent people to work as my legates. In particular, I will need one legate who will have propraetorian status whom I can trust to campaign as well without me as with me. What I remember about you is your military sense. So I'll make a pact with you here and now. Number one, that I'll find something for you to do during your tribunate of the plebs that will make your year a memorable one. And number two, that when I go as proconsul to my province, I'll make sure you come with me as my chief legate with propraetorian status," said Caesar. Labienus drew a breath. "What I remember about you, Caesar, is your military sense. How odd! Mucia said you were worth watching. She spoke of you, I thought, with more respect than she ever does of Magnus." "Mucia?" The black gaze was very level. "That's right." "Well, well! How many people know?" asked Caesar. "None, I hope." "Doesn't he lock her up in his stronghold while he's away? That's what he used to do." "She's not a child anymore if she ever was," said Titus Labienus, eyes flashing again. "She's like me, she's had a hard life. You learn from a hard life. We find ways." Next time you see her, tell her that the secret is safe with me," said Caesar, smiling. "If Magnus finds out, you'll get no help from that quarter. So are you interested in my proposition?" "I most certainly am." After Labienus departed Caesar continued to sit without moving. Mucia Tertia had a lover, and she hadn't needed to venture outside Picenum to find him. What an extraordinary choice! He couldn't think of three men more different from each other than Young Marius, Pompeius Magnus and Titus Labienus. That was a searching lady. Did Labienus please her more than the other two, or was he simply a diversion brought about by loneliness and lack of a wide field to choose from? Nothing surer than that Pompey would find out. The lovers might delude themselves no one knew, but if the affair had been going on in Picenum, discovery was inevitable. Pompey's letter did not indicate anyone had tattled yet, but it was only a matter of time. And then Titus Labienus stood to lose everything Pompey might have given him, though clearly his hopes of Pompey's favor had already waned. Maybe his intriguing with Mucia Tertia had arisen out of disillusionment with Pompey? Very possible. All of which scarcely mattered; what occupied Caesar's mind was how to make Labienus's year as a tribune of the plebs a memorable one. Difficult if not impossible in this present climate of political torpor and uninspiring curule magistrates. About the only thing capable of kindling a fire beneath the rear ends of these slugs was a fearsomely radical land bill suggesting that every last iugerum of Rome's ager publicus be given away to the poor, and that wouldn't please Pompey at all Pompey needed Rome's public lands as a gift for his troops. When the new tribunes of the plebs entered office on the tenth day of December, the diversity among its members became glaringly obvious. Caecilius Rufus actually had the temerity to propose that the disgraced ex consuls elect Publius Sulla and Publius Autronius be allowed to stand for the consulship in the future; that all nine of his colleagues vetoed Caecilius's bill came as no surprise. No surprise either was the response to Labienus's bill giving Pompey the right to wear full triumphal regalia at all public games; it swept into law. The surprise came from Publius Servilius Rullus when he said that every last iugerum of Rome's ager publicus both in Italy and abroad be given away to the poor. Shades of the Gracchi! Rullus lit the fire turning senatorial slugs into ravening wolves. "If Rullus succeeds, when Magnus comes home there'll be no State land left for his veterans," said Labienus to Caesar. "Ah, but Rullus neglected to mention that fact," replied Caesar, unruffled. "As he chose to present his bill in the House before taking it to the Comitia, he really ought to have made mention of Magnus's soldiers." "He didn't have to mention them. Everyone knows." "True. But if there's one thing every man of substance detests, it's land bills. The ager publicus is sacred. Too many senatorial families of enormous influence rent it and make money out of it. Bad enough to propose giving some of it away to a victorious general's troops, but to demand that all of it be given away to Head Count vermin? Anathema! If Rullus had only come out and said directly that what Rome no longer owns cannot be awarded to Magnus's troops, he might have gained support from some very peculiar quarters. As it is, the bill will die." "You'll oppose it?" asked Labienus. "No, no, certainly not! I shall support it vociferously," said Caesar, smiling. "If I support it, quite a lot of the fence sitters will jump down to oppose it, if for no other reason than that they don't like what I like. Cicero is an excellent example. What's his new name for men like Rullus? Popularis for the People rather than for the Senate. That rather appeals to me. I shall endeavor to be labeled a Popularis." "You'll annoy Magnus if you speak up for it." "Not once he reads the covering letter I'll send him together with a copy of my speech. Magnus knows a ewe from a ram." Labienus scowled. "All of this is going to take a lot of time, Caesar, yet none of it involves me. Where am I going?" "You've passed your bill to award Magnus triumphal regalia at the games, so now you'll sit on your hands and whistle until the fuss over Rullus abates. It will! Remember that it's best to be the last man left on his feet." "You have an idea." "No," said Caesar. "Oh, come!" Caesar smiled. "Rest easy, Labienus. Something will occur to me. It always does."