Colleen McCullough - 4. Caesar's Women

When he went home Caesar sought out his mother. Her minute office was one room Pompeia never invaded; if nothing else about her mother in law frightened her, Aurelia's affinity for the lightning totting up of figures certainly did. Besides, it had been a clever idea to give his study over for Pompeia's use (Caesar had his other apartment in which to work). Tenure of the study and the master sleeping cubicle beyond it kept Pompeia out of the other parts of Aurelia's domain. Sounds of feminine laughter and chatter emanated from the study, but no one appeared from that direction to hinder Caesar's progress. "Who's with her?" he asked, seating himself in the chair on the far side of Aurelia's desk. The room was indeed so small that a stouter man than Caesar could not have squeezed into the space this chair occupied, but the hand of Aurelia was very evident in the economy and logic with which she had organized herself: shelves for scrolls and papers where she wouldn't hit her head on them as she rose from her own chair, tiered wooden trays on those parts of her desk not needed for her actual work, and leather book buckets relegated to the room's remote corners. "Who's with her?" he repeated when she didn't answer. Down went her pen. His mother looked up reluctantly, flexed her right hand, sighed. "A very silly lot," she said. That I do not need to be told. Silliness attracts more silliness. But who?" "Both the Clodias. And Fulvia." "Oh! Racy as well as vacant. Is Pompeia intriguing with men, Mater?" "Definitely not. I don't permit her to entertain men here, and when she goes out I send Polyxena with her. Polyxena is my own woman, quite impossible to bribe or suborn. Of course Pompeia takes her own idiotic girl with her too, but both of them combined are no match for Polyxena, I assure you." Caesar looked, his mother thought, very tired. His year as president of the Murder Court had been an extremely busy one, and acquitted with all the thoroughness and energy for which he was becoming famous. Other court presidents might dally and take protracted vacations, but not Caesar. Naturally she knew he was in debt and for how much though time had taught her that money was a subject sure to create tension between them. So while she burned to quiz him about money matters, she bit her tongue and managed not to say a word. It was true that he did not allow himself to become depressed over a debt now mounting rapidly because he could not afford to pay back the principal; that some inexplicable part of him genuinely believed the money would be found; yet she also knew that money could lie like a grey shadow at the back of the most sanguine and optimistic of minds. As it lay like a grey shadow at the back of his mind, she was certain. And he was still heavily involved with Servilia. That was a relationship nothing seemed able to destroy. Besides which, Julia, menstruating regularly now that her thirteenth birthday was a month away, was displaying less and less enthusiasm for Brutus. Oh, nothing could provoke the girl into rudeness or even covert discourtesy, but instead of becoming more enamored of Brutus now that her womanhood was upon her, she was unmistakably cooling, the child's affection and pity replaced by boredom? Yes, boredom. The one emotion no marriage could survive. All these were problems which gnawed at Aurelia, while others merely niggled. For instance, this apartment had become far too small for a man of Caesar's status. His clients could no longer gather all at once, and the address was a bad one for a man who would be senior consul within five years. Of that last fact Aurelia harbored no doubts whatsoever. Between the name, the ancestry, the manner, the looks, the charm, the ease and the intellectual ability, whatever election Caesar contested would see him returned at the top of the poll. He had enemies galore, but none capable of destroying his power base among the First and the Second Classes, vital for success in the Centuries. Not to mention that among the Classes too low to count in the Centuries he stood high above all his peers. Caesar moved among the Head Count as readily as among the consulars. However, it was not possible to broach the subject of a suitable house without money's raising its ugly face. So would she, or would she not? Ought she, or ought she not? Aurelia drew a deep breath, folded her hands one over the other on the table in front of her. Caesar, next year you will be standing for praetor," she said, "and I foresee one very severe difficulty." "My address," he said instantly. Her smile was wry. "One thing I can never complain about your astuteness." Is this the prelude to another argument about money?" "No, it is not. Or perhaps it would be better to say, I hope not. Over the years I have managed to save a fair amount, and I could certainly borrow against this insula comfortably. Between the two, I could give you enough to purchase a good house on the Palatine or the Carinae." His mouth went thin. That is most generous of you, Mater, but I will not accept money from you any more than I will from my friends. Understood?" Amazing to think she was in her sixty second year. Not one single wrinkle marred the skin of face or neck, perhaps because she had plumped out a trifle; where age showed at all was in the creases which ran down either side of her nostrils to meet the corners of her mouth. "I thought you'd say that," she said, composure intact. Then she remarked, apropos it seemed of nothing, "I hear that Metellus Pius Pontifex Maximus is ailing." That startled him. "Who told you so?" Clodia, for one. Her husband, Celer, says the whole family is desperately worried. And Aemilia Lepida, for another. Metellus Scipio is very cast down by the state of his father's health. He hasn't been well since his wife died." "It's certainly true that the old boy hasn't been attending any meetings of late," said Caesar. "Nor will he in the future. When I said he is ailing, I really meant he is dying." "And?" asked Caesar, for once baffled. "When he dies, the College of Pontifices will have to co opt another Pontifex Maximus." The large and lustrous eyes which were Aurelia's best feature gleamed and narrowed. "If you were to be appointed Pontifex Maximus, Caesar, it would solve several of your most pressing problems. First and foremost, it would demonstrate to your creditors that you are going to be consul beyond any doubt. That would mean your creditors would be more willing to carry your debts beyond your praetorship if necessary. I mean, if you draw Sardinia or Africa as your province in the praetor's lots, you won't be able to recoup your losses as a praetor governor. Should that happen, I would think your creditors will grow very restless indeed." The ghost of a smile kindled his eyes, but he kept his face straight. "Admirably summed up, Mater," he said. She went on as if he hadn't spoken. "Secondly, Pontifex Maximus would endow you with a splendid residence at the expense of the State, and as it is a lifetime position, the Domus Publica would be yours for life. It is within the Forum itself, very large and eminently suitable. So," his mother ended, her voice as level and unexcited as ever, "I have begun to canvass on your behalf among the wives of your fellow priests." Caesar sighed. "It's an admirable plan, Mater, but one which you cannot bring to fruition any more than I can. Between Catulus and Vatia Isauricus not to mention at least half the others in the College! I don't stand a chance. For one thing, the post normally goes to someone who has already been consul. For another, all the most conservative elements in the Senate adorn this College. They do not fancy me." "Nevertheless I shall go to work," said Aurelia. At which precise moment Caesar realized how it could be done. He threw his head back and roared with laughter. "Yes, Mater, by all means go to work!" he said, wiping away tears of mirth. "I know the answer oh, what a furor it's bound to create!" "And the answer is?" "I came to see you about Titus Labienus, who is as I'm sure you know Pompeius Magnus's tame tribune of the plebs this year. Just to air my thoughts aloud. You're so clever that I find you a most useful wall for bouncing ideas off," he said. One thin black brow flew up, the corners of her mouth quivered. "Why, thank you! Am I a better wall to bounce off than Servilia?'' Again he cried with laughter. It was rare for Aurelia to succumb to innuendo, but when she did she was as witty as Cicero. "Seriously," he said when he could, "I know how you feel about that liaison, but acquit me of stupidity, please. Servilia is politically acute. She is also in love with me. However, she is not of my family, nor is she entirely to be trusted. When I use her as a wall, I make very sure I'm in complete Control of the balls." "You ease my mind enormously," said Aurelia blandly. "What is this brilliant inspiration, then?" When Sulla nullified the lex Domitia de sacerdotiis, he went one step further than custom and tradition dictated by also removing the office of Pontifex Maximus from tribal election by the People. Until Sulla, the Pontifex Maximus had always been elected, he was never co opted by his fellow priests. I'll have Labienus legislate to return the choice of priests and augurs to the People in their tribes. Including the office of Pontifex Maximus. The People will love the idea." "They love anything which ablates a law of Sulla's." "Precisely. Then all I have to do," said Caesar, rising, "is get myself elected Pontifex Maximus." "Have Titus Labienus enact the law now, Caesar. Don't put it off! No one can be sure how much longer Metellus Pius has to live. He's lonely without his Licinia." Caesar took his mother's hand and raised it to his lips. "Mater, I thank you. The matter will be expedited, because it's a law can benefit Pompeius Magnus. He's dying to be a priest or an augur, but he knows he'll never be co opted. Whereas at an election he'll bolt in."