Colleen McCullough - 4. Caesar's Women

Past the stalls displaying those crude busts of Pompey the Great went Gaius Julius Caesar, into the Macellum Cuppedenis, up the five flights of narrow stairs to see Marcus Crassus, who had not been in the Senate this day, rarely bothered to attend. His pride was injured, his dilemma unsolved. Financial ruin was never a consideration, but here he was with all that clout and utterly unable to deliver what was actually a trifle. His position as the brightest and biggest star in Rome's business firmament was in jeopardy, his reputation in ruins. Every day important knights came asking him why he hadn't managed to have the tax farming contracts amended, and every day he had to try to explain that a small group of men were leading the Senate of Rome like a bull with a ring through its nose. Ye gods, he was supposed to be the bull! And more than dignitas was dwindling; many of the knights now suspected he was up to something, that he was deliberately stalling renegotiation of those wretched contracts. And his hair was falling out like a cat's in spring! "Don't come near me!" he growled to Caesar. "Whyever not?" asked Caesar, grinning as he sat down on the corner of the Crassus desk. "I have the mange." "You're depressed. Well, cheer up, I have good news." "Too many people here, but I'm too tired to move." He opened his mouth and bellowed at the crowded room: "Go home, the lot of you! Go on, go home! I won't even dock your pay, so go, go!" They went, fleeing delightedly; Crassus insisted everyone put in every moment of the daylight hours, and they were lengthening into summer, still a long way off. Of course every eighth day was a holiday, so were the Saturnalia, the Compitalia and the major games, but not with pay. You didn't work, Crassus didn't pay you. "You and I," said Caesar, "are going into partnership." "It won't answer," said Crassus, shaking his head. "It will if we're a triumvirate." The big shoulders tensed, though the face remained impassive. "Not with Magnus!" "Yes, with Magnus." "I won't, and that's that." Then say goodbye to the work of years, Marcus. Unless you and I form an alliance with Pompeius Magnus, your reputation as patron of the First Class is utterly destroyed." "Rubbish! Once you're consul you'll succeed in having the Asian contracts reduced." "Today, my friend, I received my province. Bibulus and I are to survey and demarcate the traveling livestock routes of Italy." Crassus gaped. "That's worse than not getting a province! It's laughingstock material! A Julian and a Calpurnian for that matter! forced to do the work of minor officials?" "I note you said Calpurnian. So you think it will be Bibulus too. But yes, he's even willing to diminish his dignitas just to foil me. It was his idea, Marcus, and doesn't that tell you how serious the situation is? The boni will lie down to be slaughtered if that means I'm slaughtered too. Not to mention you and Magnus. We're taller than the field of poppies, it's Tarquinius Superbus all over again." "Then you're right. We form an alliance with Magnus." And it was as simple as that. No need to delve into the realm of philosophy when dealing with Crassus. Just shove facts under his nose and he'd come round. He even began to look happy about the projected triumvirate when he realized that, as both he and Pompey were privati, he wouldn't have to make any public appearances hand in hand with the man he detested most in all of Rome. With Caesar acting as go between, the decencies would be preserved and the three way partnership would work. "I'd better start canvassing for Lucceius," said Crassus as Caesar removed himself from his perch. "Don't spend too much, Marcus, that horse won't gallop. Magnus has been bribing heavily for two months, but after Afranius no one will look at his men. Magnus isn't a politician, he never makes the right moves at the right time. Labienius ought to have been where he put Flavius, and Lucceius ought to have been his first attempt to secure a tame consul." A cheerful pat for Crassus's naked pate, and Caesar was off. "It will be Bibulus and I for sure." A prediction the Centuries confirmed five days before the Ides of Quinctilis: Caesar swept into the senior consulship by carrying literally every Century; Bibulus had to wait much longer, as the contest for the junior post was a close one. The praetors were disappointing for the triumvirs, though they could be sure of the support of Saturninus's nephew after the trial of Gaius Rabirius, and none other than Quintus Fufius Calenus was making overtures, as his debts were beginning to embarrass him badly. The new College of Tribunes of the Plebs was a difficulty, for Metellus Scipio had decided to stand, which gave the boni no less than four staunch allies Metellus Scipio, Quintus Ancharius, Gnaeus Domitius Calvinus and Gaius Fannius. On the brighter side, the triumvirs definitely had Publius Vatinius and Gaius Alfius Flavus. Two good strong tribunes of the plebs would be enough.

There then occurred the long and exasperating wait for the New Year, not helped by the fact that Pompey had to lie low while Cato and Bibulus strutted, promising everyone who was prepared to listen that Caesar would get nothing done. Their opposition had become public knowledge through every Class of citizen, though few below the First Class understood exactly what was happening. Distant political thunder rumbled, was all. Unruffled, it seemed, Caesar attended the House on all meeting days as senior consul elect to give his opinion about very little; otherwise his time was devoted almost exclusively to drafting a new land bill for Pompey's veterans. In November he could see no reason why it should be a secret any longer let the rump wonder what he and Pompey were to each other, it was time to apply a small amount of pressure. So in December he sent Balbus to see Cicero, his purpose to enlist Cicero's support for the land bill. If apprising Cicero what was in the wind didn't send the news far and wide, nothing would. Uncle Mamercus died, a personal sorrow for Caesar and the cause of a vacancy in the College of Pontifices. "Which," said Caesar to Crassus after the funeral, can be of some use to us. I hear Lentulus Spinther desperately wants to be a pontifex." "And might become one if he's prepared to be a good boy?" "Precisely. He's got clout, he'll be consul sooner or later, and Nearer Spain lacks a governor. I hear he's smarting that he didn't get a province after his praetorship, so we might be able to help him into Nearer Spain on New Year's Day. Especially if he's a pontifex by then." "How will you do it, Caesar? There's a big list of hopefuls." "Rig the lots, of course. I'm surprised you asked. This is where being a triumvirate comes in very handy. Cornelia, Fabia, Velina, Clustumina, Teretina five tribes already without moving out of our own ranks. Of course Spinther will have to wait until after the land bill is passed before he can go to his province, but I don't think he'll object to that. The poor fellow is still playing second leads, the boni sniff with contempt because they're riding for a fall. It doesn't pay to overlook important men you might need. But they've overlooked Spinther, more fool they." "I saw Celer in the Forum yesterday," said Crassus, huffing contentedly, "and I thought he looked shockingly ill." That provoked a laugh from Caesar. "It's not physical, Marcus. His little Nola of a wife has opened every gate she owns as wide as she can for Catullus, the poet fellow from Verona. He, by the way, seems to be flirting with the boni. I have it on good evidence that he invented the story of Publius Servilius's vineyard for Bibulus. That makes sense, Bibulus being permanently fused to the cobbles of the city of Rome. It takes a rustic to know all about cattle and vines." "So Clodia's in love at last." "Badly enough to worry Celer!" "He'd do best to terminate Pomptinus and go to his province early. For a Military Man, Pomptinus hasn't acquitted himself very well in Further Gaul." "Unfortunately Celer loves his wife, Marcus, so he doesn't want to go to his province at all." "They deserve each other" was Crassus's verdict.