Colleen McCullough - 3. Fortune's Favorites

But one glance at his reception room caused Caesar to rue his decision to go home; it appeared to be full of women! A count of heads reduced full to six his mother, his wife, his sister Ju Ju, his Aunt Julia, Pompey's wife, and another woman closer inspection placed as his cousin Julia called Julia Antonia because she was married to Marcus Antonius, the pirate eradicator. Everyone's attention was focused on her, not surprising: she was perched on the edge of a chair with her legs stretched out rigidly before her, and she was bawling. Before Caesar could move any further, someone gave him a tremendous buffet in the small of the back, and he whipped around to see a big, unmistakably Antonian child standing there grinning. Not for long! Caesar's hand went out to grasp the boy painfully by his nose, dragged him forward. Howls quite as loud as those his mother was producing erupted from his gaping mouth, but he wasn't about to curl into a helpless ball; he lashed out with one big foot at Caesar's shins, doubled his hands into fists and swung with both of them. At the same time two other, smaller boys dived on Caesar too, pummeling his sides and chest, though the immense folds of toga prevented this triple assault from inflicting any real damage. Then too quickly for anyone to see how it was done, all three boys were rendered hors de combat. The two smaller ones Caesar dealt with by banging their heads together with an audible crack and throwing them heavily against the wall; the biggest boy got a wallop on the side of the face that made his eyes water, and was marched to join his brothers in a jerking progress punctuated by resounding kicks on his backside. The bawling mother had ceased her plaints when all this had begun, and now leaped from her chair to descend upon the tormentor of her darling precious sons. Sit down, woman!'' roared Caesar in a huge voice. She tottered back to her chair and collapsed, bawling. He turned back to where the three boys half lay, half sat against the wall, blubbering as lustily as their mother. "If any one of you moves, he'll wish he'd never been born. This is my house, not the Pincian menagerie, and while you're guests in it you'll behave like civilized Romans, not Tingitanian apes. Is that quite clear?" Holding the crumpled disorder of dirty toga around him, he walked through the midst of the women to the door of his study. "I am going to rectify the damage," he said in the deceptively quiet tones his mother and wife recognized as temper reined in by an iron hold, "and when I return, I expect to see a beautiful peace descended. Shut that wretched woman up if you have to gag her, and give her sons to Burgundus. Tell Burgundus he has my full permission to strangle them if necessary." Caesar was not gone long, but when he returned it was to find the boys vanished and the six women sitting bolt upright in utter silence. Six pairs of enormous eyes followed him as he went to sit between his mother and his wife. "Well, Mater, what's the trouble?" he asked pleasantly. "Marcus Antonius is dead," Aurelia explained, "by his own hand, in Crete. You know that he was defeated by the pirates twice on the water and once on the land, and lost all his ships and men. But you may not know that the pirate strategoi Panares and Lasthenes literally forced him to sign a treaty between Rome and the Cretan people. The treaty has just arrived in Rome, accompanied by poor Marcus Antonius's ashes. Though the Senate hasn't had time to meet about it, they are already saying around the city that Marcus Antonius has disgraced his name forever people are even beginning to refer to him as Marcus Antonius Creticus! But they don't mean Crete, they mean Man of Chalk." Caesar sighed, his face betraying exasperation rather than sorrow. "He wasn't the right man for that job," he said, not willing to spare the feelings of the widow, a vastly silly woman. "I saw it when I was his tribune in Gytheum. However, I confess I didn't see precisely what the end would be. But there were plenty of signs." He looked at Julia Antonia. "I'm sorry for you, lady, but I fail to see what I can do for you." Julia Antonia came to see if you would organize Marcus Antonius's funeral rites," said Aurelia. "But she has a brother. Why can't Lucius Caesar do it?" asked Caesar blankly. "Lucius Caesar is in the east with the army of Marcus Cotta, and your cousin Sextus Caesar refuses to have anything to do with it," said Aunt Julia. "In the absence of Gaius Antonius Hybrida, we are the closest family Julia Antonia has in Rome." "In that case I will organize the obsequies. It would be wise, however, to make it a very quiet funeral." Julia Antonia rose to go, shedding handkerchiefs, brooches, pins, combs in what seemed an endless cascade; she seemed now to hold no umbrage against Caesar for his summary treatment of her sons or for his dispassionate appraisal of her late husband's ability. Evidently she liked being roared at and told to behave, reflected Caesar as he escorted her toward the door. No doubt the late Marcus Antonius had obliged her! A pity he hadn't also disciplined his children, as the mother was incapable of it. Her boys were fetched from Burgundus's quarters, where they had undergone a salutary experience; the sons of Cardixa and Burgundus had dwarfed them completely. Like their mother they seemed not to have taken permanent offense. All three eyed Caesar warily. "There's no need to be afraid of me unless you've stepped over the mark of common decent behavior," said Caesar cheerfully, his eyes twinkling. If I catch you doing that watch out!" "You're very tall, but you don't look all that strong to me," said the oldest boy, who was the handsomest of the three, though his eyes were too close together for Caesar's taste. However, they stared at him straightly enough, and their expression did not lack courage or intelligence. "One day you'll encounter a tiny little fellow who slaps you flat on your back before you can move a finger," said Caesar. "Now go home and look after your mother. And do your homework instead of prowling through the Subura getting up to mischief and stealing from people who've done you no harm. Homework will benefit you more in the long run." Mark Antony blinked. "How do you know about that?" "I know everything," said Caesar, shutting the door on them. He returned to the rest of the women and sat down again. "The invasion of the Germans," he said, smiling. "What a frightful tribe of little boys! Does no one supervise them?" "No one," said Aurelia. She heaved a sigh of pure pleasure. "Oh, I did enjoy watching you dispose of them! My hand had been itching to administer a good spanking ever since they arrived." Caesar's eyes were resting on Mucia Tertia, who looked, he thought, marvelously attractive; marriage to Pompey obviously agreed with her. Mentally he added her name to his list of future conquests Pompey had more than asked for it! But not yet. Let the abominable Kid Butcher first climb even higher. Caesar had no doubt he could succeed with Mucia Tertia; he had caught her staring at him several times. No, not yet. She needed more time to ripen on Pompey's vine before he snipped her off. At the moment he had enough on his plate dealing with Metella Little Goat, who was the wife of Gaius Verres. Now ploughing her furrow was one exercise in horticulture he found enormously gratifying! His sweet little wife was watching him, so he removed his eyes from Mucia Tertia and focused them on her instead. When he dropped one lid in a wink Cinnilla had to suppress a giggle, and demonstrated that she had inherited one characteristic from her father; she blushed scarlet. A dear lady. Never jealous, though of course she heard the rumors and probably believed them. After all these years she must surely know her Caesar! But she was too shaped by Aurelia ever to bring up the subject of his philanderings, and naturally he did not. They had nothing to do with her. With his mother he was not so circumspect it had been her idea in the first place to seduce the wives of his peers. Nor was he above asking her advice from time to time, when some woman proved difficult. Women were a mystery he suspected would always remain a mystery, and Aurelia's opinions were worth hearing. Now that she mixed with her peers from Palatine and Carinae she heard all the gossip and faithfully reported it to him free of embellishments. What he liked of course was to drive his women out of their minds for love of him before dropping them; it rendered them useless to their cuckolded husbands ever after. "I suppose all of you gathered to console Julia Antonia," he said, wondering if his mother would have the gall to offer him sweet watered wine and little cakes. "She arrived at my house trailing trinkets and those awful boys," said Aunt Julia, "and I knew I couldn't cope with all four of them. So I brought them here." "And you were visiting Aunt Julia?" asked Caesar of Mucia Tertia, his smile devastating. She drew a breath, caught it, coughed. I visit Julia a lot, Gaius Julius. The Quirinal is very close to the Pincian." "Yes, of course." He gave much the same smile to Aunt Julia, who was by no means impervious to it, but naturally saw it in a different way. "I suspect I'll see a great deal more of Julia Antonia in the future, alas," said Aunt Julia, sighing. "I wish I had your technique with her sons!" "Her visits won't go on for long, Aunt Julia, and I'll make it my business to have a little word with the boys, don't worry. Julia Antonia will be married again in no time." "No one would have her!" said Aurelia, snorting. "There are always men peculiarly susceptible to the charms of utterly helpless women," said Caesar. "Unfortunately she's a bad picker. So whoever she marries will prove no more satisfactory a husband than did Marcus Antonius the Man of Chalk."" "In that, my son, you are definitely right." He turned his attention to his sister Ju Ju, who had said not one word so far; she had always been the silent member of the family, despite owning a lively disposition. "I used to accuse Lia of being a bad picker," he said, "but I didn't give you a chance to show me what sort of picker you were, did I?" She gave him back his own smile. "I am very well content with the husband you picked for me, Caesar. However, I'm quite prepared to admit that the young men I used to fancy before I married have all turned out rather disappointing.'' "Then you'd better let Atius and me pick your daughter's husband when the time comes. Atia is going to be very beautiful. And intelligent, which means she won't appeal to everyone." "Isn't that a pity?" asked Ju Ju. "That she's intelligent, or that men don't appreciate it?" "The latter." "I like intelligent women," said Caesar, "but they're few and far between. Don't worry, we'll find Atia someone who does appreciate her qualities." Aunt Julia rose. "It will be dark soon, Caesar I know you prefer to be called that, even by your mother. But it still comes hard to me! I must go." "I'll ask Lucius Decumius's boys to find you a litter and escort you," said Caesar. "I have a litter," said Aunt Julia. "Mucia isn't allowed to go out on foot, so we traveled between the Quirinal and the Subura in extreme comfort or we would have had we not shared the conveyance with Julia Antonia, who nearly washed us away. We also have some stout fellows to escort us." "And I came by litter too," said Ju Ju. "Degenerate!" sniffed Aurelia. "You'd all do better to walk." "I'd love to walk," said Mucia Tertia softly, "but husbands don't see things the way you do, Aurelia. Gnaeus Pompeius thinks it unseemly for me to walk." Caesar's ears pricked. Aha! Some faint discontent! She was feeling constricted, too hedged about. But he said nothing, simply waited and chatted to everyone while a servant ran up to the crossroads square to summon the litters. "You don't look well, Aunt Julia" was the last subject he broached, and leaving it until he was handing her into her side of the roomy conveyance Pompey had provided for Mucia Tertia. "I'm growing old, Caesar," she said in a whisper, giving his hand a squeeze. "Fifty seven. But there's nothing the matter except that my bones ache when the weather's cold. I'm beginning to dread winters." "Are you warm enough up there on the outer Quirinal?" he asked sharply. "Your house is exposed to the north wind. Shall I have your cellar fitted with a hypocausis? "Save your money, Caesar. If I need it, I can afford to install a furnace myself," she said, and shut the curtains. "She isn't well, you know," he said to his mother as they went back into the apartment. Aurelia thought about that, then gave measured judgement. "She'd be well enough, Caesar, if she had more to live for. But husband and son are both dead. She has no one except us and Mucia Tertia. And we are not enough." The reception room was ablaze with the little flames of lamps and the shutters had been closed against the chill wind percolating down the light well. It looked warm and cheery, and there on the floor with Cinnilla was Caesar's daughter, almost six years old. An exquisite child, fine boned and graceful, so fair she had a silver look. When she saw her father her great blue eyes sparkled; she held out her arms. Tata, tata!" she cried. "Pick me up!" He picked her up, pressed his lips against her pale pink cheek. "And how's my princess today?" And while he listened with every sign of fascination to a litany of small and girlish doings, Aurelia and Cinnilla watched them both. Cinnilla's thoughts got no further than the fact that she loved them, but Aurelia's dwelt upon that word, princess. She is exactly that, a princess. Caesar will go far, and one day he will be very rich. The suitors will be unnumbered. But he won't be as kind to her as my mother and stepfather/uncle were to me. He will give her to the man he needs the most no matter how she feels about it. So I must train her to accept her fate, to go to it gracefully and in good spirits.