Colleen McCullough - 2. The Grass Crown

He took his time upon the journey, riding upon a mule without an escort of any kind, his hat on his head, and his head down. All along the way people were talking; the news of Sulpicius and the demise of the Senate had spread almost as quickly as the news of the massacre in Asia Province. As he chose to travel on the Via Latina, Sulla passed through loyally Roman countryside the whole way, and learned that many of the local people considered Sulpicius an Italian agent, that some thought him the agent of Mithridates, and that no one was in favor of a Rome without the Senate. Even though the magical name of Gaius Marius was also being bruited about, the innate conservatism of countryfolk tended toward skepticism of his fitness to command in this new war. Unrecognized, Sulla quite enjoyed these conversations in the various hostelries he patronized along the way, for he had left his lictors in Capua and was dressed like any ordinary traveler. And on the road he thought in time to the jogging of his mule, leisurely thoughts which whirled and swirled, inchoate almost but not quite. Not quite. Of one thing he was sure. He had done the right thing in electing to return to his legions. For they were his legions or four of them were. He had led them himself for close to two years, they had given him his Grass Crown. The fifth legion was another Campanian one, under the command of Lucius Caesar first, then of Titus Didius, then of Metellus Pius. Somehow when it had come time to select a fifth legion to go east with him against Mithridates, he found himself turned against his original idea, which had been to second a Marian legion from service with Cinna and Cornutus. And now I am very glad indeed that I have no Marian legion in Capua, thought Lucius Cornelius Sulla. "That's the problem with being a senator," said Sulla's loyal assistant Lucullus. "Custom dictates that all a senator's money be tied up in land and property, and who is going to leave money idle? So it becomes impossible to lay one's hands on sufficient cash when a senator suddenly needs it. We've got into the habit of borrowing." "Are you in debt?" asked Sulla, not having thought of it; like Gaius Aurelius Cotta, Lucius Licinius Lucullus had been hustled into the Senate after Sulla had given the censors a public kick up the backside. He was twenty-eight years old. "I am in debt to the amount of ten thousand sesterces, Lucius Cornelius," said Lucullus levelly. "However, my brother Varro will have seen to it, I imagine, with things in Rome the way they are. He's the one with the money these days. I struggle. But thanks to my uncle Metellus Numidicus and my cousin Pius, I do manage to meet the senatorial census." "Well, be of good cheer, Lucius Licinius! When we get to the east we'll have the gold of Mithridates to play with." "What do you intend to do?" asked Lucullus. "If we move very quickly, we can probably sail before Sulpicius's laws are enforced." "No, I think I must remain to see what happens," said Sulla. "It would be foolish to sail with my command in doubt." He sighed. "Actually I think it's time I wrote to Pompey Strabo." Lucullus's clear grey eyes rested upon his general with a big question in their depths, but in the end he said nothing. If any man had ever looked in control of a situation, that man was Sulla. Six days later a letter came from Flaccus Princeps Senatus, not officially couriered; Sulla broke it open and scanned its short contents carefully. "Well," he said to Lucullus, who had brought the note, "it seems there are only about forty senators left in the Senate. The Varian exiles are being recalled but if in debt are no longer to be members of the Senate, and of course all of them are in debt. The Italian citizens and the freedman citizens are to be distributed across all thirty-five tribes. And last but not least! Lucius Cornelius Sulla has been relieved of his command and replaced by Gaius Marius in a special enactment of the sovereign People." "Oh," said Lucullus, flattened. Sulla threw the paper down and snapped his fingers to a servant. "My cuirass and sword," he said to the man, and then, to Lucullus, "Summon the whole army to an assembly." An hour later Sulla ascended the camp forum speaker's platform in full military dress save for the fact that he wore his hat, not a helmet. Look familiar, Lucius Cornelius, he told himself look like their Sulla. "Well, men," he said in a clear, carrying voice, but without shouting, "it looks as if we're not going to fight Mithridates after all! You've been sitting here kicking your heels until those in power in Rome and they are not the consuls! made up their minds. They have now made up their minds. The command in the war against King Mithridates of Pontus is to go to Gaius Marius by order of the Plebeian Assembly. The Senate of Rome is no more, as there are not enough senators left to constitute a quorum. Therefore all decisions about matters martial and military have been assumed by the Plebs under the guidance of their tribune, Publius Sulpicius Rufus." He paused to let the soldiers murmur among themselves and transmit his words to those too far away to hear, then began to speak again in that deceptively normal voice (Metrobius had taught him to project it years ago). "Of course," he said, "the fact of the matter is that I am the legally elected senior consul that the choice of any command should by rights be mine and that the Senate of Rome conferred a proconsular imperium upon me for the duration of the war against King Mithridates of Pontus. And as is my right! I chose the legions who would go with me. I chose you. My men through thick and thin, through one grueling campaign after another. Why would I not choose you? You know me and I know you. I don't love you, though I believe Gaius Marius loves his men. I hope you don't love me, though I believe Gaius Marius's men love him. But then, I have never thought it necessary for men to love other men in order to get the job done. I mean, why should I love you? You're a pack of smelly rascals out of every hole in every sewer inside or outside Rome! But ye gods, how I respect you! Time and time again I've asked you to give me your best and by all the gods, you've always given it!" Someone started to cheer, then everyone was cheering. Except the small group who stood directly in front of the platform. The tribunes of the soldiers, elected magistrates who commanded the consul's legions. Last year's men, who had included Lucullus and Hortensius, had liked working under Sulla. This year's men loathed Sulla, thought him a harsh master, overly demanding. One eye on them, Sulla let his soldiers cheer. "So there we were, men, all going off to fight Mithridates across the sea in Greece and Asia Minor! Not trampling down the crops of our beloved Italy, not raping Italian women. Oh, what a campaign it would have been! Do you know how much gold Mithridates has? Mountains of it! Over seventy strongholds in Lesser Armenia alone crammed to the tops of their walls with gold! Gold that might have been ours. Oh; I don't mean to imply that Rome would not have got her share and more than her share! There's so much gold we could have bathed in it! Rome and us! Not to mention lush Asian women. Slaves galore. Knacky items of no use to anyone but a soldier." He shrugged, lifted his shoulders, held out his hands with their palms up and empty. "It is not to be, men. We've been relieved of our commission by the Plebeian Assembly. Not a body any Roman expects to be telling him who's to fight, or who's to command. But it's legal. So I'm told. Though I cannot help but ask myself if it is legal to cancel the imperium of the senior consul in the year of his consulship! I am Rome's servant. So are all of you. Better say goodbye to your dreams of gold and foreign women. Because when Gaius Marius goes east to fight King Mithridates of Pontus, he'll be leading his own legions. He won't want to lead mine." Down from the platform came Sulla, walked through the ranks of his twenty-four tribunes of the soldiers without looking at a single one and disappeared into his tent, leaving Lucullus to dismiss the men. "That," said Lucullus when he reported to the general's tent, "was masterly. You don't have the reputation of an orator, and I daresay you don't obey the rules of rhetoric. But you certainly know how to get your message across, Lucius Cornelius." "Why, thank you, Lucius Licinius," said Sulla cheerfully as he divested himself of cuirass and pteryges. “I think I do too." "What happens now?" "I wait to be formally relieved of my command." "Would you really do it, Lucius Cornelius?" "Do what?" "March on Rome." Sulla's eyes opened wide. "My dear Lucius Licinius! How could you even think to ask such a thing?" "That," said Lucullus, "is not a straight answer." "It's the only one you'll get," said Sulla.