Colleen McCullough - 2. The Grass Crown

It pains me, Gnaeus Pompeius, to be obliged by the Senate to send your cousin Rufus to you under these circumstances. No one is more appreciative than I of the many, many services you have done Rome. And no one will be more appreciative than I if you can do Rome yet one more service -one of considerable import to all our future careers. Our mutual colleague Quintus Pompeius is a sadly shattered man. From the moment of his son's death my own son-in-law, and father of my two grandchildren our poor dear friend has been suffering an alarming decline. As his presence is a grave embarrassment, it has become necessary for me to remove him. You see, he cannot find it in himself to approve of the measures I have been forced I repeat, forced to take in order to preserve the mos maiorum. Now I know, Gnaeus Pompeius, that you fully approve of these measures of mine, as I have kept you properly informed and you have communicated with me regularly yourself. It is my considered opinion that the good Quintus Pompeius is in urgent and desperate need of a very long rest. It is my hope that he will find this rest with you in Umbria. I do hope you will forgive me for my telling Quintus Pompeius about your anxiety to be rid of your command before your troops are discharged from service. It relieved his mind greatly to know that you will welcome him gladly.

Pompey Strabo laid Sulla's piece of paper down and broke the official Senate seal. What he thought as he read did not appear on his face. Finished deciphering it like Sulla's note, he kept his voice too low and slurred for Pompeius Rufus to hear he put it on his desk, looked at Pompeius Rufus, and smiled broadly. "Well, Quintus Pompeius, yours is indeed a welcome presence!" he said. "It will be a pleasure to shed my duties." Expecting rage frustration, indignation, despite Sulla's assurances, Pompeius Rufus gaped. "You mean Lucius Cornelius was right? You don't mind? Honestly?" "Mind? Why should I mind? I am delighted," said Pompey Strabo. "My purse is feeling the pinch." "Your purse?" "I have ten legions in the field, Quintus Pompeius, and I'm paying more than half of them myself." 'Are you?" "Well, Rome can't." Pompey Strabo got up from his desk. "It's time the men who aren't my own were discharged, and it's a task I don't want. I like to fight, not write things. Haven't got good enough eyesight, for one. Though I did have a cadet in my service who could write superbly. Actually loved doing it! Takes all sorts, I suppose." Pompey Strabo's arm went round Pompeius Rufus's shoulders. "Now come and meet my legates and my tribunes. All men who've served under me for a long time, so take no notice if they seem upset. I haven't told them of my intentions." The astonishment and chagrin Pompey Strabo hadn't shown was clearly written on the faces of Brutus Damasippus and Gellius Poplicola when Pompey Strabo gave them the news. "No, no, boys, it's excellent!" cried Pompey Strabo. "It will also do my son good to serve some other man than his father. We all get far too complacent when there are no changes in wind direction. This will freshen everybody up." That afternoon Pompey Strabo paraded his army and permitted the new general to inspect it. "Only four legions here my own men," said Pompey Strabo as he accompanied Pompeius Rufus down the ranks. "The other six are all over the place, mostly mopping up or loafing. One in Camerinum, one in Fanum Fortunae, one in Ancona, one in Iguvium, one in Arretium, and one in Cingulum. You'll have quite a lot of traveling to do as you discharge them. There doesn't seem much point in bringing them all together just to give them their papers." "I won't mind the traveling," said Pompeius Rufus, who was feeling somewhat better. Perhaps his body servant was in the right of it, perhaps the omen didn't indicate his death. That night Pompey Strabo held a small banquet in his warm and commodious farmhouse. His very attractive young son was present, as were the other cadets, the legates Lucius Junius Brutus Damasippus and Lucius Gellius Poplicola, and four unelected military tribunes. "Glad I'm not consul anymore and have to put up with those fellows," said Pompey Strabo, meaning the elected tribunes of the soldiers. "Heard they refused to go to Rome with Lucius Cornelius. Typical. Stupid oafs! All got inflated ideas of their importance." "Do you really approve of the march on Rome?" asked Pompeius Rufus a little incredulously. "Definitely. What else could Lucius Cornelius do?" "Accept the decision of the People." "An unconstitutional spilling of the consul's imperium? Oh, come now, Quintus Pompeius! It wasn't Lucius Cornelius acted illegally, it was the Plebeian Assembly and that traitorous cunnus Sulpicius. And Gaius Marius. Greedy old grunt. He's past it, but he hasn't even got the sense left to realize that. Why should he be allowed to act unconstitutionally without anyone's saying a word against him, while poor Lucius Cornelius stands up for the constitution and gets shit thrown at him from every direction?" “The People never have loved Lucius Cornelius, but they most certainly don't love him now." "Does that worry him?" asked Pompey Strabo. "I don't think so. I also think it ought to worry him." "Rubbish! And cheer up, cousin! You're out of it now. When they find Marius and Sulpicius and all the rest, you won't be blamed for their execution," said Pompey Strabo. "Have some more wine." The next morning the junior consul decided to stroll about the camp, familiarize himself with its layout. The suggestion he do so had come from Pompey Strabo, who declined to keep him company. "Better if the men see you on your own," he said. Still astonished at the warmth of his reception, Pompeius Rufus walked wherever he liked, finding himself greeted by everyone from centurions to rankers in a most friendly manner. His opinion was asked about this or that, he was flattered and deferred to. However, he was intelligent enough to keep his most condemnatory thoughts to himself until such time as Pompey Strabo was gone and his own command an established thing. Among these unfavorable reactions was shock at the lack of hygiene in the camp's sanitary arrangements; the cesspits and latrines were neglected, and far too close to the well from which the men were drawing water. This was typical of genuine landsmen, thought Pompeius Rufus. Once they considered a place was fouled, they just picked up and moved somewhere else. When the junior consul saw a large group of soldiers coming toward him he felt no fear, no premonition, for they all wore smiles and all seemed eager for a conference. His spirits lifted; perhaps he could tell them what he thought about camp hygiene. So as they clustered thickly about him he smiled on them pleasantly, and hardly felt the first sword blade as it sheared through his leather under-dress, slid between two ribs, and kept on going. Other swords followed, many and quick. He didn't even cry out, didn't have time to think about the mice and his socks. He was dead before he fell to earth. The men melted away. "What a sad business!" exclaimed Pompey Strabo to his son as he got up from his knees. "Stone dead, poor fellow! Must have been wounded thirty times. All mortal too. Good sword work must have been good men." "But who?" asked another cadet when Young Pompey didn't answer. "Soldiers, obviously," said Pompey Strabo. "I imagine the men didn't want a change of general. I had heard something to that effect from Damasippus, but I didn't take it too seriously." "What will you do, Father?" asked Young Pompey. "Send him back to Rome." "Isn't that illegal? Casualties in the war are supposed to be given a funeral on the spot." "The war's over, and this is the consul," said Pompey Strabo. "I think the Senate should see his body. Young Gnaeus, my son, you can make all the arrangements. Damasippus can escort the body." It was done with maximum effect. Pompey Strabo sent a courier to summon a meeting of the Senate, then delivered Quintus Pompeius Rufus to the door of the Curia Hostilia. No explanation was tendered beyond what Damasippus had to say in person and that was simply that the army of Pompey Strabo refused to have a different commander. The Senate got the message. Gnaeus Pompeius Strabo was humbly asked if considering that his delegated successor was dead he would mind keeping his command in the north. Sulla read his personal letter from Pompey Strabo in private.