The Sacrilege

As we walked back across the Forum, somebody behind us said: "Does Caesar's niece have to be above suspicion, too?" and everybody laughed uproariously until we were attacked by a crowd armed with every ma

"That one's for Capito," I said to Milo. "I want two more for Nero and Purpurea."

"They were no friends of yours," he said through his grin.

"They were Romans, and foreigners shouldn't be allowed to kill Romans. I take it very ill of Pompey that he should use his barbarians thus."

We made it to Milo's house with only minor casualties. With the massive door bolted behind us, Milo called for food and bandages and sent sentries up to the roof. With the excitement over, I began to ache in a hundred places. Apprehensively, I opened my tunic and examined my cut. So excellent was Asklepiodes's sewing that I had not sprung a single stitch, and only a bit of blood oozed from the wound's edges.

"Decius," Milo said, "eat something, have a little wine and get some sleep. I'm not sure how you propose to survive until tomorrow night even with my help. I can ask a great deal of my men, but even I can't demand that free men miss a triumph just to preserve the hide of Rome's maddest Senator."

This was odd phrasing, but in later conversation with Milo's men I learned that I was, indeed, gaining this reputation for eccentricity. They regarded me as a sort of mascot, rather as soldiers in foreign parts will adopt some exotic beast and invest it with spurious, luck-bestowing qualities. I thought it rather presumptuous that such lowborn scum should regard a noble Senator thus, but it is always a good idea to stay on fine terms with men like those.

I did as Milo suggested. I ate well, had just a little wine, then went to one of his guest rooms and slept gloriously. I would wager that I slept better that night than Pompey, Caesar, Crassus or Clodius.

Chapter XIV

It was a beautiful morning. I rose just before sunrise and went up to the roof of Milo's house to watch the first light strike the gilded rooftops of the Capitol. Since it was likely to be my last such sight, I took it in with uncommon relish. All my frustrated agitation of the past few days was gone. I knew exactly what I had to do, and I was at peace.

This is not to say that I was not excited. It would be an eventful day, whatever its outcome. I spoke with the sentries and they said that Clodius's men had hung around for several hours, but then had gone away. They also said that there had been a good many unfamiliar faces among the enemy. Pompey's reinforcements, I thought.

At intervals along the roof, between the fire buckets full of water, stood bins of fist-sized rocks. The city had no laws against possession of rocks, but few things are more effective when launched from a roof. The guards boasted that they had left some sore heads among the besiegers.

Milo came onto the roof, active and alert as always. He never seemed to sleep.

"What's the plan?" he asked. "The triumphal procession will be forming up soon."

"As a Senator," I said, "I will have to take part, so first we must go to the Circus Flaminius. Just get me there safely and I will do the rest."

He was incredulous. "You really propose to march in Pompey's triumph?"

"As a Senator, I consider it my duty," I assured him.

He leaned back and roared with laughter. "You may be a fool, Decius, but you have real style. To the Circus, then."

Hermes had delivered my formal toga to Milo's house so that I would be properly dressed. Awkward though the garment was, it was so voluminous that it gave adequate concealment for my weapons.

"I wonder if Pompey will be bold enough to have you attacked during the procession," Milo mused as we walked toward the Campus Matrius.

"With luck, he won't know I'm there for a while," I said. "The Senate and magistrates march in front, with the gods. Pompey can't even come into the city until his soldiers have marched through the whole route and had the gates shut behind them afterward. As for Clodius"- I patted the handle of my sword to reassure myself-"we shall just have to see how rash he is."

All Rome was flocking to get a good position to see the triumph. The greater part would be in the two great Circuses, but a window or rooftop along the route would afford a better and closer view. Along the Via Sacra, some people had camped out for the past two or three nights on especially favorable rooftops, and landlords had rented out the best windows for tidy sums. The Roman need to gape at glory was insatiable.

At the Circus I had to leave the comforting proximity of Milo and his thugs. Circus officials, accustomed to sorting out huge crowds, were ordering matters. Near the gate where the chariots enter for the races, I was hustled toward the rear of the senatorial procession.

"By Jupiter!" said a junior Senator. "It's Decius! I can't believe you'd show your face in public."

"Duty calls," I said. "How could I forgo my very first opportunity to participate in a triumph?"

"Don't get us laughing in front of the citizens, Metellus," said another.

Atop the spina, a sheep was sacrificed and its entrails examined. To nobody's surprise, the priests a

With a blast of trumpets, we stepped out and entered the Circus, walking up one side, rounding the spina and then back down the other side. The populace applauded respectfully, although the Senate certainly wasn't what they had come to see. And so it went, all the long triumphal route, finally down the Via Sacra to the Forum, then up the Capitol. It was exhilarating, although my mind was elsewhere much of the time.

After a formal salute to the image of Jupiter Capitolinus, we Senators scattered to get good vantage points for the main part of the show. I began to walk down the hill toward the Forum and the Rostra, which was a fine vantage point from which to view a spectacle. And from which to be seen.

A hand gripped my arm and I reached for my sword I hadn't expected to be attacked on the Capitol. Men have died for less foolish assumptions.

"Draw that and I'll have you sentenced to the Sicilian sulfur mines."

"Why, Caius Julius Caesar, you do me great honor." He smiled widely, nodding and acknowledging greetings and well-wishers. I smiled back as gaily. We were two distinguished Romans, walking down the hill on this great day of Rome's triumph.

"Pompey wants you dead, and by all the gods, I never saw a man cooperate so wholeheartedly in his own assassination! How did a family of plodding drudges like the Metellans ever produce a specimen like you?"

"Oh, come now, Caius Julius, we may be a bit conservative, but we are scarcely-"

"Shut up and listen!" he hissed. "You might, just might, live to draw breath tomorrow if you will heed me. Pompey will be far too busy to concern himself with you for the next few days, what with his triumph and his games. Clodius thirsts for your blood, but while the celebrations are going on, he won't be able to get his men to do anything."

"Good," I said. "Just Clodius and me. That's the way I want it."

"Venus, my ancestress, deliver me from such fools!" Caesar cried, in one of his better theatrical gestures. "He has those Etruscans Pompey loaned him, and they don't care about Roman holidays."