The Sacrilege

As he staggered back, the platform began to rock violently. I spared a glance down and saw that scores of Clodius's thugs had rallied to him and were trying to scramble up the sides of the elephant to rescue their master. The poor beast trumpeted with alarm, waving its torch-laden trunk about and scorching several bystanders.

At last, the strain proved to be too much for the unstable castle. The elephant stumbled sideways and the girth parted. The tower lurched and fell, landing on a set of steps amid a great splintering of wood and rending of wicker. We were thrown violently apart, and I somehow managed to retain my grip on my weapons. I lurched to my feet to see Clodius's whole mob a few steps away, but they had the look of abashed schoolboys and did not climb the stair as they helped Clodius, shaking his head groggily, to regain his feet. I looked to see who had cowed them and saw, standing in the doorway behind me, the lady Aurelia, Caesar's mother, livid with rage.

"Who dares to bring bloodied weapons to the house of the Pontifex Maximus?" she screeched. Hastily, I re-sheathed my sword and thrust my smeared caestus beneath my tunic.

"If you will excuse me, my lady," I said, "these men are trying to kill me. May I come inside?" I could see Julia standing behind her.

"If you enter this house, I will demand your public flogging!" said the old bat.

"Let him in, Grandmother!" Julia pleaded.

"Never!"

Clodius gri

"What is this?" Caesar shouted. He wore a military tunic and boots.

"This man," his mother said, pointing at me, "has violated your house. Have him executed at once, my son!"

Caesar smiled. "Now, Mother, calm yourself. This is Decius Caecilius Metellus the Younger, and the gods keep special watch over such as he. I, the Pontifex Maximus, have said so." He turned to Clodius. "Publius, call off your dogs."

But Clodius had gone into his gorgonlike rage. "Not this time, Caesar! He is mine!"

"Decius, come here," Caesar said. I stepped over to him, keeping a wary eye on Clodius. Caesar leaned from his saddle, an eyebrow sardonically arched. In a low voice, he said: "Decius, just how badly do you want to get out of Rome alive tonight?"

"Rather badly," I admitted.

"The only way you are going to do it is to ride out with me. I am on my way to Spain, and my men are all veterans of long experience. Clodius won't dare attack. But I want something from you first."

"Is that what you do these days, Caius Julius?" I said bitterly. "Make bargains, like some publicanus angling for a government contract?"

"It's the way of the new Rome," he said. "Be quick about it."

"What do you want?"

"Many things, but right now what you must give me is your evidence." He held forth his hand.

I looked at the enraged Clodius and his murderous men. Nowhere could I see Milo or his thugs. I was alone and I could measure my life expectancy in seconds. I took the message tube from my tunic and placed it in Caesar's hand.

"Is this all?" he demanded.

"It is," I said, sick at heart. He snapped his fingers, and a man led up one of the remounts and helped me scramble onto its back. He had a hard, scarred, veteran's face.

"Attack if you will, Clodius," Caesar said, radiating contempt. Clodius and his men fell back as we rode through them. I looked back at the doorway and Julia waved shyly. I waved back, rejoicing in my survival, sickened at my defeat. It was an odd sensation, and the situation was rather like one of those tedious Greek dramas.

We passed through the Forum, which was still alive with its surging mobs and its miniature elephant stampede. This night would be remembered for some time to come. I didn't see Pompey. As we rode through the streets, Caesar read the letter by the light of a torch held by one of his men. When he was finished, he stuffed it into a saddlebag.

"What a young fool, to put something like that in writing," Caesar said. "Just as well he's dead. He certainly had no future in Rome."

We moved out through the Ostian Gate and it closed behind us. After a mile or so, we halted.

"Come with me to Spain, Decius," Caesar said. "I shall attach you to my staff."

I shook my head. "My father tells me the family estate in Beneventum is in urgent need of my attention."

"As you will. You can return to the city in a month or two and all will be forgotten, temporarily. It will be interesting times when we are all back in Rome together again." He smiled. "As I said, I shall have work for you."

"I will never do your work, Caius Julius," I promised.

"You'll change your mind. And I want you to marry my niece, Julia Minor."

I gaped, unable to think of anything to say.

"Farewell, Decius," Caesar said. He wheeled his mount and he and his escort clopped off. I watched until the last glimmerings of torchlight disappeared into the surrounding gloom.

"Caesar's wife must be above suspicion," I yelled after them. In spite of everything, I couldn't help laughing.

These were the events of eleven days in the year 693 of the City of Rome, the Consulship of Calpurnianus and Messala Niger.

GLOSSARY

(Definitions apply to the last century of the Republic.)

Acta: Streets wide enough for one-way wheeled traffic.

Aedile: Elected officials in charge of upkeep of the city and the grain dole, regulaton of public morals, management of the markets and the public Games. There were two types: the plebeian aediles, who had no insignia of office, and the curule aediles, who wore the toga praetexta and sat in the sella curulis. The curule aediles could sit in judgment on civil cases involving markets and currency, while the plebeian aediles could only levy fines. Otherwise, their duties were the same. Since the magnificence of the Games one exhibited as aedile often determined election to higher office, it was an important stepping-stone in a political career. The office of aedile did not carry the imperium.

Ancile: (pi. ancilia) A small, oval sacred shield which fell from heaven in the reign of King Numa. Since there was a prophecy that it was tied to the stability of Rome, Numa had eleven exact copies made so nobody would know which one to steal. Their care was entrusted to a college of priests, the Salii (q.v.) and figured in a number of ceremonies each year.

Atrium: Once a word for house, in Republican times it was the entry hall of a house, opening off the street and used as a general reception area.

Atrium Vestae: The Palace of the Vestal and one of the most splendid buildings in Rome.

Augur: An official who observed omens for state purposes. He could forbid business and assemblies if he saw unfavorable omens.

Basilica: A building where courts met in inclement weather.

Caestus: The Classical boxing glove, made of leather straps and reinforced by bands, plates or spikes of bronze.

Caliga: The Roman military boot. Actually a heavy sandal with hobnailed sole.

Campus Martius: A field outside the old city wall, formerly the assembly area and drill field for the army. It was where the popular assemblies met. By late Republican times, buildings were encroaching on the field.

Censor: Magistrates elected usually every fifth year to oversee the census of the citizens and purge the roll of Senators of unworthy members. They could forbid certain religious practices or luxuries deemed bad for public morals or generally "un-Roman." There were two Censors, and each could overrule the other. They wore the toga praetexta and sat in the sella curulis, but since they had no executive powers they were not accompanied by lictors. The office did not carry the imperium. Censors were usually elected from among the ex-Consuls, and the censorship was regarded as the capstone of a political career.