Roma

Leaning upon Cletus’s arm—for he was genuinely growing a little weary—Kaeso headed toward the Aventine Hill for the final destination of his excursion. In the vicinity of the Circus Maximus, he noticed a highly animated group of men. From the way they were all talking at once, they appeared to be discussing some highly significant bit of news. Was the news dreadful or joyous? Kaeso could not tell from their expressions.

Among the men, he recognized an old acquaintance, Lucius Pinarius, and sent Cletus to ask him over.

“What’s going on, Lucius?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“Would I be asking, if I had?”

“Ha

Kaeso drew a sharp breath. As simple as that: Ha

“How?”

“Suicide. Sixty-four years old, and still plotting against us, trying to stir up trouble in Greece and Asia. The Senate finally had enough of his treachery and sent a military force to extradite him. I suppose he couldn’t face the humiliation of being tried and executed. He took poison. But before he died, he dictated his last words to a scribe: ‘Let us now put an end to the great anxiety of the Romans, who have thought it too long and too heavy a task to wait for a hated old man to die.’”

“A bitter end.”

“And long overdue. Scipio Africanus—”

“Yes, I know: Scipio should have killed him when he had the chance, and burned Carthage to the ground. But I’ll not hear a word spoken against the memory of my dear departed friend, certainly not on this day!”

Kaeso turned away from Pinarius. He called for Cletus to lend him his arm so they could proceed.

How prescient Scipio had been! All had come to pass just as he predicted. But what a stroke of fate, that the two great generals who once bestrode the world like Titans both should have died within a year!

With Cletus to help him, Kaeso struggled up the slope of the Aventine, finally arriving at the humble house of E

“I suppose you’ve heard the news,” said Kaeso.

“About Ha

Kaeso smiled. “What about Scipio’s epitaph? Have you finished it yet?”

“I have indeed. It’s ready to be chiseled on his grave monument. I was greatly honored that in his will he asked me to compose it.”

“Who else? You were always his favorite poet. Well?”

E

Kaeso made a face. “You know I can’t possibly read this. Recite it aloud to me.”

E

The sun that rises above the eastern-most marshes of Lake Maeotis Illumines no man my equal in deeds. If any mortal may ascend to the heaven of immortals, For me alone the gods’ gate stands open.

Kaeso managed a crooked smile. “A bit grandiose for my taste, but just the sort of thing Scipio would have wanted. Where on earth is Lake Maeotis?”

E

Kaeso nodded. Since becoming a follower of the teachings of the Greek philosopher Pythagoras, E

E

“Two giants, hounded to death by lesser men,” muttered Kaeso.

“If you ask me, Scipio is well out of it,” said E

Kaeso nodded. “People’s tastes have changed as well. I see it in the theater. No more comedies by Plautus. Now we have tragedies by E

E

Kaeso stiffened. He opened his mouth to change the subject, but E

“What horrid days those were! The official inquiry, the flimsy accusations of crimes and conspiracy against the state, the cult and all its members outlawed. Thousands of men and women executed, forced into exile, driven to suicide! The hatred unleashed against those poor people was sickening, and absolutely nothing could be done to stop it; say a word against the inquiry, and you were branded a sympathizer and persecuted along with them! I myself was never part of the cult, but I knew men who were, and even that tenuous association put me under suspicion for a while. I was terrified.

“And yet, a remnant of the cult may yet survive. There’s been a new series of arrests. Only the other day I witnessed one, just down the street. The scene was all too familiar: the accused man, dazed, trembling with fear, being dragged from his home by stone-faced lictors. Meanwhile, the household slave who betrayed the poor wretch stood off to one side, trying not to look guilty. A chilling sight!”

Kaeso could stand no more. He abruptly rose and told E

“So soon? I had hoped—”

“I’m afraid I have no time. I merely wanted to hear Scipio’s epitaph. Thank you. But now I really must go. I’m expecting callers at my house, later today.”

“Di

“Not exactly.”

Back at home, tired after the long walk, Kaeso sat alone in his study and gazed at the many scrolls that filled his library; they were like old friends, to whom he must bid a sad farewell. He made sure his will was in the proper place. Though he could not read it, he found the passage that he had instructed his secretary to underline that morning. It mentioned the fascinum specifically, and his desire that Menenia should wear it on special occasions, and when she did so, that she should remember her loving grandfather. Kaeso removed the talisman from his neck and laid it atop the will.