The Catiline Conspiracy (15 page)

"Decius, assure your father that he has my support for next year's censorship election," he said.

"He will rejoice to know it," I told him. "Your support is as good as an assurance of election." This was not much of an exaggeration.

"Getting elected is only the half of it," he reminded me. "I hope he has better luck in his colleague than I did." Two years before, Crassus had had a notably unsuccessful censorship. He and his colleague, the great Catulus, could agree on nothing and each had undone the other's work. Finally, they had both abdicated without even completing the census of citizens, which was their primary duty in office.

"You know my father," I said. "He gets along with nearly everybody. He wants Hortalus to come out of retirement and stand for Censor. They would work well together, but Hortalus has lost his taste for public office since Cicero has risen so high."

"I'll speak with Hortalus," Crassus assured me. "He'll never be able to resist wearing the
toga praetexta
one more time, if he can be assured of working with a cooperative colleague."

"That would be a great favor, sir," I said.

He leaned close. "Can you believe these Parthians? They're more contemptible than the Egyptians! Mark me, Decius, as soon as they give us an excuse, I'm going to demand a command against that nation if I have to pay for the whole campaign myself. I'll be looking for legates then. It'll be a good place for a young man to make his military reputation."

"I'll keep it in mind, and I'm honored by the offer." Inwardly, I made a vow to have nothing to do with the East, nor any military adventure led by Crassus, a decision I have never regretted.

He clapped me on the shoulder. "Good lad. And good luck at the festival."

No sooner had Crassus left my side than Catilina sought me out. "Decius, I heard about your captainship of the Subura. Congratulations!"

"Lucius, these constant reminders of my fate are stealing the pleasure from my evening."

He grinned and chuckled. "Think it might get rough, eh? But that's the fun of it. Excitement and honor, that's what life is all about." And there you have Lucius Sergius Catilina: a big twelve-year-old boy who never grew up. Young Marcus Antonius was to become the same sort of man. The two had many qualities in common.

"Have you ever acted in that capacity?" I asked.

"Of course. I captained the
Via Sacra
when I was about your age. That was in the consulate of Carbo and Cinna. I was laid up in bed for a month afterward, but the glory was worth it."

"As it occurs, I have a special hazard this year," I pointed out.

"Right. Clodius represents the
Via Sacra
this year. That little--" He looked around. "Clodia's not within hearing, is she? I'll never understand how a woman like that could be sister to a slimy little reptile like Publius." He lowered his voice, conspiratorially. "Look, Decius, I'm going to assign a few of my lads to look out for you. Not all of them live in the Subura, but who's to know, eh?"

I was willing to trust in the protection of my neighbors, but anything that might get me closer to Catilina's doings would be welcome. "Thank you. Ordinarily, it would just be a roughhouse, but I suspect that Publius and his boys may take the opportunity to murder me."

"Just what I was thinking. Never fear, my men will watch out for you. And"--he paused dramatically--"after the festival, I am holding a little get-together here. Only the really important men to attend, if you get my meaning. It'll mean great things for your future, I can promise you."

This was what I had been hoping for. "If I am in any shape to go anywhere at all, I shall be here without fail."

"Good, good. And"--he all but nudged me in the side--"Aurelia's quite taken with you. And that, in turn, pleases Orestilla no end." At that moment, the lady in question appeared at his side and he placed an arm around her shoulders, a sight that would have been shocking in a less sophisticated gathering. At this time, about the only thing that was still regarded as perverted was a public display of affection toward one's wife. It was not as if they were out on a street or in the Forum, but even at a gathering like this it was rather daring. Cato would have called for his exile. Somehow, I found this simple gesture almost ennobling. Even the worst of men have their little affections and redeeming loves, and Sergius Catilina was far from the worst of men, despite what was said about him later.

"We are finally set up," Orestilla told us, slipping an arm around his substantial waist. "Come and let's get dinner started, everyone is starving."

Through the meal, I wondered whether I was just kindly disposed toward Catilina because of what he had said about Aurelia. Could he just be dangling her before me as bait? I did not want to think so, but the very fact that I was willing his words to be true made my own judgment suspect. I could take little pleasure in the banquet. I was couched close enough to a Parthian to smell his perfume, which ruined my appetite, and I dared not drink any wine, since I had to be ready for the ordeal of the festival in two days' time. The conversation was uninspiring as well, for I remember little of it, even though I was sober.

When the dinner was over and the hired acrobats were performing their contortions, I rose from the table and took a walk in the garden, which was rather large for a house within the city walls. To take best advantage of the limited space, it was a labyrinth of hedges high enough to block the sight of nearby buildings, so that one could wander among the plantings and imagine that they were on the grounds of a country estate. Here and there, lamps and small torches provided illumination and fountains played musically in little fishponds.

For the moment, all was serene. Intrigues and horse festivals seemed far away. In the dark nooks and on the other sides of hedges, I could hear whisperings and other, more intimate sounds. I had not been the only one to steal away from the party for a bit of privacy. A voice called my name quietly and I turned to see a shadowy form with a dim light shining behind it.

"Aurelia?" I said, my mouth gone dry. She came closer until I could feel the warmth from her body.

"I'm so glad I found you here," she said, barely whispering. "I wasn't expecting such a crowd tonight and I thought we would have some time together. I have to go back in a few minutes, but you'll be here after the festival, won't you? Sergius said you would."

"Depending upon my condition," I said. I desperately wanted her to stay. "Surely, you don't have to--"

She came even closer. "Oh, I am sure you will come through it gloriously! Just stay behind after everyone else returns home two nights from now, and--then I can treat you as a hero should be treated."

"If I am going to emerge from the festival a hero," I said, "then perhaps you could lend me some more of your luck."

She came into my arms and pressed herself against me, her arms winding around my neck and pulling my head down, first kissing me, then drawing my face into the valley between her breasts. My hands slid over her and the silken gown was like a coating of oil. Voluptuous as she was, her flesh was as firm as that of a young racehorse. My hands tested the firmness of her thighs and buttocks, the rocklike points of her nipples as her tongue played with mine. Then, much too soon, she broke away.

"I must go back. Later, Decius. In two nights, we will have all the time we need." Then she turned and was gone.

I was trembling like a boy who has just had his first, inconclusive experiment with a slave girl. My pulse pounded in my ears and I was sure that my breathing could be heard on the other side of the hedges. I had to readjust my
subligaculum
before I could return to the house and take my leave. I must have looked a bit wild-eyed and disheveled, but everyone else was far the worse for the wine, so my condition was not remarked upon.

As I made my way home through the dark streets, 1 tried to analyze the things I had seen and heard in the last few days, but Aurelia kept intruding on my thoughts. I was sure that I was missing some terribly obvious things, but my mind never worked properly when I was obsessed with a woman. This may not have been solely a personal failing, as other men have reported similar afflictions.

Whatever my frailties may have been, when I got home I collapsed on my bed in a fever of lust and confusion.

That year, we held the festival of the October Horse in the Forum. In other years, it was usually held in the
Campus Martius
, but the augurs had seen signs that were unfavorable to the
Campus Martins
. Mars wanted the festival held within the city walls this year. In earliest times, the festival had always been in the Forum, but in those days the Forum had been an open field. With its present clutter of public buildings, temples, monuments and speakers' platforms it was a rough place to hold a horse race. But by that time the city was spilling out onto the
Campus Martius
as well, since it had grown too crowded for the old walls to contain any longer. The old mustering-field for the army was quickly growing as urbanized as the rest of the city.

Holding the race in the Forum was favorable to me in one respect: If it had been in the
Campus Martins
, the race would have been run in chariots. I was a competent rider, but a wretched charioteer. The chariot has been obsolete for centuries, except for races and ceremonial processions, so I never saw any point in acquiring the skill, although I had taken some lessons out of curiosity. Clodius, on the other hand, was known to practice regularly at the stables of the Greens (he had switched from Red to Green upon becoming a man of the people). It would have been unthinkably disgraceful for any wellborn man to race publicly, but many race-crazed young men practiced assiduously to learn a skill they would never be able to use.

To my further advantage was Clodius himself. He was a bit shorter than I, but of stocky build and he weighed a good many pounds more. Much would depend on the respective strength of the horses we drew. Since they would have been chosen from among the best race-horses of the stables, it was probable that their power would be nearly equal, giving me the advantage.

With half the Subura behind me, I entered the Forum amid thunderous cheers. The whole city seemed to be packed into the ancient city center, or on the balconies and atop the gates and rooftops overlooking it. People had climbed onto the monuments for a better view. Beside me were two other men who would ride for the Subura. They were both handlers for the Circus, expert riders.

Mars in those days was still an extramural god, and had no altar within the city except for a shrine in the house of the
Pontifex Maximus
, so a temporary altar had been erected in front of the
Rostra
, similar to the permanent altar on the
Campus Martins
. There stood the
Flamen Martialis
and his attendants, ready to conduct the ceremony. Behind the priest, on the
Rostra
, stood the magistrates of state and the other
pontifices
and
flamines
, the augurs, and a few privileged foreigners.