The First Man in Rome (11 page)

"What did she ask for?" Gaius Marius smiled.

"Oh, about what we expected. Sweetmeats and clothes."

"And you, deprived of your library membership?"

"I chose the finest lamp oil and the best wicks, and struck a bargain with Julia. If I could borrow the books she borrowed, then she could use my lamps to read by."

Marius finished his smile at leisure, liking the author of this moral little tale enormously. What a simple, unenvious, happy life he enjoyed! Surrounded by a wife and children he actually strove to please, was interested in as individuals. No doubt he was spot-on in his character analyses of his offspring, and young Gaius wouldn't pick a wife out of a Suburan gutter.

He cleared his throat. "Gaius Julius, it has been an absolutely delightful evening. But now I think it's time you told me why I have had to stay a sober man."

"If you don't mind, I'll dismiss the servants first," Caesar said. "The wine is right here where we can reach it ourselves, and now that the moment of truth has arrived, we don't need to be so abstemious."

His scrupulousness surprised Marius, used now to the utter indifference with which the Roman upper classes viewed their household slaves. Oh, not in terms of treatment—they were usually good to their people—but they did seem to think that their people were stuffed and inanimate when it came to overhearing what ought to be private. This was a habit Marius had never become reconciled to himself; like Caesar, his own father had firmly believed in dismissing the servants.

"They gossip dreadfully, you know," said Caesar when they were alone behind a tightly closed door, "and we've nosy neighbors on either side. Rome might be a big place, but when it comes to the spread of gossip on the Palatine— why, it's a village! Marcia tells me there are several among her friends who actually stoop to paying their servants for items of gossip—
and
give bonuses when the gossip turns out to be accurate! Besides, servants have thoughts and feelings too, so it's better not to involve them."

"You, Gaius Julius, ought to have been consul, then turned into our most eminent consular, and been elected censor," said Marius with sincerity.

"I agree with you, Gaius Marius, I ought indeed! But I haven't the money to have sought higher office."

"I have the money. Is that why I'm here? And kept sober?"

Caesar looked shocked. "My dear Gaius Marius, of course not! Why, I'm closer to sixty than I am to fifty! At this late stage, my public career is ossified. No, it is my sons with whom I am concerned, and their sons when the time comes."

Marius sat up straight and turned on the couch to face his host, who did the same. Since his cup was empty, Marius picked up the jug and poured himself an unwatered draft, sipped it, and looked stunned. "Is this what I've been watering down to the merest taste all night?" he demanded.

Caesar smiled. "Dear me, no! That rich I'm not, I assure you. The wine we watered down was an ordinary vintage. This I keep for special occasions."

"Then I'm flattered." Marius looked at Caesar from under his brows. "What is it you want of me, Gaius Julius?"

"Help. In return, I will help you," said Caesar, pouring himself a cup of the superb vintage.

"And how is this mutual help to be accomplished?"

"Simple. By making you a member of the family."

"What?"

"I am offering you whichever of my two daughters you prefer," said Caesar patiently.

"A
marriage?”

"Certainly a marriage!"

"Ohhhhhh! Now that's a thought!" Marius saw the possibilities at once. He took a deeper drink of the fragrant Falernian in his cup, and said no more.

"Everyone must take notice of you if your wife is a Julia," said Caesar. "Luckily you have no sons—or daughters, for that matter. So any wife you might take at this stage of your life must be young, and come from fertile stock. It is quite understandable that you might be seeking a new wife, no one will be surprised. But—if that wife is a Julia, then she is of the highest patrician stock, and your children will have Julian blood in their veins. Indirectly, marriage to a Julia ennobles you, Gaius Marius. Everyone will be forced to regard you quite differently from the way they regard you now. For your name will be enhanced by the vast
dignitas
—the public worth and standing—of Rome's most august family. Money we have not.
Dignitas
we have. The Julius Caesars are directly descended from the goddess Venus through her grandson Iulus, son of her son Aeneas. And some of our splendor will rub off on you.''

Caesar put his cup down and sighed, but smilingly. "I do assure you, Gaius Marius, it
is
true! I am not, alas, the oldest son of my generation of the Julian house, but we do have the wax images in our cupboards, we do trace ourselves back for over a thousand years. The other name of the mother of Romulus and Remus, she who is called Rhea Silvia, was—Julia! When she cohabited with Mars and conceived her twin sons,
we
gave mortal form to Romulus, and so to Rome." His smile grew; a smile not of self-mockery, but of sheer pleasure in his illustrious forebears. "We were the kings of Alba Longa, the greatest of all Latin cities, for it was our ancestor Iulus who founded it, and when it was sacked by Rome, we were brought to Rome and elevated in Rome's hierarchy to add weight to Rome's claim to head the Latin race. And though Alba Longa was never rebuilt, to this day the Priest of the Alban Mount is a Julius."

He couldn't help himself; Marius sucked in a deep breath of awe. But said nothing, just listened.

"On a humbler level," Caesar went on, "I carry no small measure of clout myself, even though I have never had the money to stand for any higher office. My name makes me famous among the electors. I am wooed by social climbers—and the centuries which vote in the consular elections are full of social climbers, as you know—and I am highly respected by the nobility. My personal
dignitas
is above reproach, as was my father's before me," Caesar ended very seriously.

New vistas were opening up before Gaius Marius, who could not take his eyes off Caesar's handsome face. Oh yes, they were descended from Venus, all right! Every last one of them a beauty. Looks count—and throughout the history of the world, it has always been better to be blond. The children I sired of a Julia might be blond, yet have long, bumpy Roman noses too! They would look as right as they would look unusual. Which is the difference between the blond Julius Caesars from Alba Longa and the blond Pompeys from Picenum. The Julius Caesars look unmistakably Roman. Where the Pompeys look like Celts.

"You want to be consul," Caesar continued, "so much is clear to everyone. Your activities in Further Spain when you were praetor produced clients. But unfortunately you yourself are rumored to be a client, and that makes your clients the clients of your own patron."

The guest showed his teeth, which were large and white and strong looking. "It is a slander!" he said angrily. "I am nobody's client!"

"I believe you, but that is not what is generally believed," Caesar maintained, "and what is generally believed is far more important than what is actually the truth. Anyone with sense can discount the Herennius family's claim to hold you as their client—the Herennius clan is infinitely less Latin than the Marius clan of Arpinum. But the Caecilius Metelluses also claim to hold you in their patronage as their client. And the Caecilius Metelluses
are
believed. Why? For one thing, because your mother Fulcinia's family is Etruscan, and the Marius clan owns lands in Etruria. Etruria is the traditional fief of the Caecilius Metelluses."

"No Marius—or Fulcinius, for that matter!—has ever been in clientship to a Caecilius Metellus!" snapped Marius, growing angrier still. "They're far too wily to say I'm their client in any situation where they might be called upon to prove it!"

"That goes without saying," said Caesar. "However, they dislike you in a most personal manner, which lends considerable weight to their claim. The fact is remarked upon constantly. Men say it's too personal a dislike to stem merely from the way you tweaked their noses when you were a tribune of the plebs."

"Oh, it's personal!" said Marius, and laughed without humor.

"Tell me."

"I once threw Dalmaticus's little brother—the same who is undoubtedly going to be consul next year—into a pigsty at Numantia. Actually three of us did—and none of the three of us has got very far with the Romans who wield the real influence since, that's certain."

"Who were the other two?"

"Publius Rutilius Rufus and King Jugurtha of Numidia."

"Ah! The mystery is solved." Caesar put his fingertips together and pressed them against his pursed lips. "However, the accusation that you are a dishonorable client is not the worst slur attached to your name, Gaius Marius. There is another, more difficult to deal with."

"Then before we go into that slur, Gaius Julius, how would you suggest I stop the client rumor?" asked Marius.

"By marrying one of my daughters. If you are accepted as a husband for one of my daughters, it will give the world to understand that I do not find any evidence of truth in the client story. And spread the tale of the Spanish pigsty! If possible, get Publius Rutilius Rufus to confirm it. Everyone will then have a more than adequate explanation for the personal quality of Caecilius Metellus dislike," said Caesar, smiling. "It must have been funny—a Caecilius Metellus brought down to the level of—why, not even
Roman
pigs!"

"It was funny," said Marius shortly, anxious to press on. "Now what's this other slur?"

"You must surely know it for yourself, Gaius Marius."

"I can't think of a single thing, Gaius Julius."

"It is said that you're in trade."

Marius gasped, stunned. "But—but how am I in trade differently from three quarters of the rest of the Senate? I own no stock in any company which entitles me to vote in or influence company affairs! I'm purely a sleeping partner, a provider of capital! Is
that
what's said of me, that I take an active part in trade?"

"Certainly not. My dear Gaius Marius, no one elaborates! You are dismissed with a general sneer, the simple phrase 'He's in trade.' The implications are legion, yet nothing concrete is ever
said
!  So those without the wisdom to inquire further are led to believe that your family has been in trade for many generations, that you yourself run companies, farm taxes, get fat off the grain supply," said Caesar.

"I see," said Marius, tight-lipped.

"You had better see," said Caesar gently.

"I do nothing in business that any Caecilius Metellus does not! In fact, I'm probably less actively involved in business."

"I agree. But if I had been advising you all along, Gaius Marius," said Caesar, "I would have tried to persuade you to avoid any business venture that didn't involve owning land or property. Your mines are above reproach; they're good, solid real estate. But for a New Man—well, company dealings aren't at all wise. You should have stuck to only those ventures which are absolutely unimpeachable for a senator—land and property."

"You mean, my company activities are yet another indication that I am not and never can be a Roman nobleman,'' said Gaius Marius bitterly.

"Precisely!"

Marius squared his shoulders; to dwell upon the hurt of a manifest injustice was a waste of precious time and energy. Instead, he turned his thoughts to the alluring prospect of marrying a girl of the Julian house. "Do you really believe my marrying one of your daughters will improve my public image so much, Gaius Julius?"

"It can't not."

"A Julia... Why then shouldn't I apply to marry a Sulpicia—or a Claudia—or an Aemilia—or a Cornelia? A girl from any of the old patrician houses would surely do as well—no, even better! I'd have the ancient name plus a great deal more current political clout," said Marius.

Smiling, Caesar shook his head. "I refuse to be provoked, Gaius Marius, so don't bother trying. Yes, you could marry a Cornelia or an Aemilia. But everyone would know you simply bought the girl. The advantage of marrying a Julia lies in the fact that the Julius Caesars have
never
sold their daughters to rich nobodies desirous of carving public careers for themselves and a noble heritage for their progeny. The very fact that you have been
permitted
to marry a Julia will inform the world that you are deserving of every political honor, and that the slurs upon your name are pure malice. The Julius Caesars have always been above selling their daughters. It is a universally known fact." Caesar paused to think for a moment, then added, "Mind you, I shall strongly advise both my sons to make capital out of our quirkiness and marry
their
daughters to rich nobodies as fast as they can!"

Marius leaned back with a second full cup.  “Gaius Julius, just why are you offering me this chance?" he asked.

Caesar frowned. "There are two reasons," he said. "The first is perhaps not very sensible, but out of it came my decision to reverse our traditional family reluctance to make financial capital out of our children. You see, when I noticed you yesterday at the inauguration, I was visited with a premonition. Now I am not a man who is premonition-prone, you must understand. But I swear by all the gods, Gaius Marius, that suddenly I
knew
that I was looking at a man who would—given the chance!—carry Rome on his back out of terrible danger. And I knew too that if you were not given the chance, Rome would cease to be." He shrugged, shivered. "Well, there's a strong streak of superstition in every Roman, and in the really old families, it's very highly developed. I believed what I felt. After the passage of a day, I still believe what I felt. And wouldn't it be lovely, I thought to myself, if I, a humble backbencher senator, gave Rome the man Rome is going to need so desperately?"

"I feel it too," said Marius abruptly. "I have ever since I went to Numantia."

"So there you are! Two of us."

"And your second reason, Gaius Julius?"