The Horse Changer (42 page)

‘Then I have nothing of value to offer you. I apologise for begging this interview.’

‘I did not say you bring nothing to me, Nero. On the contrary, you inspire me with an idea.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I think it is time Caesar and I began formal negotiations with Pompey. Enough of these backchannel communications! How would you like to arrange a meeting between Pompey and Caesar and me?’

Nero’s mouth moved, but he could not utter any words. Finally, clearing his throat, the old fellow remarked, ‘I should like nothing better.’

‘That’s the spirit!’

I took Antony at his word that morning. I know Nero did as well. Some years later, however, Antony confessed to me that the news Nero had brought to his court that morning had hit him like a knife in the back. The ‘little twit’ owed his life to Antony, and this was how he showed his gratitude.

Without really considering the matter, Antony knew that the best way to thwart Caesar’s betrayal was to force open negotiations with Pompey. Rome was close to starving, and though Sextus Pompey was the cause of it everyone blamed Caesar for his failure to break the blockade. If Antony sent word to Rome that he and Caesar were in talks with Pompey, the city would rejoice. It would buy time for Caesar, but if the mob was subsequently disappointed Antony knew Caesar could not survive to the end of summer. Nor would Caesar have an answer to Antony’s gambit. Antony would join him and together they would proceed to negotiate an end to Pompey’s blockade.

All of this Antony decided at the very moment he discovered Caesar’s betrayal. Reflection, so dear to so many leaders, only made Antony morose and bitter. Had Antony sought the advice of his closest advisers he almost certainly would have ended up at war with Caesar. This would have happened because it seemed inevitable and because, given enough time to think about it, Antony’s anger with Caesar would have spurred him to act. I expect what Antony enjoyed most about his decision was the fact that Caesar would be forced to embrace Antony’s lie.

What Caesar’s chief adviser, Maecenas, made of all this I cannot say with any certainty. I never spoke with him about these matters, though in later years we were good friends. I expect, after long consideration, Maecenas recommended that Caesar should play along with Antony. Antony might only be about the business of surviving. If that was all it was, so be it. If they did not destroy him at once, Antony, being Antony, would give them opportunity on some future occasion.

At the same time that Antony announced to the public that negotiations were underway with Pompey, he sent word to his commander in Tarsus, Publius Ventidius Bassus. His message declared that he was unavoidably delayed. Ventidius should not advance into Syria, but ought to continue holding the mountain passes between Syria and Asia Minor.

Antony’s next move was to wait patiently for Caesar’s formal recognition of Nero’s appointment as their ambassador to Sicily. This took several letters between the two Triumvirs and cost nearly a month. Once Caesar agreed to it, Nero departed for Italy, where he set about arranging a satisfactory place for a meeting.

The night after Nero departed for Italy I returned to my apartment within the palace at my usual hour and discovered Livia waiting for me. And the night after that she was there again. On the third night, following our lovemaking, I proposed marriage. She kissed my neck, whispering in the dark that she would like nothing more. ‘We must wait until my husband has finished his work in Italy, Dellius. Then I will ask his permission.’

‘He will not give it,’ I answered.

‘I think he will. If I ask it of him. I think it will break his heart, but he will not force me to st`ay with him if he knows I love you.’

‘And do you really love me?’

‘I do.’

‘Do you promise to ask him?’

‘I do.’

‘And you will marry me as soon afterwards as possible?’

‘I will.’

So our nights passed with whispered promises and kisses of pure fire.

Antony’s entourage set sail for Brindisi in mid-June. His wife, Octavia, remained in Athens, as did Livia. It took us the better part of a month to make the journey, but this was only because of security concerns. Antony required intelligence on the location of Caesar’s legions in Italy, and he intended to bring in at least a legion of his own men. When all was set, he advanced.

The site of Misenium satisfied both sides, or perhaps I should say all three parties. Situated on the northern horn of the Bay of Naples, the land reaches out toward two rather significant islands, Procida and Ischia. These islands allowed Pompey to bring a small fleet safely to anchor.

The Triumvirs had two legions camped opposite Capri, with elements of these extending all the way to the Italian shore opposite Sicily. One of these legions answered to Antony, the other to Caesar. The fear was that Pompey’s legions might attempt to cross to Italy and march north against Misenium; alternatively, he might send a fleet of ships to attack Misenium.

Sextus Pompey’s essential condition for his personal security was that he always remained on water. Caesar and Antony, in contrast, insisted they never leave land. Nero took credit for the ingenious solution, but it was certainly the brainstorm of a cleverer fellow than he, probably one of the Greek slaves serving him. Two floating islands were constructed off shore. One linked back to the harbour and dry land with a floating pier; the other allowed Pompey’s flagship to dock against it. Between these two islands was a channel some ninety feet in width. At this distance the participants might shout to one another quite easily.

Of course no artillery pieces were allowed within range of these wooden islands; Pompey’s flagship was stripped of catapults and each side submitted to a daily search of their party members for any weapon that might launch some kind of aerial attack: slings, bows, or even hand-held ballistae. Pompey, Antony and Caesar were all permitted guards who carried shields and swords. Because of these provisions, I remained close to Antony during the negotiations.

On the evening following the first exchange of offers Antony was justifiably frustrated. Caesar had spent the day refusing any compromise. He insisted on crucifying every slave who had left Italy to join Pompey in Sicily; these men had joined Pompey’s army either as marines or legionaries and Pompey could not afford to betray them without risking a general uprising.

Caesar created even more discouragement when he refused to agree to return property to anyone who had lost it through the proscriptions. Antony knew Caesar was simply posturing. In his secret negotiations, Caesar had been prepared to accept all of Pompey’s conditions. Of course Antony was not especially surprised Caesar refused to cooperate; he rather expected it. What frustrated him was his inability to find a way to stop the posturing. Put simply, Caesar did not seem to understand the risk of failure.

If the negotiations broke down, Rome would remain hostage to Pompey’s naval blockade and Syria would languish in Parthian rule indefinitely. As for the chances of the Triumvirs surviving for another year, Antony gave it low odds. What Caesar expected to gain by sabotaging the talks, Antony simply could not fathom.

On the second day, Caesar continued quarrelling without changing any position. He pretended not to understand Pompey’s demands. When Pompey promised him riots in Rome if his blockade continued, Caesar answered that the Roman people were both resilient and resourceful.

What that meant no one knew. Pompey was clearly as frustrated as Antony. At one point he complained that the Triumvirs had asked for a meeting but were now unwilling to grant any of Pompey’s conditions for a treaty. What was the point of going to all this trouble if the Triumvirs were not prepared to offer any sort of compromise? Caesar admitted he thought the negotiations were a bad idea. ‘I went along with Antony’s plan in the hope that you might see there was no hope but unconditional surrender.’

That finished the day with an angry verbal assault from Pompey. It also left most people convinced nothing was going to happen with these talks. Having very little hope of a solution, Antony nevertheless asked for a meeting with Caesar before their dinner hour, which they intended to have in separate houses. The meeting required some security arrangements, but Caesar at least cooperated in these matters.

When they finally came together, Antony bluntly accused Caesar of negotiating with Pompey behind his back. Caesar denied it quite credibly, but of course he had known the charge was coming sooner or later. ‘Play innocent if you like,’ Antony said angrily, ‘but we both know Rome is starving, and things will only get worse from here.’

‘Rome is not starving, Antony. Why do you insist on being so dramatic?’

‘Give Pompey’s runaway slaves their freedom. We can settle nothing else with him if we do not agree to that. He is not going to turn them over for execution because he can’t. They will destroy him if he even considers it. And mind you, if he does not end his blockade of Rome this summer, you will see riots that will make your troubles on the Camp of Mars last winter seem like a stroll in a garden!’

‘If we permit slaves to hope,’ Caesar answered, ‘we shall soon have another Spartacus to deal with.’

‘You don’t seem to understand the situation in the least. Someone else will deal with Rome’s new Spartacus. You and I will be dead.’

‘My father never negotiated with Pompey Magnus, Antony. I don’t see why I should do so with the man’s son.’

‘Are you mad? Caesar spent most of his life negotiating with the old bore!’

‘But in the end it came down to a fight.’

‘In the end. After thirty years! You cannot make up history because you had rather pout than do something of real value.’

‘Are you finished?’ Caesar asked.

At his evening meal Antony listened to two generals on his staff as they discussed the many negotiations between the divine Julius Caesar and Pompey Magnus. It was not brilliant conversation but somewhat interesting. Suddenly Antony broke in angrily. ‘He really is a
stupid
boy! The little twit. Stupid and stubborn and dangerous. Oh, I know he doesn’t look dangerous. He looks like a flower that’s about to wilt. But he is. He is! He wants to drive me off in a fury so he can give Pompey all he demands of us and then tell Rome he made the treaty at Misenium.’