TW11 The Cleopatra Crisis NEW (2 page)

"If that isn't damning evidence, what is?" asked Casca sourly. "I heard he so incensed the Senate with his obstinacy that the house guard went so far as to unsheath their swords. They would have killed him, too, if not for Cicero's intercession."

“Not that Cicero was ever fond of Caesar," Cassius said dryly. "He simply thought that killing someone in the Senate was bad form."

Brutus chuckled. Cicero might have phrased it exactly that way himself.

"You may laugh, Brutus, but it would have saved everyone a lot of trouble if they'd done away with him right there and then," said Casca. "I tell you, his luck is simply unbelievable."

"What about when the House voted to suspend him?" Labeo asked. His white tunic was spattered with food stains. "The people clamored for his reinstatement and the Senate buckled under, restoring him to office. Yet no sooner had they done so than his name was linked to the conspiracy of Catiline."

"The man he had so ardently defended," interjected Casca sarcastically.

"Yet he not only managed to wriggle out of that one, but he also turned the tables on his accusers and had them sent to jail. Can you believe it?"

"He always was audacious," Cassius agreed. "It was not long after that, the Senate decided to send him off to Spain. Doubtless in the hope that some obliging savage would stick a spear between his ribs. Naturally, Caesar immediately saw this as yet another opportunity to distinguish himself. However, he was worried that his creditors would seek his impeachment, so they could keep him in Rome until he could pay off his debts. Which, of course, he could not do. So what was his solution? He rushed off to Spain at once, without waiting for his appointment to be officially confirmed or even for the House to vote him the necessary funds. After all, why should such small matters of legality bother the great Caesar"

"But you must admit that he did bring things back under control in Spain by the following summer," Brutus pointed out. He held out his cup to be refilled.

"True, but then he returned to Rome without waiting to be properly relieved and demanded,
demanded
, to be awarded a triumph," Cassius replied scornfully. "Not only that, but at the same time, he announced his intention to run for a consulship. Now everyone knows that a commander who petitions to enter the city in triumph is supposed to wait outside the city until he receives his answer, whereas a man who wants to run for consul must be present in Rome to file his candidacy. Clearly Caesar could not legally do both, but did that dissuade him? Not Caesar! He tried to get himself exempted from the election regulations, so that his friends could file his candidacy for him. Talk about audacity! The resulting protests in the Senate forced him to either give up running for consul or forgo the triumph. He decided that being elected consul was more important, so he gave up the triumph, entered Rome, filed his candidacy, and, running true to form, proceeded to bribe the voters."

"The way I heard it, his enemies bribed the voters themselves to cast their lot for Bibulus," Brutus said.

"With the result that both men were elected," Casca said with disgust. "The whole thing was a farce!"

"And after his election, Caesar embarked upon still
more
intrigues," said Cassius. "He somehow managed to work his charm on Pompey, who was still angry with the Senate for the difficulties they had given him in pursuing the war against Mithridates. Caesar managed to patch things up between him and his old fellow coconspirator, Crassus, who was still smarting over being eclipsed by Pompey in their defeat of that rebel gladiator, what was his name? The surly-looking bastard with the dimple in his chin."

"Spartacus," said Brutus, popping a stuffed dormouse in his mouth.

"Yes, that's the one. Caesar brought Pompey and Crassus together and arranged for them to agree upon a pact. All three of them swore to oppose any actions of the Senate that any one of them might disapprove of."

"If you ask me,
that
was the turning point for him," Ligarius pronounced. "Crassus had the money. Pompey had influence and his soldiers. After that, Caesar began to make his presence in the Senate felt with a vengeance."

"Wasn't his first act a rule that all daily proceedings of the Senate and the courts be published, insuring that the people would know about everything he said and did?" asked Cimber. He turned. "You! Yes,
you
, the ugly one! More wine!"

"Yes, and he quickly turned that to his advantage," Cassius said. "When he proposed some agrarian reform and his old opponent, Bibulus, took a stand against it, Caesar actually had him driven from the Forum at sword point! The idea, one supposes, was to prove to all those who would read of the proceedings that the great Caesar would stop at nothing to champion any cause that would benefit the Roman people . "

"And at the same time, demonstrate to the members of the Senate what would happen to anyone who dared oppose him," added Ligarius. He shifted his position on the couch and broke wind prodigiously.

"By the gods, Ligarius!" said Cimber with a grimace. "You could empty out the Circus with that one!
Phew
!"

"When was it that he married Calpurnia?" Labeo asked.

"About the same time Bibulus decided it was more prudent for him to retire from public life," said Cassius. He ate an olive and spat the pit out on the floor. A slave immediately picked it up. "Marrying Calpurnia gave him access to her father's money. At the same time, he broke his daughter's engagement so she could many Pompey, thereby cementing his relationship with the most famous general in Rome."

"You tell me that was not ambition?" Casca asked angrily. "Nor was that enough for him! He then decided that being appointed provincial governor of Gaul would present him with the most opportunities to secure wealth and triumphs, so he used his influence to make sure that he got it.”

"Well, that's not quite true," said Brutus. “The Senate was only too glad to give it to him. No sooner had he left his office than they began an inquiry into his conduct during his term as consul. The moment Caesar left the city, his quaestor was charged with malfeasance, laying the groundwork for charges against Caesar himself. But nothing ever came of it."

"Only because Caesar had contributed generously to all of the chief magistrates and supported candidates for office who would look after his interests," Cassius said. "He has always been a corrupt intriguer. I cannot understand why you defend him, Brutus."

"It is not my intention to defend Caesar," Brutus replied. "Nor does he require my defense. Can you deny the good he did for Rome? In Gaul, he expanded his army with legions raised at his own expense. He even went so far as to recruit and train an entire legion from the province. In the nine years of his military governorship, he subjugated all of Gaul to Roman authority. His legions took over eight hundred towns, conquered three hundred states, and killed over a million enemy barbarians, taking as many prisoner. If you are going to point out the man's faults, then do not neglect his virtues."

"Virtues!
What
virtues?" Casca asked, raising his voice. "You speak as if Caesar gained nothing for himself! Gaul has made him rich! And he was lavish in his gifts of slaves to anyone who could be of benefit to him. Any man who looks at Caesar's history with a clear eye can come away with but one conclusion! All Caesar ever wanted was
power
! His ambition simply knows no bounds. I tell you, he intends to seize Rome itself! He plans to depose Pompey and make himself dictator!"

"I have seen no proof of that," said Brutus.

"No? Then why did he refuse to be relieved?" countered Casca. "The Gallic Wars are over! The province has been pacified. Why does he refuse to disband his legions? I'll tell you why! Because he still faces charges of malfeasance during his term as consul! Because he still has debts that he does not wish to pay! Because he had made wild promises that he knows he cannot keep! And most of all, because he has acquired a taste for power and he does not wish to give it up. Even his old friend, Pompey, considers him a threat!"

"Perhaps," Brutus replied, "but there are those, present company included, who have gone to great lengths to make a breach between Pompey and Caesar. And frankly, while Pompey may be a great general, as a statesman he leaves much to be desired."

“Your feelings about Pompey are well known," said Casca, dismissing his comment with a wave of his hand. "He did execute your father, after all. Or was it
really
your father that he killed? Perhaps there is another reason for your reluctance to condemn Caesar. It is well known that your mother was once his mistress."

Brutus gave Casca a long, hard look. "Caesar is
not my
father," he said stiffly.

“Then why does he bear so much affection for you?" Casca asked.

“Was I invited here to be called a bastard and insulted?" Brutus shouted, throwing his wine cup to the floor. The slaves hastened to mop up the spill. Brutus started to rise, but Cassius took him by the arm.

”No, no, Brutus, stay, please! It was merely the wine speaking, wasn't it, Casca? It is just that we are all inflamed with passion and concern about our future. We meant to share our feelings with you. We had believed that you were with us, but it seems that you cannot forget your father's fate at Pompey's hands and therefore lean toward Caesar. Well, that is regrettable, but we love you none the less for it."

“You judge me wrongly," Brutus said. "I despise Pompey, that is true, but neither do I favor Caesar. Politics must be dispassionate. A lesson some of us have yet to learn," he added with a pointed glance at Casca. "I may not share the vehemence of your feelings against Caesar but I do not believe that he is the man to govern Rome."

"Then you are with us'?" asked Cassius.

“If it must come to a choice between Pompey and Caesar, then for the good of the republic, I must put aside my own feelings and stand for Pompey,"

Brutus replied, "Caesar has accomplished great things, but I believe that Cicero is right. His chief concern is for himself, not Rome."

"Cicero is wise," said Ligarius, nodding. He belched loudly.

"The gods have spoken," Cimber said, raising his cup and draining it.

"Then why have you not invited him tonight, so that you could partake of his wisdom?" Brutus asked.

"Cicero is wise, but he is also old," Cassius replied. "It is for young men such as ourselves to plan the future."

"To plan conspiracies, you mean," said Brutus.

"Against whom do we conspire?" asked Cassius, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Against Caesar? He is not the power in Rome, thank the gods, yet he is a threat not to be taken lightly. All here are loyal citizens of the republic, merely expressing their concerns about the future. Is that conspiracy'?"

"Perhaps not," said Brutus. "Yet it has the flavor of one."

"Come now, Brutus," Cassius said, putting his arm around him, "you are among friends. Set aside your worries. There are many flavors here to tempt you. Such as this excellent Greek wine, for instance."

Cassius gestured for a slave to pour Brutus another cup. "Let us have no more talk about conspiracies." He winked. "At least, not for tonight."

Brutus drained the cup and held it out to be refilled. The wine was filling him with pleasant warmth. A warmth that seemed to banish the chill of an uncertain future. Yes, indeed, he thought, it was a good night to get drunk.

Capt. Jonathan Travers of the United States Temporal Army Observer Corps, alias "Lucius Septimus," personal secretary and aide to the commander of the legions, stood outside his tent and gazed out at the troops camped all around him. The legionaries were relaxing around their cook fires, but there was a tension of anticipation in the air. Each of them knew that in the morning, they would take part in a historic event that had no precedent.

The camp had been situated on the slope of a hill. The entrance gates were on the downslope and the rear gates were at the crest. The legions had camped out in the open, away from wooded areas that could provide an enemy with an opportunity to make a sudden attack from concealment. The earthworks had been thrown up around the camp, the soil taken from a twelve-foot-wide ditch dug around them to a depth of nine feet. The earthen wall itself was ten feet high and six feet wide, enough room for defenders to stand on top and hurl their javelins in the event of an assault. Timber and brush had been used to reinforce the earthworks and the ramparts. When occasion demanded it, wooden towers could be placed atop the wall, but this was only a temporary camp and there was no need for them.

The camp was laid out in a large rectangle, divided into three roughly equal parts. These divisions were marked off by two broad "streets" that ran the width of the entire camp. The
praetorium
was the headquarters section.

where Travers had his tent. It occupied a wide space in the exact center.

Directly behind the
praetorium
and separated from it by the second of the two main streets, the
via
quintana
, was the
quaestorium
.

It was a similar space situated at the middle of the camp, where hostages, prisoners, booty, forage, and supplies were kept. The
praetentura
was the front section of the camp, separated from headquarters section by the first of the two main streets, the
via
principalis. One fourth of the cohorts were encamped there, in tents facing the wall, on either side of the
via
praetoria
, which was the street leading from the center of the camp to the front gates. Half the cavalry was camped there too, as well as the archers and the slingers, situated so that they could quickly move out the front gate to form an advance guard in the event of an attack.

The remainder of the cohorts and the cavalry were disposed on either side of the
praetorium
and in the rear of the camp. Running around the entire perimeter, just inside the wall, was a broad street one hundred and twenty feet wide, meant to allow movement for the troops defending the walls and to prevent hostile missiles coming over the wall from reaching the tents. There were smaller streets running lengthwise and widthwise throughout the camp, separating each cohort from the one beside it. Everything was laid out with practiced, logical precision. There was a specific allotment of space for the tents, the pack animals, the servants, and the stacking of weapons. The plan never varied from this basic layout. The soldiers were so well drilled at setting up the camp that they had begun digging the fortifications at noon and the entire task had been completed shortly before sunset. Each man had worked for one hour before he was relieved, while other troops formed a protective front to cover the work while details of cavalry scouted the area to provide security. Everything was done with an efficiency and a precision that an elite 27th-century military unit would have envied, but then again, these were no ordinary troops. The Romans had fielded some of the finest armies in all of history and these were the finest troops ever fielded by Rome, led by the greatest general the republic had ever seen—Gaius Julius Caesar.