The Grass Crown

by Colleen McCullough

  "Oh, Lucius Licinius, you squashed Philippus beautifully!" said Scaurus happily, gulping at his wine thirstily.

  "Memorable," said Antonius Orator.

  "And I thank you too, Lucius Licinius," said Drusus, smiling.

  Crassus Orator accepted all this approval with becoming modesty, only saying, "Yes, well, he asked for it, the fool!"

  Since Rome was still very hot, everyone had doffed his toga on entering Marius's house and repaired to the cool fresh air of the garden, there to loll comfortably.

  "What I want to know," said Marius, seated on the coping of his peristyle pool, "is what Philippus is up to."

  "So do I," said Scaurus.

  "Why should he be up to anything?" asked Pompeius Rufus. "He's just a bad-mannered lout. He's never been any different."

  "No, there's something working in the back of his grubby mind," said Marius. "For a moment there today, I thought I'd grasped it. But then it went, and I can't seem to remember."

  Scaurus sighed. "Well, Gaius Marius, of one thing you can be sure—we'll find out! Probably at the next meeting."

  "It should be an interesting one," said Crassus Orator, and winced, massaged his left shoulder. "Oh, why am I so tired and full of aches and pains these days? I didn't give a very long speech today. But I was angry, that's true."

  The night was to prove that Crassus Orator paid a higher price for his speech than he would have cared to, had he been asked. His wife, the younger Mucia of Scaevola the Augur, woke up at dawn quite chilled; cuddling against her husband for warmth, she discovered him horribly cold. He had died some hours earlier, at the height of his career and the zenith of his fame.

  To Drusus, Marius, Scaurus, Scaevola, and those of similar ideas, his death was a catastrophe; to Philippus and Caepio, it was a judgment in their favor. With renewed enthusiasm Philippus and Caepio moved among the pedarii of the Senate, talking, persuading, coaxing. And felt themselves in excellent case when the Senate reconvened after the ludi Romani were over.

  "I intend to ask again for a division upon the question as to whether the laws of Marcus Livius Drusus should be kept on the tablets," said Philippus in a cooing voice, apparently determined to conduct himself like a model consul. "I do understand how tired of all this opposition to the laws of Marcus Livius many of you must be, and I am aware that most of you are convinced that the laws of Marcus Livius are absolutely valid. Now I am not arguing that the religious auspices were not observed, that the Comitial proceedings were not conducted legally, and that the consent of the Senate was not obtained before any move in the Comitia was made."

  He stepped to the very front of the dais, and spoke more loudly. "However, there is a religious impediment in existence! A religious impediment so large and so foreboding that we in all conscience cannot possibly ignore it. Why the gods should play such tricks is beyond me, I am no expert. But the fact remains that while the auguries and the omens were interpreted favorably before each and every meeting of the Plebeian Assembly held by Marcus Livius, up and down Italy were godly signs indicating a huge degree of divine wrath. I am an augur myself, Conscript Fathers. And it is very clear to me that sacrilege has been done."

  One hand went out; Philippus's clerk filled it with a scroll Philippus peeled apart.

  "On the fourteenth day before the Kalends of January— the day Marcus Livius promulgated his law regulating the courts and his law enlarging the Senate in the Senate—the public slaves went to the temple of Saturn to ready it for the next day's festivities—the next day, if you remember, was the opening day of the Saturnalia. And they found the woolen bonds swaddling the wooden statue of Saturnus soaked with oil, a puddle of oil upon the floor, and the interior of the statue dry. The freshness of this leakage was not in doubt. Saturnus, everyone agreed at the time, was displeased about something!

  "On the day that Marcus Livius Drusus passed his laws on the courts and the size of the Senate in the Plebeian Assembly, the slave-priest of Nemi was murdered by another slave, who, according to the custom there, became the new slave-priest. But the level of the water in the sacred lake at Nemi suddenly fell by a whole hand, and the new slave-priest died without doing battle, a terrible omen.

  "On the day that Marcus Livius Drusus promulgated in the Senate his law disposing of the ager publicus, there was a bloody rain on the ager Campanus, and a huge plague of frogs on the ager publicus of Etruria.

  "On the day that the lex Livia agraria was passed in the Plebeian Assembly, the priests of Lanuvium discovered that the sacred shields had been gnawed by mice—a most dreadful portent, and immediately lodged with our College of Pontifices in Rome.

  "On the day that the tribune of the plebs Saufeius's Board of Five was convened to commence parceling out the ager publicus of Italy and Sicily, the temple of Pietas on the Campus Martius near the Flaminian Circus was struck by lightning, and badly damaged.

  "On the day the grain law of Marcus Livius Drusus was passed in the Plebeian Assembly, the statue of Diva Angerona was discovered to have sweated profusely. The bandage sealing her mouth had slipped down around her neck, and there were those who swore that they had heard her whispering the secret name of Rome, delighted that she could speak at last.

  "On the Kalends of September, the day upon which Marcus Livius Drusus introduced in this House his proposed bill to give the Italians our precious citizenship, a frightful earthquake utterly destroyed the town of Mutina in Italian Gaul. This portent the seer Publius Cornelius Culleolus has interpreted as meaning that the whole of Italian Gaul is angry that it too is not to be rewarded with the citizenship. An indication, Conscript Fathers, that if we award the citizenship to peninsular Italy, all our other possessions will want it too.

  "On the day that he publicly chastised me in this House, the eminent consular Lucius Licinius Crassus Orator died mysteriously in his bed, and was ice-cold in the morning.

  "There are many more portents, Conscript Fathers," said Philippus, hardly needing to raise his voice, so hushed was the chamber. "I have cited only those which actually occurred on the selfsame day as one of Marcus Livius Drusus's laws was either promulgated or ratified, but I give you now a further list.

  "A bolt of lightning damaged the statue of Jupiter Latiaris on the Alban Mount, a frightful omen. On the last day of the ludi Romani just concluded, a bloody rain fell on the temple of Quirinus, but nowhere else—and how great a sign of godly wrath is that! The sacred spears of Mars moved. An earth tremor felled the temple of Mars in Capua. The sacred spring of Hercules in Ancona dried up for the first time on record, and there is no drought. A huge gulch of fire opened up in one of the streets of Puteoli. Every gate in the walls of the city of Pompeii suddenly and mysteriously swung shut.

  "And there are more, Conscript Fathers, many more! I will have the full list posted on the rostra, so that everyone in Rome can see for himself how adamantly the gods condemn these laws of Marcus Livius Drusus. For they do! Look at the gods chiefly concerned! Pietas, who rules our loyalty and our family duties. Quirinus, the god of the assembly of Roman men. Jupiter Latiaris, who is the Latin Jupiter. Hercules, the protector of Roman military might and the patron of the Roman general. Mars, who is the god of war. Vulcan, who controls the lakes of fire beneath all Italy. Diva Angerona, who knows the secret name of Rome—which, if spoken, can ruin Rome. Saturnus, who keeps the wealth of Rome intact, and rules our stay in time.''

  "On the other hand," said Scaurus Princeps Senatus slowly, "all these omens could well be indicating how terrible matters will be for Italy and Rome if the laws of Marcus Livius Drusus are not kept on the tablets."

  Philippus ignored him, handing the scroll back to his clerk. "Post it on the rostra at once," he said. He stepped down from the curule dais and stood in front of the tribunician bench. "I will see a division of this House. All those in favor of declaring the laws of Marcus Livius Drusus invalid will stand on my right. All those in favor of keeping the laws of Marcus Livius Drusus on the tablets will stand to my left. Now, if y
ou please."

  “I will take the lead, Lucius Marcius,'' said Ahenobarbus Pontifex Maximus, getting to his feet. "As Pontifex Maximus, you have convinced me beyond a shadow of a doubt.''

  A silent House filed down from its tiers, many of the faces as white as the togas beneath; all but a handful of the senators stood on Philippus's right, their eyes fixed upon the flagging.

  "The division is conclusive," said Sextus Caesar. "This House has moved that the laws of the tribunate of Marcus Livius Drusus be removed from our archives and the tablets destroyed. I shall convoke the Assembly of the Whole People to that effect three days from now."

  Drusus was the last man to leave the floor. When he did walk the short distance from Philippus's left to his end of the tribunician bench, he kept his head up.

  "You are, of course, entitled to interpose your veto, Marcus Livius," said Philippus graciously as Drusus crossed in front of him; the senators all stopped in their tracks.

  Drusus, his face quite blank, looked at Philippus blindly. "Oh, no, Lucius Marcius, I couldn't do that," he said gently. "I am not a demagogue! My duties as a tribune of the plebs are always undertaken with the consent of this assemblage, and my peers in this assemblage have declared my laws null and void. As is my duty, I will abide by the decision of my peers."

  "Which rather left," said Scaurus proudly to Scaevola as the meeting broke up, "our dear Marcus Livius wearing the laurels!"

  "It did indeed," said Scaevola, and twitched his shoulders unhappily. "What do you really think about those omens?"

  "Two things. The first, that in no other year has anyone ever bothered to collect natural disasters so assiduously. The second, that to me, if the omens suggest anything, it is that war with Italy will ensue if Marcus Livius's laws are not upheld."

  Scaevola had of course voted with Scaurus and the other supporters of Drusus; he could not have done otherwise and continued to keep his friends. But he was clearly troubled, and said now, demurring, "Yes, but..."

  "Quintus Mucius, you believe! said Marius incredulously.

  "No, no, I'm not saying that!" said Scaevola crossly, his common sense warring with his Roman superstition. "Yet—how does one account for Diva Angerona's sweating, and losing her gag?" His eyes filled with tears. "Or for the death of my first cousin Crassus, my dearest friend?''

  "Quintus Mucius," said Drusus, who had caught up to the group, "I think Marcus Aemilius is right. All those omens are a sign of what will happen if my laws are invalidated."

  "Quintus Mucius, you are a member of the College of Pontifices," said Scaurus Princeps Senatus patiently. "It all began with the only believable phenomenon, the loss of the oil out of the wooden statue of Saturnus. But we have been expecting that to happen for years! That's why the statue is swaddled in the first place! As for Diva Angerona—what easier than to sneak into her little shrine, yank down her bandage and give her a bath of some sticky substance guaranteed to leave drops behind? We are all aware that lightning tends to strike the highest point in an area, and you well know that the temple of Pietas was small in every way but one—height! As for earthquakes and gulches of fire and bloody rains and plagues of frogs— tchah! I refuse even to discuss them! Lucius Licinius died in his bed. We should all hope for such a pleasant end!"

  "Yes, but—" Scaevola protested, still unconvinced.

  "Look at him!" Scaurus exclaimed to Marius and Drusus. "If he can be gulled, how can we possibly blame the rest of those superstition-riddled idiots?"

  "Do you not believe in the gods, Marcus Aemilius?" asked Scaevola, awestruck.

  "Yes, yes, yes, of course I do! What I do not believe in, Quintus Mucius, are the machinations and interpretations of men who claim to be acting in the name of the gods! I never met an omen or a prophecy that couldn't be interpreted in two diametrically opposite ways! And what makes Philippus such an expert? The fact that he's an augur? He wouldn't know a genuine omen if he tripped over it and it sat up and bit him on his pulverized nose! As for old Publius Cornelius Culleolus—he's just what his name says he is, Walnut Balls! I would be prepared to take a very large bet with you, Quintus Mucius, that if some clever fellow had chased up the natural disasters and so-called unnatural events which occurred during the year of Saturninus's second tribunate, he could have produced a list equally imposing! Grow up! Bring some of that healthy courtroom skepticism of yours into this situation, I beg of you!"

  "I must say Philippus surprised me," said Marius gloomily. "I bought him once. But I never realized how crafty the cunnus was."

  "Oh, he's clever," said Scaevola eagerly, anxious to divert Scaurus from his shortcomings. "I imagine he thought of this some time ago." He laughed. "One thing we can be sure of—this wasn't Caepio's brilliant idea!"

  "How do you feel, Marcus Livius?" asked Marius.

  "How do I feel?" Drusus looked pinched about the mouth, and very tired. "Oh, Gaius Marius, I don't honestly know anymore. It was a clever piece of work, that's all."

  "You should have interposed your veto," said Marius.

  "In my shoes, you would have—and I wouldn't have blamed you," said Drusus. "But I cannot retract what I said at the beginning of my tribunate, please try to understand that. I promised then that I would heed the wishes of my peers in the Senate."

  "There won't be any enfranchisement now," said Scaurus.

  "Whyever not?" asked Drusus, genuinely astonished.

  "Marcus Livius, they've canceled all your laws! Or they will!"

  "What difference can that make? Enfranchisement hasn't gone to the Plebeian Assembly yet, I merely put it before the House. Which has voted not to recommend it to the Plebs. But I never promised the House that I wouldn't take a law to the Plebs if they didn't recommend it—I said I would seek their mandate first. I have acquitted myself of that promise. But I cannot stop now, just because the Senate said no. The process is not complete. The Plebs must say no first. But I shall try to persuade the Plebs to say yes," said Drusus, smiling.

  "Ye gods, Marcus Livius, you deserve to win!" said Scaurus.

  "So I think too," Drusus said. "Would you excuse me? I have some letters to write to my Italian friends. I must persuade them not to go to war, that the battle isn't over yet."

  "Nonsense, it isn't possible!" exclaimed Scaevola. "If the Italians really do mean war should we refuse them the franchise—and I believe you there, Marcus Livius, I really do, otherwise I would have put myself on Philippus's right— it will take years for them to prepare for war!"

  "And there, Quintus Mucius, you're wrong. They are already on a war footing. Better prepared for war than Rome is."

  5

  That the Marsi at any rate were prepared for war was brought home to the Senate and the People of Rome some days later, when word came that Quintus Poppaedius Silo was leading two full-strength legions of Marsi, properly equipped and armed, down the Via Valeria toward Rome. A startled Princeps Senatus summoned the Senate to an urgent meeting, only to find that a mere handful of senators were willing to attend; neither Philippus nor Caepio was there, nor had sent any message as to why. Drusus had also refused to come, but had sent word that he felt he could not be present while his peers contended with a threat of war from such an old personal friend as Quintus Poppaedius Silo.

  "The rabbits!" said Scaurus to Marius, eyeing the empty tiers. "They've bolted into their burrows, apparently on the theory that if they stay there, the nasty men will go away."

  But Scaurus didn't think the Marsi meant war, and managed to convince his meager audience that the best way to deal with this "invasion" was by peaceful methods.

  "Gnaeus Domitius," he said to Ahenobarbus Pontifex Maximus, "you are an eminent consular, you have been censor, and you are Pontifex Maximus. Would you be willing to travel out to meet this army like a Popillius Laenas, accompanied only by lictors? You were the iudex in the special court of the lex Licinia Mucia set up in Alba Fucentia a few years ago, so the Marsi know you—and I hear they respect you greatly, thanks to your clemency. Find
out why this army is on the march, and what the Marsi want of us."

  "Very well, Princeps Senatus, I will be another Popillius Laenas," said Ahenobarbus, "provided that you endow me with a full proconsular imperium. Otherwise I won't be able to say or do what I might think necessary at the moment. I also want the axes put into my fasces, please."

  "You shall have both," said Scaurus.

  "The Marsi will reach the outskirts of Rome tomorrow," said Marius, grimacing.'' You realize, I hope, what day it is? "

  "I do," said Ahenobarbus. "The day before the Nones of October—the anniversary of the battle of Arausio, at which the Marsi lost a whole legion."

  "They planned it this way," said Sextus Caesar, quite enjoying this meeting, despite its gloomy atmosphere; no Philippus, no Caepio, and only those senators present whom he privately deemed patriots.

  "That's why, Conscript Fathers, I do not think they mean this as an act of war," said Scaurus.

  "Clerk, go summon the lictors of the thirty curiae," said Sextus Caesar. "You will have your proconsular imperium, Gnaeus Domitius, as soon as the lictors of the thirty curiae get here. And will you report back to us in a special session the day after tomorrow?" he asked.

  "On the Nones?” asked Ahenobarbus incredulously.

  "In this emergency, Gnaeus Domitius, we will meet on the Nones," said Sextus Caesar firmly. "Hopefully it will be a better attended meeting! What is Rome coming to, that a genuine emergency produces no more than a handful of concerned men?"

  "Oh, I know why, Sextus Julius," said Marius. "They didn't come because they didn't believe the summonses. They all decided this was a manufactured crisis."

  On the Nones of October the House was fuller, yet by no means full. Drusus was present, but Philippus and Caepio were not, having decided that their absence would show the senators what they thought of this "invasion."