"The ambassador's gift is most becoming on you," I said.
"Isn't it wonderful?" she said, her eyes alight. "I'm so glad I got the red one. It suits my coloring much better than the green would have."
"I can only agree."
"Mother looks wonderful in hers, don't you think?"
"Yes, but not as stunning as you." I was enjoying this.
"That's because she hasn't yet realized the possibilities of the material." She smoothed the silk downward, drawing it taut. "For instance, she's wearing a strophium and subligaculum under hers. Well, I suppose when I'm her age I'll need a strophium too, but what's wonderful about a pure silk stola is that it combines the advantages of being decently clad with those of being naked."
I cleared my throat needlessly. "Truly, a marvelous fabric."
"I hear that you will be captain of the Suburrans the day after tomorrow. How exciting."
"Well, one must uphold the honor of the district. I am amazed that you've heard about it so soon. I only accepted the honor yesterday evening."
"It's all over the city. I think it's terribly brave." Her look of adoration almost made up for my fear.
"Oh, the danger is greatly exaggerated. I'm looking forward to it." I could lie with the best of them, in my youth.
"I'll be watching," she promised. "From a safe spot. Now, have you met our guests of honor? I suppose you haven't, the way Mother's been fluttering about. Come along with me." She took my hand and towed me to the group of Parthians. "Ambassador, this is the Quaestor Decius Caecilius Metellus the Younger. Decius, his Excellency, the ambassador Surena."
The Parthian smiled and bowed slightly, his fingertips extended and touching his chest, then his lips and brow. He wore a pointed chin-beard and his long hair was dressed in scented, oily ringlets. The Parthians followed the disgusting Oriental practice of wearing cosmetics. His face was dusted with white powder, with scarlet rouge on lips and cheeks. His eyebrows had been augmented by kohl into a single, black line, high-arched over the eyes and drawn down into a point over the bridge of the nose, so that they resembled a gull in flight, as seen from a distance. More kohl outlined his large, brown eyes. What a prize fop, I thought.
"I bring the greetings of King Phraates," he said. It was a practiced formula and his accent indicated that he was not comfortable with Latin.
"And the Senate and People of Rome extended their warmest greetings to his envoys," I said in Greek, which was spoken everywhere in the East and which, like all wellborn Romans, I was forced to learn in childhood. I longed for the day when we would be able to beat the Greek out of these barbarians and teach them a decent language.
"I think I hear Crassus arriving," Aurelia said. "Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen." I was grieved to see her go, but it gave me an opportunity to admire her shapely bottom as the silk gown performed exactly as she had indicated.
Surena did not seem to be as enthralled with the sight, but then easterners have strange tastes. "Wonderful stuff, silk," I muttered. Surena's eyes brightened within their rings of kohl. Apparently he liked silk better than what it contained.
"It is the gift of the gods. You must come to Parthia some time, and see the great silk bazaar at Ecbatana. It arrives by the camel-load from the Far East."
I was always intrigued by tales from far places. "Are the caravans manned by the Seres?"
He shook his head. "No one in the West has ever seen those people. The silk is many months, even years on the trails before it arrives in Ecbatana. It is traded from one caravan to another and as far as I know nobody has ever traveled the entire route. The Seres are said to be a small, yellow people with tilted eyes, but that could be fable."
"And what is the origin of silk?" I asked him. "One hears the most unlikely theories."
"Then you hear as much as we do," he admitted. "Some think it comes from a plant, like flax, others say that it is spun by giant, domesticated spiders. There is a belief that it is hair from the heads of women, which seems most unlikely, and some maintain that it is produced by tiny worms that eat the leaves of the mulberry bush. Whichever, it makes the lightest, the strongest, the most beautiful fabric in the world." He was wearing a good deal of it himself. "I delivered many bolts, a present from my king, to your General Pompey when we concluded our alliance against Mithridates and Tigranes."
"You were acting as envoy at that time?" I asked.
"No," he said, smiling, "as general of the Parthian forces."
The idea of this overdressed, bedaubed, effeminate foreigner leading an army seemed faintly ludicrous and I assumed that, as in so many monarchies, he received rank through his family relationship to the king. I did not know, of course, that I was speaking to the most powerful man in the Parthian empire. The kings of Parthia were just figureheads selected by the great families of Scythian descent, of which the house of Surena was the greatest. Ten years after this evening, he was to show Crassus and Rome that silk and cosmetics had done nothing to soften Parthia's warlike ferocity.
Then Aurelia and Orestilla arrived, towing Crassus. He exchanged fulsome greetings with the ambassador and, as soon as he could, took me aside. The recent marriage alliance of our families had made him benevolent toward me. Temporarily, at any rate.
"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 Publi
us." 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.
Chapter VII
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.
Approaching from the other end of the Forum I saw Publius Clodius and his two companions, backed by the dwellers of the Via Sacra. Like min
e, most of his followers were young men, excited and ready for a brawl. Clodius was still a rather handsome young man, despite some marks I had put on his face and which were always a great joy for me to look upon. I was pleased to note that he had added a pound or two since I had last seen him. In keeping with the solemnity of the occasion, we didn't make faces at each other, but maintained an impassive, hieratic demeanor.
I stepped onto the low dais that had been erected for the altar and stood there with the other five riders. My father was there, along with the fathers of two of the other men. Since, by the well-known Roman legal fiction, we were still our fathers' property, the three fathers and the flamen had to go through a certain mummery temporarily releasing us to the service of the god. When that was done, my father came to me and said: "This is a damnably risky business, but they'll remember it in the tribal assemblies when it comes time for you to stand for the aedileship. Just be careful and let the others take the risks, as much as possible." Then he left the dais. Father had a wonderfully political way of looking at everything. Anything short of death was acceptable to him, so long as it helped you get elected.
Then the flamen's attendants stripped us of our tunics. This was an ancient practice, but the main reason for it was to ensure that we were not wearing armor or concealed weapons beneath our outer garments. Only a subligaculum was permitted, and even that was discreetly searched lest we be concealing some amulet or charm intended to put a curse on a rival. During this stage of the proceedings I was pleased to note that I looked far better thus unclad than Clodius, with his extra poundage. He was a powerful man, though, and not to be underestimated. I did not shine so well in comparison to the other four, all of whom were as well conditioned as any professional athlete.
As the others were being searched I looked out over the crowd. Besides the Suburans, I had other supporters. I saw Milo and a large group of his thugs. The enmity between Clodius and me was as the love of brothers compared to what lay between him and Milo. A number of Catilina's men were there as promised, including Valgius and Thorius, the bearded lovelies who had followed Aurelia. The sight of Valgius tickled something in my memory, but he also made me think of Aurelia, which was something I was doing too much of already. I looked up at the Capitol, where the new image of Jupiter was at last in place, and saw that the repairs to the wall where it had been moved in had been completed. The haruspices had said that the new Jupiter would warn us of dangers to the state. Then I heard the sound of trumpets and a reverent silence fell over the crowd. The ceremony had begun.
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