Masters of Rome Boxset: First Man in Rome, the Grass Crown, Fortune's Favourites, Caesar's Women, Caesar

by Colleen McCullough

  “What about your cousin, Caesar? Lucius Piso,” said Crassus.

  “We’d have to buy him,” from Pompey. “He’s a businessman.”

  “Good provinces for both of them, then,” said Caesar. “Syria and Macedonia.”

  “But for longer than a year,” Pompey advised. “Gabinius would be happy with that, I know.”

  “I’m not so sure about Lucius Piso,” said Crassus, frowning.

  “Why are Epicureans so expensive?” Pompey demanded.

  “Because they dine on gold and off gold,” said Crassus.

  Caesar grinned. “How about a marriage? Cousin Lucius has a daughter almost eighteen, but she’s not highly sought. No dowry.”

  “Pretty girl, as I remember,” said Pompey. “No sign of Piso’s eyebrows or teeth. Don’t understand the lack of a dowry, though.”

  “At the moment Piso’s suffering,” Crassus contributed. “No wars worth speaking of, and all his money’s tied up in armaments. He had to use Calpurnia’s dowry to keep himself afloat. However, Caesar, I refuse to give up either of my sons.”

  “And if Brutus is to marry my girl, I can’t afford to give up either of my boys!” cried Pompey, bristling.

  Caesar caught his breath, almost choked. Ye gods, he’d been so upset he hadn’t remembered to mention that alliance to Brutus!

  “Is Brutus to marry your girl?’’ asked Crassus skeptically.

  “Probably not,” Caesar interjected coolly. “Brutus wasn’t in a fit state for questions or offers, so don’t count on it, Magnus.”

  “All right, I won’t. But who can marry Calpurnia?”

  “Why not me?” asked Caesar, brows raised.

  Both men stared at him, delighted smiles dawning.

  “That,” said Crassus, “would answer perfectly.”

  “Very well then, Lucius Piso is our other consul.” Caesar sighed. “We won’t do as well among the praetors, alas.”

  “With both consuls we don’t need praetors,” said Pompey. “The best thing about Lucius Piso and Gabinius is that they’re strong men. The boni won’t intimidate them—or bluff them.”

  “There remains,” said Caesar pensively, “the matter of getting me the province I want. Italian Gaul and Illyricum.”

  “You’ll have Vatinius legislate it in the Plebeian Assembly,” said Pompey. “The boni never dreamed they’d be standing against the three of us when they gave you Italy’s traveling stock routes, did they?” He grinned. “You’re right, Caesar. With the three of us united, we can get anything we want from the Assemblies!”

  “Don’t forget Bibulus is watching the skies,” growled Crassus. “Whatever acts you pass are bound to be challenged, even if years from now. Besides, Magnus, your man Afranius has been prorogued in Italian Gaul. It won’t look good to your clients if you connive to take it off him and give it to Caesar.”

  Skin a dull red, Pompey glared at Crassus. “Very beautifully put, Crassus!” he snapped. “Afranius will do as he’s told, he’ll step aside for Caesar voluntarily. It cost me millions to buy him the junior consulship, and he knows he didn’t give value for money! Don’t worry about Afranius, you might have a stroke!”

  “You wish,” said Crassus with a broad smile.

  “I’m going to ask more of you than that, Magnus,” said Caesar, butting in. “I want Italian Gaul from the moment Vatinius’s law is ratified, not from next New Year’s Day. There are things I have to do there, the sooner the better.”

  The lion felt no chill on his hide, too warm from the attentions of Caesar’s daughter; Pompey merely nodded and smiled, never even thought to enquire what things Caesar wanted to do. “Eager to start, eh? I don’t see why not, Caesar.” He began to shift on his seat. “Is that all? I really should get home to Julia, don’t want her thinking I’ve got a girlfriend!” And off he went, chuckling at his own joke.

  “There’s no fool like an old fool,” said Crassus.

  “Be kind, Marcus! He’s in love.”

  “With himself.” Crassus turned his mind from Pompey to Caesar. “What are you up to, Gaius? Why do you need Italian Gaul at once?”

  “I need to enlist more legions, among other things.”

  “Does Magnus have any idea that you’re determined to supplant him as Rome’s greatest conqueror?”

  “No, I’ve managed to conceal that very nicely.”

  “Well, you do certainly have luck, I admit it. Another man’s daughter would have looked and sounded like Terentia, but yours is as lovely inside as she is out. She’ll keep him in thrall for years. And one day he’s going to wake up to find you’ve eclipsed him.”

  “That he will,” said Caesar, no doubt in his voice.

  “Julia or no, he’ll turn into your enemy then.”

  “I’ll deal with that when it happens, Marcus.”

  Crassus emitted a snort. “So you say! But I know you, Gaius. True, you don’t attempt to leap hurdles before they appear. However, there are no contingencies you haven’t thought about years ahead of their happening. You’re canny, crafty, creative and courageous.”

  “Very nicely put!” said Caesar, eyes twinkling.

  “I understand what you plan when you’re proconsul,” Crassus said. “You’ll conquer all the lands and tribes to the north and east of Italia by marching all the way down the Danubius to the Euxine Sea. However, the Senate controls the public purse! Vatinius can have the Plebeian Assembly grant you Italian Gaul together with Illyricum, but you still have to go to the Senate for funds. It won’t be disposed to give them to you, Caesar. Even if the boni didn’t scream in outrage, the Senate traditionally refuses to pay for aggressive wars. That’s where Magnus was unimpeachable. His wars have all been fought against official Roman enemies—Carbo, Brutus, Sertorius, the pirates, the two kings. Whereas you’re proposing to strike first, be the aggressor. The Senate won’t condone it, including many of your own adherents. Wars cost money. The Senate owns the money. And you won’t get it.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, Marcus. I don’t plan to apply to the Senate for funds. I’ll find my own.”

  “Out of your campaigns? Very risky!”

  Caesar’s reply was odd. “Are you still determined to annex Egypt?” he asked. “I’m curious.”

  Crassus blinked at the change of subject. “I’d love to, but I can’t. The boni would die to the last man before they’d let me.”

  “Good! Then I have my funds,” said Caesar, smiling.

  “I’m mystified.”

  “All will be revealed in due time.”

  *

  When Caesar called to see Brutus the next morning he found only Servilia, who glowered at him more, he was quick to note, because she felt it called for than because her feelings were permanently injured. Around her neck was a thick gold chain, and depending from it in a cage of gold was the huge strawberry-pink pearl. Her dress was slightly paler, but of the same hue.

  “Where’s Brutus?” he asked, having kissed her.

  “Around at his Uncle Cato’s,” she said. “You did me no good turn there, Caesar.”

  “According to Julia, the attraction has always been present,” he said, sitting down. “Your pearl looks magnificent.”

  “I’m the envy of every woman in Rome. And how is Julia?” she asked sweetly.

  “Well, I haven’t seen her, but if Pompeius is anything to go by, she’s very pleased with herself. Count yourself and Brutus lucky to be out of it, Servilia. My daughter has found her niche, which means a marriage to Brutus wouldn’t have lasted.”

  “That’s what Aurelia said. Oh, I could kill you, Caesar, but Julia was always his idea, not mine. After you and I became lovers I saw their betrothal as a way to keep you, but it was also quite uncomfortable once the news of us got out. Technical incest is not my ambition.” She pulled a face. “Belittling.”

  “Things do tend to happen for the best.”

  “Platitudes,” she said, “do not suit you, Caesar.”

  “
They don’t suit anyone.”

  “What brings you here so soon? A prudent man would have stayed away for some time.”

  “I forgot to relay a message from Pompeius,” he said, eyes twinkling wickedly.

  “What message?”

  “That if Brutus liked, Pompeius would be happy to give him his daughter in exchange for my daughter. He was quite sincere.”

  She reared up like an Egyptian asp. “Sincere!” she hissed. “Sincere? You may tell him that Brutus would open his veins first! My son marry the daughter of the man who executed his father?”

  “I shall relay your answer, but somewhat more tactfully, as he is my son-in-law.” He extended his arm to her, a look in his eyes which informed her he was in a mood for dalliance.

  Servilia rose to her feet. “It’s quite humid for this time of year,” she said.

  “Yes, it is. Less clothes would help.”

  “At least with Brutus not here the house is ours,” she said, lying with him in the bed she had not shared with Silanus.

  “You have the loveliest flower,” he remarked idly.

  “Do I? I’ve never seen it,” she said. “Besides, one needs a standard of comparison. Though I am flattered. You must have sniffed at most of Rome’s in your time.”

  “I have gathered many posies,” he said gravely, fingers busy. “But yours is the best, not to mention the most sniffable. So dark it’s almost Tyrian purple, with the same ability to change as the light shifts. And your black fur is so soft. I don’t like you as a person, but I adore your flower.’’

  She spread her legs wider and pushed his head down. “Then worship it, Caesar, worship it!” she cried. “Ecastor, but you’re wonderful!”

  3

  Ptolemy XI Theos Philopator Philadelphus, nicknamed Auletes the Flautist, had ascended the throne of Egypt during the dictatorship of Sulla, not long after the irate citizens of Alexandria had literally torn the previous King of nineteen days limb from limb; this was their retaliation for his murder of their beloved Queen, his wife of nineteen days.

  With the death of this King, Ptolemy Alexander II, there had ended the legitimate line of the Ptolemies. Complicated by the fact that Sulla had held Ptolemy Alexander II hostage for some years, taken him to Rome, and forced him to make a will leaving Egypt to Rome in the event that he died without issue. A tongue-in-cheek testament, as Sulla was well aware that Ptolemy Alexander II was so effeminate he would never sire children. Rome would inherit Egypt, the richest country in the world.

  But the tyranny of distance had defeated Sulla. When Ptolemy Alexander II parted company from himself in the agora at Alexandria, the palace cabal knew how long it would take for the news of his death to reach Rome and Sulla. The palace cabal also knew of two possible heirs to the throne living much closer to Alexandria than Rome. These were the two illegitimate sons of the old King, Ptolemy Lathyrus. They had been brought up first in Syria, then were sent to the island of Cos, where they had fallen into the hands of King Mithridates of Pontus. Who spirited them off to Pontus and in time married them to two of his many daughters, Auletes to Cleopatra Tryphaena, and the younger Ptolemy to Mithridatidis Nyssa. It was from Pontus that Ptolemy Alexander II had escaped and fled to Sulla; but the two illegitimate Ptolemies had preferred Pontus to Rome, and stayed on at the court of Mithridates. Then when King Tigranes conquered Syria, Mithridates sent the two young men and their wives south to Syria and Uncle Tigranes. He also apprised the palace cabal in Alexandria of the whereabouts of the two last-ever Ptolemies.

  Immediately after the death of Ptolemy Alexander II, word was hurried to King Tigranes in Antioch, who gladly obliged by sending both Ptolemies to Alexandria with their wives. There the elder, Auletes, was made King of Egypt, and the younger (henceforth known as Ptolemy the Cyprian) was dispatched to be regent of the island of Cyprus, an Egyptian possession. As their queens were his own daughters, the ageing King Mithridates of Pontus could congratulate himself that eventually Egypt would be ruled by his descendants.

  The name Auletes meant a flautist or piper, but Ptolemy called Auletes had not received the sobriquet because of his undeniable musicality; his voice happened to be very high and fluting. Luckily, however, he was not as effeminate as his younger brother, the Cyprian, who never managed to sire any children: Auletes and Cleopatra Tryphaena confidently expected to give Egypt heirs. But an un-Egyptian and unorthodox upbringing had not inculcated in Auletes a true respect for the native Egyptian priests who administered the religion of that strange country, a strip no more than two or three miles wide that followed the course of the river Nilus all the way from the Delta to the islands of the First Cataract and beyond to the border of Nubia. For it was not enough to be King of Egypt; the ruler of Egypt had also to be Pharaoh, and that he could not be without the agreement of the native Egyptian priests. Failing to understand, Auletes had made no attempt to conciliate them. If they were so important in the scheme of things, why were they living down in Memphis at the junction of the Delta with the river, rather than in the capital, Alexandria? For he never did come to realize that to the native Egyptians, Alexandria was a foreign place having no ties of blood or history to Egypt.

  Extremely exasperating to learn then that all Pharaoh’s wealth was deposited in Memphis under the care of the native Egyptian priests! Oh, as King, Auletes had control of the public income, which was enormous. But only as Pharaoh could he run his fingers through the vast bins of jewels, build pylons out of gold bricks, slide down veritable mountains of silver.

  Queen Cleopatra Tryphaena, the daughter of Mithridates, was far cleverer than her husband, who suffered from the intellectual disadvantages so much breeding of sister with brother and uncle with niece brought in its train. Knowing that they could not produce any offspring until Auletes was at least crowned King of Egypt, Cleopatra Tryphaena set to work to woo the priests. The result was that four years after they had arrived in Alexandria, Ptolemy Auletes was officially crowned. Unfortunately only as King, not as Pharaoh. Thus the ceremonies had been conducted in Alexandria rather than in Memphis. They were followed by the birth of the first child, a daughter named Berenice.

  Then in the same year which had seen the death of old Queen Alexandra of the Jews, another daughter was born; her name was Cleopatra. The year of her birth was ominous, for it saw the beginning of the end for Mithridates and Tigranes, exhausted after the campaigns of Lucullus, and it saw renewed interest from Rome in the annexation of Egypt as a province of the burgeoning empire. The ex-consul, Marcus Crassus, was prowling in the shadows. When little Cleopatra was only four and Crassus became censor, he tried to secure the annexation of Egypt in the Senate. Ptolemy Auletes shivered in fear, paid huge sums to Roman senators to make sure the move failed. Successful bribes. The threat of Rome diminished.

  But with the arrival of Pompey the Great in the East to terminate the careers of Mithridates and Tigranes, Auletes saw his allies to the north vanish. Egypt was worse than alone; her new neighbor on each side was now Rome, ruling both Cyrenaica and Syria. Though this change in the balance of power did solve one problem for Auletes. He had been desirous of divorcing Cleopatra Tryphaena for some time, as his own half sister by the old King, Ptolemy Lathyrus, was now of an age to marry. The death of King Mithridates enabled him to do so. Not that Cleopatra Tryphaena lacked Ptolemaic blood. She had several dollops from her father and her mother. Just not enough of it. When the time came for Isis to endow him with sons, Auletes knew that both Egyptians and Alexandrians would approve of these sons far more if they were of almost pure Ptolemaic blood. And he might at last be created Pharaoh, get his hands on so much treasure that he could afford to buy Rome off permanently.

  So Auletes finally divorced Cleopatra Tryphaena and married his own half sister. Their son, who in time would rule as Ptolemy XII, was born in the year of the consulship of Metellus Celer and Lucius Afranius; his half sister Berenice was then fifteen, and his half sister Cleopatra eight. Not that Cleopatra Tryphaena was murdered, or even ban
ished. She remained in the palace at Alexandria with her two daughters and contrived to stay on good terms with the new Queen of Egypt. It took more than divorce to devastate a child of Mithridates, and she was, besides, maneuvering to secure a marriage between the baby male heir to the throne and her younger girl, Cleopatra. That way the line of King Mithridates in Egypt would not die out.

  Unfortunately Auletes mishandled his negotiations with the native Egyptian priests following the birth of his son; twenty years after arriving in Alexandria he found himself as far from being Pharaoh as he had been when he arrived. He built temples up and down the Nilus; he made offerings to every deity from Isis to Horus to Serapis; he did everything he could think of except the right thing.

  Time then to dicker with Rome.

  Thus it was that at the beginning of February in the year of Caesar’s consulship, a deputation of one hundred Alexandrian citizens came to Rome to petition the Senate to confirm the King of Egypt’s tenure of the throne.

  The petition was duly presented during February, but an answer was not forthcoming. Frustrated and miserable, the deputation—under orders from Auletes to do whatever was necessary, and stay as long as might be needed—settled down to the grinding task of interviewing dozens of senators and trying to persuade them to help rather than hinder. Naturally the only thing the senators were interested in was money. If enough of it changed hands, enough votes might be secured.

  The leader of the deputation was one Aristarchus, who was also the King’s chancellor and leader of the current palace cabal. Egypt was so riddled with bureaucracy that she had been enervated by it for two or three thousand years; it was a habit the new Macedonian aristocracy imported by the first Ptolemy had not been able to break. Instead, the bureaucracy stratified itself in new ways, with the Macedonian stock at the top, those of mixed Egyptian and Macedonian blood in the middle, and the native Egyptians (save for the priests) at the bottom. Further complicated by the fact that the army was Jewish. A wily and subtle man, Aristarchus was the direct descendant of one of the more famous librarians at the Alexandrian Museum, and had been a senior civil servant for long enough to understand how Egypt worked. Since it was no part of the aims of the Egyptian priests to have the country end up being owned by Rome, he had managed to persuade them to augment that portion of Auletes’s income left over from paying to run Egypt, so he had vast resources at his fingertips. Vaster, indeed, than he had given Auletes to understand.