6. The October Horse: A Novel of Caesar and Cleopatra

by Colleen McCullough

  6

  While Caesar and Octavius, talking incessantly, made their way up the coast of Nearer Spain to cross the Pyrenees, the seaport of Narbo was experiencing more excitement than it had since Lucius Caesar had used it as his base while Cousin Gaius fought the Long-haired Gauls. An attractive city at the mouth of the Atax River, it was famous for its seafood, particularly the world's most succulent fish, a very flat creature that lived on the estuary sea floor and had to be dug out of hiding: hence its name, dug-mullet. However, Narbo didn't really think that the sixty-odd Roman senators who descended upon it at the end of June were visiting in order to dine on dug-mullets. Narbo knew that Caesar was coming, and that these important men were there to see him. That they had chosen Narbo lay in the fact that there was no other place of sufficient size to accommodate so many in a proper degree of comfort. Senators like Decimus Brutus, Gaius Trebonius, Marcus Antonius and Lucius Minucius Basilus were well known from the days of Caesar's Gallic War; arriving first, the four promptly moved into Lucius Caesar's mansion, which he had kept in the hope that one day he would have a chance to return to a place he loved dearly. The rest distributed themselves around the better inns or begged shelter with some prosperous Roman merchant; Narbo had a good many, as it served as the port for a lush hinterland that stretched as far as Tolosa, a fine inland city downstream from the headwaters of the Garumna River. Recently Narbo's status had risen even higher; Caesar had created a new province, Narbonese Gaul, which extended from west of the Rhodanus River to the Pyrenees, and from Our Sea to Oceanus Atlanticus where the Duranius and the Garumna met at the Gallic oppidum of Burdigala. It thus incorporated the lands of the Volcae Tectosages and the Aquitani. As the capital, Narbo had a fine new governor's palace where Caesar and his staff would stay after they arrived. Its first incumbent, already in residence, was Caesar's brave and scholarly legate, Aulus Hirtius.

  Mark Antony slept in Lucius Caesar's house only the one night before Hirtius invited him to the governor's palace. Which left Gaius Trebonius, Decimus Brutus and Basilus in Lucius Caesar's house, a state of affairs that suited Trebonius, relieved him. He had decided that it was time to start feeling out certain men on the subject of an untimely death for Caesar. He started with Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus, sustained by that little chat in Murcius's tavern. "The only way we're ever going to have that fighting chance in the elections you talked of, Decimus, is if Caesar no longer rules Rome," he said as they walked the busy quayside. "I am aware of that, Trebonius." "If you are, then how do you think we can end Caesar's rule?" "There's only one way. Kill him." "Once upon a time," Trebonius said in his mournful voice, staring at a ship anchoring in the roads, "Caesar prosecuted Antonius's uncle Hybrida for atrocities he committed in Greece. It created a bit of an uproar because of Caesar's connection to the Antonii, but the Great Man not so great in those days said it didn't infringe the unwritten tenets of families because the connection was through marriage only." "I remember the case. Hybrida invoked tribunician protection and halted proceedings, but Caesar had rendered him so odious that he had to go into exile anyway," Decimus said. "My connection to the Julii is by blood, but it's quite remote through a Popillia who was the mother of Catulus Caesar's father." "Is that remote enough to consider joining a group of men dedicated to killing Caesar?" "Oh, yes," said Decimus Brutus without hesitation. He walked on, wrinkling his nose at the smell of fish, seaweed and ships. "However, Trebonius, why do you need a group of men?" "Because I have no intention of sacrificing my own life and career in the cause," Trebonius said frankly. "I want enough very important men involved to make it seem a patriotic act, one that the Senate won't have the courage to punish." "So you're not thinking of doing it here in Narbo?" "All I intend to do in Narbo is sound people out but only after a lot of listening and observation. I'm asking you here and now because that makes two of us to listen and observe." "Ask Basilus, and there will be three of us." "I had thought of him. Do you think he'll be in it?" "In a flash," said Decimus. His lip curled, but not from the smells. "He's another Hybrida, he tortures his slaves. I heard that his activities have come to Caesar's ears, and that he'll have no further advancement. Caesar paid him out instead." Trebonius frowned. "A history like that won't add any distinction to our group." "Very few know. To senatorial sheep, he's important." Which was true enough. Lucius Minucius Basilus was a Picentine landowner who claimed that his family could trace its origins back to the days of Cincinnatus, though he could offer no proof beyond a flat statement. Having discovered that a flat statement was all that most of his fellow First Class required as proof, he had gone far. A Caesar-appointed praetor this year, he had looked forward to the consulship until word leaked back to him that his secret vice had been reported to Caesar. With a tortured slave to testify. When he had received Caesar's curt letter informing him that his public career was over, Basilus turned from a Caesar worshiper to a Caesar hater. After four years as one of Caesar's legates in Gaul, a rude shock to find himself excluded from the inner circle. He had come to Narbo to plead his case, but with little hope. When Trebonius and Decimus Brutus sounded him out, he agreed to join what Decimus had nicknamed the Kill Caesar Club with alacrity, even jubilation. Three. Now who else? Lucius Staius Murcus had come to Narbo confidently, for he knew he stood high in Caesar's favor; his talents lay on the sea, and he had admiraled fleets for Caesar with flair. However, he had sided with Caesar for the most basic of reasons: he knew that Caesar would win, and he wanted to be on the winning side. The trouble was that he disliked Caesar intensely, and sensed that the emotion was reciprocated. Therefore standing high in Caesar's favor was a state of being that could change, especially now that there were no more battles to be fought. He had been praetor, he wanted to be consul, yet was edgily aware that, with only two consuls each year, and many men high in Caesar's favor, his own chances were slender. Basilus suggested him, but they agreed not to approach Staius Murcus in Narbo. Narbo was for noting names, not approaching. Certain others in Narbo went on the list of potential Kill Caesar Club members, but all mere pedarii senators, backbenchers with little clout. Decimus Turullius, the brothers Caecilius Metellus and Caecilius Buciolanus, the brothers Publius and Gaius Servilius Casca were noted down. So was a very angry Caesennius Lento, the beheader of Gnaeus Pompey.

  On the third day of Quinctilis, Caesar's party descended on Narbo at last, accompanied by the remnants of the Tenth Legion and the somewhat plumper Fifth Alauda. Caesar, noted Mark Antony, was looking in the pink of health. "My dear Antonius," said Caesar cordially, kissing his cheek, "what a pleasure to see you. And Aulus Hirtius, of course." Antony didn't notice what Caesar went on to say, his eyes on the slender figure emerging from Caesar's gig. Young Gaius Octavius? Yes, it was! But there had been big changes. He'd never really taken any notice of his second cousin, dismissed him as a future bum-boy who'd be one of the family disgraces, but the lad, though as precious and pretty as ever, now exuded a quiet confidence that said he was doing very well as Caesar's cadet. Caesar turned to Octavius with a smile and drew him forward. "As you see, I have just about the entire family with me. All we needed to be complete was Marcus Antonius." Caesar slipped an arm about Octavius's shoulders and gave him a slight hug. "Go inside, Gaius, and see where they've put me." Octavius smiled at Antony unselfconsciously and did as he was told. Quintus Pedius was approaching; Antony had to act fast, and did. "I'm here to apologize, Caesar. And beg forgiveness." "I accept the one and grant the other, Antonius." The next thing they were all there, from Quintus Pedius to young Lucius Pinarius, Caesar's other great-nephew, a contubernalis with his cousin, Pedius. Plus Quintus Fabius Maximus, Calvinus, Messala Rufus, and Pollio. "I'd better move out," said Antony to Hirtius, counting the entourage. "I can stay at Uncle Lucius's place." "There's no need," said Caesar genially. "We'll put Agrippa, Pinarius and Octavius together in a cupboard somewhere." "Agrippa?" asked Antony. "There," said Caesar, pointing. "Did you ever see a more promising military man in all your life, Antonius?" "Quintus Sertorius wit
h a face," Antony said instantly. "Exactly what I thought. He's a contubernalis with Pedius, but I'm transferring him to my own staff when I leave for the East. And one of Pedius's military tribunes, Salvidienus Rufus. He led the cavalry charge at Munda, and did brilliantly." "Nice to know that Rome's still producing good men." "Not Rome, Antonius. Italy! Think more broadly, do!" "I've counted sixty-two senators come to bow and scrape," said Antony as they went indoors together. "Most of them are your own appointees, pedarii lobby fodder, but Trebonius and Decimus Brutus are here, so are Basilus and Staius Murcus." He stopped to look at Caesar quizzically. "You seem mighty fond of that young saltatrix tonsa, Octavius," he said abruptly. "Don't let appearances fool you, Antonius. Octavius is far from a barbered dancing girl. He has more political acumen in his little finger than you have in your entire hulking body. He's been my constant companion since shortly after Munda, and I don't remember when I've enjoyed a young fellow so much. He's sickly and he'll never be a military man, but the head on his shoulders is old and wise. A pity his name's Octavius, really." A stab of alarm pierced Antony; he stiffened. "Thinking of making his name Julius Caesar by adoption, are you?" he asked. "Alas, no. I told you, he's sickly. Too sickly to make old bones," Caesar said lightly. Octavius appeared. "Up the stairs, the suite right at the end of the corridor, Caesar," he said. "You won't need me now, so if you don't mind, I'll see where Agrippa and Pinarius are stowing their gear. Is it all right if I stay with them?" "I had planned it thus. Enjoy Narbo, and don't get into any trouble. You're on leave." The large, beautiful grey eyes rested on Caesar's face with patent adoration, then the lad nodded and vanished. "He thinks the sun shines out of your arse," said Antony. "It's very pleasant to know that someone does, Antonius. Particularly a member of my own family." "Go on! Pedius doesn't fart unless you tell him to." "What of your farts, cousin?" "Treat me well, Caesar, and I'll treat you well." "I've accepted your apology, but you're on probation, and it would be wise to remember that. Are you out of debt?" "No," said Antony gruffly, "but I was able to pay the usurers enough to shut them up. Once Fulvia's flush again, they'll get more, and I'm counting on a share of the Parthian booty to finish the business." They had reached Caesar's suite, where Hapd'efan'e was paring some fruit. Antony eyed the Egyptian physician with revulsion. "I have other plans for you," Caesar said, swallowing a peach. Antony stopped dead and glared at Caesar furiously. "Oh, no, not again!" he snapped. "Don't expect me to sit on Rome for you for five years, because I won't! I want a decent campaign with some decent booty!" "You will have it, Antonius, but not with me," Caesar said, keeping his voice level. "Next year you will be consul, and after that you'll go to Macedonia with six good legions. Vatinius will remain in Illyricum, and the two of you will fight a joint campaign north into the lands of the Danubius and Dacia. I have no desire to see Rome's frontiers threatened by King Burebistas while I'm absent. You and Vatinius will conquer from the Savus and Dravus all the way to the Euxine Sea. And your share of the booty will be the general's, not a legate's." "But it won't be Parthian booty," Antony growled. "If the puny campaigns of the previous governors of Macedonia are anything to go by, Antonius," said Caesar, keeping his temper, "I predict you'll emerge from the campaign as rich as Croesus. The Danubian tribes are gold-rich peoples." "I'll still have to share with Vatinius, said Antony. "You'd have to share the Parthian spoils with two dozen men of equal rank. And have you forgotten that as the general, you take all the proceeds from the sale of slaves? Do you know how much I made out of the sale of Gallic slaves? Thirty thousand talents!" Caesar eyed him mockingly. "You, Antonius, are a glaring example of a Roman boy who never did his homework and never mastered arithmetic. You're also a born glutton."

  Caesar remained in Narbo for two nundinae, setting up the new province of Narbonese Gaul and allocating generous, fertile portions of land to the few survivors of the Tenth Legion; the Fifth Alauda was to march east with him to the Rhodanus valley, where he intended to settle its men on equally good land. They were a priceless gift for Gaul, these matchless legionaries, who would marry Gallic women and commingle the blood of two superlative warrior peoples. "He's always been royal," said Gaius Trebonius to Decimus Brutus as they watched Caesar move among the fawning senators, "but it grows in leaps and bounds. Caesar Rex! If we convince all the Romans who matter that he intends to crown himself King of Rome, we'll get away free, Decimus. Rome has never punished regicides." "We need someone closer to him to convince the Romans who matter that he will crown himself King of Rome," Decimus said thoughtfully. "Someone like Antonius, who I hear is to be one of next year's consuls. I know Antonius won't do the deed, but I always have a feeling that he'll not condemn the deed either. Perhaps he'd go as far as making the deed look respectable?" "Perhaps," said Trebonius, smiling. "Shall I ask him?" As Antony was making a huge effort to stay sober and be of some use to Caesar, it wasn't easy to get him on his own, but on their last evening in Narbo, Trebonius managed by inviting Antony to look at a particularly beautiful horse. "The beast's up to your weight, Antonius, and well worth what the owner's asking. I know you're in to the bloodsuckers for millions, but the consul needs a better Public Horse than your old fellow, which must be due for retirement. The Treasury pays for a Public Horse, don't forget." Antony took the bait, and was delighted when he saw the animal, tall and strong without being lumbering, and a striking mixture of light and dark grey dapples. The deal concluded, he and Trebonius walked back to the town. "I'm going to do some talking," said Trebonius, "but I don't want you to answer me. All I ask is that you listen. Nor do you need to tell me that I'm putting my life in your hands by broaching this particular subject. However, whether you agree with me or not, I refuse to believe that you'll tattle to Caesar. Of course you know what the subject is. Killing Caesar. There are now a number of us who are convinced that the deed must be done if Rome is ever to be free again. But we can't hurry, because we have to appear to the First Class as the champions of liberty as truly patriotic men doing Rome a great service." He paused while two senators passed. "The oath you swore to Fulvia can't be broken, so I'm not asking you to belong to the Kill Caesar Club. Decimus thought of the name, which could be a joke as easily as a conspiracy walls have ears? What I'm going to do is to ask you to help in ways that don't affect your oath. Namely, by making it seem as if Caesar is about to don the diadem. There are people already saying that, but it's generally held to be spite invented by Caesar's avowed enemies, so it hasn't impressed people like Flavius Hemicillus and Atticus, any of the other real plutocrats. As Decimus says, someone close to Caesar has to make the King of Rome option look a foregone conclusion." Two more senators passed by; Trebonius was overheard talking eagerly about Antony's new Public Horse. "Now, the rumor is out that next year you will be consul," Trebonius resumed, "and that when Caesar leaves Rome for the war against the Parthians, you're to stay in Rome to govern until the end of the year, then start a campaign into Dacia with Vatinius don't ask me how I know, just believe I do. I imagine you're not as pleased as maybe Caesar thinks you are, and I understand why. Booty will be hard to come by. There's no German treasure like the one in Atuatuca, nor is there a Druid center of worship full of gold votives. You'll have to force the barbarians to reveal the sites of their burial mounds, and you're not a Labienus, are you? As for the sale of slaves, who's going to buy them? The biggest market is the Kingdom of the Parthians, and they're not going to be buying any slaves while Caesar's breathing down their necks. But if Caesar is dead, all that changes, doesn't it?" Antony stopped, bent to tie his boot; his fingers, Trebonius noted, were trembling. Yes, the message was being absorbed. "Anyway, as consul-elect for the rump of this year and consul in fact next year, you're in a perfect position to perform little acts that will make it appear as if Caesar intends to be Caesar Rex. There's talk of putting a statue of Caesar in Quirinus's, but what if the Senate voted to give Caesar a palace on the Quirinal alongside Quirinus's, and put a temple pediment on it? What if there was to be a cult to Caesar's clemency, only it loo
ked more like a god cult? If you were the flamen, people would have to take it seriously, wouldn't they?" Trebonius paused to draw breath, then went on. "I have a great many ideas along those lines, and I'm sure you're capable of thinking of plenty for yourself. What we have to do is make it seem as if Caesar will never step down, never abrogate his power, and is aiming at being a god on earth. The first step to that is to be a king, so the two can be worked together. You see, none of the members of the Kill Caesar Club wants to be tried for perduellio treason, or even to be castigated for the deed. We aim to be heroes. But that requires the generation of a mood in the First Class, which is the only Class that matters. Anyone lower than that thinks Caesar is a god and a king already, and they love it and love him. He gives them work, opportunities, prosperity do they care who rules them, or how? No, they don't. Even the Second Class. What we have to do is turn the First Class implacably against Caesar Rex." They were approaching Lucius Caesar's mansion. "Don't say a word, Antonius. Your actions are all the answer we need." Trebonius nodded and smiled as if they had just enjoyed a meaningless conversation, and slipped inside. Mark Antony walked on to the governor's palace. He too was smiling.