Caesar (73 page)

At dawn on the fourth day of April, Caesar crossed the pomerium into the city, attended by his twelve lictors (in their crimson tunics and bearing the axes in their fasces—something only a dictator was permitted to do within the sacred boundary). With him went his two tribunes of the plebs, Antony and Quintus Cassius, and the urban praetor, Lepidus. Antony and Quintus Cassius were clad in full armor and wore their swords. He went straight to the basement of the temple of Saturn, wherein lay the Treasury.“ Go ahead,” he said curtly to Lepidus. Lepidus applied a fist. “Open the doors to the praetor urbanus!” he shouted. The right-hand leaf opened; a head poked out. “Yes?” it enquired, a look of terror on its face.“ Admit us, tribunus aerarius.” It seemed out of nowhere, Lucius Metellus appeared and put himself squarely across the doorway. He was alone. “Gaius Caesar, you have abandoned whatever imperium you say you own. You are inside the pomerium.” A small crowd was gathering, its ranks swelling quickly.“ Gaius Caesar, you have no authority to invade these premises and no authority to remove one single sestertius from them!” cried Lucius Metellus in his loudest voice. “I have vetoed your access to Rome's public purse, and here and now I veto you again! Go back to the Campus Martius, or go to the official residence of the Pontifex Maximus, or go wherever else you wish. I will not obstruct you. But I will not let you enter Rome's Treasury!”

“Stand aside, Metellus,” said Mark Antony.“ I will not.”

“Stand aside, Metellus,” Antony repeated. But Metellus spoke to Caesar, not to Antony. “Your presence here is a direct infringement of every law on Rome's tablets! You are not dictator! You are not proconsul! At best you are a privatus senator, at worst you are a public enemy. If you defy me and enter these portals, every man watching will know which of the two you really are—an enemy of the People of Rome!”

Caesar listened impassively; Mark Antony stepped forward, sword scabbard pushed into drawing position.“ Stand aside, Metellus!” roared Antony. “I am a legally elected tribune of the plebs, and I order you to stand aside!”

“You're Caesar's creature, Antonius! Don't loom over me like my executioner! I will not stand aside!”

“Well,” said Antony, putting his hands on Metellus's arms below the shoulders, “look at it this way, Metellus. I'm going to lift you aside. Intrude again, and I will execute you.”

“Quirites, bear witness! Armed force has been used against me! I have been obstructed in my duty! My life has been threatened! Remember it well against the day when all these men are tried for the highest treason!”

Antony lifted him aside. His purpose accomplished, Lucius Metellus walked away into the crowd proclaiming his violated status and begging all men present to bear witness.“ You first, Antonius,” said Caesar. For Antony, never an urban quaestor, this was a new experience. He ducked his head to enter, though it wasn't necessary, and almost collided with the terrified tribunus aerarius in charge of the Treasury that fateful morning. Quintus Cassius, Lepidus and Caesar followed; the lictors remained outside. Openings covered by grilles permitted a wan light to soak into darkened tufa block walls on either side of a narrow passage ending in a very ordinary door, the entrance to the warren in which the Treasury officials worked amid lamps, cobwebs and paper mites. But to Antony and Quintus Cassius that door was nothing; off the interior wall of the corridor there opened dark chambers, each one sealed with a massive gate of iron bars. Inside in the gloom were dull glitters, gold in this chamber, silver in that, all the way to the office door.“ It's the same on the other side,” said Caesar, leading the way. “One vault after another. The law tablets get whisked in and out of one room at the very back.” He entered the outer office and proceeded through its cluttered space to the stuffy cubicle wherein the senior man worked. “Your name?” he asked. The tribunus aerarius swallowed. “Marcus Cuspius,” he said.“ How much is here?”

“Thirty million sesterces in minted coin. Thirty thousand talents of silver in talent sows. Fifteen thousand talents of gold in talent sows. All stamped with the Treasury seal.”

“Excellent!” purred Caesar. “More than a thousand talents in coin. Sit down, Cuspius, and make out a paper. The urban praetor and these two tribunes of the plebs will bear witness. Record on your paper that Gaius Julius Caesar, proconsul, has this day borrowed thirty million sesterces in coin to fund his legitimate war in the name of Rome. The terms are for two years, the interest ten percent simple.” Caesar perched himself on the edge of the desk as Marcus Cuspius wrote; when the document was complete he leaned over and put his name to it, then nodded to the witnesses. Quintus Cassius wore a peculiar expression.“ What's the matter, Cassius?” Caesar asked, handing his pen to Lepidus.“ Oh! Oh, nothing, Caesar. Just that I never realized gold and silver have a smell.”

“Do you like the smell?”

“Very much.”

“Interesting. Personally I find it suffocating.” The document signed and witnessed, Caesar handed it back to Cuspius with a smile. “Keep it safe, Marcus Cuspius.” He lifted himself off the desk. “Now listen to me, and mark me well. The contents of this building are in my care from this day forward. Not one sestertius will leave it unless I say so. And to make sure my orders are obeyed, there will be a permanent guard of my soldiers at the Treasury entrance. They will allow no one access save those who work here and my designated agents, who are Lucius Cornelius Balbus and Gaius Oppius. Gaius Rabirius Postumus—the banker, not the senator—is also authorized as my agent when he returns from his travels. Is that understood?”

“Yes, noble Caesar.” The tribunus aerarius wet his lips. “Er—what about the urban quaestors?”

“No urban quaestors, Cuspius. Just my named agents.”

“So that's how you do it,” said Antony as the group walked back to Pompey's villa on the Campus Martius.“ No, Antonius, that's not how you do it. It's how I've been forced to do it. Lucius Metellus has put me in the wrong.”

“Worm! I should have killed him.”

“And martyred him? Certainly not! If I read him correctly—and I think I do—he'll spoil his victory by prating of it to all and sundry night and day. It isn't wise to prate.” Suddenly Caesar thought of young Gaius Octavius's words on the subject of keeping one's counsel, and smiled. He might go far, that boy. “Men will grow tired of listening to him, just as men grew tired of Marcus Cicero and his struggle to prove Catilina a traitor.”

“It's a pity all the same,” said Antony. He grimaced. “Why is it, Caesar, that there's always a man like Lucius Metellus?”

“If there were not, Antonius, this world might work better. Though if this world worked better, there'd be no place in it for men like me,” said Caesar. At Pompey's villa he gathered his legates and Lepidus in the huge room Pompey had called his study.“ We have money,” he said, sitting in Pompey's chair behind Pompey's desk. “That means I move tomorrow, the Nones of April.”

“For Spain,” said Antony with pleasure. “I'm looking forward to that, Caesar.”

“Don't bother, Antonius. You're not coming. I need you here in Italia.” Brow darkening, Antony scowled ferociously. “That's not fair! I want to go to war!”

“Nothing is fair, Antonius, nor do I run things to keep you happy. I said I needed you in Italia, so in Italia you'll stay. As my—er—unofficial Master of the Horse. You'll take command of everything outside the first milestone from Rome. Particularly those troops I intend to leave behind to garrison Italia. You will recruit—and not like a Cicero. I want results, Antonius. You'll be required to make all the executive decisions and all the dispositions necessary to keep this entire country peaceful. No one of senatorial status may leave Italia for a foreign destination without first obtaining permission from you. Which means I want a garrison in every port capable of harboring ships for hire. You will also be required to deal with the Italian end of the grain supply. No one can be let go hungry. Listen to the bankers. Listen to Atticus. And listen to the voice of good sense.” The eyes grew very cold. “You may junket and carouse, Antonius—provided the work is done to my satisfaction. If it is not, I'll strip you of your citizenship and send you into permanent exile.” Antony swallowed, nodded. Now came Lepidus's turn.“ Lepidus, as urban praetor you'll govern the city of Rome. It won't be as difficult for you as it has been for me these last few days, because you won't have Lucius Metellus to veto you. I have given instructions to some of my troops to escort Lucius Metellus to Brundisium, where they will put him on a boat and send him, with my compliments, to Gnaeus Pompeius. You will make use of the guard outside the Treasury should you need it. Though the normal rule allows the urban praetor to be absent from the city for up to ten days at a time, you will never be absent. I expect full granaries, a continuation of the free grain dole, and peace on Rome's streets. You will persuade the Senate to authorize the minting of one hundred million sesterces in coin, then hand the Senate's directive to Gaius Oppius. My own building programs will continue—at my own expense, of course. When I return I expect to see Rome prosperous, well cared for and content. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Caesar,” said Lepidus.“ Marcus Crassus,” said Caesar in a softer voice. This was one legate he prized, the last living link with his friend Crassus, and a loyal subordinate in Gaul. ”Marcus Crassus, to you I hand my province of Italian Gaul. Care for it well. You will also begin a census of all those inhabitants of Italian Gaul who do not as yet hold the full citizenship. As soon as I have the time, I will be legislating the full citizenship for everyone. Therefore a census will shorten the procedure."

“Yes, Caesar,” said Marcus Crassus.“ Gaius Antonius,” said Caesar, voice neutral. Marcus he thought a good man provided his duties were spelled out and dire punishment promised if he failed, but this middle of the three Antonian brothers he couldn't care for at all. Almost as large as Marcus, but not nearly as bright. An untutored oaf. Family, however, was family. Therefore Gaius Antonius would have to be given a job with some responsibility. A pity. Whatever he was given would not be done well.“ Gaius Antonius, you will take two legions of locally recruited troops and hold Illyricum for me. When I say hold, I mean just that. You will not conduct assizes or function as governor—Marcus Crassus in Italian Gaul will look after that side of Illyricum. Base yourself at Salona, but keep your communications with Tergeste open at all times. Do not tempt Pompeius; he's fairly close to you. Understood?”

“Yes, Caesar.”

“Orca,” said Caesar to Quintus Valerius Orca, “you will go to Sardinia with one legion of local recruits and hold it for me. Personally I wouldn't care if the whole island sank to the bottom of Our Sea, but the grain it produces is valuable. Safeguard it.”

“Yes, Caesar.”

“Dolabella, I'm giving you the Adriatic Sea. You'll raise a fleet and defend it against any navy Pompeius may have. Sooner or later I'll be using the crossing from Brundisium to Macedonia, and I expect to be able to use it.”

“Yes, Caesar.” Now came one of the more surprising Caesareans, the son of Quintus Hortensius. He had gone to Caesar in Gaul as a legate after his father's death, and proved a good worker in the short time his duties lasted. Liking him and learning that he possessed good diplomatic skills, Caesar had found him very useful in settling the tribes down. Present with Caesar in Italian Gaul, he had been a part of the group who had crossed the Rubicon in their commander's wake. Yes, a surprise. But a very pleasant one.“ Quintus Hortensius, I'm giving you the Tuscan Sea. You'll raise a fleet and keep the sea lanes open between Sicily and all the western ports from Rhegium to Ostia.”

“Yes, Caesar.” There remained the most important of the independent commands; every pair of eyes turned to the cheerful, freckled face of Gaius Scribonius Curio.“ Curio, good friend, huge help, faithful ally, brave man... you'll take all the cohorts Ahenobarbus had in Corfinium, and recruit sufficient extra men to form four legions. Levy in Samnium and Picenum, not in Campania. You will proceed to Sicily and eject Postumius, Cato and Favonius from it. Holding Sicily is absolutely essential, as you well know. Once Sicily is secured and properly garrisoned, you'll go on to Africa and secure it too. That will mean the grain supply is completely ours. I'm sending Rebilus with you as second-in-command, and Pollio for good measure.”

“Yes, Caesar.”

“All commands will carry propraetorian imperium.” Mischief nudged the elated Curio's tongue, made him ask, “If I'm propraetor, I have six lictors. May I wreath their fasces in laurels?” The mask slipped for the first time. “Why not? Since you assisted me to conquer Italia, Curio, of course you may,” said Caesar with venomous bitterness. “What a thing to have to say! I conquered Italia. But there was no one to defend her.” He nodded brusquely. “That is all. Good day.”

Curio tore home to the Palatine whooping, whirled Fulvia off her feet and kissed her. Not confined to the Campus Martius as Caesar was, he had been home now for five days.“ Fulvia, Fulvia, I'm to have my own command!” he cried.“ Tell me!”

“I'm to lead four legions—four legions, imagine it!—to Sicily and then to Africa! My own war! I'm propraetore, Fulvia, and I'm to wreath my fasces in laurels! I'm in command! I have six lictors! My second-in-command is a hoary Gallic veteran, Caninius Rebilus! I'm his superior! I've got Pollio too! Isn't it wonderful?” And she, so loyal, so wholehearted a supporter, beamed, kissed him all over his dear freckled face, hugged him and exulted for him. “My husband the propraetor,” she said, and had to kiss his face again many times. “Curio, I'm so pleased!” Her expression changed. “Does that mean you have to leave at once? When will your imperium be conferred?”

“I don't know that it ever will be,” said Curio, undismayed. “Caesar gave all of us propraetorian status, but, strictly speaking, he's not authorized to. So I daresay we'll have to wait for our leges curiatae.” Fulvia stiffened. “He means to be dictator.”

“Oh, yes.” Curio sobered, frowned. “It was the most amazing meeting I've ever attended, meum mel. He sat there and he dished out the jobs without, it seemed, drawing breath. Crisp, succinct, absolutely specific. Over and done with in mere moments. The man's a phenomenon! Fully aware that he has no authority whatsoever to depute anyone to do anything, yet—for how long has he been thinking of it? He's a complete autocrat. I suppose ten years in Gaul as master of everyone and everything would have to change a man, but—ye Gods, Fulvia, he was born a dictator! If I don't understand any aspect of him, it's how he ever managed to hide what he is for so long. Oh, I remember how he used to irritate me when he was consul—I thought him royal then! But I actually believed that Pompeius pulled his strings. I know now that no one has ever pulled Caesar's strings.”