Cicero Dies! by Peter Tonkin

Author:Peter Tonkin [Tonkin, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-09T22:00:00+00:00

iii

The journey back to Cicero’s house behind the Temple of the Vestal Virgins low on the Palatine was not long. But Septem – looking at events as a spy rather than a soldier- found it fascinating. He and Felix walked on either side of the old lawyer’s litter as the slaves carrying it jogged after the torch-bearers lighting the way. Almost the instant they entered the Porta Fontinalis, the febrile atmosphere of a city uncertain whether or not it was under siege seemed to grip everyone. Figures scuttled through the shadows, occasionally coalescing into muttering groups. Passers-by, mostly on foot but some in litters, came and went. But, because Cicero’s litter was well-known and apparently unguarded, one or two of the men – on foot or in litters – joined him for a moment or two of hurried conversation. Which the old lawyer, all too well aware of the actual purpose behind his apparently meagre escort, tried to control. With mixed success.

There were no familiar faces – indeed the men in the litters remained invisible – but the snippets of conversation were nevertheless quite audible to Septem.

‘Cicero! What shall we do? Is the boy besieging us?’ Demanded the occupant of the first litter carried briefly alongside Cicero’s.

‘Young Caesar assures me that he will not enter the city or interfere with us in any way. He modestly requests that we reconsider the three demands presented by his centurions.’ Septem smiled at the stilted formality of Cicero’s careful reply.

‘But from a position of such strength! Surely we have to...’

‘I will summon the Senate and we will discuss matters...’

‘Tonight? Surely we must move swiftly...’

‘No, old friend! Surely you remember that the Senate cannot be convened at night!’

‘Even so...’

‘Put your mind at rest. And your body too. Go home and sleep. Tomorrow or the day after, I will call the Senate...’ The strain of keeping control of the conversation was beginning to tell in Cicero’s voice as he dismissed the man.

Only to find the first litter immediately replaced by a second. ‘Cicero! How are we to control the boy now? You assured us that he was little more than your puppet and now he is more dangerous than Antony.’

‘Young Caesar needs no-one to control him,’ snapped Cicero rudely. ‘He is his own man and makes his own decisions...’

‘As long as he does not decide to join with Antony!’ persisted the stranger in the second litter. ‘Are we still certain of Generals Pollio and Plancus? Decimus Albinus is a broken reed...’

‘There is little chance. Antony is still hostis. He and Octavian... I should say young Caesar, fight like animals in the arena whenever they meet. There is still hope...’ The second litter swept away into the sea of darkness that was the Forum Romanum.

A third, a single figure this time, in Senatorial robes, detached himself from his lictors and came scurrying through the shadows of the Forum. ‘Cicero! How can we control the boy until we recall Cassius and Brutus with their armies from the East?’

‘Put your mind at rest.

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