‘Cicero calls Catiline an enigmatic figure,’ mused Faustus. ‘A good leader, but lustful and self-serving.’
‘Enigma is always viewed as dangerous. Mind you, some senators probably think lust is commendable in a strong politician.’
Faustus laughed. ‘I cannot call Trebonius ambiguous. He’s transparently ambitious for personal power.’
‘Say that, then. And don’t forget to mention how Trebonius and Arulenus dined out the bankers so they could make promises to increase interest rates. Many of the Senate are struggling in debt. That will rile them.’ Faustus made more notes. ‘Now, doesn’t that heartless swine Dillius have a vicious lawsuit against his dying grandfather? He cannot wait for his inheritance because he is desperate for more money for his exotic Greek wines.’
‘Greek?’
‘Bound to be. Unpatriotically ignoring Italian vintages.’
‘Well, it’s not him,’ I said. ‘Latest information puts that charge against Gratus, so you won’t want to use it.’
‘Ah! … Pity.’
The only candidate against whom we had no ammunition was Ennius Verecundus, the loner who went around smiling too much, with his mother running his campaign. Faustus remarked, ‘A candidate’s mother, if she is alive, should back him, though a man needs visible male supporters. Since Rome reveres strong mothers, we cannot call that reprehensible. But we may insinuate that if they elect Ennius Verecundus we’ll have a woman running a magistracy.’
‘So unacceptable!’ I scoffed fiercely.
‘Depends on the woman, in my opinion,’ Faustus answered. ‘But this idea will terrify the greybeards. Many are scared of their own mothers, and they will have seen Ennius being led around virtually on a leash by his fierce mama. When Sextus speaks, the frightful woman only has to stand there glowering and she will make our point herself.’
Having seen the mama, I allowed that. ‘I hate the way Ennius Verecundus smiles all the time. And I wonder, Tiberius, where are the rest of his family? Does he have other relatives? If not, be careful, or he and his mama will turn into the brave lone widow and the poor fatherless boy she lovingly does her best for … I’ll try to find out. If he does have relatives, are they too nervous to be near his domineering mother? I doubt if I can prove he lives a wild life – he doesn’t look as if she has ever let him out of doors to enjoy life at all.’
Faustus wrote that down.
We had reached the end of what we could achieve, and at that moment we were joined by the mother of Sextus Vibius. The grey-haired elderly woman had brought home-made mint cordial for us, with her own hands carrying in a tray and delicate little cups.
I had not properly met her before. She was well dressed but looked worn. She had a mentally ailing husband. He was regularly brought out to support Sextus, but never left the litter. I found myself wondering about those mortgages Sextus had had fetched from store; did his father really have legal capacity to sign financial documents? Was he truly aware of the resources being spent on his son’s campaign (was he even aware of the campaign)?
Marcella Vibia spent all day looking after him, rarely out of his company. An old-fashioned wife, she took his care upon herself, even though they had domestic staff. I had often heard him fretting and her soothing him. She looked like someone who spent her days fearing the worst.
Now she sat down with us as if glad of other company; she said the old man was asleep for once. She fanned herself gently with her hand, feeling the heat. I leaned over and served out the cordial. Then, as Marcella Vibia only smiled and sipped, I took up what had caught my attention earlier and asked, ‘Have you enjoyed being aedile yourself, Tiberius?’
He nodded, but did not elaborate. Vibia spoke up. ‘It has changed him visibly, Flavia Albia, in only a few months. The magistracy has helped this young man finally discover what he is made of.’
I could see that, having no mother of his own, Tiberius was sometimes taken under this kindly woman’s wing. She talked freely about him and he let her do so. ‘You mean,’ he said, ‘I was an idle scamp but I have learned to be useful.’
‘We were all a little surprised!’ she teased. ‘That is why we wanted to see Sextus follow in your footsteps.’
I wondered whether that meant his parents saw Vibius as an idle scamp himself … Personally, if we managed to have him elected, I could not see it turning out so well.
Then, more seriously, Vibia spoke to me: ‘I have known Tiberius Manlius from childhood; his family had the next estate to ours near Fidenae and the boys went to school together. We were so upset when his parents died – such lovely people − both carried off by the same summer plague. That meant his uncle took him, which of course was for the best, I would never say otherwise, but Tiberius went away to Rome at that early age and we almost lost sight of him.’
‘Well, we are all together in the city now,’ Faustus soothed her.
‘But Tullius has you up there on the Aventine, so far away from everyone!’
Faustus chuckled. ‘Not everyone. Flavia Albia lives there too.’
‘Obviously a great attraction,’ responded Marcella Vibia, only a little sarcastically. ‘I hope you don’t haunt the streets looking for girls to follow about, Tiberius.’
Faustus liked to tease stern women – I had seen him do it before, with my mother. Possibly he even did it to me. ‘Perk of the job! I still remember when I spotted Flavia Albia, trotting to and fro on her business. It brightened my day.’ That startled me. I liked him, but not the idea he had regularly tailed me. I could not believe it. Surely I would have noticed.
‘So you told yourself, “This is the life”?’ asked Vibia, coolly. ‘Streets full of pretty women?’
‘Well, I made sure I found out who this one was.’ Faustus turned to me, aware I was glowering. ‘Pull your claws in. Of course I did not follow you about.’
‘Scary!’ I agreed. ‘And I believe it’s a crime … So you love exercising your powers?’ I nudged, lightening the subject. He made no reply. ‘No, that’s unfair. You want Sextus to take up the torch because you believe in the city being well run, its neighbourhoods tidy and safe, its people content because they live in a decent environment, its gods honoured through good management.’
‘Tiberius is extremely capable and he needs to have something to do,’ Vibia declared. ‘His uncle has never employed him enough in their business. You know I am right,’ she told Faustus firmly, as he prepared to argue. ‘Now you have stepped away from him and learned to enjoy responsibility. You will not want to go back to having him control you. Either he must change or you must break away.’
‘We shall reach some accommodation.’ Faustus was squirming.
‘You will. You’re ready for it. And the point is,’ Vibia told him, ‘I have known you for a long time, and never seen you happier.’
Manlius Faustus bowed his head and looked embarrassed.
He was spared a further lecture because a maid came in, seeming anxious: she said the master was awake. Marcella Vibia jumped up and went to attend to her husband, as if frightened what would happen otherwise. On her way out, she ruffled the aedile’s hair fondly.
Left alone, Faustus and I sat in tricky silence.
Smoothing down his hair again, he said, ‘Vibia is a good woman. She worries about her husband constantly. He finds his condition frustrating and I slightly suspect his loss of mind and memory makes him lash out. She only rarely lets herself relax as she did just now.’
I realised that this was why Faustus had taken so much upon himself with the election. Yes, he and Sextus were old friends but neither of the parents could be much use at the moment: the father would never regain his capacity and the mother was run ragged. So Manlius Faustus had stepped in.