“So you think Antonius is doing the right thing?” was my next question, his eyes narrowing as he thought about it.
“No,” he said finally. “I don’t think he’s doing the right thing, I think he’s doing the only thing that he can do under the circumstances. Until he solidifies his power base, and has a better idea of how much support Brutus and the rest of that bunch have, he really has no other choice.”
“But the people are on Antonius’ side, that has to count for something,” I argued.
“That's true,” Pollio conceded. “Pullus, don't take offense when I say this. The people of your class may have numbers, but they don't have money, and money is power. The patricians, and the wealthy equestrians, especially those who live outside of Rome, have the money, and therefore, they have the clout.”
“I’m actually eligible for the equestrian class,” I do not know exactly why I chose that moment to say this, other than my pride was stung by his words, no matter how true they may have been.
Pollio’s bushy grey eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? I didn't know that, Pullus. Well, er, congratulations I suppose,” he said awkwardly. “However, that really doesn't change things; however wealthy you may be, you're one man, and your riches are nothing compared to what the boni can marshal to further their cause.”
I sighed; this conversation had given me a headache, yet I had to admit grudgingly that I saw Pollio’s point, but I still needed some sort of assurance from him about Antonius’ intentions, which he could not give.
“Ultimately, as I said at the beginning of this conversation, Marcus Antonius is his own man, with his own ambitions,” Pollio finished. “He's going to do what’s best for Antonius, no matter what.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Pollio, of course, was entirely accurate, at least in his assessment of Antonius’ motives. While the common people and the veterans of Caesar’s army that had retired were grief-stricken, showing their sorrow by a spontaneous demonstration in the Forum and attempting to burn down some of the assassins’ homes, Antonius took a conciliatory stance towards the men who called themselves The Liberators, even if nobody else afforded them that title. He issued a public proclamation granting the assassins amnesty, which was hugely unpopular in the army, while I found myself making offerings of thanks to the gods that I had such a green Legion under my command, for if it had been composed of Caesar’s veterans, I do not know what would have happened. Even so, the men were extremely unsettled, while the tone was set by the remaining veterans, as whatever grievances they had had towards Caesar seemed to have evaporated with his death.
One night, I had Scribonius and Balbus as guests for dinner, and I broached the subject with them. “Do you think it’s odd that the veterans are so worked up over Caesar’s death after most of them mutinied against him?” I asked the both of them as I poured them another cup of wine.
“Not really.” Balbus shrugged. “Whatever grievances they had with Caesar, ultimately they loved him as a father. I don’t know how it was with your father, Pullus, but I loved and hated mine, all at the same time.”
I had no desire or intention of discussing my relationship with my father with either Scribonius or Balbus, but I took his point.
Considering this, I then asked the both of them, “So what do we do? Do we let them talk, or do we clamp down on them?”
Scribonius frowned as he thought about it. Then, “I don’t think trying to shut them up is going to work, it will just make them, the veterans anyway, more resentful. They need to be able to express their anger.”
Balbus shook his head immediately. “I disagree. The youngsters are going to follow the lead of the veterans, and if you let the veterans continue to moan about Caesar, you set an example that will dog this Legion for the rest of the time these men are under the standards.”
After listening to both, I agreed with Balbus, telling him and Scribonius to pass the word quietly to those veterans the most vocal in their anger that it was time for them to shut their mouths. I must admit I was somewhat torn about it, given that the men were just expressing my own feelings, but I knew that Balbus was right.
~ ~ ~ ~
Fortunately, a quiet word to a few key men was all that was needed and while the anger remained, it was muted to little more than a whisper around the fires. A few days later, at the end of April, we received word that Brutus and Cassius, no longer able to bear the pressure of constantly watching their backs and homes, had fled Rome, with Antonius aiding Brutus at least by passing a law that enabled him as urban Praetor to be absent from the city for more than the ten days prescribed by law. Antonius also introduced a law that abolished the office of Dictator, along with a measure that ratified all of Caesar’s acts prior to his death, along with his proposed measures. However, it was on Antonius’ say-so alone as to what Caesar had proposed to do and what he had actually begun implementing, since he had seized Caesar’s private papers immediately after his death. The granting of citizenship to Sicily was one example, so in effect Antonius was every bit as powerful as Caesar in this respect. Oh, he was treading a very careful path and as time passed, and grudgingly I had to admit that Pollio had been right about Antonius, at least as far as what he was doing in the early tumultuous days after the assassination. As difficult a situation as it was, we still had to continue training the men, although we now had nowhere to march to, so we began incorporating day-long marches out into the countryside. Compounding our problems was that we had no idea when or where we would be marching, or who we would be fighting when we got wherever we were going. What all the officers feared was that we would be fighting against Romans again. Still, that did not keep us from training our men to the best of our ability.
~ ~ ~ ~
The next momentous event occurred when word arrived about the contents of Caesar’s will. Once again, I found myself sitting in Pollio’s office, but this time he was more animated than I had seen him in weeks, though not in a good way.
I had barely sat down when he waved yet another scroll in my face. “Do you know what this says?” he demanded. I assured him that I had no idea what it contained. “It’s the contents of Caesar’s will, or at least the most important parts.”
We had been expecting to hear of it for some time before this, so it was not a surprise that we were finally receiving word about it, but what followed was not just very much a surprise, but a huge shock.
“Caesar’s heir is named,” Pollio continued, and I nodded, fully expecting to hear the name Marcus Antonius, since he was really the only logical choice.
I supposed Decimus Brutus was another possibility, but I was sure that his part as one of The Liberators notwithstanding, he was not a likely candidate.
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would hear the name that Pollio uttered, and so shocked was I that I made him repeat himself. “You heard me correctly. Gaius Octavius is Caesar’s principal heir. His other nephews Lucius Pinarius and Quintus Pedius get a pittance, at least in terms of proportion, though they'll still be wealthy men, but Caesar named Gaius Octavius not only his main heir, but adopted him as his son as well, so he inherits the name, which in some ways is more important.” Pollio smiled bitterly, “Though I doubt he’ll live long enough to make any use of it.”
I sat there, stunned, thinking that I just needed to learn not to expect anything to make sense so that I was not constantly having my head spin with all that kept happening. “Antonius will kill him,” I blurted the first thing that came into my head, and Pollio nodded in agreement.
“I expect so, and I can’t say that I blame him. I admire….admired,” Pollio amended, “Caesar a great deal, but I think he did a great wrong to Antonius in this. And I think that in naming Octavius as heir, he has guaranteed that Roman will be fighting Roman.”