In justice to Pompey, I must say that his campaign against the pirates was brilliant, crushing them completely and almost without bloodshed. It was a masterpiece of organization rather than tactics, and causes me to believe that had Pompey concentrated on administration rather than conquest he might have been one of Rome's great benefactors, instead of being a mere military adventurer, who plunged the Republic into the most destructive of its civil wars.
I finally managed to get Creticus aside after the banquet. Many of the family had already gone home, and the rest of us were walking our dinner off in the formal gardens or admiring the loot from Crete. Crete is not Asia, and Creticus had brought back no such treasure as had Lucullus, but the pirate strongholds had yielded some respectable loot and the cities had possessed some very fine Greek statues, which he had appropriated. His proudest display was a trophy in the form of a Cretan column, studded with the bronze rams of pirate galleys. He had a slave who did nothing all day except polish the bronze.
I found Creticus on the broad portico of his house overlooking the gardens. I made one of those half-unconscious gestures that indicates a desire for a private audience. I had decided that I would arouse no suspicion thereby. Everyone would just assume that I was hitting him up for a loan.
"Good to see you, Decius," he said. "I am happy that your father stood up to those idiots on the matter of your name. Have you any idea what it was like, growing up in this family with the name Quintus? At a family gathering like this, somebody yells 'Quintus!' and three quarters of the males turn to see who is calling them."
"I never thought of it that way," I admitted. "Actually, sir, I am here to speak with you on behalf of the Consul Cicero. It's a matter of urgent danger to the state."
He was understandably startled. "Speak on."
Very briefly, I sketched the conspiracy for him, and Cicero's instructions to him. His expression went from incredulity to concern to calculation. I knew exactly what he was calculating: how long would it take Pompey to reach Rome once he had word?
"Sergius Catilina planning a coup?" He gave a laugh that was half snort. "The man's an embarrassment to the Republican system. It was presumptuous enough that he dared to stand for election as Consul, but this! Mark me, Decius, someone else is behind this, and I suspect Pompey."
"That I doubt, sir," I said. "Personally, I suspect Crassus."
"Even if he isn't behind it, Pompey will try to take advantage of the situation." I gave him no argument on that point. "We'll have to smash it hard and fast. You think he'll make his move this winter?"
"Assuredly. His bunglers couldn't keep their activities secret for longer than that. I think he plans to strike very soon."
"All to the good, then. It's the worst sailing weather of the year and the overland route would take Pompey far too long to do him any good. Who else is being informed?"
"The Consul will personally inform Marcius Rex," I told him.
"Excellent. Marcius is a good man and he's kept a strong cadre of his legionaries close to him. His bandits are an even meaner lot than mine. If we can keep things pacified here in Rome and the surrounding countryside, the praetores should be able to raise enough men from the municipia to control Italy handily. Tell Cicero I am at his orders, at least until the end of the year."
"I shall do so," I promised. "Meantime, Antonius Hibrida is assembling a force to accompany him to Macedonia, but they will stay in Picenum."
Again, the snort-laugh. "Cicero had better not put too much trust in that Antonine lout. He's as likely to be a party of the plot as he is to crush it."
"I doubt that," I told him. "He's too anxious to loot Macedonia."
"That could be. I hope you are right." Then we were joined by a party of family elders and I slipped away.
As I prepared to leave the villa of Creticus, it occurred to me that Cicero was being characteristically astute in dividing up the defense among so many commanders. He saw little danger to the state from Catilina and his featherbrained followers, but a great danger indeed from a possible "savior" of the Republic. Any general who found himself near Rome, in possession of a large army after a quick, victorious campaign, might well feel entitled to take advantage of the situation. It had been done before.
I took my leave and as I left the villa I was joined by the one man I least expected to seek me out: Quintus Caecilius Metellus Nepos, the tribune-elect and Pompey's legatus. I knew him only slightly and had not spoken with him in a number of years. He was only a year or two older than I, a tall, erect man who looked as if he was still in armor. He was as fair as I was dark and where I was compact, he was lanky. Only our mutual possession of the long Metellan nose proclaimed our kinship.
"Decius," he said as we wended our way down the Janiculum, "I have been meaning for some time to speak with you."
"I am always easy to find," I said. "My door is always open, both for official visits or social ones." We passed the Egyptian embassy. The Janiculum was covered with very fine villas, most of them owned by rich men who wanted to be near the seat of power but away from the crowding and squalor of the city.
"I had no desire to trouble you at home, and what I have to tell you I wished to deliver in privacy and strict confidentiality. The family gathering seemed like a good opportunity."
"And what requires such mystery?" I asked, "Surely your patron Pompey doesn't require my services to conquer the rest of the world?" His fair face flushed and I regretted my sharp words. I had no reason to dislike Nepos. "Forgive me," I said. "It's just that I detest Pompey, but everyone knows that. Please, tell me what you wished me to hear."
He stopped and we stood facing one another. It was a still day, and the only sounds came from the odd fauna on the other side of the wall surrounding the Egyptian embassy.
"Decius, I have heard, never mind how, that you are involved in something that is not merely ignoble and disgraceful, but deadly. I beg you to desist. If you go on as you have, you'll be dragged to the Tiber on a hook and the family will suffer ignominy. As a kinsman, I urge you to cease."
This shook me. If Nepos knew, then who else? And if Nepos knew, then Pompey would know about it within days. He could have his men and ships assembled in anticipation of word from the Capitol that an insurrection had begun. It could save him precious weeks at a time when travel was difficult.
"I won't ask you how you came by your information," I said, "but I accept your warning as a gesture of family loyalty. Now hear mine. Do not interfere with me. I think you know that I will do nothing to harm Rome or our constitution."
"Then what game are you playing, Decius?" I thought about that for a moment.
"Knucklebones," I answered him.
"What?"
"Quintus, is there anyone left in Rome who isn't playing some sort of game? The proceedings of the Senate and the popular assemblies have become the screen behind which we play our games. It's beginning to look as if Rome will be the prize of the best game-player."
He just looked at me, stolid and soldierly. "I think you have gone mad, Decius."
"Then I've fallen victim to the national affliction. Don't stand too close, Quintus, it's contagious."
"Good day to you then," he said and strode away stiffly.
My mind raced in a dozen different directions at once. It seemed as if Catilina's conspiracy held its secrets about as well as a basket holds water. Who had betrayed me to Nepos? Then 1 remembered that tribune-elect Bestia had been seen with Nepos. I stopped where I was and cursed myself for a fool. Bestia was Pompey's spy within the conspiracy.