What did Crassus see in him? What need of him did he have? Surely it was not a friendship based solely on amity. He set my nerves on edge, and I admit I was frightened by him. In the end, I suppose I should have been more afraid of the love of a husband for his wife, and the misguided lengths to which it would drive him.
“To serve the people,” Caesar was saying, “they must elect me. To elect me, they must love me. To love me, they must see how the gods favor me. Who is more favored by the gods than the pontifex maximus?”
“Your logic is appalling. I shall have to hire out Alexander here as your tutor.” Athena forefend. “What the people love are the bribes you spread to secure the election. How else could you have won without a single grey hair on your head? You must be broke.”
“Not as destitute after the election as I am now.” Crassus cocked an eyebrow. “You know the hill above the old naval base at Misenum?”
“The tip of the cape with the fabulous view of the bay.”
“That’s the place.”
“It’s lovely. Tertulla and I sometimes go there for a stroll. We could venture there today, if you like.”
“I bought it.”
Crassus barked a short laugh. “You’re insane! Who did you borrow the money from? You didn’t come to me.”
“I expect I will. Eventually. My creditors have nothing to fear. When I earn a command, the spoils of conquest will repay all with interest. I’m thinking Hispania Ulterior.”
“So you’ll be standing for praetor.”
“No army, no glory. No glory, no gold. But I’ll need your support. Can I count on you when the time comes later this year?”
“Of course. Providing, as you plow your way up the cursus honorum, you clear an equally unobstructed path for my own interests as they arise.”
“Naturally. And you know, I’ve been thinking. As wet a sponge as Hispania may be, from what untapped source do you think the most treasure may be wrung to lay at a grateful Rome’s feet?”
“Gaul? Britannia? Egypt?”
“Parthia.”
“Parthia? Sulla once spoke to me of that wasteland of barbarism. There must be easier coffers to empty closer to home.”
Caesar shook his head. “Not a wasteland, Marcus, but a richly paved road. Think of it: Rome’s borders reaching to the Indus, perhaps beyond. What a triumph! No door would remain closed to us, no glory withheld, no honor denied to such a man as could deliver the opulence of the East. Where Alexander failed, we could succeed!”
“I admire your spirit, Gaius, but shall credit such brashness to youthful temerity. The world is already ours; have patience and enjoy what you have, or at least what you’ve borrowed. Besides, the senate would never countenance such folly.”
“I’m no fool, Marcus. A good stew needs simmering. I’ll be able to stand for consul in three years; that should lend substantial gravitas when I propose the expedition after my term expires.”
Crassus snorted and shook his head, smiling. “Already won the post, have you?”
Caesar continued as if dominus had not spoken. “Even then I doubt the senate will issue enough gold to finance the entire campaign. We’ll need additional resources, which is where you’ll come in. But I’m in no hurry. Let’s just keep it in mind, you and I.”
Crassus was about to say more when an explosion thudded through the morning air followed by a commotion of shouts from outside. We all rushed to the balcony to look down across the five terraced gardens that framed the slopes of the villa to where a jet of water arced up in a decidedly unintentional fountain.
“I’d better see to this,” Crassus said. Caesar offered to accompany him, but my master wouldn’t hear of it. “Nonsense. Stay here. Have breakfast. We’re on holiday. I won’t be long — I just want to make sure no one is hurt. I’ll take Mercurius with me. If he’s not off napping somewhere. Alexander, see to our guest’s comfort. Bring him anything he desires.”
Crassus left to check on the disturbance, and fearful for the privacy of my master’s papers, I suggested to Caesar he might be more comfortable in the triclinium. He grinned briefly and without humor, but allowed me to guide him. As I was getting him resettled in the dining room, propping pillows behind his back and exchanging his footwear for dining slippers, Tertulla found us. Her black curls were festooned with yellow ribbons. They matched the color of her tunic, whose sleeves fell just to her elbows. Each of her forearms was adorned with golden bracelets, some studded with rubies, others with sapphires. Over her tunic, she had draped a long stola the color of daisy petals.
My lady greeted Caesar politely, but when she heard where my lord had gone, asked why I was not with him. I answered that he had commanded me to stay behind to see to the young high priest’s needs. This seemed to satisfy her, and reclining on the lectus adjacent to Caesar’s, she ordered refreshments while we awaited his return. I hovered close by while fresh oysters, chilled mullet from our ponds, slices of honey melon, and Armenian apricots stewed in white wine were served.
“How is Pompeia this morning?” Tertulla asked, spearing an apricot half with the pointed end of her spoon.
“As witty as ever I have heard her,” Caesar replied.
“She’ll be joining us shortly?”
Caesar dabbed at his lips with a napkin. “She’ll have to stop snoring first.” I glared at the two dining room attendants who were both grinning recklessly.
“You are unkind, Gaius,” Tertulla said.
“I am an honest man.”
“An unlikely and unprofitable trait in a politician.”
Caesar sipped his water, then retorted, “It is you who are unkind, Lady Tertulla, for your words condemn your own husband as the most colossal liar in Rome.”
Tertulla let a small smile escape her. “Eat your breakfast, Caesar. Your wit must need frequent nourishment.”
“My stomach may growl, yet my eyes banquet to excess.”
“Then I suggest you close them, and I will have a servant guide a spoon to your open mouth.” Tertulla’s smile had vanished.
“These delicacies before us will not sate the hunger that gnaws at me.”
“I would remind you, sir, that you are a guest in my husband’s home.”
“You are right, of course. Let us speak of your husband. And your marriage. It must be tiresome to be saddled with the same old horse for so long without the variety of a new ride now and then.”
“Think yourself a stallion, Gaius Julius? You are an ass. If your rudeness did not appall, I would find your braying amusing.”
“What would it take to amuse you, Tertulla? I long to entertain you.” Caesar reached for her hand, but she slapped him away.
“Incorrigible! Do you honestly think your advances are of the slightest interest? See to your own wife.”
“I have. Why do you think I am sitting here with you?”
“Your reputation, Caesar, is like your manhood: it precedes you, crashing blindly about until it is ruined. Does it mean nothing to you that you are speaking to the wife of your benefactor? Does betrayal come so easily to you?”
“It is no betrayal to compliment your beauty and my friend’s good fortune. And now mine, for Aphrodite smiles on me.” Caesar raised his eyes to the heavens.
“And why is that?” The hem of my lady’s stola having slid slightly askew, she readjusted the garment and covered her legs below the knees.
“You imply that were I speaking to you without the constraints of marital propriety, you might succumb to my advances.”
“Deluded and incorrigible,” Tertulla said, irritated. “You make no advances. You make noise. Must I stop up my ears every time we meet? Are you not afraid I will go straight to my husband with your obnoxious behavior?”
“I fully expect you will. But you see, dear lady, Marcus loves and trusts us both with the naivete of a Vestal. He knows you would never betray him, and that I would never seriously attempt to seduce you and cuckold him. An opportunity for the perfect crime, don’t you think?”
“I know you, Gaius. You are like a child who clamors for a toy, and when he gets it, plays with it for a day, then discards it. I feel sorry for your wife, who sleeps but a few feet from where we sit.”