"Decius, today I want you to call on Mamercus Capito and sound him out. Politically he's a nobody, but nine in ten Consuls are. More to the point, he's agreeable, which is to say he's pliable, and as an Aemilian, he's as noble as you can get in Rome without being enrolled among the gods. He'd be a suitable colleague for me and he's talked about standing for the office. See if he's amenable to a coitio, so long as he agrees that I'll be the senior colleague."
"I'll call on him at once." This was the sort of politicking I liked. It was how a great deal of our public life was carried out. Personal relationships usually had as much to do with it as party affiliations. Debates in the Senate were often just so much noise and bluster, with the real decisions reached and agreed to at dinner parties, in the baths, even in the stands at the Circus.
I hurried out, hoping to catch Capito at home. The Aemilii had been among our most illustrious families, but the line had dwindled and there were few of them left. Those of the present generation were undistinguished except for the name. Capito had plodded his way up the ladder of office, attaining seniority without military or political distinction. He was like two hundred or more of his fellow Senators: colorless functionaries who won office on the basis of family history, served as soon as age and seniority permitted, and lazed through their terms of authority with as little effort as possible, generally using position only as a way to get rich.
In short, Capito was an ideal colleague for an energetic man like Celer, who wanted to pursue the activities of his office with minimal interference. And as senior colleague, he would get the better of the proconsular provinces when he stepped down from office. By that time, the main reason men wanted to be Consul was to get their hands on the rich proconsular provinces. These were supposedly chosen by lot, but everyone knew the choice was rigged. A man who gained sufficient senatorial support would get one of the plums, while one with many enemies in the Senate got a worthless place, rich in nothing but disagreeable natives.
The Senate could come up with some real oddities for unusual Consuls. There had been the time when Pompey was given command over the entire Mediterranean and its littoral to rid us of the pirates, for instance. In later years, Caesar as Consul presided over a Senate that was not only hostile but possessed a sense of humor. Instead of a province, he was given the upkeep of Italy's roads and cattle paths. He made them regret it later, of course.
Yes, the Consulship was an office worth pursuing, although it was not without its hazards. I fully expected to be Consul someday, not because I was particularly ambitious, but because that was what you did when your name was Caecilius Metellus. Not that anyone ever accused me of being a man who lazed through office on his family name. No amiable political hack ever weathered as many murder attempts as I did. A man's seriousness as a public official can usually be gauged by the number and homicidal habits of his enemies.
I reached the house of Capito just as his morning callers were leaving and he himself was on his way to an annual sacrifice given by the Aemilii in memory of some victory or other. I knew him only slightly, but he greeted me hospitably and professed himself glad to see me again. I hinted at political business and he invited me to dinner at his house that evening.
Things were shaping up well, and now I had the rest of the day to myself. It was a short walk to the Forum, where I wandered about, soaking up sun and the attentions of a good number of publicani. Most of these were builders, but one intriguing fellow had a novel item to selclass="underline" a new design of shields for the legions.
"It's much better than the old scutum," he explained earnestly. "Just as thick and protective, but cut off straight at the top and bottom."
"It's hard to get soldiers to accept something new," I said. "What's the advantage?"
"We've given quite a few to the ludi in Campania, and the gladiators there say it's a much better fighting design than the old oval style. It's lighter and gives better vision."
"Gladiators don't worry much about arrows and javelins," I said doubtfully. "There's more to warfare than single combat, you know."
"Nonsense, sir," he protested. "A man fighting will always hold his shield just below eye level. With the new design, even less of the soldier's body is exposed."
"But if you give a shield a flat bottom," I pointed out, "the soldiers on guard will rest them on the ground and lean on them and go to sleep. Every officer knows that."
He sighed with exasperation. "But that's why centurions have vinestocks to beat their soldiers with. And what legion ever needs more than one exemplary beheading a year for sleeping when the enemy is near? That's all it takes to keep the lads alert. Now, sir, if you'll put in a good word with your father the Censor, I am prepared to offer the state a very reasonable rate. My shops can outfit a full legion every year, complete with a cheaper version for the auxiliaries."
"I'll speak to him," I said, "but I don't think you'll have much luck. He still thinks the Marian reforms are an outrage. How much per shield?"
"Fifty-five denarii for the legionary model, thirty for the auxiliary."
"That seems steep," I said.
"We're not talking about shoddy materials here, sir. We are talking about first-rate plywood made of seasoned limewood strips and Egyptian glue, backed with the finest felt and faced with rawhide; and on top of that, seasoned bullhide bleached almost white so as to take whatever dye or paint the legion wants to add. Ironmongery of the finest workmanship, sir: boss, rivets and grips and a complete bronze rim. Now tell me that's not worth fifty-five denarii."
"I won't argue the details of your trade," I said. "How does the auxiliary version differ?"
"Identical except the cover is plain brown cowhide and the rim is stitched rawhide instead of bronze. Just between you and me, it's as good a shield, but we both know that the legions will revolt if they see the auxiliaries getting gear as pretty as the legions have."
"That is true," I agreed.
"I'll tell you what: I'll drop the price twenty denarii if they offer the old shields in trade. I can sell those to the Egyptians. But I want the right to refuse any that are too cut up for resale."
I promised to do what I could, and he let me know that he would be not only grateful but generous. As it turned out, the legions tried out the new design and liked it, but they didn't buy new shields. They just cut the tops and bottoms off the old ones. There were few fools among the military purchasing officers.
After this encounter I went to a stall and bought a light lunch of sausage, fried onions and chopped olives seasoned with pungent garum and wrapped in flat, unleavened bread. I was washing this down with a cup of watered wine when I saw something over the rim of my cup that made me pause.
A few stalls down, someone was coming from one of the witches' booths. It was a very young man, old enough to shave and wear the toga, but only by a matter of months. He seemed oddly familiar, yet I could not quite place him. He glanced from side to side guiltily as he emerged from the booth. He wore the red sandals with the ivory crescent at the ankle that only patricians could wear. This and some half-familiar cast to his countenance finally placed him for me: He was one of the little group surrounding Clodius that morning. He was, in fact, the one who had spoken and revealed himself to be young enough to think that a group of highborn women couldn't be up to something really unsavory. This was too good an opportunity to miss. I walked over to him, taking care to approach him from behind.
"Good day!" I said loudly. He all but jumped out of his toga as he spun around, white-faced. He cast a frantic glance toward the witch's booth, clearly terrified that I might have seen him leaving it. I clapped him on the shoulder to show that I harbored no suspicions at all. "I saw you at Celer's house this morning, but we weren't introduced."