'You did right to persuade me,' Caesar said as we approached the Theatre of Pompey. 'But Calpurnia was pressing. She has been in a strange mood, almost unbalanced in its intensity. Now that Caesar is away from her, Caesar is himself again.'
I slipped from his side as we entered the theatre. Cassius smiled at me. Now that the moment had arrived he was calm as the sky on a windless night. He held Markie to his side. One glance at Markie's face told me this precaution was unnecessary. He had screwed up his courage to a point where he could find release only in action. Then his hand tightened on Cassius' arm. I followed his gaze, and saw that Popilius Laena had approached Caesar and was deep in conversation with him. Impatient murmurs ran round the Senate. Caesar's uncle, Julius Cotta, fussed with the rim of his toga. They had been kept waiting a long time, many of them. I looked about me. Cicero was not present.
Trebonius had seized Antony's attention. After a few minutes' talk, they left the theatre.
Caesar smiled. Popilius Laena gave a little titter and backed away.
Metellus Cimber approached Caesar and knelt before him. He spoke at some length, quietly, so that his words did not carry to me.
Caesar frowned, made a dismissive gesture. Cimber seized the hem of his robe and Caesar twitched it free.
Cassius and Markie now closed on him. Cassius knelt, supporting Cimber's plea, as we had arranged. Markie stood a little apart. He had refused to kneel.
Again Caesar swept his arm across his face in a gesture of refusal. It wouldn't have mattered if he had assented, but that refusal of so reasonable a request was as the ultimate justification of our intent. I drew near enough to hear Caesar say:
'No, and forever no. The decree of banishment stands. If you all kneel before me and fawn on me, I reject your demands as I would dismiss a mongrel cur. When will you learn that Caesar is constant as the northern star, fixed like none other in the firmament?'
'When will you learn that men are still men?' said Casca, and stabbed him in the neck.
Cassius was next to strike, then Markie aimed a blow. It ran through Caesar's toga and the dagger stuck there.
Caesar struggled to his feet, but we were all upon him.
'This for Pompey…'
'Dictator for life…'
'Tyrant…'
'For my brother…'
He caught my eye. For a moment horror and reproach filled the theatre.
'Not you, my son.'
I thrust my dagger under the breast-bone.
Amazement crept over his countenance. He pulled the toga over his head, and slumped to the marble. His hands clutched at the pedestal of Pompey's statue. Even as he lay there, others of our friends drew near and stabbed him. The body kicked and was still, as the blood ran across the floor towards the rostrum.
We stood in a ring around the body. I think we were all astonished, that it had been so easy.
One moment, Caesar; and the next, a piece of bleeding flesh, authority and majesty departed, like a door slammed by the wind. The tune of the piper who had lured us into Italy sounded a moment in my imagination, and was still.
A senator who had not been of our party picked up a fallen dagger and knelt over the thing that had been Caesar to add his wound to the many it had received. Cassius detained him.
'We are not butchers,' he said, 'and you had no part in the danger. Therefore, no part either in the honour.'
My left arm was bleeding, gashed by a blow aimed at Caesar. I bound it up with a rag.
Markie advanced into the open space where the actors played, and raised his voice:
'Do not be alarmed, Conscript Fathers. We intend no harm to any other man. I pray you, keep your seats.'
He might as well have bid the wind be still. They scrambled for the door, jostling each other in their fright and anxiety to be clear of the place.
In a moment we were left alone with Caesar's body.
Trebonius entered.
'Where is Antony?'
'Fled in terror, though I assured him he was in no danger. But there is general consternation, panic even, in the streets. I could not restrain Antony.'
Markie said, 'Very well. We have done what we set out to do. Let us now go, bearing our bleeding swords, to the Capitol, and proclaim to Rome that liberty has been restored.'
He spoke like an actor. I did not protest. It was for this moment that Cassius had been so determined that Markie should be one of us: we would see if he was right.
I was the last to leave the scene. I looked back at the body: so small and insignificant; so many battles won, so much distance travelled, so much glory, so great renown: all silenced, expunged, concluded in a flurry of knives.
I almost longed for tears that I might let one fall on Caesar.
I stood over what had been the Perpetual Dictator.
'Cruel necessity,' I said, and followed the others into the grey of the March morning.
Chapter 23
Markie led us from the theatre to the Capitol to give thanks to Jupiter for the deliverance of the city from tyranny. He behaved as if he was enacting a ceremony. In its way it was impressive. I should have preferred that he realised we had in reality effected a coup d'etat, which we still required to secure. Our advantage would be brief if we did not seize it immediately. Some of my friends and colleagues brandished their bloody daggers and cried out, 'Liberty! Liberty!'
For my part I chose to remain silent and watchful. The crowd fell away on either side as we passed, silent, shaken, perhaps reproachful. That did not disturb me. I had never supposed the rabble would applaud us.
We rendered thanks to Jupiter and the other gods of the Republic. No doubt that was suitable. And then we waited, uncertain how to act. It was still only the fifth hour of the day.
'Is there any news of Antony?'
Cicero appeared, wafted there by rumour.
He congratulated us on having set Rome free.
'But I wish you had consulted me,' he said. 'You should have realised my advice would have been invaluable.'
He did not remain long, being uncertain, I suppose, how things would turn out, and reluctant to be too closely associated with the consequences of an act in which he had had no share.
Other sympathisers made equally brief appearances, nervous, divided between elation and terror.
Casca yawned, and sent a slave in search of wine.
'What do we do now, eh?' he said. 'Buggered if I know,' he added.
I was dizzy from my wound, unable to think clearly. Two ravens rose from the roof of the Temple of Jupiter and flapped their slow way towards the Tiber.
Dolabella appeared arrayed in the insignia of the consulship which in other circumstances he would only have assumed when Caesar departed for the Balkans. He, too, neither knew what to say nor whether he should be with us.
'Have you seen Antony? Where is he? Does anyone know what has become of him?'
Below us in the Forum the crowd was thickening. A confused babble rose to our ears. I searched for a note of rejoicing.
