the Gallic Triumph when his soldiers teased him for his youthful liaison with Nicomedes. I saw him lift his gaze to the dignitaries' box and exchange a look of consternation with Cleopatra. These two should have been sharing the afterglow of the crowd's reaction to the golden statue of the queen; instead, they were being subjected to acclamations for Arsinoe.
Up in the stands, we were all on our feet, and my own family members had joined in the chant. Fortunately, we were on the side calling to spare the princess; I doubt that my wife, daughter, or daughter-in-law would have joined in calling for the death of Ganymedes, but Davus might have done so, and the bloodthirsty slave boys would not have hesitated. I myself remained silent.
As if trying to make sense of the crowd's fervor, Caesar ran his eyes slowly over the reviewing stands, looking from face to face. He saw my family, chanting with the rest; he saw me, standing silent. For an instant, his eyes met mine. He had no way of knowing that it was my adopted son who had set off the crowd's reaction.
The triumphal chariot eventually passed from view, followed by rank upon rank of veterans from the Egyptian campaign. Infected by the crowd's enthusiasm, even the soldiers took up the deafening chant: 'Spare the princess, kill the eunuch! Spare the princess, kill the eunuch!'
'Oh, Rupa!' I whispered to myself. 'What have you done?'
XIV
'Rupa, what were you thinking? You could be dead right now! The lictors could have dragged you up to the Carcer along with those wretched Egyptians and dropped you into the Tullianum, and we would never have seen you alive again!'
The sun had set. The moon had risen. Occasionally, here in my lamplit garden, I could hear snatches of music and revelry from the Forum, where the feast that followed the triumph still continued, with endless Egyptian delicacies on offer. But I was in no mood to eat and drink. Every time I thought of the terrible risk Rupa had taken that day, my blood ran cold.
'But, Papa,' objected Diana, 'what did Rupa do that was against the law?'
'I'm pretty sure that a citizen is not allowed to interrupt the progress of a triumph.'
'He didn't interrupt it. He took part in it! People do that sort of thing all the time. They run onto the path to taunt the prisoners, or to get a closer look at some trophy, or to plant a kiss on a soldier's cheek. We've all seen such things. Unless Caesar has passed some law against kissing a girl's toe-'
'Rupa embarrassed the dictator!'
'I'm pretty sure that's not against the law, either, Papa. Caesar's not a king. We don't live and breathe at his pleasure.'
'Not yet,' I muttered.
'And nothing untoward happened. The lictors came running, they threw Rupa off the pathway, he disappeared back into the crowd, and that was the end of it. Apparently, Caesar doesn't even know it was Rupa who saved the princess.'
'Saved the princess!' I uttered the statement incredulously, amazed at the enormity of it. Arsinoe had been spared, and Rupa was the man most responsible for saving her. 'A foreign-born freedman does not go about thwarting the will of a Roman dictator and nullifying a death sentence ordered by the Roman state. Such things do not happen!'
'But apparently they do, Papa.'
'It was a mad act.'
'I think it was terribly heroic,' insisted Diana.
'So do I,' said Bethesda.
The two of them converged on Rupa and planted kisses on his cheeks. He had been frowning and staring at the ground while I lectured him, but now he smiled and hugged himself. All my admonishments were for nothing.
'Besides,' said Diana, 'Rupa acted purely on impulse. There was nothing deliberate about what he did. He couldn't possibly foresee the outcome of his actions.'
I was not so sure about this. In earlier days, Rupa and his sister, Cassandra, had been street performers in Alexandria. He was not an actor, just a mime, playing burly silent parts; nevertheless, he must have learned how to anticipate and manipulate the reactions of an audience. Bowing before Arsinoe and kissing her foot had played adroitly upon the crowd's sentiment, and the result had been just what Rupa desired. At the conclusion of his triumph, Caesar had bowed to the will of the people; criers announced that the princess would be spared and sent into exile, while Ganymedes and the other captives were duly executed.
I gazed hard into Rupa's unblinking eyes. His wits were on the simple side of average, that was certain, but because he was a mute, and brawny as well, had I underestimated his native intelligence? He might not possess the verbal capabilities of a Cicero, able to sway a jury with well-chosen words, yet he had proven himself able to rouse a multitude with a single, bold, perfectly timed gesture.
'Besides, Papa, you wanted to see Arsinoe spared, just like everyone else. Admit it!'
'The poor girl!' Bethesda shook her head. 'An Egyptian princess, at the mercy of those Roman brutes- terrible!' More than ever since our return from Egypt, my wife loved to play the part of the cosmopolitan Alexandrian appalled by Roman barbarity.
'Poor girl?' I threw up my hands. 'Arsinoe is a conniving royal brat, responsible for hundreds, maybe thousands, of deaths back in Egypt. She put one of her own generals to death! She's a viper, no less than her sister.'
'Even so, Caesar had no business threatening to execute the child, just to show off,' insisted Bethesda. 'It did him no credit. It made him look bad, parading that poor girl in chains.'
I had to agree. And, when all was said and done, I was not sorry that Rupa had acted on his impulse.
'Let us speak no more of the matter,' I said. 'And let there be no boasting about this to the other women in the market, do you understand? You may praise Rupa all you like here in the privacy of our home, but you're not to whisper a word of this to anyone else. If Caesar were to find out…'
'Yes, Papa?' said Diana. 'What might the big, bad dictator do?'
'Let's pray that we don't find out.'
Caesar had survived his first two triumphs. The only damage he had sustained was to his dignity, and that was minor. The teasing from his soldiers only served to endear him to them all the more, while his clemency to Arsinoe made him appear not weak and vacillating but decisive and wise, and won him even greater favor with the crowd.
If not from the Gauls or the Egyptians, or from disaffected Antony or ambitious Fulvia, or from love-addled Cicero or glib Brutus, then from what quarter came the threat to Caesar that Hieronymus had hinted at? Rather than feeling relieved that the dictator had survived his first two triumphs unscathed, I felt more anxious than before. What danger might Caesar face in the next two triumphs?
First would come the celebration of his recent victory in Asia, where King Pharnaces of Pontus had taken advantage of the civil strife between Pompey and Caesar to reclaim the kingdom of his father, the great Mithradates. Pharnaces's ruthlessness had been shocking, at least to Roman sensibilities; in conquering city after city, he not only plundered the property of a great many Roman citizens but also made a practice of castrating all the youngest and best-looking males, including Roman citizens, before selling them into slavery. News of these atrocities caused outrage throughout the Roman world, but Pharnaces's successes had gone unchecked until Caesar himself, after settling affairs in Egypt, moved to reassert Roman rule in the region. Pharnaces was routed at the battle of Zela, fled for his life, and was eventually captured and killed by one of his own treacherous underlings.
With Pharnaces dead and largely unmourned, it was hard to imagine who might choose the Asian Triumph as a venue to try to kill Caesar. But hadn't Hieronymus speculated that danger would come from an unexpected quarter?
Late that night, looking through Hieronymus's writings for links to the upcoming Asian Triumph, I came
