'A sensitive commission.'
'So Isauricus warned me. I named a steep price and told him I'd keep my mouth shut.'
The Ultimate Decree had been invoked by the Senate on only a handful of occasions in my lifetime. It declared a state of emergency and empowered the consuls to use any means necessary to protect the state from immediate danger. Cicero had convinced the Senate to invoke it against Catilina and his so-called conspirators and had used it to justify the execution of unarmed prisoners (one of them being Marc Antony's stepfather-yet another reason for Antony's long-standing hatred of Cicero). More recently Pompey and his faction had invoked the Ultimate Decree against Caesar, goading him to cross the Rubicon. Why would Isauricus want copies of the Ultimate Decree drawn up unless he planned to invoke it? And against whom might he wish to declare it, except Marcus Caelius?
I looked at Didius. 'And did you?'
'Did I what?'
'Did you keep your mouth shut?'
Didius cast a glance at Cassandra and Rupa. They were both staring raptly at the spectacle below, but he lowered his voice nonetheless. He shrugged and pointed toward Caelius. 'What can I say? I've always liked Caelius. He's commissioned a lot of books from me over the years! Likes to give them to friends as gifts. Slim scrolls of erotic poetry, that sort of thing; impeccable taste. I don't always like his politics, but I like him. This latest campaign of his, carrying on against the bankers and landlords-it's all so much wind, if you ask me. Nothing will come of it, but I still admire his spirit. So I decided to do him a favor. Whispered a discreet word in the right ear. Caelius got the message. I thought we'd all wake today to the news that he had fled the city, but there you see him. I suppose he thinks he can somehow use the moment to his advantage. Maybe he's being clever; but if you ask me, he's cutting it awfully close. You can't say he lacks nerve! But we shall see if he's still alive come nightfall.'
'A moment ago you said Caelius had gone the distance. What did you mean?'
'He's talking about new legislation again. No more half measures, he says. The time has come for immediate and complete abolition of all debts. Wipe the ledgers clean! Start over fresh! Can you imagine the chaos that would cause? But there's no shortage of people who like the idea. Look at them out there, swirling around Caelius and chanting his name so loudly you can't even hear him speak. The mob loves him-the way they used to love Clodius and, before him, Catilina.'
'And Caesar, not so long ago,' I said.
Didius shook his head. 'People fear Caesar. But does anyone really love him except his soldiers? Mind you, I don't fault Caesar for refusing to pander to the rabble. A demagogue like Caelius can promise everyone the moon, but if he suddenly found himself really in charge of things, with a treasury to fill and a war to wage and a grain dole to hand out, he'd change his tune overnight.'
I nodded toward the crowd below. 'What are we seeing down there, Didius? Has Isauricus announced the Ultimate Decree against Caelius?'
'Not yet. The Senate's debating it now. There may be an announcement at any moment. I think Isauricus hoped it would be a surprise so they could take Caelius with no trouble. But now the word's out, and it's too late for that.'
'Why today? What prompted Isauricus to take action? Did he know that Caelius was about to announce this plan to abolish debts?'
'Who knows which player blinked first and made the other jump? Something like this was bound to happen; the struggle between Caelius and the other magistrates has been building for months. If you ask me, I think Isauricus is acting now because he happens to have some troops available to him. They arrived outside Rome a few days ago on their way to join Caesar. Isauricus persuaded them to stay for a while. With those troops on hand, he has the muscle to use against Caelius if he needs it, so now's the time for Isauricus to bite a stick and pull out the thorn in his side. If the Senate passes the Ultimate Decree-and who can doubt they will? — Caelius has only a few more hours of freedom, maybe only a few more minutes, so he's cast his final throw of the dice. He's counting on this wild promise of debt abolition to be his Venus Throw, the one play that could turn the game in his favor.'
Listening to Didius, I felt the little thrill a man gets when he lets himself imagine that the impossible might actually take place. What if Caelius did succeed in sparking a revolution against Isauricus and Trebonius and the other magistrates left in place by Caesar? What if he upset everyone's expectations by making himself-not Pompey, not Caesar-the new master of Rome? What if a single man, channeling the fury of the Roman mob, could abruptly turn the world upside down, sweeping the rich out of their houses and lifting the poor up in their stead? To do that, eventually Caelius would have to win some legions to his side. It could happen. If Caesar were to be killed and his troops left leaderless, they might be drawn to a charismatic leader with bold ideas, a man like Caelius…
It was all a fantasy, of course, frightening and fascinating to imagine, but ultimately unthinkable. Then I reminded myself that hardly more than a year ago, it had been unthinkable that Caesar would dare to cross the Rubicon and march on Rome like an invading barbarian.
'Look there!' said Didius. 'My eyes are weak, Gordianus, but don't I see men coming from the direction of the Senate House?'
'You do indeed, Didius. Armed men, a whole troop of them, scattering the mob before them. And farther back I believe I see a cordon of lictors with Isauricus in their midst.' I couldn't tell whether there had been any bloodshed, but the men scattering before the armed troops were screaming and yelling, making such a noise that it carried above the raucous chanting and cheering of the mob around Marcus Caelius. Caelius himself appeared to hear the noise, for I saw him raise his hands for silence. A moment later, all heads turned in the direction of the Senate House. The cries of the fleeing mob echoed about the Forum, along with another noise, for not all those who fled did so passively; some were casting stones at the soldiers, who responded by drawing into tortoise formation with shields locked around them and above their heads. The flying stones pelting the shields made a racket like heavy hail against a roof. The noise heartened the mob around Caelius. They began to chant: 'Abolish all debts! Bankrupt the bankers! Abolish all debts! Bankrupt the bankers!'
I looked on, aghast. In Massilia, during the worst of the siege, I had witnessed something similar-citizens casting stones at their own soldiers. For any city to reach such a level of disorder was a terrifying thing. To see it happen in Rome was appalling.
Suddenly I heard a roar of laughter from the crowd around Caelius. He was strutting across the raised platform holding up his chair of state. I squinted, trying to see what they were laughing at. It was the same deliberately plain, modestly ornamented chair Caelius had used before, the one that Isauricus had broken in a rage. The seat had been mended, not with wood, but with leather straps. In a flash I caught Caelius's little joke, which was typically convoluted, cruel, and vulgar. The one anecdote everybody knew about Isauricus had to do with his father's temper, and the fact that Isauricus had received regular beatings with a leather strap when he was a boy. When others needled him about it, Isauricus tried to make a virtue of his father's abuse, saying such discipline had toughened him up. Gave him a tough bottom, people would say behind Isauricus's back. For breaking his chair, Caelius had taken revenge on Isauricus by mending the chair with leather straps-a reminder to everyone of the legendary abuse of Isauricus's father and of the consul's own uncontrolled fit of temper. With Isauricus and a company of armed troops quickly approaching, Caelius, defiant to the last possible moment, was holding up the chair for the crowd's amusement-his way of tweaking his nose at the Ultimate Decree.
Above the roaring laughter and the hail of stones on shields-still distant, but drawing closer by the moment-I heard Caelius's stentorian parting words: 'Shame on Caesar's lackeys who dare to call themselves elected magistrates! I give up my office! I give up my chair of state! But I shall return!' With that he hurled his chair of state high in the air. It landed in the midst of the crowd. Men swarmed to claim pieces as a souvenir. They tore the chair apart and snapped leather straps over their heads.
When I looked back at the tribunal, Caelius had vanished.
'But where…?' I whispered.
'Into thin air,' said Didius, 'like a sorcerer!'
A few moments later the armed troops pushed their way into the crowd around the tribunal. Isauricus arrived, surrounded by his lictors, looking furious.
'Abolish all debts! Bankrupt the bankers!' cried the mob.
Caelius was nowhere to be seen.
I glanced at Cassandra, who was watching the spectacle below as raptly as the rest of us. It seemed to me
