covered by an enormous map made of sheepskins stitched together and dyed in various colours to show the various tribes of the Gauls, with pictures to show their cities and strongholds. What sort of place could Lutetia be? Or Alesia? Or Cenabum, which for some reason was circled in red? Was the island of Britannia really as huge as the maps showed it to be? Meto had been to all these places, even to Britannia, where the barbarians paint themselves blue. He had learned the language of the Bituriges and the Helvetii, whose very names I could hardly pronounce. I had travelled much in the East, but never in Gaul. Meto had entered a world and an existence I could only wonder at.
And he had fallen into the orbit of a man whose force of personality I could only wonder at, as well. Gaius Julius Caesar was unique among men. I have never met anyone else whose intellectual and physical vigour were so keenly evident even in a glance or the exchange of a few brief words. I had never had serious dealings with Caesar, as I had with Crassus and Catilina, and now Pompey, but I could see that he abundantly possessed an element in his personality which they too possessed, a drive for power and for what men call greatness. But Caesar seemed somehow accessible in a way the others were not; he was not as frighteningly single-minded as Crassus, or as elusively seductive as Catilina, or as intimidating as Pompey. He seemed at once more than human, and yet vulnerable, a man who could both divinely inspire his men and make them feel protective of him. He was quite human in his vanity, at least; he had begun to bald at an early age (he was now in his late forties), and according to Meto was still self-conscious about his lack of hair.
He was dictating to a secretary as we entered, but stood and opened his arms when he saw Meto. He gave him a warm embrace and kissed him on the lips. 'So, Meto, you shall not be deserting me after all?'
'I shall not be leaving for Rome, if that's what you mean. My father and brother are safe and sound, as you can see.'
'Ah, Gordianus! And…' Caesar hesitated for only a heartbeat. 'And Eco. The three of you look so little alike. That always confuses me for a moment, when I see you all together. But of course the sons were chosen and adopted by their father, and thus are like him in spirit, not in flesh. It was a false alarm then, the rumour that they had been kidnapped?'
'Not false at all,' said Meto. 'They made their escape only a few days ago, and only a few miles from here.'
'That must be quite a tale. You must tell me all about it.' Caesar indicated that we should sit.
'But you must be very busy, General,' I said, thinking of Cicero waiting in the courtyard.
'Not particularly. I shall be heading back to Gaul in a few days, but preparations proceed without me. I'm filling the time by dictating a new chapter of my memoirs. That little skirmish with the Eburones last year — you must remember it well, — Meto.' He reached out to touch Meto's face. Meto returned his smile. The moment seemed disconcertingly intimate, until I realized that Caesar had brushed his fingers against a very slight scar on Meto's cheek.
'My father and brother were waylaid on the Appian Way,' said Meto. 'He was doing some work for Pompey, looking into the murder of Publius Clodius.'
'Really? Now that is interesting. What did you discover, Gordianus?'
I looked at Meto, chagrined that he should bring my affairs so blatantly to Caesar's attention. But I kept no secrets from Meto, and Meto evidently kept no secrets from Caesar. 'I was merely able to confirm what everyone in Rome already seemed to know — that Clodius was killed by Milo's slaves after an altercation on the Appian Way.'
'As simple as that? I presume you'll be giving Pompey a somewhat more comprehensive report. But I've made you uncomfortable, Gordianus. I have no intention of interrogating you. Settling the matter of Milo's guilt and punishment falls to Pompey, not to me, and quite properly so. Milo was his man, after all, until Milo became Cicero's man. Let Pompey have the headache of disposing of Milo and restoring order in the city. I have a greater task ahead of me: restoring order in Gaul. The chaos begun by the murder of Publius Clodius has reached even there. Remarkable, isn't it, the repercussions that can follow upon a single death?'
'Please explain,' I said.
'Certain rebellious elements among the tribes, hearing of the strife in Rome, concluded that I would be detained in Ravenna indefinitely, unable to rejoin my troops. They seized the opportunity to instigate a revolt, which has spread rapidly. The first blow was struck at Cenabum-you cansee it on the map there. The man I personally appointed to run the Roman trading post was murdered and his property plundered. A young Avernian named Vercingetorix seems to think the time is right to make himself king of the Gauls. He's already managed to unite a great many tribes under him. Worst of all, he's cut me off from the main body of my troops. It poses something of a puzzle, how I shall reach my men.' Caesar studied the map and suddenly seemed very distant from us. 'So you see, a simple murder on the Appian Way has already had profound consequences far beyond the death of a single man. Publius Clodius in death has caused even more havoc than he caused in life, and Milo has wielded his greatest influence on the course of the world as a killer instead of a consul.' Caesar looked away from the map. 'But you haven't yet told me the story of your misfortune, Gordianus.'
'There's not much to tell. We were waylaid in the vicinity of the Monument of Basilius by men whose faces we never properly saw, bound inside sacks and transported to a place which turned out to be somewhere near Ariminum. We weren't too badly treated. When we made our escape, one of our keepers was killed and the other escaped. Unfortunately, I doubt that we could find the place again.' 'Was there a request for ransom?'
'Apparendy not, though someone did send my wife an anonymous note saying that we would not be harmed and would eventually be released.'
'How curious. Do you think this episode was connected with your investigations for Pompey?' 'Perhaps.'
Caesar laughed. 'You're a reticent fellow, Gordianus. I respect a man who's able to say no more than he should — that's rare. It's obvious you were never trained as an orator! I should like to think I might call on you myself some day, if I ever need a man of your talents and discretion.'
'That would be an honour, Caesar.'
He smiled for a moment, then gazed at the map again with an abstracted look. The recounting of my misadventures had distracted him for a moment, but now his attention had returned to the corcerning problems of Gaul.
'Shall we leave you now, Caesar?' said Meto.
'I do need to return to my work now, yes. I'm glad to learn that you shall remain beside me, Meto, especially in the days to come. It was good to see you again, Gordianus, and you, too, Eco. I wish you both a safe and uneventful journey back to Rome. And Gordianus…'
'Yes, Caesar?'
'When you report to Gnaeus Pompey, say that you spoke to me and tell him, if you would, that I send him my warmest regards. He was my son-in-law, you know, and still would be if ill fortune had not intervened. He should have had a son from Julia, and I a grandson. But the Fates deemed otherwise and robbed us both.'
'I'll do as you ask, Caesar.'
The secretary called for the guard, who came to escort us out. The man paused. 'Shall I show the others in now, Caesar?' 'What others?'
'Cicero and his man. They're waiting in the courtyard. He insists that he has business of the greatest importance.'
Caesar pressed his fingers together and studied the map of Gaul. 'No, not yet. I shall finish dictating this chapter first. Perhaps, after I take my midday meal, I shall have time to receive Marcus Tullius Cicero.'
The guard escorted us down a hallway and back to the courtyard. At our approach, Cicero rose to his feet. Before he could say a word, the guard cut him off with a shake of his head. Cicero crossed his arms and sat down again. He did not look at us as we passed by, but instead pretended to find some grim fascination in the fountain in the centre of the courtyard. I tried very hard not to smile.
XXVI
We ate with Meto in a large tent filled with soldiers. Under normal circumstances, I would have judged the food barely passable and the company just tolerable. After long days of captivity, however, and the deprivation of