'And I know what you'll ask next: was the speech really that good? That's the truly painful thing. All the hours we put into that speech, and then to have it blown away like dust in the wind. It just might have got Milo off. Who knows? You can judge for yourself when we publish it. There'll have to be revisions, of course. Then the world can see Cicero's case for Milo laid out in all its perfection, without the distraction of that howling mob!'
'Alas, too late for Milo. Tiro, what was that you said about — '
'By Hercules, there's someone I don't care to see! It was good talking to you, Gordianus.' As he rose from the bench, I squinted through the orange haze to see who had arrived. I didn't recognize him at first, until I heard someone call his name: 'Philemon!'
I felt an impulse to introduce myself. I looked around for Eco, but couldn't find him in the haze. Was I that drunk? At last I spotted him off in a little anteroom, playing at dice. Faintly, above the roar, I heard him cry Menenia's name for luck.
Philemon was looking for a place to sit. I waved him over.
'Do I know you, citizen?'
I couldn't blame him for being wary. 'Not yet, but we have something in common.'
'We both like cheap whores and rancid wine?' 'A bit more than that. Sit. I'll buy you a cup.' 'I'd rather you bought me a whore.'
'Maybe I will! I suppose it wasn't easy, doing without for all that time.'
'What, while I was stuck in Milo's villa? At least that swine will never spend another holiday there!'
'I suppose not. Have you finished that cup-already? You must have another.' Philemon was behind me in inebriation, but he quickly caught up. He seemed to revel in repeating the story that had made him one of the prosecution's chief witnesses. He launched into the tale with no prompting from me. The wine seemed to loosen his lips.
'All right,' he said at one point, 'the way I told it in court, I made us out to be a bit more heroic than we were; there, I've admitted it.'
'What do you mean?'
'Well, it's true enough that when we came upon Eudamus and Birria, and realized what they were up to, boasting about trying to kill Clodius, we shouted at them to stop.'
'Yes, and then you said you and your friends rushed at them, but they beat you back and pursued you.'
He laughed sheepishly. 'Right! Except that we never rushed at them. I mean, this was Eudamus and Birria, grinning and covered with blood! Rush at them? I think not. We turned tail and ran, and they came after us.'
'It's nothing to be ashamed of,' I assured him.
'No, but try telling it that way in front of a crowd of a few thousand people!'
'Did you sweeten the truth about anything else?'
He shook his head, then shuddered. 'You can't imagine it, being tied up at the mercy of creatures like that. My blood was like iced water. The first big fight they had, when they marched us through Bovillae, I thought I'd empty my bowels.' 'A fight? What do you mean?'
'An argument, among themselves. Pretty fierce. I thought maybe they'd kill each other and leave us alone. Something about where to go next and what to do about Clodius. I suppose they were arguing over what to do with his body.'
'But his body was already gone. Senator Tedius had arrived on the scene, loaded it into his litter and sent it on to Rome.'
'Ah, yes, that's right. Maybe that's what they were arguing about, then — wondering where the body had gone. I suppose that gave them a start! Yes, I suppose that's what Milo was so furious about when they brought him the news. What, do you think he wanted them to bring back Clodius's head for a trophy?'
'He appears to have ended up with Clodius's ring. That should have been enough, I'd think.' I imagined Eudamus or Birria slipping it off the corpse's finger. I swallowed hard. 'I wonder if Milo intends to take the ring to Massilla with him — a comfort for his exile?'
Philemon wasn't listening. 'Yes, Senator Tedius. I saw him testify at the trial today. We passed him in the road, you know, between Bovillae and the place where Milo was waiting. Just sitting by the side of the road with his bodyguards, looking pleased with the world. You'd think he might have helped us!'
'He thought you were the bandits who'd killed Clodius, and that Milo's men had simply rounded you up!'
'Ha! It's a joke of the gods, isn't it!'
'Did you ask him for help?'
'A lot of good that would have done. He practically saluted those two monster gladiators as we passed by. I felt like a trussed-up Gaul in some general's triumphal parade.'
'Maybe you should have appealed to his daughter for help.'
'His daughter?' Philemon looked at me blearily and shook his head. I took it I had offended him by suggesting he might have appealed to a woman for help.
Even fathers of errant daughters and husbands of imperious wives must go home some time; and so, before the first hour of the day, Eco and I departed from the shelter of the Salacious Tavern and made our way up the Palatine Hill. I remember very little of that walk, except that far too much of it was far too steep, like old Sextus Tedius labouring up the Appian Way, I kept having to sit and catch my breath. Growing older is a torment, and being drunk is a comfort only to a point, after which it becomes a torment, too.
With sunrise would come a new day. Everything would be put back as it was. Eco and Menenia and the twins would return to the house on the Esquiline. I would send home Pompey's guards with heartfelt thanks and a sigh of relief. Of course, some things could not be so easily undone…
At least the crisis of the last few months was over. I washed my hands of everyone concerned! Milo, Clodia, Fulvia, Cicero and their respective satellites could all join Clodius in Hades. An end had been put to that story for good.
So I thought, wending my way up the Palatine Hill. It was that hour of day when a man can still see only dimly, though dawn is near at hand; but in my befuddled state, I didn't even realize that I was still in the dark, or that a light would soon be breaking.
Part Four
XXXIV
'It can be fixed, of course,' said the artisan. 'But…' 'But it will cost me,' I said.
'That goes without saying. The materials, the labour — the highly trained labour, I remind you — these things involve considerable expense.'
'Then why the hesitation?'
He shook his head. 'I can't guarantee that the work will keep. In fact, to be honest with you, I don't think that the breaks in the statue can be repaired in a… fully satisfactory… manner.'
'Satisfactory?'
'In a way that would be both artistically pleasing and structurally sound. You see, if you look here, at the point where the break began, you can see the traces of a tiny fissure that was there to start with-'
'You're saying that the statue had a flaw all along?'
'Oh, yes. Here, where the metal's so thin. See how the lip of the break shears in a different pattern? That shows there was already a thin spot with a hairline crack. You would never have noticed it from the outside, of course. It looked perfectly sound. But it was obviously cast with a flaw. Granted, no statue should be pushed from its pedestal, but given such an unfortunate event, this was the weakest point, and this is where the breakage inevitably occurred. Then it ran up along this thin spot, where the folds of the goddess's robes are thinnest, then across the top of her hips…'
