'Pompey?'
'Pompey. Exactly. That's it. The situation must be much more perilous even than I thought. Crassus came to see me tonight to betray Catilina not because he's worried he might fail but because he's frightened he'll succeed.'
The next morning at first light we left the house accompanied by four knights including the Sextus brothers, who henceforth would seldom leave the consul's side. Cicero kept the hood of his cloak well up and his head well down, while I carried the case of letters. Every few paces I had to take an extra step to keep up with his long stride. When I asked him where we were going, he replied: 'We need to find ourselves a general.'
It seems odd to relate, but overnight all Cicero's recent misery and despair had left him. Faced with this immense crisis he seemed – not happy: that would be absurd to say, but invigorated. He almost bounded up the steps to the Palatine, and when we turned into Victory Rise I realised our destination must be the house of Metellus Celer. We passed the portico of Catulus and drew into the doorway of the next house, which stood vacant, its windows and entrance boarded up. Determined not to be seen, Cicero said that he would wait here while I went next door and announced that the consul wished to see the praetor alone and in the strictest confidence. I did as he asked, and Celer's steward quickly reported back that his master would join us as soon as he could get away from his morning levee. When I returned to fetch Cicero, I found him talking to the watchman of the empty house. 'This place belongs to Crassus,' he told me as we walked away. 'Can you believe it? It's worth a fortune but he's leaving it empty so that he can get a better price next year. No wonder he doesn't want a civil war – it's bad for business!'
Cicero was conducted by a servant down an alleyway between the two houses, through the rear door and directly into the family apartments. There, Celer's wife Clodia, alluring in a silken robe over her nightdress, and with the musky smell of the bedchamber still upon her, waited to greet him. 'When I heard you were coming clandestinely through the back door I hoped it was to see me,' she said reproachfully, fixing him with her sleepy eyes, 'but now I hear it's my husband you want, which really is too boring of you.'
'I fear everyone is a bore,' said Cicero, bowing to kiss her hand, 'compared to she who reduces us all, however eloquent, to stammering wrecks.'
It was a measure of Cicero's revived spirits that he had the energy to flirt, and the contact between his lips and her skin seemed to last far longer than was necessary. What a scene: the great and prudish orator bent over the hand of the most titled trollop in Rome! It actually flashed into my mind – a wild, fantastical notion – that Cicero might one day leave Terentia for this woman, and I was glad when Celer came bustling into the room in his usual hearty military manner and the intimate atmosphere was instantly dissolved.
'Consul! Good morning! What can I do for you?'
'You can raise an army and save your country.'
'An army? That's a good one!' But then he saw that Cicero was serious. 'What are you talking about?'
'The crisis I have for so long predicted is upon us at last. Tiro, show the praetor the letter addressed to Crassus.' I did so, and watched Celer's face grow rigid as he read the words.
'This was sent to Crassus?'
'So he says. And these others were also delivered to him last night for distribution across the city.' Cicero gestured to me and I handed Celer the bundle of letters. He read a couple and compared them. When he had finished, Clodia lifted them from his hands and studied them herself. He made no effort to stop her, and I made a note in my mind to remember that she was privy to all his secrets. 'And that's only the half of it,' continued Cicero. 'According to Quintus Arrius, Etruria is swarming with Catilina's men. Manlius is raising a rebel army equivalent to two legions. They plan to seize Praeneste, and Rome will be next. I want you to take command of our defences. You'll need to move swiftly if we're to stop them.'
'What do you mean by swiftly?'
'You'll leave the city today.'
'But I have no authority-'
'I'll get you the authority.'
'Hold on, Consul. There are things I need to think about before I go off raising troops and rampaging through the countryside.'
'Such as?'
'Well, first I must certainly consult my brother Nepos. And then I have my other brother – my brother by marriage – Pompey the Great, to think about-'
'We haven't the time for all that! If every man starts considering his family's interests ahead of his nation's, we'll never get anywhere. Listen, Celer,' Cicero said, softening his tone in that way I'd heard him do so often, 'your courage and firm action have already saved the republic once when Rabirius was in peril. Ever since then I've known that history has cast you to play the hero's part. There's glory as well as peril in this crisis. Remember Hector: “No sluggard's fate, ingloriously to die/But daring that which men to be shall learn.” Besides, if you don't do it, Crassus will.'
'Crassus? He's no general! All he knows about is money.'
'Maybe, but he's already sniffing round the chance for military glory. Give him a day or two and he'll have bought himself a majority in the senate.'
'If there's military glory to be had, Pompey will want it, and my brother has come back to Rome expressly to ensure he gets it.' Celer gave me back the letters. 'No, Consul – I appreciate your faith in me, but I can't accept without their approval.'
'I'll give you Nearer Gaul.'
'What?'
'Nearer Gaul – I'll give it you.'
'But Nearer Gaul isn't yours to give.'
'Yes it is. It's presently my allotted province, swapped with Hybrida for Macedonia, if you recall. It was always my intention to renounce it. You can have it.'
'But it's not a basket of eggs! There'll have to be a fresh ballot among the praetors.'
'Yes, which you will win.'
'You'll rig the ballot?'
' I shan't rig the ballot. That would be most improper. No, no, I'll leave that side of things to Hybrida. He may not have many talents, but rigging ballots I believe is one of them.'
'What if he refuses?'
'He won't. We have an understanding. Besides,' said Cicero, flourishing the anonymous letter addressed to Hybrida, 'I'm sure he'd prefer it if this wasn't made public.'
'Nearer Gaul,' said Celer, rubbing his broad chin. 'It's better than Further Gaul.'
'Darling,' said Clodia, putting her hand on her husband's arm, 'it really is a very good offer, and I'm sure Nepos and Pompey will understand.'
Celer grunted, and rocked back and forth on his heels a few times. I could see the greed in his face. Eventually he said, 'How soon d'you think I could be given this province?'
'Today,' said Cicero. 'This is a national emergency. I shall argue that there must be no uncertainty about commands anywhere in the empire, and that my place is in Rome, just as yours is in the field, putting down the rebel forces. We'll be partners in defence of the republic. What do you say?'
Celer glanced at Clodia. 'It will put you ahead of all your contemporaries,' she said. 'Your consulship will be guaranteed.'
He grunted again, and turned back to Cicero. 'Very well,' he replied, and extended his massive muscled arm towards the consul. 'For the sake of my country, I say yes.'
From Celer's house, Cicero walked the few hundred paces to Hybrida's, roused the presiding consul from his habitual drunken stupor, sobered him up, told him about the rebel army gathering in Etruria, and gave him his lines for the day. Hybrida baulked at first when told he would have to rig the ballot for Nearer Gaul, but then Cicero showed him the letter from the conspirators with his name written on it. His glassy, red-veined eyes almost popped out of his head and he began to sweat and shake in alarm.
'I swear to you, Cicero, I knew nothing about it!'
'Yes, but unfortunately, my dear Hybrida, as you well know, this city is full of jealous and suspicious minds that might easily be persuaded to believe otherwise. If you really want to prove your loyalty beyond question, I
