Lustrum

that inner one prospers still. Look around you, Romans, and you can see how well it prospers! Rule by secret conclave and by terror on the streets. Rule by illegal methods and by bribery on a massive scale – dear gods, you accuse Hybrida of corruption? He is as guileless and as helpless as a baby by comparison with Caesar and his friends!

'This trial itself is the proof. Do you think that Rufus is the sole author of this prosecution? This neophyte who has barely grown his first beard? What nonsense! These attacks – this so-called evidence – all of it is designed to discredit not just Hybrida, but me – my reputation, my consulship, and the policies I pursued. The men behind Rufus seek to destroy the traditions of our republic for their own wicked ends, and to accomplish that – forgive me if I flatter myself: it is not the first time, I know – to achieve that aim they need to destroy me first.

'Well, gentlemen, here in this court, on this day, at this defining hour, you have a chance for immortal glory. That Hybrida made mistakes I do not doubt. That he has indulged himself more than was wise for him, I sadly concede. But look beyond his sins and you will see the same man who stood with me against the monster who threatened this city four years ago. Without his support, I would have been struck down by an assassin very early in my term. He did not desert me then, and I shall not abandon him now. Acquit him by your votes, I pray you; keep him here in Rome, and by the grace of our ancient gods we shall once again restore the light of liberty to this city of our forefathers!'

Thus spoke Cicero, but when he sat down there was very little applause, mostly just a buzz of amazement around the court at what he had said. Those who agreed with him were too frightened to be seen to support him. Those who disagreed with him were too cowed by the impact of his rhetoric to protest. The rest – the majority, I should say – were simply bewildered. I looked for Balbus in the crowd, but he had slipped away. I went up to Cicero with my notebook and congratulated him on the force of his remarks.

'Did you get it all down?' he asked, and when I replied that I had, he told me to copy out the speech as soon as we got home and hide it in a safe place. 'I expect a version is on its way to Caesar even now,' he added. 'I saw that reptile Balbus writing almost as quickly as I could speak. We must make sure we have an accurate transcript in case this is raised in the senate.'

I could not stay to talk to him further, as the praetor was ordering that the jury should be balloted at once. I glanced at the sky. It was the middle of the day; the sun was high and warm. I returned to my place and watched the urn as it was passed from hand to hand and filled with tokens. Cicero and Hybrida sat watching as well, side by side, too nervous to speak, and I thought of all the other trials I had sat through, and how they always ended in exactly this way, with this horrible period of waiting. Eventually the clerks completed their tally and the result was passed up to the praetor. He stood, and we all followed suit.

'The question before the court is whether Caius Antonius Hybrida is to be condemned for treason in connection with his governorship of the province of Macedonia. There voted in favour of condemnation forty-seven, and in favour of acquittal twelve.' There was a great cheer from the crowd. Hybrida bowed his head. The praetor waited until the sounds had died away. 'Caius Antonius Hybrida is therefore stripped of all rights of property and citizenship in perpetuity, and from midnight is to be denied fire and water anywhere within the lands, cities and colonies of Italy, and any who seek to assist him shall be subject to the same punishment. This court is adjourned.'

Cicero did not lose many cases, but on the rare occasions that he did, he was usually scrupulous in congratulating his opponents. Not this time. When Rufus came over to commiserate, Cicero pointedly turned his back on him, and I was pleased to see that the young rogue was left with his hand extended in midair, looking a fool. Eventually he shrugged and turned away. As for Hybrida, he was philosophical. 'Well,' he said to Cicero in my hearing, as he was preparing to be led away by the lictors, 'you warned me the way the wind was blowing, and thankfully I have a little money put by to see me through my old age. Besides, I am told that the southern coast of Gaul looks very like the Bay of Naples. So do not concern yourself with my fate, Cicero. After that speech, it is your own you ought to worry about.'

It must have been about two hours later – certainly no more – that the door to Cicero's house was suddenly thrown open and Metellus Celer appeared in a state of great agitation, demanding to see my master. Cicero was dining with Terentia and I was still transcribing his speech. But I could see it was supremely urgent so I took him through at once.

Cicero was reclining on a couch, describing the end of Hybrida's trial, when Celer burst into the room and interrupted him.

'What did you say in court about Caesar this morning?'

'Good day to you, Celer. I told a few truths, that's all. Will you join us?'

'Well, they must have been pretty dangerous truths, for Gaius is exacting a mighty revenge.'

'Is he really?' replied Cicero, with an attempt at sangfroid. 'And what is to be my punishment?'

'He is in the senate house as we speak, arranging for that swine of a brother-in-law of mine to become a plebeian!'

Cicero sat up in such alarm he knocked his glass over. 'No, no,' he said, 'that cannot be right. Caesar would never lift a finger to help Clodius – not after what Clodius did to his wife.'

'You are wrong. He is doing it right now.'

'How do you know?'

'My own darling wife just took great pleasure in telling me.'

'But how is it possible?'

'You forget Caesar is the chief priest. He has summoned an emergency meeting of the curia to approve an adoption.'

Terentia said, 'Is that legal?'

'Since when did legality matter,' asked Cicero bitterly, 'when Caesar is involved?' He started rubbing his forehead very hard, as if he could somehow magic forth a solution. 'What about getting Bibulus to pronounce the auguries unfavourable?'

'Caesar's thought of that. He has Pompey with him-'

'Pompey?' Cicero looked stunned. 'This gets worse every moment!'

'Pompey is an augur. He's observed the skies and declared that all's well.'

'But you're an augur. Can't you overrule him?'

'I can try. At the very least we ought to get down there.'

Cicero needed no further urging. Still wearing his slippers, he hurried out of the house after Celer, while I panted along at their backs with their attendants. The streets were quiet: Caesar had moved so quickly, no word of what was happening had filtered through to the people. Unfortunately, by the time we had sprinted across the forum and thrown open the doors of the senate house, the ceremony was just finishing – and what a shameful scene it was that met our eyes. Caesar was on the dais at the far end of the chamber, dressed in his robes as chief priest and surrounded by his lictors. Pompey was beside him, absurd in his augural cap and carrying a divining wand. Several other pontiffs were also standing around, among them Crassus, who had been co-opted into the college at Caesar's behest to replace Catulus. Clustered together on the wooden benches, like penned sheep, was the curia, the thirty elderly greyheads who were the chiefs of the tribes of Rome. And finally, to complete the picture, the golden-curled Clodius was kneeling in the aisle next to another man. Everyone turned at the noise of our entrance, and never have I forgotten the smirk of triumph on Clodius's face when he realised Cicero was watching – it was a look of almost childish devilment – although it was quickly replaced by an expression of terror as his brother-in-law strode towards him, followed by Cicero.

'What the fuck is going on here?' shouted Celer.

'Metellus Celer,' responded Caesar in a firm voice, 'this is a religious ceremony. Do not profane it.'

'A religious ceremony! With Rome's profaner-in-chief kneeling here – the man who fucked your own wife!' He aimed a kick at Clodius, who scrambled away from him towards Caesar's feet. 'And who is this boy?' he demanded, looming over the other cowering man. 'Let's see who's joined the family!' He hauled him to his feet by the scruff of his neck and turned him round to show us – a shivering, pimply youth of twenty or so.

'Show some respect to my adopted father,' said Clodius, who, despite his fear, could not stop himself laughing.

'You disgusting-' Celer dropped the youth and returned his attention to Clodius, drawing back his huge fist to strike him, but Cicero caught his arm. 'No, Celer. Don't give them an excuse to arrest you.'

'Wise advice,' said Caesar.