Quintus opened his mouth to say never, but the youngster got in first. ‘Once, father, and I would not grace it with the title discussion, just as I will not be chastised for showing concern for your health.’
Lucius was fighting to keep the mask of anger. Failing, he turned to Quintus, lest Marcellus detect a hint of his gratitude. ‘What you are implying, Quintus, is that you need to establish yourself well in advance, so that no one can be in any doubt of your position, should anything happen to me.’
‘Yes!’ replied Quintus, hoping that his attempt to grasp this lifeline wasn’t too obvious.
‘Sicily?’ said Lucius, rolling the word around his mouth.
‘There’s no panic, Lucius. You can take all the time in the world to get there.’
‘Nonsense, Quintus. No one would believe that I would trouble myself unless the matter was serious.’
‘No one will believe that you’ve actually gone, father. They’ll think you’re sitting just outside Rome, waiting to pounce.’
Lucius gave Marcellus a rare smile, wondering if the boy had deliberately set out to warn Quintus, or merely done so by accident.
‘You will need a military legate, Lucius. Might I suggest my brother Titus. His term of office is nearly up.’
‘An excellent notion, Quintus.’
The other man spoke as though he could not believe what he was saying. ‘You agree, then?’
‘I do. You shall have access to all my papers, Quintus. Added to that, you shall be free to act as you see fit. This wound may prove a blessing.’
‘How so?’
Lucius fixed Quintus with a gimlet-like stare. ‘Perhaps I can retire earlier than I had supposed.’
He sent word to Servius Caepio as soon as Quintus had gone, despite Marcellus’s protests that he would tire himself out. The senior consul needed no pleading to attend; after all, his year of office, which he had expected to be peaceful and profitable, had started badly. Had he not been consul, he too would have fled the city, if only to get away from the rantings of his junior, Rutulius, who was all for a decimation, killing one in ten of the city population; this so that those who attacked Lucius, and through him the faction of which they were members, would know that their foul deed would not go unpunished. Gently, without being too overt, he outlined Rutulius’s ideas to Lucius, gratified to see that the Princeps Senatus held them in equal contempt.
‘Is he still set on going to Spain?’ asked Lucius.
‘It’s a constant refrain, as if he hopes, like water on a stone, he’ll wear down my resistance.’
‘I have agreed to undertake a task in Sicily.’
Caepio, small and sharp-featured, showed great control. If he was shocked by this news, nothing in his demeanour was allowed to show it. ‘Indeed. Then the people of that province should consider themselves flattered.’
‘It’s on doctor’s advice, added to the pleading of my son. They say that being out of Rome will help me to recover. Quintus Cornelius half-hinted that I go to Spain.’ Lucius paused, sure that someone like Servius Caepio, given a few moments to think, would work out all the ramifications of that notion. ‘I said no, naturally.’
‘How very wise.’
‘What worries me, Servius, is that while I’m in Sicily, Rutulius might just get himself enough votes to put pressure on your good self, and have his way.’
‘I think that Quintus Cornelius and I can contain him.’
‘It is something I’d rather see settled before my departure, one way or the other.’
Servius was abreast of Lucius, if not one or two steps ahead. He knew that Rome would be unsettled by Lucius’s departure. The final responsibility for events lay with the consuls, and if matters got out of hand they would bear the blame. ‘The only way to ensure your peace of mind is to appoint someone else to go.’
‘Which is why I asked you to call.’
Servius held up his hand, counting off the arguments on his fingers. ‘Spain deserves attention, but it’s too far for you to travel. Rutulius is not to be trusted in such a situation, yet whoever proceeds there must have the stature necessary to ensure that the wishes of the Senate prevail. That doesn’t leave many people to choose from.’
‘No!’ replied Lucius. ‘And what the Senate needs in Spain is someone well versed in politics, not war. I have advocated for years that this Brennos should be suborned, not attacked. I would rest easy, in my Sicilian bed, if I knew that the man who went to Spain not only shared my views, but had the brains to carry them out.’
‘I have been short-sighted, Lucius Falerius, for which I beg your humble pardon. Perhaps the constant drip of Livius Rutulius’s ideas has blinded me to what is required. If you will give me your support, I will move that I go to Spain myself.’
‘And Rutulius?’
‘With Rome unsettled, there will be plenty at home to occupy him.’
Servius stood to say farewell, a man well content. The Princeps Senatus had just done him a great favour. Right now, despite all the trouble on the frontier, Spain was probably a safer place than Rome. Any mistakes made at the centre of the Republic would haunt their perpetrator forever; errors at the periphery, especially in a posting that had fooled cleverer men than he, would not count. He would have been less pleased if he had heard what Lucius said to his son after he left.
‘Ambitious, venal and an intriguer. Quintus will be much better off with Rutulius. Him he can control, but Servius Caepio, presented with an opportunity to enhance his position, could not resist the temptation to take it.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Marcellus was sick of looking at scrolls, but his father had insisted; only he could help him to remove the ones he wanted, and he did not trust his steward. Once Quintus had access to this room, the man might tell him that papers had been removed, even if he had no idea what they contained. Once the extra strongbox was filled, Lucius locked it, affixed his seal, and instructed Marcellus to hide it in the cellar. He then had himself carried to the Senate on a litter, and moved the motion himself, with Quintus seconding, that a senior member of the house go to Sicily to investigate the disturbances. The vote was carried easily; true, there were those who owned land there who feared for their revenues, but most sought a respite from the eagle eye of Lucius Falerius, who was quick to enumerate their faults if they debated against him.
The only thing that marred Lucius’s day was that Cassius Barbinus, with the nose of a ferret, guessed that the proposer wanted the job for himself. He put the Falerii name forward before the man they had lined up to do it had a chance, speaking of his fellow-senators, especially Lucius and Quintus, in such fulsome terms that everyone in the chamber knew he was lying.
‘What could be more appropriate than this: that our most august member should personally see to matters in the Republic’s most important province? I had the good fortune to buy some land in Sicily recently, from none other than our august colleague. If I’d ever doubted that he cared more for Rome than his own well-being, those farms would have convinced me. Not for Lucius Falerius Nerva the husbandry of his estates. No, my friends, they had been allowed to go to rack and ruin while he saw to the affairs of this house. I feel almost criminal. After all, I paid a fair price, but now I find that the yield has increased so much that I’m in profit already.’
Barbinus turned to Quintus, his large round frame shaking as he tried to contain his mirth. ‘I most humbly beg Quintus Cornelius, who shares with Lucius Falerius a love of the Republic, to combine good husbandry with politics. Let Lucius go to Sicily, to ensure that all is well, to see with his own eyes how the land prospers, and if he agrees to do this, I, in gratitude for his sacrifice, both now and in the past, will dedicate the entire annual revenue from his old farms to the Temple of Aesculapius as a token of my relief that he has been spared for such an onerous task.’ He waved his arm, in a huge theatrical sweep which took in all the benches. ‘Fellow-senators, I move the motion.’
Lucius had smiled at Barbinus on the way out, pushing himself up on his litter, determined that the man would not see he was upset, but once outside he allowed Marcellus to glimpse how bitter he was. He knew, as well as all the others who had attended the debate, that Barbinus would never have dared to treat him so if he had been fully fit.
