"There's a lot of that going around rightnow," I laughed, but it was a bitter, bitter jest.
He had sunk down onto a chair, and Ifollowed suit as we both reached for the amphora at the same time,prompting another chuckle from both of us.
"I'm going to need to order more of this,I'm afraid," he said as he poured both of us another cup.
Sipping in silence for a few moments,Diocles finally asked, "Any ideas about what to do?"
It pained me, but I could only shake myhead.
"The only good thing, I suppose, is that Ihave some time to prepare a defense. Primus doesn't go on trial foranother two weeks, and mine will be a week after."
"That's actually a good thing that you'renot going to be tried together, or even at the same time," Dioclespointed out.
"One other thing," I pointed out. "Is thatmy trial is going to be a Tribunal, held here. Not in the civiliancourts like his."
Diocles pondered this for a moment, and Icould see something about what I had just said troubled him.
Finally, he said softly, "I don't know thatthis is a good thing, Master."
Seeing my expression, since I had thoughtthe exact opposite thing, he hurried to explain.
"It might be a good thing," he continued,"but I can see it two ways. Another way to look at it is thatTribunals are closed proceedings."
I did not see how that could be a bad thing,and I said as much.
"That just means that I won't have to worryabout a mob of people who want to kill me," I pointed out.
"That is one way to look at it," heconceded. "But I think it's the exact opposite, and that's whyAugustus wants to hold a Tribunal. Master," he put his hand on myarm to emphasize his point, "I don't think you realize how wellknown you are. And the fact that you rose from the ranks isactually something that is enormously in your favor with the mob."He shook his head. "No, I think that's exactly what Augustus fears,that a public trial of a man the lower classes see as a hero willincite them to violence if things don't go their way."
I sat, considering this for a moment. I donot know whether Diocles was trying to make me feel better, orworse, because the more I thought about it, the more alarming itseemed that I was headed to a Tribunal.
"So," I tried to form my thoughts. "Ifyou're right in why Octavian wants a Tribunal, because he's afraidthat the mob will cause some sort of disturbance if I'm foundguilty, that sounds to me like he's trying to make sure I'm foundguilty." I shook my head, in frustration mostly. "But why? It'strue that we haven't had the same relationship that I had withCaesar, but I've served him faithfully."
"Well, we don't know for sure that's hisintent," Diocles said, but I could tell he was just mouthing thewords.
"Gods, I wish Scribonius were here," I said,finally uttering aloud a thought that had been my constantcompanion ever since I read the scroll.
"So do I," Diocles replied, and again, I donot know if he was trying to make me feel better, but when myGreek, who I considered just slightly below my best friend in termsof intellect, agreed with me, it just reinforced what trouble I wasin.
"What do we do now?"
I looked at Diocles, and again, a laughescaped from my lips, and again, it was tinged with despair.
"I was hoping you'd have some idea."
By this point, I had finished my third cupof wine, and I reached for the rapidly emptying amphora.
"But tonight, I'm going to get drunk."
I wish I could say that during my long revelwith the god Bacchus that he whispered some nugget of informationin my ear, but when I awoke the next morning, all I had to show forit was a pounding head and a sour stomach that was only marginallybetter than the day after the 10th's retirementceremony. As I lay there, facedown and my head turned to the sideof the bed by Diocles so that the vomit landed on the floor, asudden thought flashed through me that was humorous for just aninstant, but then brought up such an overwhelming sadness that Icursed whatever part of my mind had thought of it. At least I donot have an angry pregnant woman to deal with was the thought, butI knew that I would have given my entire fortune if she had beenstanding there, scowling at me again. Although I experienced anoverwhelming urge to lie there, wallowing in misery, and perhapseven continue in the way I had after the death of Balbus, I forcedmyself to drag my body out of bed. Staggering out of my bedroom, Iwas reminded of the concoction that Iras had created that day afterthe 10th's ceremony, and experienced a brief hope thatperhaps she had shared it with Diocles. But that was to be anotherdisappointment in what was looking to be the way the last chapterof my career, and possibly my life, would end. Instead, I forceddown another cup of wine, taking a page from the book of men morelearned than I in debauching themselves, and after that I was ableto keep some bread down. Knowing this was as good as I was likelyto feel the rest of the day, Diocles and I sat again at the table,basically resuming our conversation where we had left off, takingstock of exactly where matters stood, and exploring options.
In my conversation with Agrippa, asone-sided as it had been, he had taken great pains to make a pointthat he felt compelled to repeat not once but two more times.
"You are not to attempt to contact or in anyway reach out to Tribune Lucullus before your Tribunal. Is thatunderstood?"
"But how am I supposed to know the exactcircumstances of what he said?"
In answer, Agrippa handed me a wax tablet,saying, "This is a transcript of his official statement. This
