Final Campaign

best outcome I could hope for, thatwould only happen if I was lucky, was one of the bitterest draughtsI have ever had to swallow. Interestingly enough, I found that thetime I spent on the back of Ocelus were some of the most enjoyabletimes of my life, as we explored the area around Rome. Riding outthe Via Appia in particular was one my favorite routes, and I thinkOcelus enjoyed it as well, and I must say that, as bitter as myfeelings towards the upper classes of Rome may have been at thattime, seeing the road stretching as far as the eye could see, withthe tombs of the ancestors of some of the greatest families of Romelining both sides all the way, was a sight that filled my heartwith pride. What other civilization, what other nation, could matchthis? I wondered one day as I trotted Ocelus along the road,weaving in and out of the inevitable heavy traffic. I had seenEgypt, and although the pyramids, which are tombs themselves, arecertainly the most awesome spectacle these old eyes have ever seen,those were reserved for their Pharaohs, whereas what I saw on myrides were the tombs of the people of Rome, of almost all classes.Nowhere else, I was, and am, sure, would anything like this beseen. Equally pleasing were the views of the surroundingcountryside, and even after doing it several times, I was alwaysstruck by the feeling of being in the country so quickly afterpassing through the gates. Granted, it was late fall by this point,so the weather was not the most pleasant, but there were stilltrees with some color on them, and the air had a crisp but pleasantbite. Sometimes, when I would pull off to the side of the road tosit on Ocelus and just absorb the world around me, with the birdssinging, the sounds of the traffic moving by, and the gentlebreeze, it was hard for me to remember that I was in such direstraits. We would always find some fences to jump, knowing as I didthat if I did not entertain Ocelus in some way, not only would thestable slaves have their hands full, but I was liable to have avery rough ride the next time I climbed aboard.

In addition to the rides, I attempted toobserve some of the court proceedings that are an everyday affairin Rome. Not a day goes by where there is not a trial going on, andwhile most of the matters are civil and involve disputes overproperty, there were a fair number of criminal trials. These werethe ones I attended, because I had something in mind. Although Ihad been denied Claudius as a defender, nothing had been said abouthaving a co-counsel, and I wanted to see how often this happened.As it turned out, not one trial I attended had more than oneadvocate for the defendant, although I did see more than one manfor the prosecution. Consequently, I knew it was not unheard ofand, in fact, I asked some of those citizens, most of them from myclass with nothing else to do, who frequented the trials, seeingthem as a form of entertainment. From them, I learned that while itwas not done often, it had happened, so with that confirmation, Iwatched the performance of the various men trying to save anotherfrom some fate. Unfortunately, at least as far as my needs wereconcerned, all of the trials I watched were low-grade crimes, liketheft or assault. There was one trial for murder, but it was theresult of a drunken brawl in an inn on the Aventine, so suffice tosay that neither the victim nor the accused were of a class thatapproximated mine. Then, on the fourth day, just a week beforePrimus' trial was to begin, I came back from my ride with Ocelus,and when I returned to the Campus Martius, it was only by a chancecomment from one of the slaves that warned me that, unusually,Diocles had arrived back to our quarters before I had, and that hewas not alone, a man coming to my quarters not long after hearrived. Despite cautioning myself against it, I could not stop asurge of excitement rushing through me, sure that Diocles had atlast located Claudius and persuaded him at least to come hear meout, for I could think of no other reason for him to have company.Hurrying to the door, I barely remembered to give my usualinstructions to the stable slave, and I am afraid Ocelus did notget his customary post-ride apple, which was in my pouch. Throwingthe door open, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to see that,in fact, Diocles was sitting at the table, with a man sittingimmediately next to him. I do not know if it was their intent forthis man to sit with his back to me so that I could not see hisface, but I did not need to see the features to know who it was. Ido not believe I have ever been in such a state of shock as I wasat that moment, even before Sextus Scribonius turned to faceme.

If anything, he was thinner, though I foundthat hard to believe. For a brief moment, I had the horrifyingfeeling that I would pass out, and I was forced to grab at the wallas my mind struggled to comprehend the sight before me. He wasstill wearing his cloak, although it was no longer the redLegionary sagum that we had both worn for so many years. Itwas clearly expensive, but very plain; a brown, drab color thatlooked like thousands of other such garments. For blending in, hecould not have selected a better one, or color. I saw how drawn hisface was, stabbing me with a pang of such guilt that it took mybreath away, but his voice was as strong as I remembered it fromour days together as tiros.

"The great Titus Pullus is speechless?" Itwas not until I heard his dry, sardonic tone that I realized howmuch I had missed it. "What a shock."

"What...why... how did you get here?" Ifinally stammered.

"How do you think? I swam,"