"Today they presented the testimony of theclerks who work for Augustus." Diocles consulted his notes andadded, "Both slave and free."
"Ah," I replied, understanding why he lookedtroubled. "I assume that the scribes who were slaves weren't thereto testify, just their statements read into the record?"
Diocles' reply was a simple nod of his head,but his mouth was pressed into a thin line as he thought about thefate of those poor wretches who had the misfortune to be born ormade slave, then assigned to the service of Octavian, as a clerkrunning the bureaucracy that the Princeps had been so tireless increating. Their testimony was not valid unless it had beenextracted by torture.
"Well, hopefully most of them survived," wasall I could think to say, though I knew it was of very littlecomfort to my Greek friend.
Shaking his head, he resumed reading hisnotes. "But there were four freedmen who handle the bulk ofOctavian's correspondence, and every one of them swore that he hadnever written any orders authorizing the campaign."
So far, matters were going as expected onthis first day, but that turned out to be a false indicator of whatwas to come.
"The prosecution wasn't expecting that," washow Diocles put it two days later, when they had summed up theircase and it was the turn of the defense to present their side.
"How so?"
"Well, they went to great lengths to showthat Augustus didn't give the order to Primus to conduct thiscampaign. But when the defense opened their case, Murena's openingstatement caught everyone by surprise, especially theprosecution."
Glancing down at his tablet, I saw himfrowning as Scribonius and I waited for him to continue. My friendhad been disposing of the last part of his father's business, andhad not been around until this very day of the defense case.
"What Murena said was that the prosecutionwas essentially correct," he resumed, once he found the spot in hisnotes, this prompting a gasp from both of us as Scribonius and Iexchanged a look.
My friend's expression was a mirror of mine;confusion, mixed with quite a bit of apprehension. If Primus'defense was essentially admitting that the essence of what theprosecution was alleging was true, what hope did I have? However,Diocles quickly put this to rest.
"On the face of it, anyway," he continued,oblivious to our reaction. "But what Murena said was that Augustuswas too crafty to put anything in writing on his own, or to issuePrimus orders of his own. Instead, Murena says, Augustus used hisson-in-law Marcellus to relay the orders to Marcus Primus."
Once I saw that he was finished, at leastwith this part, I sat back and tried to absorb this. Glancing overat Scribonius, his frown was so deep that the two ends of his mouthwere almost touching, or at least that is what it seemed like.
"But, Marcellus died almost exactly a yearago," Scribonius said slowly, still trying to unravel what Murenawas up to on behalf of his client.
Gaius Claudius Marcellus was Octavian'snephew, son of the ill-used Octavia from her first marriage toMarcellus' father, of the same name, before she was ordered todivorce for the "good of the Republic." Octavian's daughter Juliahad been betrothed to Marcellus two years before, when she wasfourteen, although the marriage was not consummated. According tothe wags in the army, who loved nothing more than to talk about thesexual behavior of the upper classes, young Marcellus had nevergotten to sample the wares of the young widow before he had themisfortune to die while on campaign, although it was of an illnessand not battle. Something that I had long ago observed; my socialbetters, when it came to such mundane matters as not falling preyto serious illness, were better only in a social sense and not inthe physical, since they seemed to be much more delicate thanpeople like me. I suppose there is something to be said about beingof less than pureblood status. Not lost on me when I had firstheard of the marriage of young Julia to Marcellus, back in Siscia,was that they were first cousins; Octavian had made much of the"abominable" nature of brothers and sisters marrying each otherwhen conducting his war of words with the "queen of beasts"Cleopatra. And while I shared in his loathing of this practice,there was a part of me that acknowledged that while first cousinswere somewhat better, it was only by a matter of one degree, as itwere. Sitting at the table, I waited for either Scribonius orDiocles to untie the knot that seemed to be Murena's strategy fordefending Marcus Primus.
"Although that makes it impossible forMurena to call Marcellus as a witness, it also makes it impossiblefor the prosecution to prove that it didn't happen,"Scribonius finally spoke, still staring down at the table.
At the edge of my vision, I saw Diocles'head nod, then he added his own contribution.
"Just from what I've seen so far, from thebody language of the jurors, Murena has scored points with thisaccusation."
While I thought this interesting, Iobviously did not find it as noteworthy as Scribonius did, whosuddenly sat up, staring hard at Diocles.
"How many of them seemed to be at least opento this idea?" he asked Diocles sharply.
My Greek scribe considered, then said with ashake of his head, "It's hard to say, but I don't think it was morethan a third part of the jury."
That would not be enough to keep Primus frombeing convicted, since the jury verdicts are by a rule of a baremajority. Not lost on any of us, especially me, was that anacquittal of Primus would mean the threat to my career wasimmediately over; if the campaign was not found to be illegal, thenI could not be complicit. Still, I had not really expected it to beeven a possibility, but the thought that after just a day, Diocleswas sure that there were some jurors who were not convinced, gaveme some hope.
Echoing my thoughts, Scribonius summed
