Final Campaign

Tribunes. The truth was that I had not even given it anythought, so my initial reaction at this query was to consult thelist, then pick a name at random. However, I was in for a surprise,when a messenger summoned me to meet with Agrippa later on the daythat I had sent my answer. Hurrying, I just managed to put on myuniform and make it presentable and still be there at the appointedtime. This time, the Optio in charge was not about to let me out ofhis sight, and I was escorted along the now-familiar route throughthe villa to Agrippa's office. A voice commanded entry the momentthe Optio rapped on the door, and I found myself once more in frontof Agrippa's desk. After the salutes, he waved me to a seat. This,I thought, is becoming a habit.

"I received your message about the Tribuneyou chose for your defense," he began.

What was also becoming a habit was Agrippanot looking me in the eye as he spoke. Once again, he was staringdown at a tablet; I presumed it was the one on which I sent mymessage. Not sure if it was a question, I said nothing, and a lookof irritation flashed across his face.

"Yes, well, I wanted to talk to you aboutyour choice of Tribunes," Agrippa said, his eyes still fixed on thetablet. "It's just that...I'm not sure that he's the best choicefor you."

This was unexpected, and I felt anothershiver of fear shoot up my spine.

Sitting forward, I asked, "May I ask why youbelieve that to be the case?"

Agrippa pursed his lips, and he seemed tochoose his words carefully, but more importantly, he still refusedto meet my gaze.

"The Tribune in question is a fine youngRoman officer, and he comes from an impeccable family of thehighest standing." And that was when he looked at me, his eyesboring into mine.

Suddenly, I understood.

"Ah, I see." My mind raced as I tried todetermine one simple, but very important matter.

Was he telling me the truth? Essentially,what I believed Agrippa was trying to say, in a way that I wouldunderstand but not be objectionable to anyone who might overhear,was that the man I had picked was not particularly smart. Byemphasizing his breeding and station, Agrippa was sending thesubtle signal that the young man exhibited the characteristics thatare an inherent danger when men and women too closely relatedbreed. It was something we lower classes loved to talk about, andnot in a complimentary way. However, could I believe Agrippa? Asmuch as I admired the man, and believed he felt the same way aboutme, I never forgot that he was as loyal to Octavian as I had beento Caesar. Also never far from my mind was the memory of what hadtaken place after the disbandment of the 10^th, whenAgrippa had uttered his harsh warning, insinuating that the10^th had been disloyal to Octavian, and how I hadinsisted on adding to his words. He had been extremely angry then,and while I thought it was in the past, I also recognized that onenever knew with the upper classes of Rome, who had extraordinarilylong memories. But I also felt a bond with Agrippa, and I suspectedhe felt the same towards me, that one man who was born to fight hasfor another like him.

Making my decision, I asked, "Might I askyou who you would suggest, sir?"

Agrippa suddenly relaxed, and his relief wasplainly visible on his face as he nodded.

"In fact, I do have someone in mind. I'veworked with him quite a bit, and I must say I've found him one ofthe most impressive young Tribunes I've seen in some time. His nameis Lucius Calpurnius Piso."

I felt a frown tugging at my face as I triedto place the name.

"I know I've heard the name before," Ibegan.

Agrippa relieved me of searching my memory,saying, "He's the brother of Calpurnia Pisonis Caesar. Much youngerbrother," he hastened to add.

"Ah." I nodded, happy that the associationcame to me as soon as Agrippa supplied the information.

The truth is that I knew more about hisfamily than I did about the young man himself. I had seen Calpurniaonly once, when she was pointed out to me by Scribonius when wemarched in Caesar's triumph, but I knew more about her and theTribune's father. He had been involved with Publius Clodius,resulting in drawing the venomous pen of Marcus Tullius Cicero. Hisrole in the first civil war had been one of official neutrality,although it was widely believed that he secretly backed Pompey, yetsomehow managed not to draw the wrath of Caesar. I supposeCalpurnia had something to do with that; even with Caesar'sreputation and the widely held belief that Servilia was the love ofhis life, I knew Caesar well enough that he was at the very leastfond of his wife. But Piso's father, who carried thecognomen of Caesoninus had chosen wisely in the battlebetween Antonius and Octavian, and had been one of the men whoshuttled back and forth between the two men that led to that firstpact on the island in the river. As I recalled what I knew aboutthe family, I was struck by a memory of something that I hadheard.

"If I remember correctly, doesn't young Pisohave some sort of relationship with Lucullus?"

Agrippa's face remained expressionless, butI sensed a subtle change in something, perhaps his posture as heanswered me.

"I seem to recall hearing something alongthose lines," he replied in a neutral tone.

But like he had done moments before, heseemed to make a point to look me in the eye as he said this,telling me that, at the very least, he thought what he was tellingme was significant. However, as much as I tried, I could not makean obvious connection. Opening my mouth, I was about to press himfor more details than the vague affirmation he had given me, but hesuddenly looked down at a scroll on his desk.

"If you'll forgive me, Pullus, I must getback to work."

Understanding that I was unlikely to getanything more from him about Piso, I decided not to push my luck,knowing that he was helping me as much as he was able, or willing,to do.

Standing, I