"Ah, yes." He looked back up, looking a bitabashed for forgetting what was undoubtedly something important, atleast to me. "Sorry about that. He will meet with you at yourquarters, tomorrow morning at the end of the first watch. Will thatbe acceptable?"
Knowing that this was not a question, Iassured him that it was, and I rendered my salute and left. Ridingback to the Campus, I turned over this new development in my mind,and I was happy that I would at least have some time for Scriboniusto do some digging about the connection between young Piso andLucullus.
"Prefect," Diocles announced formally,standing in the doorway in front of a young man, "Tribune LuciusCalpurnius Piso is here to see you."
While I understood Diocles' insistence onthe formality, I thought it was somewhat silly, given that I wassitting a dozen paces away, and the young Tribune stood a headtaller than my Greek. Nevertheless, I played my part.
"Thank you, Diocles," I replied gravely as Istood, and began to walk toward the young man, offering my hand. "Iam..."
"I know who you are, sir." Piso had pushedpast Diocles in his rush to meet me, forcing me to suppress a laughat the look on my scribe's face as he glared at the back of theyoung patrician. "And believe me, the honor is mine!"
He had just uttered this last part as we metand clasped forearms, and I was surprised, and pleased, to feelthat his hands were well callused, telling me that he at least tookhis exercises seriously.
"I've wanted to meet the great Titus Pullusfor some time," he enthused, as if completely forgetting why wewere meeting in the first place.
"Well, I'm not sure what to say about that,"I replied. "I just wish it were under better circumstances."
Immediately, his face fell, and a rush ofcolor flooded up his neck.
"By the gods, I'm sorry," he exclaimed. "Idon't know what I was thinking! I was just so happy finally to getto meet you, but of course, you're right! It's under terriblecircumstances, indeed!"
I must say that he looked so genuinelyhorrified at his blunder that any irritation I had about itevaporated instantly. Instead, I found myself in the unusualposition of trying to offer him some comfort.
"It's all right," I assured him. "I knowthat in the grand scheme of things, my trial and the troubles Iface aren't very noteworthy. Particularly given what happened toMarcus Primus," I felt compelled to add.
"Nonsense!" Piso said indignantly. "It's ofvery great significance, Prefect! And I'll tell you that it's anoutrage what's happening to you! You're a hero of Rome! You'reknown throughout the Republic, and your service record has beenexemplary! I know; I was given a copy of your records tofamiliarize myself with you and your case. If I accomplish half thethings that you have on the battlefield, I will consider myselfblessed by Mars!"
Now that, I thought, is laying it on a bitthick. But truthfully, I did not mind so much. Who in my placewould balk at having their praises sung so loudly? Regardless of mydesire to hear him continue on about what a formidable warrior Iwas, I realized that of all the things that I possessed, time wasnot one of them.
"Please, will you sit with me?" Iinterrupted him, and the flush came back as he nodded, a bitchagrined, if I am any judge.
"Yes, Prefect, I would like that. I'm sorry.I must sound like a complete fool babbling on like that. It's justthat I'm being honest. It truly is an honor to meetyou."
By the time he was finished, we were bothseated, and I offered him some wine, which I was pleased to see heimmediately cut with water. Good, I thought; one of us needs aclear head. As we sipped our beverages, it gave me a chance toexamine him a bit more closely. Piso was a true Roman, with aproud, straight nose, thin features of an olive complexion, and ashock of black hair that, like most of the men of his age, he worelonger than I would have liked to see. He seemed to be fit, but ofa slender build, and he was of just slightly more than averageheight. But it was his eyes that were the most arresting part ofhis features, because they peered out at the world in a way thattold me this boy had an intense curiosity. Most interestingly, atleast to this point, he did not exhibit any of the haughtinessnormally found in young patricians, but I was sufficiently cynicalenough to recognize that this might very well be an act. I alsothought about what Scribonius had told me late the night before,when he had shown up well after curfew, which peeved me quite abit. However, when I asked him why he was so late, he was onceagain very evasive in his answers, and frankly, I was moreconcerned with what information he brought about Piso than to thinktoo much of his manner.
"Piso and Lucullus are extremely close,"Scribonius had told me. "But it's a case where Lucullus looks up toPiso, and Piso enjoys being looked up to. They trained together onthe Campus, and the only reason Piso wasn't on the campaign withLucullus and us was that he had taken ill and didn't recover intime."
"I wonder why Lucullus thinks so highly ofPiso?" I asked, but as usual, Scribonius had an answer.
"Name," he said simply. "Remember, Lucullushas the Claudian blood, but because it's from his mother, hedoesn't have the name. Yet. From what I was told, one of the thingsthat's driving Lucullus is the chance to be on a more equal footingwith Piso socially."
"So it's not exactly as Lucullus said, thathe's being forced into this by his uncle." I felt a coil of angerunwinding in me, but Scribonius held up a cautioning hand.
"Yes and no," he told me. "There's nothingsinister in him wanting to be adopted by Claudius' father, and Iwill say that I believe the both of them that Pulcher waited untilLucullus approached him about adoption before he named his price.Remember, Titus," he admonished, "not all of us are
