"Very well," the Senior Tribune said,finally. "It has been established that this is Sextus Scribonius,and that he was present for at least the beginning of this campaignand therefore may," he leaned forward as he emphasized theword, "have testimony that has relevance to these proceedings. Thatremains to be seen. But," he finished, "he has earned the right toat least be heard, and we will determine the rest."
"Thank you, Senior Tribune." Piso bowed,then turned back to Scribonius, who seemed secretly amused at allthis fuss. "Now, Evocatus Scribonius," he resumed, "you haveproven your identity and that you were present for the campaign.However, your name is missing. That leads me to believe that youwere either seriously wounded, or fell ill. Am I correct in thisassumption?"
For the first time, Scribonius hesitated aswe exchanged a glance. This was the moment where he was going toput himself in great peril, and I did not blame him a bit forpausing. A part of me wanted him somehow to avoid answering thequestion, or answer in such a way that he still retained at least apossibility, however slim, of escaping punishment.
"No, that would not be correct," Scriboniusanswered, and I realized I was the only one who noticed thehesitation.
But his words were certainly noticed; theposture and attitude of every single participant changed as eachman either leaned forward or sat up straighter, all eyes now pinnedto my friend, who seemed oblivious as he continued.
"I was neither wounded, nor was I ill. Inbody, at least," he added.
I could see that Piso was already preparinghis next question, but he had obviously based it on something otherthan what Scribonius said, because he froze for a moment, a frownon his face. Truthfully, I felt a great deal of sympathy for youngPiso; he had proven to be an excellent advocate, but he had notbargained for any of what was about to unfold, and I could tellthat he had been feeling his way along, trying to anticipate wherehe thought Scribonius' testimony would go. The problem was that itwas not going anywhere near the direction he had thought, so now hestood there much like a startled animal that freezes as it tries todecide whether to fight or flee. Finally, he decided to takeadvantage of the rules that prohibit the other side frominterrupting.
"Well, whatever the reason, I'm sure that itwas a good one," Piso said. "But what is more important is yourknowledge of what happened as it pertains to the reason that we'rehere. What do you know of this?"
Over the next few moments, Sextus Scriboniusused the sum total of more than forty years under the standard,more than thirty of them as a Centurion, to give what I woulddescribe as a classic after-action report, devoid of opinion and asimple recitation of the facts as he observed them. His tone wasmatter-of-fact, and while there were no extraneous details orobservations, he left nothing out that had an impact on thedisputed matter under examination. I have never been prouder of myfriend's professionalism; even better, I could see that the membersof the Tribunal were clearly impressed, every one of them payingclose attention to everything Scribonius said. He recounted theconversations that we had in my quarters when I expressed my doubtsabout the orders, and the night that I demanded to see them. Mostimportantly, he described the almost full watch that passed aftermy demand to see the orders, and the circumstances under which ithappened, but he also remembered me telling him about Flaminius'conviction that the seal had been lifted from another document, andthe orders themselves were forged, something that I had forgotten.It did make me regret that I had not thought to get Flaminius torecord his statement to that effect before I left Siscia, but thatwas a jug already broken. Finally, he refuted Lucullus' statement,both his original, and the testimony he had given that day, simplypointing out that since Scribonius was my closest companion and wasaround me all the time, that he would have recalled such meetingstaking place between the two of us.
He signaled that he was finished by simplysaying, "That is what I saw, and what I know transpired."
Piso did not say anything for a moment, andI could see that he was silent from being so impressed by myfriend's account. Taking another surreptitious glance at theTribunal, I was heartened at what I saw, as the members exchangedglances and whispers about what they had just heard.
"Thank you, Evocatus," Piso broke thesilence. "That was very...instructive. And most impressive."
Scribonius gave a slight smile, and offereda shrug as he answered, "I've had a great deal of practice,Tribune."
That was when he looked at me and winked,and I knew that he was not talking about the report itself, buthow, once more, he had rescued me from certain destruction.
Now that it was the turn for the prosecutionto attack Scribonius' testimony, this was when the true gift thatMarcus Vipsanius Agrippa had handed me became apparent. TribuneSulpicianus, despite some furious whispering in his ear byLentulus, and somewhat to my surprise, Lucullus as well, seemedcompletely unable to think of a question that would begin tounravel the mystery of Scribonius' name missing from the listentered into the record at the end of the campaign. When he finallymanaged to stand up to approach Scribonius, everyone in the roomwas openly fidgeting, and the Senior Tribune gave the appearance ofa man who had just been forced to eat a whole lemon.
"Evocatus Scribonius," Sulpicianus began,his eyes fixed on a tablet where Lentulus had furiously scribbledsomething. "You
