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“They are for the benefit of Claudius, a means to extend his political patronage! By giving them jobs, he buys the loyalty of the thousands of citizens he employs. No doubt he is also enriching himself!”

Kaeso frowned. “Are you accusing him of embezzling public funds?”

Quintus grunted. “I wouldn’t put it past him! You’re young, Kaeso. You haven’t yet seen enough of the world to judge a man’s character. Believe me, Claudius is not the sort of man with whom our sort should associate.”

“But surely he’s as patrician as you or I,” said Kaeso.

Did Quintus hesitate before replying? Was he thinking of Kaeso’s origin by adoption, and his uncertain bloodline? He shook his head. “The Claudii have always been vain and self-important, but at least in the old days they were rock solid in their support of patrician privilege. Appius Claudius has done an about-face and made himself a champion of the lower classes. Oh, he pays lip service to patrician ideals—the glory of the ancestors and the founders of the Republic—but at heart the man is a demagogue. He panders to the rabble. He flirts with dangerous democratic ideas, which he probably picked up from reading those wretched Greek philosophers he admires. He should never have been given control of the citizen rolls.”

“But as censor, that’s his duty.”

“To update the rolls, yes, but not to tinker with them, and in a most irresponsible fashion. Oh, he’ll tell you he’s simply reorganizing the voting blocks to make them more efficient, but his scheme is to make elections more democratic and less weighted to the blocks dominated by patricians—a very dangerous idea! The founders, in their wisdom, designed the electoral process deliberately to give more influence to those families whose achievements long ago earned them a special place in the state. Nothing must be done to erode that system. It has served Roma well since the birth of the Republic. It will serve us just as well for another two hundred years.

“Even worse, young man, is Claudius’s abuse of the censor’s right to fill vacancies in the Senate. Every vacancy is filled with a man loyal to Claudius—and some of those new senators are the sons of freedmen! Such a degradation of the Senate would have been unthinkable in my grandfather’s day. What have we come to?”

“Times change, cousin,” said Kaeso.

“And seldom for the better! Once a radical idea takes root, no one can predict how fast or how far it will spread. Consider the consulship. For a very long time, only patricians were able to get themselves elected to the highest office, shutting out the plebeians. The patricians’ exclusive claim on the consulship became a tradition, which eventually took on the force of law. But the so-called reformers objected, and fifty-five years ago, they managed to pass a law that allowed one of the two consuls to be a plebeian. A matter of fairness, said the reformers; if a plebeian is clever enough to get himself elected consul, then why not? But that was only the beginning. Thirty years ago, the reformers passed another law, and this one mandated that one of the consuls must be a plebeian! Where will it end? Such changes are always due to rabble-rousers like Appius Claudius, traitors to their patrician blood. Claudius is a dangerous man. You should steer clear of him.”

Kaeso sighed. “Cousin Quintus, please understand. I share your political views. How could I not? They’re the ideas my father imparted to me while I was growing up. But just as I convinced my father to allow me to work under Claudius, so I hope that I can convince you to lift your objections. I have no intention of aiding or abetting Appius Claudius in any rabble-rousing schemes. But the aqueduct and the new road are being built, no matter what objections you may have, and I want to have a hand in them. If such projects yield political benefits, then why should Claudius be the sole beneficiary? Why should there not be a Fabius involved in the projects, learning how the process works? In years to come, more roads and aqueducts will be built, and when that happens, I want it to be a Fabius who takes the credit and reaps the benefits.”

Quintus shook his head. “You walk a dangerous path, Kaeso. To learn a bit about building and engineering is not a bad thing. But Claudius is a devious man, and charming. He may yet seduce you to his way of thinking.”

“I assure you, cousin, he will not. Would it set your mind at rest if I were to promise you that I will not learn a word of Greek? It would be an easy promise, as I seem incapable of doing so, anyway.”

Quintus begrudged him a faint smile. “Kaeso, Kaeso! Very well. Since you’ve convinced your father to acquiesce to this arrangement, then I shall not object, at least not publicly. I’ll keep my mouth shut, and hope that you know what you’re doing.” He glanced at the rows of wax effigies in their niches. “Always remember your ancestry, Kaeso, and preserve the dignity of your name!” Did he once again hesitate and blink, as he looked from the faces of the deceased Fabii to the face of Kaeso, which bore no family resemblance?

“But I asked you here for another reason,” said Quintus. “I have something for you—that is, if you’re still interested. Come with me.”

Kaeso followed him to a room where the walls were lined with pigeonhole bookcases stuffed with scrolls. On tables here and there, unfurled documents were laid flat for perusal with paperweights to hold down the corners. The library of Quintus Fabius was smaller than that of Appius Claudius, and its contents were quite different. Here there was not a Greek text to be found or any volumes pertaining to the history of foreign peoples. All the documents in the library of Quintus Fabius had to do with legal matters, property claims, monetary transactions, family history, or genealogy.

“You expressed an interest in seeing the various documents regarding the investigation I conducted many years ago, as curule aedile, into the mass poisonings in the city. They were a bit scattered, but I believe I’ve managed to gather them in one place.” Quintus indicated a tube made of leather, into which a great many scrolls, rolled together, had been inserted. “This is the dossier pertaining to the case. Of course, I realize that your studies under Appius Claudius may be claiming all of your time and attention—”

“Not at all, cousin Quintus! I’m very grateful that you remembered my interest in the matter, and that you went to so much trouble to make these available to me.” In fact, in the excitement of his work for Claudius, Kaeso had completely forgotten the discussion about the poisonings, but it would hardly do for him to say so. Did his cousin intend for him to sit here in the library, examining the documents? Kaeso did not have time; he was eager to get home so that he could perform a task which Claudius had assigned to him, recalculating the measurements for a section of the aqueduct. “Would it be possible for me to take this with me, so that I can peruse the contents at my leisure?”

Quintus frowned. “Usually, I would never allow any of these documents to leave my possession. Some contain sensitive information. Many are irreplaceable. But…why not? I ask only that you be very careful with them, and return them in due course. Hopefully, they’ll give you some insight into the challenges and responsibilities of holding a magistracy. A life of public service can be very demanding, but also very rewarding. You must think of your future, Kaeso, beyond this work you’re doing for the censor.”

“This is very kind of you, cousin. I shall look at them tonight.”

 

As it turned out, laboring under the flickering light of a hydra-headed lamp that hung from the ceiling of his room, Kaeso worked much too late that night to bother looking at the documents from Quintus. He finally fell into bed, exhausted.

But he did not sleep well. Perhaps his head was too full of numbers. Perhaps the disapproval of his cousin weighed on him more heavily than he realized.

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