Roma.The novel of ancient Rome - Saylor Steven - Страница 117

• Предыдущая
• 117/146
• Следующая

“And…one hears that wolves ran off with the city boundary markers,” said Lucius.

“That is a downright lie, put about by my enemies!” snapped Gaius. He shut his eyes and drew a breath. “Where is Licinius with that pipe of his, to calm me? The important thing is that, despite all obstacles, Carthage is being reborn as a colony of Roma.” He smiled. “There’ll be plenty of work for you down there, Lucius, if you ever run out of road-building projects here in Italy. What have you been up to while I was away?”

Lucius considered his reply, glad for a change of subject, then laughed out loud.

“If you have something to laugh at,” said Gaius, “then, by Hercules, share it with me!”

“Very well. A few days ago, I was down in the Forum Boarium. There was a long line of men and women queued up with vouchers to purchase their share from the state grain supply. Who should I see standing patiently in the line but that old toad, Piso Frugi.”

“Piso Frugi? I don’t believe it!”

“The very senator who argued most vehemently against establishing the grain subsidy! I stood there gaping at him for a bit, then I finally asked him, ‘How dare you benefit from a law you so bitterly opposed?’”

“And what did he say?”

“The old miser blinked at me, then turned up his nose. ‘If that thief Gaius Gracchus had stolen all my shoes and divided them among the citizenry, and the only way to get back even a single shoe was to stand in line with everyone else, I’d do so, purely as a matter of principle. Instead, he pilfers the treasury to buy grain for his minions. So, yes, I’ll stand in this line, because I intend to get back whatever share I can!’”

Gaius shook his head. “Unbelievable! Have you noticed how the men who argue most loudly against public benefits always elbow their way to the front of the line when those benefits are handed out?”

“My thought exactly!”

“What else has happened in Roma while I was away?” Gaius spoke lightly, but the look in his eyes lent weight to the question. When Lucius hesitated to answer, he grunted in exasperation. “Come, Lucius, tell me the worst! It’s Livius Drusus, isn’t it? What has that vile backstabber been up to?”

The trouble with Gaius’s fellow tribune had begun before Gaius left for Africa. Gaius’s departure should have been marked by a crowning achievement: the popular assembly’s approval of a law extending citizenship to Roma’s Italian allies. But at the last moment, the tribune Livius Drusus, who had always supported Gaius’s reforms, held rallies against the legislation, appealing in the basest way to the mob’s self-interest. “Do you think it’s hard now, finding a good spot at the theater?” he asked. “Just wait until all the Italians come to town to enjoy our festivals! Do you like standing in long lines at the public feasts, or queuing for the grain subsidy? Then you’ll love it when all those Italians slip ahead of you! Would you have every one of your privileges diluted, just so Gaius Gracchus can curry favor with his new friends?” When Drusus vetoed the legislation, he did so with popular support. It was a stinging defeat for Gaius on the eve of his departure.

“Drusus hasn’t been idle in your absence,” admitted Lucius. “In fact, he’s been relentless in his efforts to undermine your support. People say he ‘out-Gracchuses Gaius Gracchus.’”

“Explain.”

“First, he proposed establishing colonies for veterans on even more generous terms than those which you proposed. Then he accused you of exploiting the poor-”

“What!”

“-because your laws charge the people rent if they wish to farm state land.”

“The rent is nominal! It was a necessary concession to gain broader support for the law.”

“Drusus proposes legislation that allows the poor to farm state land free of charge.”

“And what do the hidebound reactionaries in the Senate say to that?”

“They support Drusus at every turn. Don’t you see? Drusus is their straw man. By ‘out-Gracchusing’ you, he steals your supporters. Temporarily, your enemies are willing to legislate against their own selfish interests, to throw a few bones to the common people.”

“But once I’ve been neutralized, they’ll be free to spit in the people’s faces and proceed as before.”

“Exactly. Sadly, the common citizens seem unable to see through Drusus’s facade. They’ve been won over by his blatant pandering.”

Gaius’s shoulders sagged. He looked utterly exhausted. “In my first year as tribune, nothing could go wrong. In my second year, nothing has gone right! I can only hope that in my third year-”

“A third term as tribune? Gaius, that’s not possible. You were allowed a second year only because of the legal technicality Tiberius hoped to exploit-not enough men ran to fill all ten positions. To pull that off required the cooperation of men who would normally have been your rivals.”

“And the same thing will happen again this year, because the people will demand it!”

Lucius thought otherwise, but held his tongue.

121 B.C.

“They’ll goad me to violence if they can. That’s what they want: to corner me, dishonor me, drive me to such desperation that I’ll strike back. Then they can destroy me, and claim they did it for the sake of Roma.”

Gaius nervously paced the pathway beneath the peristyle, circling the overgrown garden of his house in the Subura. Since failing to win a third term as tribune, his position had grown increasingly precarious.

“The election was a farce,” he said, “rife with illegalities-”

“This is old ground, Gaius. We’ve covered it many times before. The past can’t be undone.” Lucius, who had never been one to pace, was as still as the column he leaned against. His fretting took place inside, unseen.

When would Gaius stop going on about the stolen election? The hard fact was that his support had waned considerably by election day; the undermining strategy of his enemies had worked just as they planned. After the election, during his final days in office, Gaius’s influence had continued to dwindle. His frustration had given way to recklessness.

“I admit, it was a mistake-”

“A crucial mistake.”

“-when I ordered my supporters to demolish the wooden seats erected for that gladiator match. I had good reason to do so. A paid seating area for the rich obscures the view of the poor-”

“But you resorted to violence.”

“Property was damaged. No one was hurt, not seriously.”

“You incited a riot, Gaius. You played into the hands of your enemies. They call you a dangerous rabble-rouser, a violent demagogue.” Lucius sighed. They had been over this ground many times before.

Now that Gaius was out of office, his enemies were systematically repealing the laws he had passed, erasing his accomplishments. Today had brought the worst news yet. The Senate was scheduled to debate revoking the charter to establish Junonia. The colony that was to have been Gaius’s most enduring monument-establishing forever a link from his grandfather, the conqueror of Hannibal, to his brother, the first to scale the walls of Carthage, to himself, the founder of Junonia-was to be abandoned.

Gaius was bitter. He was also fearful. He had become convinced that his enemies would settle for nothing less than his blood.

“Is it true, what people are saying about Cornelia’s…charity?” said Lucius.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother set up a program to bring unemployed reapers from the countryside into Roma to look for work.”

“Everyone knows that. Even Piso Frugi didn’t object. The reapers provide cheap labor.”

“Some say the program is only a pretext, a way to swell the number of your loyal supporters in the city-just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“The violence that both sides are preparing for.” Lucius looked over his shoulder. Some of the reapers were in Gaius’s house at that very moment, milling about, restless, armed with staves and scythes. “What’s going to happen, Gaius?”

• Предыдущая
• 117/146
• Следующая