Roma.The novel of ancient Rome - Saylor Steven - Страница 127

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The Forum was empty. His footsteps echoed as he hurried over the paving stones. Passing near the Rostra, he felt a sudden chill. He looked up and saw the gilded statue of Sulla in silhouette; the sun, behind the statue’s head, gave it a scintillating halo. Even in death, the dictator cast a cold shadow across his life.

74 B.C.

The winter of that year was unusually harsh. One storm after another dropped sleet and rain on the city. On many mornings the valleys brimmed with a cold, white mist, like bowls filled with milk, and the hills were glazed with frost, making the winding, paved streets that ran up and down the hillsides treacherous underfoot.

Lucius Pinarius contracted a cold early in the winter, and could not shake it off; the ailment moved from one part of his body to another, but would not depart. He ventured out seldom, and received few visitors. Only belatedly, from a talkative workman who came to repair a leak in his roof, did he learn the news that every gossip in the Forum already knew: Gaius Julius Caesar, while traveling in the Aegean, had been kidnapped by pirates.

Lucius had not seen Julia, or his son, for many months. His rare visits were too painful and awkward for all concerned. But hearing of her brother’s misfortune, he knew that Julia must be distraught, and he felt compelled to see her.

Coughing violently, Lucius put on a heavy woolen cloak. A single slave accompanied him through the dank, frosty streets to the far side of the Palatine, where Julia lived with her husband, Quintus Pedius.

The marriage had apparently worked out well for her. In its early days, however unhappy she might have been, the prudent thing had been to make the best of it, since there was no way of knowing how long Sulla would reign as dictator. Julia had adapted quickly to her new circumstances; like her brother, she was a survivor, thought Lucius bitterly. Lucius, too, had adapted, in his own fashion. Simply to keep from going mad, early on he had banished from his thoughts any notion that Julia might someday divorce Pedius and remarry him. After Sulla’s death, the notion occasionally entered his thoughts, especially when his loneliness was most acute. But the act of submitting to Sulla had robbed him of his dignity as a Roman; without dignity, he had neither the authority nor the will to take back what had been his. It was useless to blame the gods, or Gaius, or even Sulla. A man must endure his own fate.

A door slave admitted him to Pedius’s house. Looking surprised and not a little wary, Julia met him in a room off the garden where a brazier was blazing and shutters had been closed to keep out the cold.

The sight of her was like a knife in his heart. Even through the loose folds of her stola he could see that she was pregnant. She saw him staring at her belly, and lowered her eyes.

The phlegm rattled in his chest. He fought against the need to cough. “I came because I heard the news about your brother.”

Julia drew a sharp breath. “What have you heard?”

“That he was kidnapped by pirates.”

“And?”

“Only that.”

Julia wrinkled her brow. This was old news. He had alarmed her by making her think he knew something she did not, and now she was peeved at him.

“If there’s anything I can do…,” he said lamely.

“That’s kind of you, Lucius, but Quintus and I managed to raise the ransom. It was sent some time ago. All we can do now is wait.”

“I see.”

A faint smile lit Julia’s lips. “His captors must be illiterate. If they had read what Gaius says about them in his letters, they’d never have allowed him to send them.”

“His letters?”

“That’s how we found out about his situation. ‘Dear sister, I am held captive,’ he wrote-ever so matter-of-factly! ‘Could you be so kind as to raise a bit of ransom for me?’ Then he went on to write the most scathing insults about his captors, how uncouth they are, how stupid. To hear Gaius tell it, he’s lording it over them-ordering them about, demanding decent food and more comfortable sleeping quarters, even trying to teach them some manners. ‘One must use a tone of authority with such creatures, as one does with a dog.’ As if the whole experience is simply a learning exercise for him-the proper way to handle a pirate crew!” She lowered her eyes. “Of course, his bravado may be an attempt to reassure me and to keep up his own spirits. These men are thieves and murderers, after all. The things they do to people…the terrible stories one hears…”

Julia trembled and her voice broke. It was all Lucius could do not to rush to her and take her in his arms. He resisted the impulse because he had no right to do so, and because he could not bear it if she pushed him away.

“Gaius is a survivor,” said Lucius; like his sister, he thought. “I’m sure he’ll be alright.” He coughed into his sleeve.

“Lucius, you’re unwell.”

“It sounds worse than it is. I should go home now. I merely came to offer…” He shrugged. “I don’t know why I came.”

Julia gazed into the flames of the brazier. “Did you want to see…?”

“Probably it’s best if I don’t.”

“He’s growing up very fast. Only six, and able to read already! He knows about his uncle. He has bad dreams about pirates. He looks just like you.”

Lucius felt a great weight on his chest, as if a stone were crushing him. It had been a mistake to come. As he was turning to leave, a slave rushed into the room. The man clutched a scrap of parchment, tightly rolled and tied and sealed with wax. When Julia saw it, her eyes grew wide.

“Is it-?

“Yes, mistress. From your brother!”

Julia snatched the letter and unrolled it. She scanned the contents, then began to weep. Lucius braced himself, thinking it must be bad news. Then Julia threw back her head and laughed.

“He’s free! Gaius is alive and well and free! Oh, this is wonderful! Lucius, you must listen to this: ‘Dear sister, for forty days I was held captive against my will. Thanks to the ransom you sent, I was given my freedom. The experience was most disagreeable, but left me little the worse for wear; have no anxieties about my well-being. I cannot say the same about my captors. As soon as I was freed, I set about organizing a party to hunt down the pirates. They provided little sport; the simple-minded fools were eager to spend their ill-gotten gains and headed for the nearest port with a tavern and a brothel. We captured them easily, and recovered a considerable part of the ransom; I shall return as much as I can to you now, and the balance later. As for the pirates, we set up crosses on a hillside visible to all passing ships and crucified them. During my captivity, I warned them that I would see them come to a bad end, and so I did. I watched them die, one by one. By all means, spread this news to everyone in Roma. Between you and me, I am quite proud of how this all turned out. Justice was done and Roman dignity was upheld. The episode shall make a splendid campaign story when it comes time for me to begin the Course of Honor.’”

Julia laughed. “Dear Gaius-always with an eye to the future! I think he shall be consul someday, don’t you?”

Lucius’s mouth was dry. His chest ached from coughing. “Perhaps he’ll be the next Sulla,” he said.

“Lucius! What a terrible thing to say.”

“Or perhaps the next Gracchus-except that your brother will probably succeed where the Gracchi failed.”

Before Julia could respond to this, their son came running into the room. The boy’s elderly Greek tutor followed, looking flustered. “Mistress, I couldn’t stop him. Word’s spread through the house that you’ve received a letter from your brother. Little Lucius wants to know-”

“Where is Uncle Gaius?” shouted the boy. Lucius noticed that he was wearing the fascinum of his ancestors. The sight of the amulet both pleased and pained him. “Where is Uncle Gaius? Do the pirates still have him?”

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