Lustrum

'But we are meddling in places we know nothing about! Now we have occupied Syria. Syria! What business do we have in Syria? Next it will be Egypt. This is going to require permanent legions stationed overseas. And whoever commands the legions needed to control this empire, be it Pompey or someone else, will ultimately control Rome, and whoever raises a voice against it will be condemned for his lack of patriotism. The republic will be finished. The consuls will simply manage the civilian side of things, on behalf of some generalissimo overseas.'

'No one doubts that there are dangers, Cato. But this is the business of politics – to surmount each challenge as it appears and be ready to deal with the next. The best analogy for statesmanship in my opinion is navigation – now you use the oars and now you sail, now you run before a wind and now you tack into it, now you catch a tide and now you ride it out. All this takes years of skill and study, not some manual written by Zeno.'

'And where does it take you, this voyage of yours?'

'A very pleasant destination called survival.'

'Ha!' Cato's laugh was as disconcerting as it was rare: a kind of harsh, humourless bark. 'Some of us hope to arrive at a more inspiring land than that! But it will require a different kind of seamanship to yours. These will be my precepts,' he said, and he proceeded to count them off on his long and bony fingers: 'Never be moved by favour. Never appease. Never forgive a wrong. Never differentiate between things that are wrong – what is wrong is wrong, whatever the size of the misdemeanour, and that is the end of the matter. And finally, never compromise on any of these principles. “The man who has the strength to follow them-”'

'“-is always handsome however misshapen, always rich however needy, always a king however much a slave.” I am familiar with the quotation, thank you, and if you want to go and live a quiet life in an academy somewhere, and apply your philosophy to your chickens and your fellow pupils, it might possibly even work. But if you want to run this republic, you will need more books in your library than a single volume.'

'This is a waste of time. It is obvious you will never support me.'

'On the contrary, I shall certainly vote for you. Watching you as a tribune promises to be one of the most entertaining spectacles Rome will ever have seen.'

After Cato had gone, Cicero said to me, 'That man is at least half mad, and yet there is something to him.'

'Will he win?'

'Of course. A man with the name of Marcus Porcius Cato will always rise in Rome. And he has a point about Pompey. How do we contain him?' He thought for a while. 'Send a message to Nepos enquiring if he has recovered from his journey, and inviting him to attend a military council at the end of tomorrow's session of the senate.'

I did as commanded, and the message duly came back that Nepos was at the consul's disposal. So after the house was adjourned the following afternoon, Cicero asked a few senior ex-consuls with military experience to remain behind, in order to receive a more detailed report from Nepos of Pompey's plans. Crassus, who had tasted the delights both of the consulship and of the power that flows from great wealth, was increasingly obsessed with the one thing he had never had – military glory – and he was anxious to be included in this council of war. He even lingered around the consul's chair in the hope of an invitation. But Cicero despised him more than anyone except Catilina, and delighted in this opportunity to snub his old adversary. He ignored him so pointedly that eventually Crassus stamped off in a rage, leaving a dozen or so grey-headed senators gathered around Nepos. I stood discreetly to one side, taking notes.

It was shrewd of Cicero to include in this conclave men like Gaius Curio, who had won a triumph a decade earlier, and Marcus Lucullus, Lucius's younger brother, for my master's gravest weakness as a statesman was his ignorance of military affairs. In his youth, in delicate health, he had hated everything about military life – the raw discomfort, the boneheaded discipine, the dull camaraderie of the camp – and had retreated as soon as possible to his studies. Now he felt his inexperience keenly, and he had to leave it to the likes of Curio and Lucullus, Catulus and Isauricus, to question Nepos. They soon established that Pompey had a force of eight well-equipped legions, with his personal headquarters encamped – at any rate the last time Nepos had seen him – south of Judaea, a few hundred miles from the city of Petra. Cicero invited opinions.

'As I see it, there are two options for the remainder of the year,' said Curio, who had fought in the East under Sulla. 'One is to march north to the Cimmerian Bosphorus, aim for the port of Pantikapaion, and bring the Caucasus into the empire. The other, which personally I would favour, is to strike east and settle affairs with Parthia once and for all.'

'There is a third choice, don't forget,' added Isauricus. 'Egypt. It's ours for the taking, after Ptolemy left it to us in his will. I say he should go west.'

'Or south,' suggested M. Lucullus. 'What's wrong with pressing on to Petra? There's very fertile land beyond the city, down on that coast.'

'North, east, west or south,' summed up Cicero. 'It seems Pompey is spoilt for choice. Do you know which he favours, Nepos? I am sure the senate will ratify his decision, whatever it may be.'

'Actually, I understand he favours withdrawing,' said Nepos.

The deep silence that followed was broken by Isauricus. ' Withdrawing? ' he repeated in astonishment. 'What do you mean, withdrawing? He has forty thousand seasoned men at his disposal, with nothing to stop them in any direction.'

'“Seasoned” is your word for them. “Exhausted” would be more accurate. Some of them have been fighting and marching out there for more than a decade.'

There was another pause as the implications of this settled over the gathering.

Cicero said, 'Do you mean to tell us he wants to bring them all back to Italy?'

'Why not? It is their home, after all. And Pompey has signed some extremely effective treaties with the local rulers. His personal prestige is worth a dozen legions. Do you know what they now call him in the East?'

'Please tell us.'

'“The Warden of Land and Sea.”'

Cicero glanced around the faces of the former consuls. Most wore expressions of incredulity. 'I think I speak for all of us, Nepos, when I tell you that the senate would not be happy with a complete withdrawal.'

'Absolutely not,' said Catulus, and all the grey heads nodded in agreement.

'In which case, what I propose is this,' continued Cicero. 'That we send a message back with you to Pompey, conveying – obviously – our pride and delight and gratitude for his mighty feats of arms, but also our desire that he should leave the army in place for a fresh campaign. Of course, if he wants to lay down the burden of command, after so many years of service, the whole of Rome would understand, and warmly welcome home her most distinguished son-'

'You can suggest whatever you like,' interrupted Nepos rudely, 'but I shan't be carrying the message. I'm staying in Rome. Pompey has discharged me from military service, and it is my intention to canvass for election as tribune. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have other business to attend to.'

Isauricus swore as he watched the young officer swagger out of the chamber. 'He wouldn't have dared talk like that if his father had still been alive. What kind of generation have we bred?'

'And if that's how a puppy like Nepos speaks to us,' said Curio, 'imagine what his master will be like, with forty thousand legionaries behind him.'

'“The Warden of Land and Sea”', murmured Cicero. 'I suppose we should be grateful he's left us the air.' That drew some laughter. 'I wonder what pressing matter Nepos has to attend to that's more important than talking to us.' He beckoned me over, and whispered in my ear, 'Run after him, Tiro. See where he goes.'