Lustrum

'You can't help but admire the fellow,' said Cicero, after he had paced around the room three or four times. 'Here am I, about to become the pre-eminent man in Rome, while he hasn't even made it to praetor yet. But I am the one who must dance attendance on him!'

After a while I became aware that we were being watched from behind a door by a solemn-faced girl of about ten who must have been Caesar's daughter, Julia. I smiled at her and she darted away. A little while later, Caesar's mother, Aurelia, emerged from the same room. Her narrow, dark-eyed, watchful face, like Caesar's, had something of the bird of prey about it, and she exuded a similar air of chilly cordiality. Cicero had been acquainted with her for many years. All three of her brothers, the Cottas, had been consul, and if Aurelia had been born a man, she would certainly have achieved the rank herself, for she was shrewder and braver than any of them. As it was, she had to content herself with furthering the career of her son, and when her eldest brother died she fixed it so that Caesar would take his place as one of the fifteen members of the College of Priests – a brilliant move, as I shall soon describe.

'Forgive him, Cicero, for his rudeness,' she said. 'I've reminded him you're here, but you know how he is.' There was a footstep and we glanced behind us to see a woman in the passage leading to the door. No doubt she had hoped to slip past unnoticed, but one of her shoes must have come undone. Leaning against the wall to refasten it, her auburn hair awry, she glanced guiltily in our direction, and I do not know who was the more embarrassed: Postumia – which was the woman's name – or Cicero, for he knew her very well as the wife of his great friend the jurist and senator Servius Sulpicius. Indeed, she was due to have dinner with Cicero that very evening.

He quickly turned his attention back to the bronze of Venus and pretended to be in the middle of a conversation – 'This is very fine: is it a Myron?' – and did not look up until she had gone.

'That was tactfully done,' said Aurelia approvingly, then her expression darkened and she shook her head. 'I don't reproach my son for his liaisons – men will be men – but some of these modern women are shameless beyond belief.'

'What are you two gossiping about?'

It was a trick of Caesar's, in both war and peace, to appear unexpectedly from the rear, and at the sound of that flint-dry voice we all three turned. I can see him now, his large head looming skull-like in the dimming afternoon light. People ask me about him all the time: 'You met Caesar? What was he like? Tell us what he was like – the great god Caesar!' Well, I remember him most as a curious combination of hard and soft – the muscles of a soldier within the loosely belted tunic of an effete dandy; the sharp sweat of the exercise yard laid over by the sweet scent of crocus oil; pitiless ambition sheathed in honeyed charm. 'Be wary of her, Cicero,' he continued, emerging from the shadows. 'She's twice the politician we are, aren't you, Mama?' He caught her by the waist from behind and kissed her beneath her ear.

'Now stop that,' she said, freeing herself and pretending to be annoyed. 'I've played the hostess long enough. Where's your wife? It's not seemly for her to be out unaccompanied all the time. Send her to me the moment she returns.' She inclined her head graciously towards Cicero. 'My best wishes to you for tomorrow. It's a remarkable achievement to be the first in one's family to achieve the consulship.'

Caesar watched her go admiringly. 'Seriously, Cicero,' he said, 'the women in this city are far more formidable than the men, your own wife being a fine example.'

Was Caesar hinting by this remark that he desired to seduce Terentia? I doubt it. The most hostile tribe of Gaul would have been a less gruelling conquest. But I could see Cicero bridling. 'I'm not here to discuss the women of Rome,' he said, 'expert though you may be.'

'Then why have you come?'

Cicero nodded to me. I opened my document case and handed Caesar the writ.

'Are you trying to corrupt me?' responded Caesar with a smile, handing it straight back to me. 'I can't discuss this. I'm to be a judge.'

'I want you to acquit Rabirius of these charges.'

Caesar chuckled in that mirthless way of his, and tucked a thin strand of hair behind his ear. 'No doubt you do.'

'Now, Caesar,' said Cicero with an edge of impatience in his voice, 'let's speak plainly. Everyone knows that you and Crassus give the tribunes their orders. I doubt whether Labienus even knew the name of this wretched uncle of his until you put it into his head. As for Sura – he would have thought perduellio was a fish unless someone told him otherwise. This is yet another of your designs.'

'Really, I cannot speak about a case I have to judge.'

'Admit it: the true purpose of this prosecution is to intimidate the senate.'

'You must direct your questions to Labienus.'

'I'm directing them to you.'

'Very well, since you press me, I'd rather call it a reminder to the senate that if they trample on the dignity of the people by killing their representatives, the people will have their vengeance, however long it takes.'

'And you really think you'll enhance the dignity of the people by terrorising a helpless old man? I've just come from Rabirius. His wits have been entirely withered by age. He has no idea what's going on.'

'If he's no idea what's going on, how can he be terrorised?'

There was quite a long pause, then Cicero said, in a different tone, 'Listen, my dear Gaius, we've been good friends for many years.' (This was putting it a bit strong, I thought.) 'May I give you some friendly advice, in the manner of an older brother to his junior? A glittering career lies ahead of you. You're young-'

'Not that young! I'm already three years older than Alexander the Great was when he died.'

Cicero laughed politely; he thought Caesar was joking. 'You're young,' he repeated. 'You have a powerful reputation. Why jeopardise it by provoking such a confrontation? Killing Rabirius will not only set the people against the senate, it will be a stain on your honour. It might play well with the mob today, but it will count against you tomorrow with all the sensible men.'

'I'll take the risk.'

'You do realise that as consul I'll be obliged to defend him?'

'Well, that would be a grave error, Marcus – if I may respond with equal friendliness? Consider the balance of forces that will be ranged against you. We have the support of the people, the tribunes, half the praetors – why, even Antonius Hybrida, your own consular colleague, is on our side! Who does that leave you with? The patricians? But they despise you. They'll throw you over the moment you're of no use to them. As I see it, you have only one choice.'

'Which is?'

'To join us.'

'Ah.' Cicero had a habit when he was weighing someone up of resting his chin in the palm of his hand. He contemplated Caesar in this way for a while. 'And what would that entail?'

'Support for our bill.'

'And in return?'

'I dare say my cousin and I can find it in our hearts to show some compassion to poor Rabirius, on the grounds of his impaired mind.' Caesar's thin lips smiled but his dark eyes stayed fixed on Cicero. 'What do you say?'

Before Cicero could respond, we were interrupted by the arrival home of Caesar's wife. Some say that Caesar married this woman, whose name was Pompeia, purely at the urging of his mother, for the girl had useful family connections in the senate. But on the basis of what I saw that afternoon, I should say her attractions belonged to a more obvious sphere. She was much younger than he, barely twenty, and the cold had imparted a pretty blush to her creamy throat and cheeks, and a sparkle to her large grey eyes. She embraced her husband, arching against him like a cat, and then made an almost equal fuss of Cicero, flattering him for his speeches and even a volume of his poetry she claimed to have read. It occurred to me that she was drunk. Caesar regarded her with amusement.