“I should think not, considering the company you are keeping. Why are you here?”
“I respect Cato’s Stoic beliefs, I do, but I am no ascetic. My uncle would have me in sackcloth, exercising five times a day and eating birdseed. You should taste the wine at his table: it is unfit even for his slaves. To answer your question directly, I am here at Caesar’s bidding. He need but ask and I will see it through.”
“He does not share your politics. He, like myself, stands for a new Rome, a people’s Rome.”
“My friendship is immovable, but I may yet nudge his devotion away from the populares. Rome has had its fill of kings. The senate must remain inviolate to protect us against a return to dictatorship.”
“Truly, your uncle is a greater influence upon you than Caesar. I am more of a pragmatist. There are more citizens than senators. Ironically, of the three of us, Pompeius may be more easily moved. That is, if you don’t conspire to kill him again.”
“The conspiracy was never proved and the charge dismissed! Three years ago.”
Crassus smiled and emptied his cup. “True, yet your name held a place of prominence in the debate.”
“You bait me, sir, but I shall not rise. For if you know this much, you also know that it was Caesar who had my name stricken from the list of conspirators. Another reason for my loyalty.”
“Caesar is nothing if not persuasive. You will never find a more loyal supporter. One does wonder, though. If I make a list for the market, does that list not imply my intent to go shopping? Well, the hour grows beyond late.” Crassus swung his feet to the floor, which awakened something in Brutus. He also rose to a sitting position.
“At least let me applaud you for ‘winning’ the consulship a second time. I am surprised, though, that you chose Syria for your proconsulship.”
“ If fortune favors me and the people demand it, yes, I would serve again. As for Syria, who can say what a year will bring. Truth be told, if it should come to pass, I wasn’t actually planning on going.”
“Why on earth not?”
“Why bother? One of my legates will do just as nicely. The money will come in all the same, and these bones are not quite as fond of travel as they used to be. Did you know Pompeius isn’t going to Hispania? He also plans on remaining in Rome. I fear more for the fate of Rome. He is an inept governor and a worse politician. Pompeius will make a mess of it if I don’t stay close by.” Crassus began gathering his robes about him.
“Notwithstanding any other disagreements we may have between us, at least we may agree regarding Pompeius.”
“What’s the time, do you suppose?”
“Isn’t it bad luck to look for a water clock in the midst of a celebration?”
“The celebration is long over. I’m tired. My wife will be worried.”
“A wife. Yes, I must arrange for one as soon as I return to Rome. There is nothing that gives one’s career a boost so much as a politically advantageous union. That, or a successful military campaign. But I don’t need to tell this to the champion of the Servile War, do I?”
“Do you mock me, boy?” That time my master did use the word. I was well pleased.
“Never! Caesar was wrong to dismiss the injustice done to you with his denigrating tone. Few will admit it, but Spartacus was a worthy adversary.”
“Spartacus was a rabid dog that needed putting down. What could you know of the uprising? You were no more than a child at the time.”
“Forgive me. I meant more than mere respect. I intended admiration. Every Roman who values the safety and sanctity of the republic is indebted to you. And I was twelve, by the way.”
“Then you will know that it was Pompeius who received the honor for that victory.”
“The man comes running with a mop after you have scoured the house clean from top to bottom, and they give him a triumph for it. You were passed over, sir, plain and simple. Politics defeated you, not Pompeius. The senate had no choice. Their public position had to be that this was nothing more than a minor irritation from a mob of unruly slaves. To do otherwise would create panic among our citizens and hope among those who serve us. They gave you imperium to defeat Spartacus; how then could they confer upon you the Republic’s highest honor if the rebellion was the minor scuffle they advertized?”
“They gave it to Pompeius,” Crassus said bitterly.
“It was a war and every Roman knows who won it. No more difficult or demanding campaign was ever fought on or off Italian soil.”
“It pleases me to hear you say so. It pleases me very much indeed.” I watched Brutus smile into his drinking bowl. There was no friendship in that grin. Marcus Brutus was plucking the strings of flattery, and my master was all too quick to leap to the dance.
“ Dominus, forgive me, but I must… “
“No you must not!” Brutus shouted. “Can’t you see we’re talking here, man?”
Crassus sat up with a grunt. “It’s all right, Marcus Brutus, the hour is late, for young and old alike. Let us put an amicable end to it, shall we?”
Brutus cracked the kinks from his neck by rolling his head around. I watched him glance at one of Caesar’s slaves standing in the shadows in a corner by the entrance to the triclinium. This man glanced outside the dining room to a floor lamp in the hallway whose wicks remained lit. The servant subtly but clearly shook his head. “Forgive me, general,” Brutus said. I had purposed to ask you earlier, but your good fellowship has made hours grow wings. If I may, I need your advice on a delicate matter. If you wouldn’t mind…”
“ Dominus,” I said, risking a beating, “I really must speak with you.”
“Damn it!” Brutus yelled. “What insolence is this?”
“Alexander, if you wish to retire, I will see myself…”
“No, dominus. It is not for myself. But I must speak with…”
“Have you no control over your people?” Brutus asked. He turned to me and hissed through clenched teeth, “Shut your fucking, contemptuous mouth.”
“All right, son, that’s enough. Just a few more minutes, Alexander. Go on, Marcus Junius, but I must ask you to be quick about it. We must all retire.”
“Many thanks,” he said, searing me with a glance. “Apologies — a moment to compose myself.” Brutus adjusted his toga, ran a hand through his short, wavy hair and took several calming breaths. He called for more wine and took his time bringing the cup to his lips. Every action superfluous. He was stalling for time, but dominus could not see it. “Here’s the thing of it,” he said finally. “It is true that I have returned from Cyprus with a respectable sum. First I would ask for your confidence in this matter. As a supporter of the merchant class, you know it is an impossible law that prevents honest men from making a living while they seek a life in politics.” Crassus nodded. “You are also aware that even a talent of silver grows weak if it is idle and not exercised from one year to the next. I can think of no Roman who may better advise me how to invest this capital.”
“I am happy to do so. Forgive the brevity of my answer, Brutus, but know that a simple response makes it no less prudent. Diversify, that is the advice I give you. Place some of your investments in latifundia, for the large farms will always prosper as long as the world has mouths to feed. But do not neglect the city: insulae have always made money for me. Look for quality: the best real estate will always appreciate in value. Do not restrict your properties to Italy. The mints are ever-active; buy productive mines wherever you may find them throughout our provinces. Finally, and I can think of no better advice for a man of business: treat your tenants and your workers well, create loyalty with generosity; do not stint on those who daily bear the responsibility to make your money grow. You will see the largest returns from that investment.”
“I am in your debt. I was right to seek your counsel.”
Marcus Brutus held Crassus in conversation for several more minutes. Crassus would have retired, but every time he tried to rise, Cato’s nephew found another way to detain him. Over such trivialities may lives be made or unmade. Crassus rose finally and steadied himself on the arm of the lectus. “Forgive me, sir. If I stay one more minute, it will be the end of my marriage. I’ve enjoyed the company and the conversation, but now, I’m for bed!”