Fortune's Favorites (74 page)

The rage in which Verres wrote his next missive added venom and power to his pen; this one was to Dolabella in Tarsus and it reached Tarsus in a scant seven days, couriered by a petrified trooper who was so afraid of what Verres might do to him if he tarried that he was fully prepared to do murder in order to obtain a fresh horse every few hours.

“Go to Pergamum at once, and at a run,” Verres instructed his superior without formal salute or evidence of respect. “Fetch Claudius Nero to Lampsacus without a moment's delay to try and execute the socii who murdered my chief lictor. If you don't, I will have words to say in Rome about certain debaucheries and drugs. I mean it, Dolabella. And you may tell Claudius Nero that if he does not come to Lampsacus and convict these Greek fellatores, I will accuse him of sordid practices as well. And I'll make the charges stick, Dolabella. Don't think I won't. If I die for it, I'll make the charges stick.”

* * *

When word of the events in Lampsacus reached the court of King Nicomedes, matters had arrived at an impasse; Gaius Verres was still living in the house of Ianitor and moving freely about the city, Ianitor had been ordered to notify the Lampsacan elders that Verres would remain right where he was, and everyone knew Claudius Nero was coming from Pergamum to try the father and son.

“I wish there was something I could do,” said the worried King to Caesar.

“Lampsacus falls within Asia Province, not Bithynia,” said Caesar. “Anything you did do would have to be in diplomatic guise, and I'm not convinced it would help those two unfortunate socii.”

“Gaius Verres is an absolute wolfshead, Caesar. Earlier in the year he robbed sanctuaries of their treasures all over Asia Province, then went on to steal the Harper of Aspendus and the golden skin of Artemis at Perge.”

“How to endear Rome to her provinces,” said Caesar, lifting his lip contemptuously.

“Nothing is safe from the man-including, it seems, virtuous daughters of important Greek socii.”

“What is Verres doing in Lampsacus, anyway?”

Nicomedes shivered. “Coming to see me, Caesar! He carries letters of introduction to me and to King Sadala in Thrace-his governor, Dolabella, has endowed him with ambassadorial status. I imagine his true purpose is to steal our statues and paintings.”

“He won't dare while I'm here, Nicomedes,” soothed Caesar.

The old king's face lit up. “That is what I was going to say. Would you go to Lampsacus as my ambassador so that Gaius Claudius Nero understands Bithynia is watching carefully? I daren't go myself-it might be seen as an armed threat, even if I went without a military escort. My troops are much closer to Lampsacus than are the troops of Asia Province.”

Caesar saw the difficulties this would mean for him before Nicomedes had finished speaking. If he went to Lampsacus to observe events on official behalf of the King of Bithynia, the whole of Rome would assume he was indeed on intimate terms with Nicomedes. Only how could he avoid going? It was, on the surface, a very reasonable request.

“I mustn't appear to be acting for you, King,” he said seriously. “The fate of the two socii is firmly in the hands of the governor of Asia Province, who would not appreciate the presence of a twenty-year-old Roman privatus claiming to be the representative of the King of Bithynia.”

“But I need to know what happens in Lampsacus from someone detached enough not to exaggerate and Roman enough not to side with the Greeks automatically!” Nicomedes protested.

“I didn't say I wouldn't go. I will go. But as a Roman privatus pure and simple-a fellow who chanced to be in the vicinity and whose curiosity got the better of him. That way the hand of Bithynia will not be seen at all, yet I'll be able to provide you with a full report when I return. Then if you feel it necessary, you can lodge a formal complaint with the Senate in Rome, and I will testify.”

Caesar departed the next day, riding overland with no one for company save Burgundus and four servants; he might then have come from anywhere and be on the road to anywhere. Though he wore a leather cuirass and kilt, his favored apparel for riding, he had taken care to pack toga and tunic and senatorial shoes, and to take with him the slave whom he employed to make new Civic Crowns for him out of oak leaves. Unwilling though he was to flaunt himself in the name of King Nicomedes, he fully intended to flaunt himself in his own name.

It was the very end of December when he rode into Lampsacus on the same road Verres had used, to find himself unnoticed; the whole town was down at the quay watching Claudius Nero and Dolabella tie up their considerable fleet. Neither governor was in a good mood, Dolabella because he writhed in the grip of Verres permanently, and Claudius Nero because Dolabella's indiscreet activities now threatened to compromise him also. Their grim faces did not lighten when they learned that suitable lodgings were not to be had, as Ianitor still housed Verres and the only other commodious mansion in Lampsacus belonged to Philodamus, the accused. Publius Tettius had solved the problem by evicting a colleague from his establishment and offering it to Claudius Nero and Dolabella to share between them.

When Claudius Nero received Verres (who was already waiting at the commandeered dwelling when the governor arrived), he learned that he was expected to preside over the court-and to accept Verres as organizer of the prosecution, as a witness, as a member of the jury, and as an ambassador whose official propraetorian status was unimpaired by the events in Lampsacus.

“Ridiculous!” he said to Verres in the hearing of Dolabella, Publius Tettius, and the legate Gaius Terentius Varro.

“What do you mean?” Verres demanded.

“Roman justice is famous. What you propose is a travesty. I have acquitted myself well in my province! As things stand at the moment, I am likely to be replaced in the spring. The same can be said of your superior, Gnaeus Dolabella. I can't speak for him“-Claudius Nero glanced toward the silent Dolabella, who avoided his gaze-”but for myself, I intend to quit my province with a reputation as one of its better governors. This case will probably be my last major one, and I won't condone a travesty.”

The handsome face of Verres grew flintlike. “I want a quick conviction!” he cried. “I want those two Greek socii flogged and beheaded! They murdered a Roman lictor in the course of his duty! If they are allowed to get away with it, Rome's authority is further undermined in a province which still hankers to be ruled by King Mithridates.”

It was a good argument, but it was not the reason why Gaius Claudius Nero ended in yielding. He did that because he had not the strength or the backbone to resist Verres in a face-to-face confrontation. With the exception of Publius Tettius and his houseguest Gaius Terentius Varro, Verres had succeeded in winning over the entire Roman contingent who lived in Lampsacus, and had worked their feelings into a state which threatened the town's peace for many moons to come. It was Roman versus Greek with a vengeance; Claudius Nero was just not capable of resisting the pressures now exerted upon him.

In the meantime Caesar had managed to find accommodation in a small hostelry adjacent to the wharves. As dirty as it was mean, it catered mainly to sailors, and was the only place willing to take him in: he was a detested Roman. Had it not been so cold he would gladly have camped; were he not determined to maintain his independence, he might have sought shelter in a Roman resident's house. As it was, the harborside inn it must be. Even as he and Burgundus took a stroll before what they suspected was going to be a bad supper, the town heralds were abroad crying that the trial of Philodamus and Artemidorus was to be held on the morrow in the marketplace.

The morrow saw Caesar in no hurry; he wanted everyone assembled for the hearing before he made his grand entrance on the scene. And when he did arrive he created a small sensation-a Roman nobleman, a senator, a war hero-and owning no loyalty to any of the Roman participants. None of these knew his face well enough to assign it a name, especially now Caesar was clad not in laena and apex, but in a snowy toga with the broad purple stripe of the senator on the right shoulder of his tunic and the maroon leather shoes of the senator on his feet. Added to which, he wore a chaplet of oak leaves upon his head, so every Roman including both governors was obliged to get to his feet and applaud Caesar's advent.

“I am Gaius Julius Caesar, nephew of Lucius Cornelius Sulla the Dictator,” he said to Claudius Nero guilelessly, holding out his right hand. “Just passing through when I heard about this fuss! Thought I'd better turn up to see if you needed an extra man on the jury.”

The name brought instant recognition, of course, more due to flamen Dialis than siege of Mitylene; these men had not been in Rome when Lucullus returned, did not know the fine details of Mitylene's surrender. Caesar's offer of jury duty was declined, but he was accommodated on a chair hastily found for one who was not only a war hero, but also the Dictator's nephew by marriage.

The trial began. Of Roman citizens to serve as jurors there was no lack, for Dolabella and Claudius Nero had brought a large number of minor officials with them as well as a full cohort of Roman soldiers from Pergamum-Fimbriani who recognized Caesar at once, and hailed him joyfully. Yet another reason why neither governor was pleased to have him sitting there.

Though Verres had organized the prosecution, the actual role of prosecutor was taken by a local Roman resident, a usurer who needed Claudius Nero's lictors to extract money from delinquent clients-and was aware that if he did not consent to prosecute, the lictors would cease to be forthcoming. All of Greek Lampsacus congregated about the perimeter of the court, muttering, glaring, shaking an occasional fist. Despite which, no one among them had volunteered to plead for Philodamus and Artemidorus, who were therefore obliged to conduct their own case under an alien system of law.

It was, thought the expressionless Caesar, a complete travesty. Claudius Nero, the titular president of the court, made no attempt to run it; he sat mumchance and let Verres and Rubrius do that. Dolabella was on the jury and kept making pro-Verres comments in a loud voice, as did Verres himself, also on the jury. When the Greek onlookers realized that Philodamus and Artemidorus were not going to be allowed the proper amount of court time to conduct their defense, some among them began to shout abuse; but there were five hundred armed Fimbriani stationed in the square, more than a match for any rioting crowd.

The verdict when it came was no verdict: the jury ordered a retrial, this being the only way the majority of them could register their disapproval of the cavalier proceedings without bringing down a Verrine storm about their heads.

And when he heard the retrial ordered, Verres panicked. If Philodamus and Artemidorus did not die, he suddenly realized, they could indict him in Rome with a whole indignant town to back them up-and possibly a Roman senator war hero to testify for them; Verres had gained the distinct impression that Gaius Julius Caesar was not on his side. The young man had given nothing away by look or comment, but that in itself indicated opposition. And he was related to Sulla, the Dictator of Rome! It was also possible that Gaius Claudius Nero would regain his courage were Verres to be tried in a Roman court inside Rome; any allegations Verres might make about Claudius Nero's personal conduct would then sound like a smear campaign to discredit an important witness.

That Claudius Nero was thinking along the same lines became apparent when he announced that he would schedule the retrial for early summer, which probably meant a new governor in Asia Province-and a new governor in Cilicia. Despite the death of a Roman lictor, Philodamus and Artemidorus suddenly had an excellent chance of going free. And if they went free, they would come to Rome to prosecute Gaius Verres. For, as Philodamus had said when he had addressed the jury,

“We socii know that we are under the care of Rome and that we must answer to the governor, to his legates and officials, and through him to the Senate and People of Rome. If we are not willing to lie down under Roman rule, we understand that there must be reprisals, and that many of us will suffer. But what are we alien subjects of Rome to do when Rome permits a man who is no greater than a governor's assistant to lust after our children and snatch them from us for his own evil purposes? My son and I did no more than defend his sister and my daughter from a wicked lout! No one intended that any man should die, and it was not a Greek hand struck the first blow. I was scalded by boiling water in my own house while I tried to prevent the companions of Gaius Verres from carrying my child off to pain and dishonor. Had it not been for the arrival of my son and his friends, my daughter would indeed have been carried off to pain and dishonor. Gaius Verres did not behave like a civilized member of a civilized people. He behaved like the barbarian he is.”

The verdict of a retrial, delivered as it had been by an all-Roman jury loudly urged by Dolabella and Verres throughout the trial to do its duty and convict, emboldened the Greek crowd to speed Claudius Nero and his court out of the marketplace with jeers, boos, hisses, angry gestures.

“You'll schedule the retrial for tomorrow,” said Verres to Claudius Nero.

“Next summer,” said Claudius Nero faintly.

“Not if you want to be consul, my friend,” said Verres. “I will pull you down with great pleasure-never doubt that for a moment! What goes for Dolabella goes for you. Do as I say in this or be prepared to take the consequences. For if Philodamus and Artemidorus live to indict me in Rome, I will have to indict you and Dolabella in Rome long before the Greeks can get there. I will make sure you're both convicted of extortion. So neither of you would be on hand to testify against me.”

The retrial occurred the day following the trial. Between bribing those members of the jury willing to take a bribe and threatening those who were not, Verres got no sleep; nor did Dolabella, compelled to accompany Verres on his rounds.

That hard night's work tipped the balance. By a small majority of the jurors, Philodamus and Artemidorus were convicted of the murder of a Roman lictor. Claudius Nero ordered their immediate dispatch. Kept at a distance by the cohort of Fimbriani, the Greek crowd watched helplessly as father and son were stripped and flogged. The old man was unconscious when his head was lopped from his shoulders, but Artemidorus retained his faculties until his end, and wept not for his own fate or for his father's, but for the fate of his orphaned sister.