Silanus and Murena appeared on the podium, along with Cicero and Antonius. Following tradition, the consuls-elect would say a few brief words to the assembled citizenry, but when Murena stepped forward to speak he was drowned out by a sudden uproar. Catilina had emerged from the gates of the Villa Publica.

From the reaction of those around him, Catilina might have been the winner of the election, not a two-time loser. His partisans rushed to him, cheering, tearful, many of them reaching out to touch him, chanting his name in unison: 'Catilina! Catilina!' His own expression was stoic as he strode forward with his jaw set and his eyes straight ahead. From the podium, Cicero gazed down with a tight smile on his lips.

Once Catilina. had passed, Murena and Silanus were finally able to speak. Their comments were predictably banal and were greeted by tepid applause, afterwards Cicero announced that the voting for the praetors would begin immediately. I might have actually cared enough to stay and vote for my friend Rufus, but Meto suddenly lost heart and decided he had learned enough about politics for one day. We left the crowd and made our way back through the deserted streets of the Subura.

Back at Eco's house, Bethesda noticed that Meto seemed unusually withdrawn and pensive. She attributed this to the natural depression that comes the day after a big event such as a toga party, but I knew that Meto's disappointment sprang from something deeper than that.

XXII

We dined informally that evening, with everyone raiding the kitchen for leftovers from the day before. The heat of the day cast the whole household into a mood of easy lassitude. The slaves went sluggishly about their errands, and even Bethesda was too hot to reprimand them. The sun itself seemed lazy, and took an unusually long time to set beyond the horizon. The sky deepened to a rich, dark blue. Meto withdrew to his room to be alone. Diana snuggled against her mother and dozed on our sleeping couch. Eco and Menenia retired to another room at the back of the house to do whatever it is that young newlyweds do to amuse themselves on long, sultry summer evenings. I was left alone again in the garden, which suited my mood.

The first handful of stars were beginning to sparkle in the heavens when Belbo announced that there was a caller outside the front door.

'For Eco?' I asked, thinking he would hardly care to be disturbed at the moment.

'No, he's come to see you, Master. But I don't like the looks of

it.’

'Why is that, Belbo?'

'Too many bodyguards, for one thing — one for every finger at least — and they're all carrying big daggers in their hands, not even sheathed.'

My heartbeat sped up a bit What in Jupiter's name had I done now? Why could I not be left in peace? 'Who is this visitor, Belbo?'

'I'm not sure. He doesn't give a name, and he stands back among his bodyguards so that I can't see him properly. His toga has purple on it, though.'

'Yes?' I pursed my lips, puzzled.

'And he's armed himself. Or at least he's wearing armour. I can see what looks like a breastplate underneath his toga—'

'I see. Yes, Belbo, I suppose I had better see this visitor. But ask him to leave his bodyguards outside. He has nothing to fear in this house.'

Belbo withdrew. A few moments later I was joined in the garden by Marcus Tullius Cicero.

'Gordianus!' he said, giving me a warm, lingering look as if I were a long-lost friend, or perhaps an undecided voter. 'Such a long time since I've seen you!'

'Not so very long. You saw me yesterday on the path to the Arx.'

'I wouldn't count that, would you, given the circumstances? If I was brusque or distant yesterday — well, you understand. I was unable to acknowledge you as I should and will acknowledge you when all this is over.'

' "All this?"'

'You know what I mean.' 'Do I?'

'Gordianus!' he said in a sweetly chiding tone. 'Difficult as always.'

'What is it you want, Cicero?' 'And so very curt!'

'I'm not an orator, like you. I have to say what I mean.'

'Oh, Gordianus! You must still be very weary after the hard journey down from your beautiful farm. You must feel out of sorts here, away from the fields and the lowing oxen. I know how the rigors of the Forum wear on a man — believe me, I know! — not to mention the ordeal of election day. But this election went rather well, don't you think?'

'For those who won.'

'Today Rome won. If things had gone otherwise, we'd have all been the losers, yourself included.’

'There were plenty of citzens outside the Villa Publica who seemed to think otherwise.'

'Yes, there are riots going on even now in scattered parts of the city; you're wise to have retired early and shuttered your windows. Catilina's supporters crave any excuse to turn to violence and looting.'

'Perhaps they're overcome with hopelessness and frustration.'

'Surely you don't sympathize with that rabble, Gordianus! A clever man like you, and now a man of property, as well? I'm very proud of that, you know, helping you inherit what was rightfully yours. The gods and Lucius Claudius decreed that you should move up in this world, and I was happy to do my part. Most men get what they deserve in this world, in the long run.'

'Do they?'

'Take my brother Quintus, for example. Elected praetor this afternoon, following in my footsteps!' 'How did Rufus fare?’

'He won a praetorship as well, and good for him!' Cicero's smile did not seem entirely insincere. He could afford to be generous. 'And Gaius Julius Caesar?'

Cicero did not smile. 'He, too, won a praetorship. But then, no one can say he didn't earn it, one way or another, though he may be a long time paying off the debt. But you were there, weren't you? I thought I glimpsed you in the crowd.'

'We left early. My son Meto wanted to see the voting. After a while he had seen enough.'

'Ah, the duties of fatherhood. My own son is only two, but already quite an orator! His lungs are stronger than mine!'

'I doubt that, Cicero. But tell me, why are you here? Don't misunderstand, it's not that I'm unhappy to be paid a visit by the consul of Rome, or that I object to having his bodyguard camped outside my door — I'm deeply honoured, of course. But you say there are mobs in the street. Surely the danger—'

'I care nothing about danger. You should know that already, Gordianus. Didn't I defy Sulla himself at the very outset of my career? You were there, you saw how I stood up to his tyranny. Do you think I would allow a disorganized rabble to prevent me from going about my duties as consul? Never!'

'Yet there must be something you fear, to make you wear such heavy armour, to surround yourself with so many bodyguards, everywhere you go.'

'Armour frees a man from fear. As for my bodyguards, they are all fine young men of the equestrian class. They follow me because they love me, as they love Rome. Yes, certainly there is danger. There always is, when a man stands up for what is right — you know that. But a true Roman sets his eyes on his course and is not swayed from it, either by a rabble with sticks and stones or by conspirators with torches and daggers.'

'Evenso, I thought you had deemed it best that you and I shouldn't see each other openly; so Marcus Caelius indicated. Should I take it that your coming here tonight signals an end to our feigned estrangement?'

'Not… exactly,' he said.

'But the crisis, if there ever was a crisis, is over.'

'Not so long as certain parties still threaten the state—'

'But Catilina is finished. You've bested him again. He won't be able to run for consul a third time — he's too much in debt. His allies will desert him now, and so will his friends with money. Two losses in a row mean no more coins left to press into the sweaty palms of the voters. Catilina is finished.'