"This is the situation,' said Eco. "The Senate is raising an army to send against Manlius up in Faesulae, to join battle in Etruria or at least to keep Manlius from marching on Rome. In Rome the garrison has been put on alert, with extra night watches set all over the city. Catilina is under house arrest, but his fellow conspirators are all free; Cicero has no evidence against them There may or may not be an uprising in the city. There may or may not be a battle or several battles between the Senate's forces and those of Manlius. There may or may not be other uprisings elsewhere in Italy.'

'Is the Senate really in danger?' said Meto.

He asked the question of Eco and seemed disappointed when Eco deferred to me. 'Everywhere in Italy there is poverty, indebtedness, and forced enslavement due to bankruptcy,' I said. 'Our family has been favoured by Fortune, not to mention the will of Lucius Claudius, to rise rather than fall in the world at such a time, but all around us simple citizens starve, while proud nobles find themselves dispossessed and unable to rise again. The few possess great wealth and power, which they dispense in stingy increments to the many who struggle to survive. The corruption of those in power is naked for all to see. Men long for change, and know that they will never have it so long as the Optimates maintain their unshakable grip on the Senate. Can Catilina and his allies ignite a general revolution? Obviously the Senate believes it is possible, or else they would never have voted the Extreme Decree to give the consul extraordinary powers.' I spread my hands before the flames. 'How Cicero must relish the grave honour his colleagues have bestowed upon him! Was their gesture of faith in him spontaneous, I wonder, or did Cicero pull a few strings to manage the vote?'

'Yes, Papa,' admitted Eco, flinching at the sarcasm in my voice, 'you can be sure that Cicero lobbied hard for the passage of the Extreme Decree. The cooperation of the Senate was helped along by the anonymous letters that Cicero introduced into the debate.'

'Letters? You haven't mentioned these before.'

'No? I suppose I was watching my tongue around Claudia. On the evening before Cicero requested that the Senate pass the Extreme Decree, he was paid a visit by several distinguished citizens, among them Crassus. They came knocking on his door at midnight, demanding that his slaves rouse Cicero from his bed. It seems that each of these men had received anonymous letters that night, warning of impending bloodshed.'

'How did these letters arrive?'

'By a messenger whose face was hidden. He handed the rolled letters to the doorkeepers and departed without a word. The letter to Crassus addressed him by name, but was unsigned. It read: "In a few days all the rich and powerful men of Rome shall be slaughtered. Flee while you can! This warning is a favour to you, from a friend. Do not ignore it." '

'And Crassus brought this letter to Cicero?'

'Yes, as did several others, who had received them the same night. Well, you can see that such a letter put Crassus in a compromising position. He's under suspicion already for his past associations with Catilina as well as his own shady political dealings. There are those who think he's a part of this conspiracy, perhaps even one of the powers behind it. To avert suspicion, he brought the letter to Cicero at once, disavowing any knowledge of its origin or the impending bloodshed of which it gave warning.'

'But these letters were unsigned?'

'Anonymous, yes. Of course everyone assumes they came from someone close to Catilina.'

'Which is exactly what they're meant to assume.'

'But who else could have sent them?' said Eco.

'Who, indeed? Who would stand to profit by stirring up panic among the powerful, while at the same time ascertaining the position of a man like Crassus? And it was largely due to this incident that Cicero was able to convince the Senate to pass the Extreme Decree?'

"That, along with word that Manlius was about to put his army into the field.'

'Knowledge of which came from—'

'From Cicero and his informers. And of course there were the rumours of planned slave uprisings—' 'Rumours, you say, not reports?'

Eco looked into the fire for a long moment. 'Papa, are you arguing that Cicero might have sent those anonymous letters himself? That he's creating a panic on purpose?'

'I make no argument. I merely posit questions and doubts — like the consul himself'

XXXII

October ended with gusty winds from the north and a lowering pearl-grey sky. The Kalends of November dawned cold and bleak, with streaks of rain that never amounted to a storm, but seemed to fall from the sky one at a time, like tears, with all the niggardliness of the gods when they deign to weep.

So it continued until the eighth day of November. Twilight dawned and the day never grew brighter. A mass of rolling black clouds gathered to the north. High winds swept through the valley. The animals were gathered into the stable. The Cassian Way was almost deserted, except for a few shivering bands of slaves driven by men on horseback.

Except for a few excursions to look after the beasts and make sure that doors had been secured and loose implements had been put away, everyone stayed indoors. Diana was bored and out of sorts; when the thunder came, it frightened her and made her even more intractable. Her mother was endlessly understanding and comforting — with Diana. With everyone else she was in a foul mood all day.

Meto shut himself away in his narrow little room. I walked in on him unannounced and saw a scroll of Thucydides open on a table and his metal soldiers spread on the floor in battle array. When I smiled and asked what combat he was re-enacting, he acted embarrassed and resentful and pushed the soldiers against the wall.

The least good fortune that such a miserable day could bring would be a skyful of rain, I thought. All through the day I stepped from time to time into the little walled garden off my library to watch the sky. Beginning at a point halfway to the peak, Mount Argentum was lost in a hazy black mantle of clouds, lit now and again with growing bolts of lightning. It must have been raining madly up on the mountain, but down in the valley there were only wind and darkness.

The rain finally began after sundown, if indeed there was a sundown on such a day when the sun had never shown itself. It began with a quiet pelting against the tiled roof, then grew to a steady torrent. We discovered a few new leaks in the roof; with all the relish of a general too long away from battle, Bethesda sent the kitchen slaves to fetch pots and pans to catch the dribbles. Diana abruptly recovered her good spirits; she opened a shuttered window and gazed out at the rain with squealing delight. Even Meto’s mood was lightened. He came into my study to return the scroll of Thucydides, and we talked for a while about the Spartans and the Persians. I said a quiet prayer of gratitude to the gods for opening the sky at last.

Having been restless and kept indoors all day, we were wide-awake that night. We had been smelling the scent of Congrio's cooking all day and received the meal with enthusiasm Afterwards I asked Meto to read to us aloud. Herodotus, with his accounts of strange lands and customs, seemed a good choice.

The hour grew later and later, but no one seemed inclined to sleep. The rain poured down.

I had set a watchman that night, as I did every night. Unable to post himself on the roof of the stable, his place was in the loft, where he could keep watch from the little shuttered windows. He, too, was wakeful that night. When the men turned off the Cassian Way and rode towards the farm, he saw them