'And then came Cicero's outrageous accusation that I was planning a surprise attack on the town ofPraeneste on the Kalends of November. To fend it off Cicero called out the garrison ofRome — how convenient that Praeneste is so close to the south. No attack materialized; not surprising, since none was planned, and even if one had been planned, announcing knowledge of a secret attack ahead of time by definition prevents the possibility. Puffing himself up like a frog, the consul declares himself the saviour of Praeneste — when the whole affair was a fantasy! What a mighty general, able to foresee and forestall attacks that were never to take place!

'No tactic is too low. He issued orders to break up the gladiator farms across Italy — as if I were the instigator of a slave uprising! He offered huge rewards to anyone who would come forward and betray the so-called conspiracy — for slaves, freedom and a hundred thousand sesterces; for free men, two hundred thousand sesterces and a full pardon! So far, no one has come forward to claim these glittering prizes. Such silence is merely proof of the fear these monsters inspire in their minions, says Cicero — ignoring the obvious point that there is no plot to betray!'

Catilina shook his head. 'When one of his lackeys brought charges against me, using the Plautian Law, I thought it best to simply submit, to make a show of cooperation. My enemies have subjected me to so many spurious trials that one more hardly casts fear in my heart. Not that I didn't manage to have a bit of fun at Cicero's expense.' Lit by the flames, I thought I saw a mischievous smile on his lips.

'What do you mean?'

'Why, I went straight to Cicero and offered to put myself into his custody! If I must be under house arrest, I said, let it be in the house of the consul himself — where else might I be more closely watched and kept from my nefarious plotting? What a quandary that posed for Cicero! If I was such an immediate menace, it would seem to be his duty to take me into custody; on the other hand, how could he continue to rant about my mad schemes if he had me safely under his own roof? It didn't suit his purpose, so he turned down my offer. Even so, he managed to twist matters to his own advantage. Not being safe in the same city with me, he said, how could he be safe having me in his house? I would murder him and his whole family if I had the chance, with my bare hands if I had to. Others turned down my offer as well, either because they were afraid to associate with me or were afraid for their lives. When I finally put myself into the charge of Marcus Metellus, as impartial a man as I could imagine, Cicero said I was merely taking refuge with one of my supporters. Poor Metellus! Now I've given him the slip, and everyone will think the worst of him.'

'Why did you flee the city?' said Meto.

'Because today, before the Senate, Cicero said that he would see me dead — as bluntly as that! I have no reason to doubt him I fled for my life.'

"The men Cicero sent after you tell another story,' I said. 'They say you sent men to murder Cicero, yesterday morning.'

'The men Cicero sent after me will murder me if they catch me!'

'But what they say — is it true?' said Meto.

'Another lie!' He heaved a weary sigh. 'Cicero claims that two nights ago I slipped out of Meteflus's house and attended a secret meeting where I hatched a plan to assassinate him. Supposedly two of my friends — Gaius Cornelius and Lucius Vargunteius — were to show up at his door, pretending to make a morning visit, get inside and stab him. As if either of them would commit such an act, without hope of escape or of being able to show just cause to the Senate! But Cicero is clever; in the middle of the night he sends for certain senators who still doubt his rantings. Come at once to my house, he tells them. What can it be, they wonder, to rouse us from our sleep? When they arrive, lamps are lit everywhere and the house is full of armed guards. You see how he sets the stage for exploiting their credulity by resorting to such cheap melodrama? He tells them that an informant has just arrived with terrible information: Catilina and his conspirators have been meeting that very night at a house in the Street of the Scythemakers, plotting his murder. The agents will be Gaius Cornelius and Lucius Vargunteius, known associates of Catilina and notorious troublemakers. Just watch, he says, they will arrive in the morning, bent on bloodshed. You will be my witnesses.

'And lo, the next morning, Cornelius and Vargunteius duly arrive at Cicero's house. They bang on the door; the slaves refuse to admit them. They bang more, demanding to see the consul. The slaves hang from the windows and pour abuse on them; Cornelius and Vargunteius become abusive in turn. Bodyguards appear and show flashes of steel; Cornelius and Vargunteius turn on their heels and flee.

'Cicero's prediction has come true. The witnesses see it all. But what have they seen? Two men, already in a precarious position because of their association with me, who arrived at Cicero's door — not with the intention of killing him, but because they were roused from their beds by a summons from an anonymous caller, who said that if they valued their lives they had better go at once to the consul's house! Yes, it was Cicero who engineered the whole episode! Everything appeared just as Cicero wished, for of course Cornelius and Vargunteius arrived in an agitated state, fearful and not knowing what to expect, and when they encountered abuse they quickly became abusive and threatening in return. They were duped into playing the part of frustrated assassins, and never knew it until Cicero's speech in the Senate today, when he announced his absurd story of having survived a murder plot and gestured to his so-called reputable witnesses, who all nodded their heads in agreement! The man is a monster. The man is a genius,' said Catilina bitterly.

'You see, when he first used the trick of saying his life was in jeopardy back in the summer, when he tried to postpone the elections a second time, no one believed him; his exaggerated bodyguard and the breastplate beneath his toga were too absurd. This time he came up with a wilier and more subtle trick. When he told his tale to the Senate today, I could hardly believe my ears. I had no rejoinder. Only afterwards did I speak with Cornelius and Vargunteius and see through his deception. There was no plot to murder Cicero. Oh, not that I would mind seeing him dead. Few things would please me more—'

'Nothing would make me happier,' said Tongilius, who quietly reappeared in the glow of the fire. His cloak was wet, and beads of water clung to his ruffled hair. 'The storm shows no signs of stopping; it's raining harder than ever. The sky is aflame with lightning. Here, your apple is seared enough, Lucius. Time to pull it from the fire. Don't eat it too soon, though, or you'll burn your tongue. Would that I could set Cicero's tongue aflame!' He looked into the darkness of the tunnel and laughed aloud at the image in his mind. Did the look of cruelty on his face enhance his beauty or mar it? His laughter was brief; he began to pace, unable to keep still.

.'Tongilius has his own reasons to be bitter,' said Catilina in a low voice. 'Cicero hasn't hesitated to bandy his name about, calling him my catamite. Curious, how sexless creatures like Cicero love to exploit the very details of intimacy which they claim to find so repulsive. Everyone knows that Cicero despises his wife, and he married offhis poor daughter before she was thirteen! Hardly a lover of women; hardly a lover at all. Yet he holds up Tongilius for ridicule without the least quiver of shame. Shameless, sexless; the cavities in Cicero's character where those qualities should be are filled with arrogance and spite.'

'What happened today in the Senate, Catilina?' I said.