"You'd think so. But then, so the rumour goes, after they were repulsed from Milo's house, the mob left the Palatine, ran through the Subura and outside the city walls to the necropolis."

"The city of the dead? At night? I should think they'd have been as frightened of lemures as of arrows."

"They stayed clear of the sepulchres and burial pits. They headed for the sacred grove of Libitina."

"Goddess of the dead." – Eco nodded. "They broke into her temple."

"In the middle of the night? But why? Surely the duty of registering Clodius among the dead fells to his family, not to the mob. And they can't have been looking to rent requisites for the funeral – they'd

already done the job of cremating Clodius, without paying much heed to religious niceties."

"It had nothing to do with that, Papa. For some reason, it's in the Temple of Libitina that the fasces are kept when there are no consuls. You know, those bundles of sticks with an axe projecting, carried by the consuls at ceremonies and processions."

"Their badges of office."

"Exactly. With no consuls in office, the fasces have to be stored somewhere, and apparently the official place is the Temple of Libitina. So the mob breaks into the temple, seizes the fasces, and then runs back into the city to seek out the men running for consul against Milo."

"Publius Hypsaeus and Quintus Scipio,"

"Yes. Both supported by Clodius, of course. The mob goes straight to Scipio's house and shouts for him to come out and claim the fasces."

"Forgo the election entirely? Become consul by appointment of the mob?"

"That must have been the idea. But Scipio wouldn't show his face."

"Probably scared out of his wits, like everybody else in Rome last night."

"Then the same thing at the house of Hypsaeus. Shouts of acclamation, but the candidate kept his door shut. Then somebody in the mob got the idea to offer the fasces to Pompey."

"Pompey! But he's not even eligible. He's still a proconsul, in charge of running Spain. He commands an army; legally he can't even enter the city walls. That's why he's living in his garden villa out on the Pincian Hill."

"The mob couldn't be bothered by such technicalities. They ran out the Fontinalis Gate and up the Flaminian Way to Pompey's villa. They waved their torches and lifted up the fasces. Some shouted for Pompey to become consul. Others shouted for him to become dictator."

I shook my head. "What in Hades are they thinking of? Probably most of them weren't even born the last time Rome had a dictator."

"There are plenty of people in the street who think it's time we had one again, to put an end to all this chaos."

"They're mad. A dictatorship could only make things worse. Anyway, I can't believe the leaders of the Clodian mob came up with such an idea. Clodius and Pompey detested each other, and Pompey's never been a friend of populist causes."

"He's popular with the masses, even so. The mighty general, conqueror of the East. The Great One, Pompey Magnus." – I shook my head. "It still doesn't sound right. The same people who provoked the mob to burn down the Senate House are hardly likely to want a reactionary like Pompey to be their dictator. Maybe it wasn't the same mob at all. Or maybe the mob was taken over at some point by infiltrators from Pompey's camp."

Eco raised an eyebrow. "So you think the incident might have been staged by Pompey himself? Do you think he wants to be dictator, then?"

"More likely he wanted a chance to publicly turn down the call There are plenty of senators, especially friends of Caesar, who think Pbmpey might be plotting to take over the state. How better to reassure them than to turn down a mob of citizens offering him the fasces?"

"He didn't exactly turn them down. Like Scipio and Hypsaeus, he didn't show his face."

I moved my chair a bit to keep up with the sun. Where the shade fell the air had a bite. "What word of Milo, then?"

"Some think he sneaked back into the city last night, and is holed up in his house. They say that's why the archers were in place to fight off the Clodians last night, because they're part of Milo's personal bodyguard. But it seems just as likely that he left them to guard the place in his absence, especially if he had planned to murder Clodius. He knew the mob would react with violence, so he left his house fortified. Others say he's gone into voluntary exile, off to Massilia or somewhere."

"That's possible," I said. "It's hard to see how he could possibly be elected consul now, if and when the state finally does manage to hold elections. And if Milo can't be elected consul, he's finished. He's spent a fortune putting on shows and games, trying to impress the voters. He doesn't have the resources of Caesar or Pompey, or even of Clodius. He wagered everything on his run for consul, and now he's surely lost all chance of winning. Exile might seem the only honourable solution to him."

Another voice joined us, from the direction of the statue ofMinerva. "But then why did Milo kill Clodius, if it meant ruining his own future?"

I looked towards the statue. The virgin goddess towered above us, painted in such lifelike colours that she seemed almost to breathe. In one hand she clutched an upright spear, in the other a shield. An owl perched on her shoulder. A snake coiled at her feet. Under the midday sun her eyes were shaded by the visor of her crested helmet. For just an instant it seemed that Minerva herself had spoken. Then Diana stepped from beneath the shade of the portico and leaned against the pedestal. She put her hand on the sculpted snake.

"A good question, Diana," I said. "Why would Milo murder Clodius, if he knew it would unleash such a fury? Why kill his enemy, if that meant killing his own chances of being elected?"

"Perhaps he miscalculated the reaction," said Eco. "Or perhaps he killed Clodius by accident. Or in self-defence."

"Do you mind if I join you?" said Diana. Not waiting for an answer she pulled up a little folding chair and sat. She shivered in her cloak. "It's cold out here!"

"Let the sunshine sink in for a bit," I said.

"And then there's a third rumour," Eco said. "Some say that Milo is plotting revolution, and the murder of Clodius was just the first stroke. They say he's stockpiled weapons all over the city – there must have been an arsenal of arrows at his house to fend off the mob last night – and now he's criss-crossing the countryside, gathering troops to march on Rome."

"Setting himself up as another Catilina?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Only this time the revolutionaries would have men like Cicero on their side, instead of against them."

"Cicero is the last man to support anything remotely like a revolution, even if it was led by his good friend Milo. But who knows, nowadays? I suppose anything is possible."

"Oh, and some other news, Papa. This must have happened yesterday, while the mob was rioting down in the Forum. A patrician committee of the Senate met somewhere here on the Palatine. They finally appointed an interrex."

Diana looked puzzled.

"See if I can explain it accurately, Eco," I said. "In cases where there are no consuls – say, if both should die on a battlefield -"

"Or if a whole year should go by with no elections," added Eco.

I nodded. "In such a case, where there are no magistrates at the head of the state, the Senate appoints a temporary magistrate called an interrex to run the government and hold new elections. Each interrex serves for only five days, and then a new one is appointed; that way they don't get too settled in their office. So on and so forth until one of them manages to get new consuls elected. The Senate should have appointed an interrex at me beginning of the year, since there were no new consuls when the old consuls stepped down, but friends of Hypsaeus and Scipio managed to stall the appointment, thinking Milo had the upper hand and wanting to hold off the elections a while longer. No interrex, no elections. Well, perhaps now there'll finally be elections and an end to this crazy talk of solving the crisis with a dictator."