FOR WANT OF THE HAMMER

tuareg109

Banned
Also, I'm curious as to how many people are following this. I think it's a pity that Threads don't have more functions such as statistics and the like.

Well, if you want to, can you PM me (just a few words, like "Here I am" or something) so I know how many are actively engaged in this? Just curious.
 

tuareg109

Banned
Grouchio said:
You know I'm here. ;)

Do you need any help on research for now, sir?
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Actually no.

If you know of some really good maps of the late Republican city of Rome, and some with focus on the Palatine, Capitol, and Forum, it would sure help.

Thanks for offering, of course.
 

tuareg109

Banned
FOR WANT OF THE HAMMER

DIVERSIONS PART 4, 647 AVC​

Lucius Cassius Longinus Ravilla sighed hugely and turned with a grin toward Lucius Aurelius Cotta as they rode through the vale. It was Quintilis, and beautiful warmth and long days reigned supreme in Roman Macedonia. They were still far enough away from the sea to avoid the hideous, monstrous humidity of the Illyrian coast, and yet low enough in the vales that it was not even cold, let alone snowing.

The days could be comfortably passed in ordinary military dress, while the nights required maybe one or two thick blankets--just enough to make a man comfortable. And there was no Quintus Servilius Caepio Junior! "Ah," Longinus Ravilla sighed again. "How glad I am to be going to Rome again! And for a Triumph," he chuckled. That was the height of any military man's career; to ride in the quadriga--the four-horse chariot--through Rome, to see the crowds cheering and to feast the Senate, to embody Jupiter Optimus Maximus and be the greatest man in Rome, the sum total of all things...for a day.

Oh, it would be such fun! Lucius Aurelius butted in on his thoughts, not unkindly. "Father will quite enjoy it; you deserve it, Lucius Cassius, and that's the truth."

Longinus clapped the young man--about 27 years old now, wasn't it?--on the shoulder. "Your father I shall be very glad to see! I haven't seen him in more than a year; devious devil that he is, he's made all sorts of mischief in the Hispaniae!"

Lucius Aurelius laughed off this joking deprecation of his uncle-cum-father, knowing Lucius Cassius too well. "And I should see Lucius Julius; too bad he stayed behind to help his brother! And Gaius Julius--Strabo, of course--will have such great tales to tell when he comes back from Gaul. I've missed Rome," he added at the end, a bit surprised.

Lucius Cassius, no stranger to departure from Rome, nodded sagely. "Yes, Rome is one thing that one always aches to find. In the world, and in one's self." Which, he reflected sourly--within himself, not letting Lucius Aurelius see it--was exactly the sort of thing that Quintus Servilius Caepio--Junior or Senior--might say. Good then that from those men, it didn't inspire any kind of loyalty or fire from the troops.

A week ago, he had set off from Bylazora with one legion and left the remainder in Quintus Servilius Caepio Junior's care. Of course he knew of the young man's ambition and so had told his most senior, staunch, and stalwart Centurion, "Don't let him get under your skin, don't let him replace you, and--most importantly!--don't let him march off with more than a few men under his command. And by a few I mean two or three!"

Gnaeus Gavius--a third-cousin of Sulla's late stepmother's late nephew, had anyone bothered to know this fact--smiled blackly, revealing his gap-toothed grin. Though propertied and landed like all the troops, he'd been in his share of brawls of all sorts, and was highly respected by the men. "Don't worry, Sir. My leash is tight."

"Good man!" Longinus Ravilla had clapped the man on the back and then rode out into the waiting column of his best legion--for the troops in a man's Triumph represented him, and their behavior reflected on him; being in a Triumph was a reward in and of itself for the men. It meant several months away from any danger, and higher renown and standing in their communities; Gnaeus Gavius, for one, would likely have several young women suing for his hand--not the other way around.

Thinking now of young women and marriages, he broke the comfortable silence, during which the miles had rolled by and they had gone from high, breezy, bare valley to the warm, comfortable, lightly wooded lower valley. Far ahead over several low, wooded hills and across silvery-flecked, winding rivers he could see the coast; some sixty miles away in a bee's line, the sea and its foreground looked like the most astounding painting. To Lucius Aurelius, whose eyesight over long distances was not the best, it was a passable mosaic at least.

"Your father is a great man," he began cautiously in his mind, but with confidence in his voice so as not to give anything away to Lucius Aurelius. "He is brave and intelligent; formidably so, indeed. But honestly, he is too honest. Even were he not, every man needs allies."

Lucius Aurelius, no fool, simply nodded. Where was this leading?

"He has four sons and the fortune to sustain them; what great luck! One might yet be adopted out, for a great alliance. But there remains one more thing."

"Aurelia," said the quick Lucius Aurelius.

"Exactly! Your sister is the key to any great alliance for your family. And yet, I fear, the man marrying your sister will earn undeserved amounts of envy. It would take a formidable name and disposition to avoid political ruination."

Lucius Aurelius interrupted, "The one half are not so petty to react against my sister; the half that are will be scorned harshly. I can't imagine, for example, Marcus Livius Drusus Junior trying to sabotage my career, or that of Aurelia's children, simply because she is given to another." Lucius Aurelius was careful not to give away that Aurelia had the ultimate choice in her marriage; such an unorthodox arrangement would soon find its way into Roman gossip, faster than they could travel.

Lucius Cassius looked thoughtful and said, "I'll keep that in mind. Simply consider: This year I will be Triumphator, and almost certainly elected Consul. The gens Cassia is one of the most anciently noble of plebeian families, and my friends are boundless. I'd be eternally grateful were your sister and my son married--betrothed for the time being."

Lucius Aurelius, looking not a bit troubled, said, "I will think on it, and hint at father that that is what you want."

"But is it what you want?" asked crafty Lucius Cassius, wishing that Lucius Aurelius would convince his uncle-cum-father of his own accord.

After a pause during which Lucius Aurelius gazed ahead of them, still giving away nothing, he said, "I do not yet know. I must think on it." The his face brightened, "Thank you for your thinking so highly of us, though!" Internally, though, he was in turmoil. Lucius Cassius was a good man, and Lucius Aurelius enjoyed his company; Lucius Cassius Junior was even better, in Lucius Aurelius's opinion, and Aurelia would do well by him.

And yet...there were so many other suitors, and so many other choices. And it was Aurelia's choice in the end. Still, even Lucius Aurelius--some ten years older than Aurelia--knew that her common sense and efficiency would outweigh any kind of emotional plea. No, he could only ask her to consider; no amount of begging or logical argument would bring Aurelia to a decision unless she herself saw the sense in it.

Still, he certainly smiled at the thought of Quintus Servilius Caepio Junior. Stuck-up little pig, thinking that he was worthy of Aurelia's hand, and now attempting to insult and harangue the remaining Macedonian legions into action. Lucius Cassius had done well, and Macedonia would be safe for the remainder of the year so long as the legions remained in camp.


"Tsk tsk, tsk tsk," Metellus Nepos shook his head sadly. "Gnaeus Domitius, you choose the absolute worst toads to follow you."

Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus, despite the presence of his invited guest, coughed laughter while Lucius Valerius Flaccus--one of this year's Praetors--turned bright red. And yet, Metellus Nepos was one of those men who could insult whomever he liked, and come through relatively unscathed; it seemed churlish to attack him, and that was his magic.

"Oh Quintus, do shut up," said Ahenobarbus, still chuckling. "It is said that the worst and most lowborn of the Senate's scumsuckers rub up against you every night. Quintus Varius? Titus Didius? Some man with the nomen of Uupius? Who's ever heard of such nonsense?"

"I agree," said Metellus Nepos, grinning. "And yet, no other men will condone violence to preserve the mos maiorum"--the centuries-old traditions and formulae of the Republic.

"I am completely with you on that count!" said Ahenobarbus heartily, all thought of backbenchers gone to the wind. "Hear that, Lucius Valerius? You'd better jump off of Gaius Fulcinius's wagon, or else you'll wind up crashing with it."

"I only admit that it was something of a wonder that my brother and I were elected," said Lucius Valerius Flaccus, blinking. "I'd barely spoken to Fulcinius before then."

"So you're with us?" asked Metellus Nepos, eyes narrow. Despite the intensity of his gaze he went from an active, dominant sitting position to reclining on one elbow and gazing at the other diner.

"I suppose."

"Will you help us kill Spurius Dellius?"

"B-I-Wha--I don't thin--" He was cut off by a rush of booming laughter from red-faced Ahenobarbus, and fresh child-like peals from Metellus Nepos.

"Oh, we had you! We had you good! You should have seen your face!" They continued to laugh and guffaw as Lucius Valerius uttered indignant and irritated phrases and admonitions.

"Oh, save your flowery language for the Forum!" shouted Ahenobarbus aloud.

After a while they subsided, and then Metellus Nepos continued quite seriously. "So, hehe, you're against the eroding of our traditions, and our Senatorial prerogatives?"

"Being of ancient family, and the only patrician here among us--" Flaccus at least relished in seeing the two noble plebeians flinch at this cruel reminder "--I can safely say that I'm with you. Though whether these recent gangs are Fulcinius's doing or some other, shadier character's, I do not know."

"It's Fulcinius," said Nepos positively. "With the connivance of Gaius Memmius and Gaius Flavius Fimbria; my agent all over have seen it all."

Ahenobarbus, who had not known this, whistled. "Grain got to their head, did it? I presume it was a swindle?"

"Given Marcus Antonius's murder, and the importance of Ostia in all this, I'd say so. Probably when Memmius was Grain Quaestor and Fimbria was Praetor in charge of grain and trade disputes."

"The perfect pair," said Ahenobarbus in awe. "Oh, I wish I'd thought of it!"

Flaccus stared at him in anger, but Metellus Nepos gazed at him slyly. "Oh, we could have pulled it off! If the Senate and Treasury are idiot enough to condone the selling of grain to the useless classes for cheap, they deserve to be swindled by the ambitious." He sighed, "Still, that ruse has now been used; though, I see, you still benefit from your grain expeditions!"

Ahenobarbus grinned. "My sunburn is gone, thankfully, but oh do these Knights love me! Several letters a day from all over Africa Province and from some Numidian cities; Jugurtha doesn't thank me, though."

Metellus Nepos and Flaccus both laughed at that. No, Jugurtha shouldn't love him; who could love a man who had stolen enough to feed a million Roman mouths for three years? Only a Roman--and maybe a Greek of the devious kind--could appreciate something like that, and only so long as the victim was not Rome herself. And so Numidia had suffered, and Ahenobarbus was still quite famous--among the Knights and the People.

"Well, and what do you plan to do with your fame?" asked Metellus Nepos shrewdly.

"I suppose," said Ahenobarbus, smiling down at his hands, "that it's time I told someone. The secret won't be long in coming, anyways. You know, it's the nature of all humans to adore gossip; Romans most of all love this, it seems. They also are enchanted by MPFH!" He had been hit square in the face by Metellus Nepos's bundled-up socks.

"Do get on with it!"

Smiling triumphantly, Ahenobarbus said, "Now that you beg me so sweetly, honey-buns, I shall. This year I seek election as Tribune of the Plebs."

"Oh!" Metellus Nepos applauded loudly. "Good choice! Too young for Praetor, no self-respecting governor would have you--" the shaft went wide "--and you can cause such a huge fuss! You have the name and the popularity to cause more damage than Fulcinius could ever dream of!"

"Too right you are, my dear Quintus Caecilius. I'll veto every law, invalidate every assembly, declare every day nefas until the Pontiffs have observed every ritual scrupulously. No more haruspices winking at deformations in a sheep's liver and accepting a little gold from the Pontifex Maximus!"

"Oh, you'll make all their lives hell!" cried Metellus Nepos gleefully, whose father's cousin, aunt's husband, and wife's ex-husband were all the Pontiffs who were slated to suffer boredom and a magnified workload.

"Isn't it genius?" asked Ahenobarbus with equal glee; his brother Lucius Domitius was one of the Pontiffs, and the Pontifex Maximus was their aunt Domitia's brother-in-law.

"Oh, and you can't lose!" cried Metellus Nepos. He raised his wine cup high, not caring that its contents slopped a little over the edges, and shouted, "To the Tribunus Invictus!"

Ahenobarbus raised his own goblet with a wicked grin, and the hesitant Flaccus soon followed. "To Tribunus Invictus!"
 
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rgroberts

tuareg109 said:
I am very flattered that your very first post in 3 years of membership is in praise of me!
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:) Color me the quiet type, I suppose. I'm an avid reader, but I obviously don't post often. Real life too often gets in the way. I've always been interested in alternate history, and I can't remember who pointed me at this forum when I was at the Naval War College, but I'm still delighted they did.

That said, I studied Rome and military history with both my degrees, and focused particularly on the late Republic, which means your TL is absolutely fascinating to me. I've always wondered what might happen without Marius around to change so much, and I absolutely cannot wait to see where you take this. I also love the very McCullough-esque style you have going here! The characters jump right off the screen, and are very well rounded, which certainly keeps me coming back.
 

tuareg109

Banned
rgroberts said:
That said, I studied Rome and military history with both my degrees, and focused particularly on the late Republic, which means your TL is absolutely fascinating to me. I've always wondered what might happen without Marius around to change so much, and I absolutely cannot wait to see where you take this. I also love the very McCullough-esque style you have going here! The characters jump right off the screen, and are very well rounded, which certainly keeps me coming back.
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I've always had a bit of an inferiority complex about my writing, and the response to this TL has really uplifted me; I guess I tend to underrate myself!

The only other stories I've ever written were only shown to one person, whose opinion was dubious (cousin, not wanting to "offend" me, etc.); that the reviews have been so positive from the anonymous (usually the most scathing of reviewers) really emboldens me.

So, thank you and keep on enjoying!

I hope you are doing/did well in the Navy, wherever you are.
 

tuareg109

Banned
Shameless self-promotion:

I have a new TL out, that you can find in my sig or here if you're really that lazy.

The style is very different from that of this TL, and it is set in the AD 1054 Earldom of Northumbria, and the British Isles in general. This TL remains my top priority, and so the new one shouldn't encroach on my 1 post/day trend (boy do I love bragging about that!).
 

tuareg109

Banned
FOR WANT OF THE HAMMER

THE FIRST GREAT GRAIN ROBBERY PART 3, 647 AVC​

In the grey pre-dawn hours of the 16th of Quintilis, Marcus Aemilius Scaurus Princeps Senatus's ship slid into the harbor at Ostia. Taking no chances, he surrounded himself with Lictors, and then that group with the sixty sailors and the captain of his ship; he had earned their friendship and loyalty during the voyage, and was paying them besides.

In this way, though the vigilant friends and spies of Gaius Memmius and Gaius Flavius Fimbria saw his stealthy arrival and roused their allies in the town, none dared attack--they slinked away and several rode to Rome at the double. To the more cowardly or in any way scrupulous subordinates of Memmius and Fimbria, an attack on Scaurus would have been anathema anyway; for the cowardly because of fear of reprisals from Rome and from the Great God--Scaurus was a Pontiff, and for the scrupulous because he was the Princeps Senatus and the most prestigious man in the Republic--the First Man in Rome.

Not that the cowardly or scrupulous were high in number; the vast majority did not attack because of this 67-man escort, which reached the house of Manius Acilius within a few minutes. Not trusting whatever veterans and strongmen the town had, Scaurus simply demanded horses for the 67 men with him, and a two-mule gig for himself. For the hour or so that servants went about to every wealthy house in Ostia, rousing owners and requesting horses to be borrowed, the citizens of Ostia heard the clatter of hooves; as it was near dawn, many elected to wake up and turn out to see what the fuss was about. There was no sound of metal, no martial shouts, no fire, and so they knew that it was no kind of army; in addition, there had been no attempt to muffle the clatters or quieten neighing horses, so these were no horse rustlers.

People wandered to where the horses were being led--Ostia's central square. There the horses--unused to such activity--were shuffling and tossing their heads nervously in formation. The sailors and captain, sitting on their backs, swayed uncomfortably and grabbed onto the horses' manes tightly with both hands. Scaurus stood with his Lictors talking to the duumviri, with Saturninus and Consul Lucius Vettius standing some feet to the side.

"So you understand, my friends?" he finished, clapping them both on the shoulder. "You must stop every man coming from Rome--no matter how poor-seeming, no matter how dirty, no matter how low-mannered! You must stop every man, and wait until the Senate sends a man to inspect them in some few days."

"We won't let you down, Marcus Aemilius," said Manius Acilius, beating his closed fist over his heart. "The odium and sacrilege of these men's actions have stained Ostia for too long--indeed, even one moment is too long for such a crime. We of Ostia wish to avenge ourselves and our honor; we'll hold them all."

"Well said!" cried Gaius Nipius, nodding.

Scaurus smiled. "Good men both; I will see that Ostia is freed from its port duties next year."

Both men's faces went from serious and strict to smiling widely; Ostia was Rome's major port, and handled all grain coming in from the western Mediterranean Sea. A remission of taxation would mean great amounts of silver and gold in the public coffers, to be spent on city improvements...or to be transferred to private purses. But both men had such honor that that thought never crossed their minds.

"We thank you earnestly, Marcus Aemilius," said Manius Acilius. "For some years now the unloading of grain during the busy season has had to continue through the night, and some ships have even collided. We'll use the moneys to expand the wharf, so that we don't have irate captains and annoyed townsfolk."

Scaurus nodded, "Sensible thing to do; Rome will benefit. He looked around to the east, where the sun's rays were breaking over the distant shadows that were the Apennines. "Well, I must be off, gentlemen!" He turned now to address Saturninus and Lucius Vettius as well. "I plan to be in Rome long before noon; I shall come to visit, don't you worry about that."

With many farewells from Ostia's wealthier citizens and a cheer of gratitude from the crowd now assembled, Scaurus sat on the wooden bench in his two-mule gig and rode with 67 unsteady horsemen toward Rome.


"Is it true?" called Titus Bruttius, red-faced. It was the day after Scaurus's arrival in Rome, and Memmius and Fimbria had gone to the Senate as if nothing was amiss. When Scaurus had told of what he had found in Sicily and Ostia, the two accused men had harshly denied it. Gaius Fulcinius, clean-shaven and healthy, though a bit too pale, had attended this first special meeting of the year; to everybody's surprise he stood up--what had Fulcinius to do with grain and swindling?--and said:

"Princeps Senatus, do you have any proof of this that you could not have fabricated? I don't doubt the honor of Marcus Antonius, but it seems to me that Lucius Appuleius and last year's Quaestor Quintus Varius could just as easily have stolen grain and hidden it away in silos and warehouses."

A murmur of unease went about. Tribune of the Plebs Gaius Fulcinius, well-known champion of the People's rights and hater of grain manipulators, defending two known bandits and accusing the unimpeachable Scaurus of corruption? What was going on here?

Memmius and Fimbria went on loudly proclaiming their innocence, and some gullible few like Lucius Valerius Flaccus and Merula Flamen Dialis even began to believe them and call for debate until men with dark and serious faces like Ahenobarbus and Scipio Nasica grabbed their arms in vise-like fingers and told them to shut up.

Memmius and Fimbria had gone on shouting and the meeting had broken up in an uproar, with the two accused men's "clients"--gang members and ruffians--who had conveniently happened to be there escorted them home peacefully. It was no part of their plan to appear as the violent aggressor; for this to work, that must be the Senate's part.

Titus Bruttius, senior Consul and loyal though distant friend to Gaius Fulcinius throughout that erstwhile great man's fall, went home in silence, not joining in the frantic debates and irate discussion over what this all meant, and what to do about Memmius and Fimbria. Ahenobarbus revealed his information--though he did not bring ire on Metellus Nepos's head by revealing his true source--to Scaurus and Metellus Pontifex Maximus while they skirted around the Well of the Comitia, with half the Senate in earshot. Soon it looked to the Forum frequenters as if the Senate was indeed meeting on the lip of the Comitial Well, for three hundred men clustered about listening to the conversation between Ahenobarbus and the most senior members of the House.

Titus Bruttius went home in some shock, ignoring all this, and ate lunch turning it all over in his mind. His steward stepped gingerly about, wondering what was wrong, and the servants did not address their master at all. In truth, Titus Bruttius hardly saw them. Was it Gaius Fulcinius, was he in on it? Had he joined in the murder of Marcus Antonius? Was it Scaurus?

Titus Bruttius conjured up the image of Scaurus in his head, and shook it quickly. No, Scaurus on the trail of wrongdoing was unimpeachable; everybody knew that. Scaurus was respectably wealthy and no kleptomaniac; he wouldn't have risked his fortune and career--as well as the future of his son--over some stupid grain venture. Even if the swindlers had been Scaurus's friends and not Memmius and Fimbria, Scaurus would have told the truth; he had a reputation of brutal and unaligned honesty to uphold. It was true. Memmius and Fimbria had stolen the grain, and tricked Gaius Fulcinius into believing them.

He grieved then for his friend's lost mind. A year ago Fulcinius would never have believed a slavering fiend such as Fimbria, or a charming debaucher like Memmius. He sighed and resolved to see Gaius Fulcinius the next morning, and to set things straight, and to convince him to the side of right. Titus Bruttius, though he hadn't heard Ahenobarbus's information, had seen the suspicious-looking gangs over the past few days; he could put two and two together, and knew that these belonged to Memmius and Fimbria. Things boded ill for Rome if Gaius Fulcinius continued supporting them, and the lower classes joined the gangs.

So Titus Bruttius stood red-faced in Gaius Fulcinius's Atrium, calling into the smallish house, asking whether it was true. Fulcinius was alone was alone, for Memmius and Fimbria were at home acting indignant and secretly directing their gangs through their respective stewards; Gaius Fulcinius idled alone at home and waited for things to fall into place.

"Come in, Titus Bruttius, dear friend," called Gaius Fulcinius from the peristyle garden. Titus Bruttius did not move at first, surprised by the thickness of the foliage and the denseness of the shadows that he hadn't seen at first. "Isn't it beautiful?" asked Fulcinius, guessing at his trepidation.

Titus Bruttius moved forward slowly, bending down to peer into the gloom; scarcely any light penetrated from above. He moved through the trees and bushes, branches catching his toga praetexta and red senatorial boots stepping without noise on the moist leaves covering the ground. As he moved forward he disentangled himself from his toga and let it fall; in a simple tunic now, and feeling the cool leaves against his calves and forearms and face, he stepped into the small clearing in the center of the garden.

The clearing was much smaller than he remembered it, as the bushes and weeds had grown into it. The arboreal aroma was stronger here, and he breathed deeply. Gaius Fulcinius sat on the bench, which was now stained with green and covered with leaves; not minding a little green, Titus Bruttius sat next to him.

"It is beautiful, like a slice of goodness in Rome." Titus Bruttius sat staring forward and repeated, "Is it true, though? Is it?"

Gaius Fulcinius's arm suddenly rose to clap itself on Titus Bruttius's back. "Is what true, dear friend? That I defended two innocent men in the Senate yesterday? Why, that's verum as Vesta."

Titus Bruttius's head turned to look at his friend. "Gaius Fulcinius, I've turned it over and over in my mind; there's no way that Memmius and Fimbria are telling the truth. I stayed to view it, and I can say with authority that the evidence against them is astounding; had it not been for Marcus Antonius's sacrifice, though, they might never have been found out." Bruttius, of course, did not know that it was Saturninus who had first brought grain irregularities to Scaurus's attention.

"See," said Fulcinius, head shaking, "I don't know why you insist on accusing Memmius and Fimbria of something so foul. Can't you at least see that there's as much a chance that Scaurus or Drusus--or Gaius Julius Caesar, for that matter!--could have perpetrated the crime?"

Titus Bruttius leaned forward, eyes closed, and set his elbows on his knees. He sighed through his nose and said, "No. All the evidence points the other way. I've turned it over and over, as I've said, and Scaurus has absolutely no reason to lie."

Gaius Fulcinius eerie shout made him bolt to a straight sitting position again. "Gold! Control! Cronies in the Senate! Are these not all reasons? Titus Bruttius, my friend, can't you see that this isn't about the murder of Marcus Antonius anymore? It is not even about grain! This is about the Senate's denying the People their right to rule, and their right to manage their own affairs. Look at Catulus Caesar! He should have been convicted, but the Senate and its larvae, under force of arms, halted justice in her tracks."

Titus Bruttius had been looking into Gaius Fulcinius's eyes since that shout, receiving this lecture. Now he looked away, unable to look into those soft dark pools any longer. No, it was no use explaining to him that the fact that this year's magistrates were all Populists was patent proof that the people ruled...and that they had failed. He didn't bother saying that it was about the murder of Marcus Antonius, and that Marcus Antonius's murderer would be the one, by any form of logic, responsible for the grain discrepancies. He couldn't mention that Scaurus and the Pontifex Maximus, and all their hangers-on and family with them, had seen Catulus Caesar's guilt, and that the man would have been convicted had it not been for Fulcinius's own scary, Gracchian tactics.

"I can see that I can't convince you," Titus Bruttius said, not wanting to look into Gaius Fulcinius's eyes again. Suddenly that hand on his back was ominous instead of friendly. "Come what may, I was your friend. Remember that."

He stood to leave and walked through the garden, without a word from Fulcinius. He picked his toga up and began to wind it clumsily around him in the Atrium--he always had servants to help, and besides was anxious to be out of there--when he heard fleet footsteps behind him. He turned and the knife meant for his back was caught in the folds of his toga.

It was Fulcinius's steward, familiar to Bruttius; the man had tears streaming down his face, and was saying, "I'm sorry," over and over again. No doubt he'd been ordered to do this against his will. The knife was pulled out and brought down again, but Bruttius caught the arm in a strong grip. No military man, Bruttius had still served in his ten campaigns; this steward, a Greek selected for his knowledge and computing ability rather than any kind of strength, was no match for him. Bruttius twisted the arm harshly and smacked the hand; the knife clatter to the floor and the steward was shoved with as much strength as Bruttius could manage.

Whipping around, he picked the knife up and, abandoning his toga, ran for the door. Outside he stood, panting, and quickly hid the knife by holding it upside-down and hiding the blade between his body and the crook of his arm--he might need it yet. Thus disguised, he straightened and walked casually toward the Velia and the Palatine, and his safe home.

There were no gangs about and nobody watching Fulcinius's house. Bruttius counted himself lucky until he saw Memmius and Fimbria. They were walking quickly in his direction and escorted by twenty men. To both sides were smaller insulae apartment buildings of better quality, and their were no alleys or doorways to duck into; turning and running would be both suspicious, and dishonorable.

Fimbria, with better eyesight, saw the senior Consul first. "Titus Bruttius, how are you, man?" He was delighted, for he and Memmius had planned on cultivating Titus Bruttius in the next few days and tricking him as they had Fulcinius. Then they would have the support and sanction of a Consul, as well as the most popular and persuasive of the Plebeian Tribunes.

Memmius, however, more quickly put two and two together. The sweat on his brow, and the lack of a toga, and the knife--yes, he saw it!--in the crook of the Consul's arm all indicated an on-edge confrontation...not two hundred feet from Fulcinius's house, and hurrying away from that direction.

"Good, good," cried Bruttius, slowing down and hiding his right arm desperately. "Out for a stroll, you know. Good for the body."

"Why come through this way? Surely the Palatine and Capitol are safer," said Fimbria, not so smart but smart enough to wonder about that.

"A change in scenery is always good," panted Titus Bruttius, getting scared. There was a scary glint in Memmius eye.

They had all been moving forward during this exchange, and Titus Bruttius halted nervously while the two men stepped up to him and their "clients" surrounded him. "Then why not go to the Campus Martius, or through the Velabrum?" asked Memmius.

He's toying with me oh Jupiter he's toying with me like a cat I'm done for no nine lives ahhh. Titus Bruttius gulped, but said nothing.

Fimbria's brow creased, but he internally shrugged off this strange behavior, thrusting his hand out to be shaken. Bruttius's palm opened, and the dagger clattered onto the paving stones; Fimbria's eyes widened, Memmius smiled, and the twenty "clients" stepped back a foot, eyeing each other in confusion and ready to pounce on Titus Bruttius.

"No blood," said Memmius, chuckling. "Weak old Agapetus; I told Gaius Fulcinius to get a strongman for this sort of thing."

Bruttius gulped and gasped, splayed hands at the end of splayed arms and knees bent in the unconscious position of fight-or-flight. "L-let me go, that knife w-was a precaution. What am I to you?" He had wanted his voice to be strong and commanding, but it came out reedy and begging.

Gaius Memmius said, "True, you don't know much at all about what's going on; you're just against us. However, you are Consul, and two Consuls against us is harder to overcome than one." Bruttius's eyes began to roll in their sockets and he gasped as Memmius continued, "Also, the omens of your inaugural sacrifice must be obeyed. Kill him." Always able to claim that Scaurus had had the man killed after hearing of his support for Fulcinius, Memmius walked on with Fimbria trailing in some confusion.

Half a minute later, all twenty of the "clients" rejoined his walk.
 
St. Just

St. Just

Intrigues on intrigues on intrigues. If they can turn public opinion, then Memmius and Fimbria might be able to get away with it, with the Populists on the side of wrong this time. One must wonder, however, what the paterfamilias demands of them...
 
SlyDessertFox

SlyDessertFox

Still back on page 8 but...


In Rome, the situation was much the same; most people--even those of the lower classes--would balk at the thought of a very minor Equestrian's son marrying, say, a Julia Caesaris, or...well, that was as august as you could get, really
Click to expand...

I see what you did there.
 

tuareg109

Banned
FOR WANT OF THE HAMMER

THE FIRST GREAT GRAIN ROBBERY PART 4, 647 AVC​

The whole city knew by dawn of the 18th of Quintilis of the Consul's murder in the streets of Rome. Though the dog days of summer were not due for another six days, the weather on that day and for many days to come was as sultry and vicious as the winter days had been cold and bitter. Cool, breezy night became buzzing, stagnant day within a few minutes; the Pool of Curtius, various temple and private Atrium pools, and the sewers and canals running out of and into the Tiber soon became an excellent breeding ground for mosquitoes. The only clean, clear water in the city came from the aqueducts and from the aquifer wells.

Inspecting the Aventine, the Port of Rome, the Subura, and the suburbs of Rome, one might find a bustling town full of people and merchants talking and shouting and chanting in various tongues and in various styles; these people, though aware of the horrid--to some hilarious--events going on in the Forum, had more of a vested interest in the work of everyday life. The Palatine and Capitoline hills, with the exclusive Oppian hill, the Carinae, the Velia, and the Forum itself, when contrasted against the bustling activity of the rest of the city, was the picture of desertion and plague.

Those few who bustled about went about their business quickly, with heads ducked and hidden under the sinuses of togas. Most went over to a friend's house and stayed shut up indoors either worrying or fretting, or conversing casually, or planning revenge. Such was Metellus Nepos's plan.

In his house that afternoon were his two cousins Quintus and Lucius Caecilius Metellus--both called Caprarillus, his friend Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus, brothers Lucius and Gaius Valerius Flaccus, and a very new man among them--Gnaeus Pompeius Strabo. Since arriving in Rome from Gallia Transalpina some three weeks ago, Strabo had watched with some amusement at the panic and fear that Marcus Antonius's murder had caused, and wondered where and when to best insinuate himself, so as the appear the hero; he only regretted that he hadn't stayed to see the faces of his colleagues in Gallia when they learned of events in Rome. And now a dead Consul! Oh!

Strabo had arrived and quickly attached himself to those great friends and relatives of Sulla and Publius Rutilius Rufus--the Caecilii Metelli, of course. Lucius Caecilius Pontifex Maximus, having heard many nasty things about this man from his good nephew Quintus Piglet and client-veterans who had been in the late Quintus Numidicus's African army, disdained any contact with the man, and his cousins the powerful sons of Metellus Macedonicus (those uncles of Nepos's) followed suit. Nepos himself, of course, ran against the family grain; from marrying Licinia Crassa to taking violent action against a legal court, he stood apart from the other Caecilii Metelli. So he saw the use and intelligence in Pompeius Strabo, and accepted Sulla's letter of introduction heartily. "Great man, Sulla!" he had remarked upon meeting Strabo. "You're a good man, if he says so."

...Here is a man, too, cousin-in-law, who will do anything asked of him so long as he wishes to do it. Sometimes I think that Rome's treatment of Carthage in the last Punic war pales in comparison to the horrors and atrocities he's committed in Numidia and Gallia. Truly a man you'd want on your side to intimidate others.... the letter had included.

Now, three weeks later, the seven men reclined on a semicircle of couches in the triclinium, drinking sparingly of wine and partaking heavily in the discussion. Each man was situated so that he could see every other man easily, and now Metellus Nepos assessed Pompeius Strabo discreetly--or so he thought; one never knew what a cross-eyed man was actually looking at, which was one of Pompeius's Strabo's most useful and intimidating features. And yet Metellus Nepos was not intimidated, that much was clear.

"--may still be that this is all some other man's doing; Memmius and Fimbria might have been framed," continued Lucius Valerius Flaccus, who'd been engaged in a steady back-and-forth between his brother Gaius; the other men had lain listening.

Metellus Nepos's sparkling half-lidded eyes sought Ahenobarbus's, and found a kindred soul. Subtle Ahenobarbus gave him the ghosts of a grin and a smirk, and turned back to mime attentive audience. Shifting his eyes to Gnaeus Pompeius, Nepos found that he didn't even know whether that man was looking at him, let alone indicating amusement. He sighed through his nose and decided that it was the time to introduce something concrete.

"--again, what does Scaurus have to gain? What did Marcus Antonius have to gain from fabricating anything?" Gaius Flaccus was saying, when Metellus Nepos interrupted.

"Who cares who did what and who fabricated what?" he thrust between Gaius Valerius's--who immediately shut his mouth--sentences. "What matters now is what happens, and what we do; the past is gone. Who do you want to come out on top here: Scaurus and our Boni, or Memmius and Fimbria?"

The brothers Valerius, two who had been elected on anti-Boni coattails, shifted uncomfortably; semi-barbarian--to the rest--Strabo sat looking quite bovine and hiding everything behind his blue eyes.

"I want the side of right to come out on top," said Lucius Valerius bravely.

"Oh, and here we go! What's right, Lucius Valerius?" strained Metellus Nepos. "What is more right? To get to the bottom of this mystery--or, rather, supposed mystery, for I know Memmius and Fimbria are the culprits!--and perhaps see Scaurus convicted, or to preserve the ascendancy of the Senate and its most august members? In the eyes of Rome and her people--all her people, from the most noble patrician Valerius"--this with an ironic nod to the brothers Valerius--"to the dirtiest freedman Greek caulker--the best members of the Senate must be infallible! No New Men must defy us, no one of us must hold a fringe opinion--whether populist or reactionary, no man among us must be allowed to fall. That is why Quintus Lutatius, idiot though he is, was deserving of rescue; once we admit that we can be wrong, we are done for. It'll be New Men and slaves' sons, and the Republic will fall."

Metellus Nepos's Caecilian cousins clapped madly after this speech--not quite a tirade, for Nepos's face was not red or mottled in the least, with Ahenobarbus following respectfully and gladly; Pompeius Strabo followed more slowly, thinking You've given away your entire strategy; all your reasoning. Fool. But I'll play along.

The brothers Valerius, for their part, looked skeptical; they had been raised to think the best of everyone. That was a result, thought Metellus Nepos, of their soft patrician upbringing; the Valerii, for so long the most renown family in Rome, had never had to fight tooth and nail for privileges and a place in the Senate. It had endowed them with too little aristocratic snobbishness. Hypersensitive though Metellus Nepos was, Sulla wouldn't have been able to stop himself from explaining that, to one so patrician and ancient as a Valerius or a Cornelius, a Caecilius or a freedman Greek caulker were much the same.

"Well said, Quintus Caecilius," said Ahenobarbus. "I couldn't have put it better myself; if I'd been able to, I would have!" Further congratulations went around, with the protests of the Valerii being shouted down.

"So then," said Quintus Caecilius Metellus Caprarillus, who, much like his father, was not a very independent man, "what do we do? How do we counter Memmius and Fimbria in the Senate of which we are not even members yet; and how do we defeat his street gangs?"

"I've thought on this long," said Nepos with a slick grin. "Listen...."


The two Gaiuses--Memmius and Flavius Fimbria, that is--also thought, but with glee on their increasing position. It was the same afternoon of Nepos's house party--the 18th of Quintilis--and they had returned from the Senate with Gaius Fulcinius some hours earlier. The meeting had been slow and solemn, with the three allies even more melancholy than most. Fimbria, no natural actor, had been told to shut up and play along by the other two while they realistically mimed grief; subtly they brought to mind the fact that the late Titus Bruttius had been Gaius Fulcinius's ally even after his disgrace, and even visited his house they day previous to ensure him of support.

It came as a shock and grief to Scaurus that a nucleus of about thirty men--about one-tenth of the Senate--began to eye him askance and to mutter, as if he was not innocent of any wrongdoing. Too clever to let himself be baited into distasteful shows of rage or emotion, however, Scaurus had simply--as Princeps Senatus--enunciated the situation, and the need to have a Suffect Consul elected for the remained of the year.

"No!" Gaius Memmius had immediately shouted, tears cunningly threatening to fall, but his honor and manhood not allowing them to; it fooled everybody who could see into emotions of sympathy and respect. "No," he'd repeated, and stood from his stool. "You will not use my friend's death for your own purposes! He, senior Consul who didn't believe your lies, would have denounced them here. No minion of yours will be Consul suffectus, to damn me and mine!" It was emotional and rousing, and what the Senate sometimes liked to hear, especially during times of turmoil.

Scaurus's yellow-green eyes had turned hard as emerald and he'd said coldly and clearly, "We need a Suffect Consul to carry out our late colleague's duties. He will be elected by the Centuriate Assembly, not appointed by myself; as for the insult, I know nothing of men and minions." Prudent Scaurus knew that it would've appeared churlish to add that Memmius--such a handsome man--must know much about minions.

But Memmius was more prudent. Instead of giving the usual--and despised--complaint that the Centuriate Assembly gave the First and Second Classes, about 0.6% of all Roman electors, 40% of the vote, Memmius decided to turn it around on Scaurus. "Oh, yes, the Centuriate Assembly will vote! And who will be there on the rostra, making the grand speeches and endorsing his opponent?" Gaius Memmius's arm swept forward to indicate Scaurus. "Our noble Princeps Senatus! Your brave venture to Ostia and Sicily in the face of Marcus Antonius's murder was well-noted by the fickle public; no doubt the ill-informed inbred mouth-breathers who rarely exercise their vote will flock into the city to elect Scaurus's man. So you get them to believe this lie, which the ascendant and intelligent Senate never would, and then vote for your own candidate to...fix things."

Gaius Memmius sighed loudly and suddenly shouted over Scaurus, who had tried to interrupt. "No! I will have my say! This is my life on the line, and the lives of two noble and great and honest men--which is more than I can say for you--being discussed. You are only human, though you may think otherwise." Gaius Memmius suddenly abandoned Scaurus and turned to address the shocked Senators as if nothing had happened; had anybody defied Scaurus so before? "Senators, my fellow Conscript Fathers, I am innocent of any wrongdoing! For protecting this august body from the dirty gold of Jugurtha and my colleagues Spurius--in sorry exile in Massilia--and Aulus Postumius Albinus--whose face I see among you now--from undeserved ignominy, I was persecuted by Scaurus before. Remember, years ago if you can, when I finished out my term as Grain Quaestor; no irregularities were found, and yet now they suddenly appear! Do you believe, are you honorable and anciently-named men actually so gullible as to think, that there was such a massive pile of evidence somehow overlooked?"

Gaius Memmius, with a beautifully made body, held his perfect arms out at angles, like a supplicant; he cut quite the impressive figure, and deep was the silence that shrouded him. Even Fimbria stared open-mouthed at this display of rhetorical prowess, though Gaius Fulcinius just grinned triumphantly. "I see Gaius Mamilius there, whose good work I built upon; yet Scaurus never ran after him. Why, I ask you? Because Gaius Mamilius never dared to suspect Scaurus of accepting King Jugurtha's bribes. But I did! And that is the only difference between the two of us. It seems as though any man who questions the virtue of Scaurus, and simply demands evidence, will receive a hard time." Gaius Memmius's eyebrows raised, and he slowly rotated, still standing, to face Scaurus.

Internal turmoil ruled inside of Scaurus. Avenues of rhetorical escape were unavailable, but he could not admit defeat. Outrage and cries of disorder it would have to be. Two bright spots burned in his cheeks as he said, "You worm! How dare you accuse your Princeps Senatus of falsifying evidence, of--of--of such a low offense! I was after you then, yes, after your Quaestorship. Do you know why you're not sitting in Massilia yourself right now? You are beneath my dignity, you little piece of caco; I did not care. Now I see how wrong I was, for your little heist has cost two Romans their lives. You must pay for it, and no amount of oratorical manipulation will save you from the facts."

"What facts?" stormed Gaius Memmius, who started off as soon as Scaurus had finished. "There is the fact that my friend, and a man who would have been a great help to me, lies dead! A Consul of Rome, stabbed by villains in the very streets of his city, and of benefit to...whom? Who shall benefit from the death of our senior Consul? Not I, for now I must contend against such a devious mind as our Princeps Senatus's quite alone and with no curule aid." He avoided mentioning Gaius Fulcinius; his name was still odious among the Senators.

And astonishingly, when Scaurus opened his mouth to speak, shouts of "Hear him!" and "What are you afraid of?" and even "You've gone too far you old coot!" were heard around the Curia. The calls supporting Gaius Memmius's right to defend himself logically were taken up by over half the Senate; they did not yet believe him, but they were not totally convinced by Scaurus either.

Marcus Aemilius Scaurus, feeling very old and useless, allowed the Senate their say. And Gaius Memmius talked on. So it was that Gaius Memmius issued simple instructions to his street gangs, and tried to keep them at a low profile; to win the Senate's support against Scaurus he needed to appear defenseless and persecuted. The best thing would be into manipulating those young almost-in-the-Senate Boni like Metellus Nepos into attacking him; the moderates and even a few of the Boni would deplore this violence, and would think that it belonged to the archconservative faction, now led by Scaurus again. Violence--which Memmius and his friends would pretend to abhor--was linked to violence, and so Scaurus would be further and further associated with the assassinations....

Things were going just as planned.
 
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tuareg109

Banned
FOR WANT OF THE HAMMER

THE FIRST GREAT GRAIN ROBBERY PART 5, 647 AVC​

"People of Rome!" cried Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus from the rostra. "People of Rome, gather around and hear me speak!" The few Forum frequenters remaining in the aftermath of the shock of Titus Bruttius's assassination saw or heard him, and began to gather. Gnaeus Domitius waved them away. "No, get all your friends, all your enemies, every man you know. This is one discussion that all of Rome must partake in! Don't forget the men of the Fourth and Fifth Classes; hell, even the Head Count must be here."

His speech was timed well, as it was almost noon on the 19th of Quintilis. The Forum, Palatine, and Capitol remained very quiet and subdued; some were getting over the shock of seeing such defiance against Scaurus, and others were getting over the shock of doing the defying. The quiet, mysterious gangs had disappeared and the streets were quiet; working Rome did its duty, and would now stop during these very hottest two hours of the day to rest and drink its fill of water and wine.

Lethargy and ease, however, were not two words that described the Romans. When some Forum frequenter's slave's fleet son ran all through the city proclaiming that Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus, the grain hero of Numidia, was speaking from the rostra and requesting all of Rome's presence--even that of the Head Count!--men listened, and hurried to the Forum in their sweat-stained tunics. Only a few cumbersome togas were seen, and that only on the staunchest of Senators; other Senators, Equestrians, and men working indoors wore the cooler tunics for all those hot summer months.

Twenty minutes after his call had gone out, Ahenobarbus couldn't see a single flagstone of the Forum; thousands of men stood there shifting about and squinting under the hot sun, waiting for him to speak. The sea of brown and black heads stretched toward the Velabrum in the distance, and was squeezed between the Palatine and Capitoline hills not far from where Ahenobarbus was standing; a few golden and red and shining bald heads dotted this mass.

He took a deep breath and began to speak in that deep, booming voice that was much like his laugh. "People of Rome, I am no Orator. I am not hear to speak of laws or in some assembly, for I do not have that right, nor that honor; I am a Senator, yes, but merely an ex-Quaestor, a backbencher. And yet you all know me.

"I am the famed hero of Numidia; through my efforts three years' worth of grain were secured for Rome, and it is no burden on the Treasury to pay for this grain, cheap as it now is. But what does that matter?" A quiver of confusion went through the crowd; Ahenobarbus wasn't capitalizing on his fame? Strange. He continued, "What does that matter, when a Propraetor is murdered in the streets of Ostia, and a Consul in this very city? Do I really want to be part of a Rome where such things occur?"

He paused for breath and to wipe his sweaty brow exaggeratedly. A laugh of sympathy came from the crowd, and shouts of agreement at his last rhetorical question. After hearing the agreement for a few more seconds he went on, facial expression a grin of chagrin. "This is not the Rome I dream of! This is not the Rome of my ancestors, and of your ancestors. The tales of Aeneas and of the Punic wars, of Roman perseverance and invincibility, and of honesty and of honor; those tales are just that today: tales! They are fiction in the today's Rome of fact; we live in a wretched gutter of filth and depravity!"

The agreement to his word became a buzz of horror and complaint that grew louder and louder, for civic pride in Rome was always high; Ahenobarbus shouted all this down. "Oh be quiet, all of you! Hypocrites all! Who was it elected the brothers Gracchi some fifteen and twenty-five years ago, respectively? Who was it overreacted when Quintus Lutatius lost his battle? And by overreacted I mean supported slavering wolfsheads like Gaius Fulcinius and Marcus Perperna over honest and good men, noble or New Man. Who was it doubted their great Princeps Senatus, who has proved his honesty time and again, and who is unimpeachable on the trail of wrongdoing?"

His arms were in the air, encompassing all before him, and even the men supporting him stared open-mouthed; they hadn't thought Ahenobarbus had had such oratorical power in him, but had chosen him to speak because of his tenure as something of a popular hero. Now they saw that they'd been completely right in choosing him; no pauses, no slip-ups, and a graceful explanation of what he meant by "overreaction" in relation to Catulus Caesar. That was a subject that still smarted with most Romans.

"You are those who denounced our noble Princeps Senatus, and who invited the ascendancy of swindlers and murderers! Who am I, to tell you this? you may wonder. Well, I only have your best interests at heart, Quirites! I risked life and limb and legions against Jugurtha and the hot Numidian sun for you, to ensure that you would not go hungry. Is that not enough to ask for a little respect, Romans, and a little belief? I only want what you want: an end to this madness, and the restoration of proper order.

"Ah, Order!" he flung out, sighing loudly. "How I miss order and law in this city! Have you seen, Quirites, the shifty gangs walking about silently all over the place, not doing much and not saying much? But don't let that old trick fool you; as soon as they're needed they will be prepared to do murder and worse. It's already happened once, for they killed Titus Bruttius! But at whose orders?"

He giggled shrilly, and those who saw his face grew uneasy. "It comes back to orders! LOOK!" he roared, twisting and pointing to where Gaius Memmius and Gaius Flavius Fimbria stood with flinty faces among the other Senators behind him on the rostra. Due to their high elevation relative to the other Romans, they could be seen by the audience. "Just look! Do you remember when they came today, who escorted them? Look just behind, those men--DON'T SLINK AWAY YOU VILLAINS! Look at those men, catch them Quirites!"

Men in the crowd grabbed those who had begun to cunningly slide away, and many punches were thrown before they were subdued. The crowd seethed forward and the Senators began to move back, wary of being crushed. Through it all Ahenobarbus stood as if he were some god, straight and tall and superior at the very edge of the rostra. "Look at them, guilt proven! Why slink away, if you are not guilty? Are these not the same men of those gangs, look at them! Shifty and restless, they have not the look of innocent men if you look close enough." And indeed, those close enough saw that not one of the captured men was bewildered or scared; stormy and resentful were the faces presented to Ahenobarbus.

"Look at them closely, mind their looks, Quirites; I predict that, before the crisis is over, these men will have done murder. And yet," he sighed sadly, "I cannot prove that they killed our Consul. You must let them go." The men were let go, and hurried quickly away toward the Subura; quite a few kicks were aimed at them, and men close enough to spit on them did so.

Ahenobarbus turned again to indicate Memmius and Fimbria. "See how they stare with hate, Quirites; oh, what a black hate, when evil plans are foiled! Mind now that they will have no escort when leaving, whereas they had one getting here; those were their men, and those same men of the strange gangs who have wandered our streets, and who killed our senior Consul. Gaius Memmius and Gaius Flavius Fimbria--and, though it may grieve you, Gaius Fulcinius!--are not friends of yours; they wish the destruction of order and law, and of the Republic. Titus Bruttius was elected by you, Quirites, to be Consul; not agreeing with you, Memmius and Fimbria had him killed.

"It is simple as that; if you do not see the truth...then may the gods damn you all." He stepped down from the rostra.


Early evening of the 20th of Quintilis saw Lucius Appuleius Saturninus arriving at his house in Ostia--Lictors surrounding him, of course--stinking with sweat and tired with work. The very busy season was beginning, and he would have to spend all day, virtually from sunup to after sundown, under the shaded awning of his tribunal speaking to and dealing with the merchants who sailed in to send grain, and the barge-owners transporting it up the Tiber, and the carters who loaded it and traveled overland to Rome. Well, he could at least thank the gods that his tribunal was shaded against the sun; otherwise, he would be wickedly red and sunburnt as well as hot and dirty with sweat.

He knew now, as Marcus Aemilius Scaurus did, that there were too few wharves for all the ships coming in; he also knew, from discussing it with Manius Acilius and Gaius Nipius, that Scaurus had awarded Ostia with tax remission for all of next year, and that this would pay for a new wharf. To the benefit of another Grain Quaestor, and not Saturninus himself. Ah, well. So it was well after dark that he stumbled into his lodgings and, frowning, invited Lucius Vettius to dinner.

"We must eat quickly, though, Lucius Appuleius," said the Consul while dipping bread in olive oil. "The summer nights are so short that we must get as much sleep as possible."

"Especially when one has so much to do during the day," Saturninus contributed a trifle acidly; Lucius Vettius was sitting in Ostia and, frankly, not doing much.

"I suppose I can aid you with your duties," said Lucius Vettius, who had detected the hint of discomfort in Saturninus.

"Lucius Vettius!" Saturninus burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. "You are the Consul, why on Earth would you concern yourself with a Quaestor's duties? I've had letters too, I know of the situation in Rome; go there, do, and take some control!"

Lucius Vettius looked very uncomfortable, but was resolved not to grimace or show any fear. "I am sure Marcus Aemilius can deal with it adequately."

"Accused of swindling the grain, needing Gnaeus Domitius to defend him, now gang violence is breaking out on the Aventine and in the Subura? He's not dealing with it! You are the Consul; you were awarded the highest title in the land by the citizens of Rome, and you must execute your duty. You're doing nothing here; do your duty and go to Rome. Fix things there." Saturninus could not believe that Lucius Vettius--who he had thought was something of an ambitious military man--was so wary to simply go to Rome and take control; he was Consul, and so long as he took precautions would remain safe.

Lucius Vettius had been found out, and his pride did not permit him to complain any longer. Face setting stonily he said, "You have convinced me, Lucius Appuleius; you are quite right. My duty is in Rome." He was deathly afraid of being assassinated or of having his reputation tarnished; however, being a coward was worse in Rome even than being a traitor. He would have to go and take control of the situation.

He stayed until the end of dinner, and departed for Rome before midnight.
 

tuareg109

Banned
FOR WANT OF THE HAMMER

THE FIRST GREAT GRAIN ROBBERY PART 6, 647 AVC​

The meeting of the Senate for the 21st of Quintilis--due to the present controversy and crisis the Senate was meeting every day instead of summer's usual once or twice a month--was adjourned with little being done except for shouting and argument between Scaurus and the Pontiffs on one side, and Memmius, Fimbria, and Fulcinius on the other. In the absence of both Consuls, the Princeps Senatus was supposed to maintain order; however, given the lack of respect for him at the moment, Scaurus knew that it would hurt his reputation to use Lictors to forcibly eject Memmius, Fimbria, and Fulcinius from the Curia. In addition, they certainly had enough support among the lowest two classes to try to form their own government; being certain of their guilt, Scaurus thought that this was exactly what they would do if they couldn't take over the Senate outright.

Most of the Senators, weary of the whole business and not quite cut out for governing, hurried home after the meeting, avoiding attempts by Scaurus's supporters to detain and convince them; some even wandered in the direction of Fulcinius's home, or openly walked with the three swindlers and appeared to support them. Those who stayed in the vicinity of the Forum made up two groups. One, headed by Scaurus and the Pontifex Maximus, was composed of those older and more experienced men, as well as holders of higher offices, who wished to put an end to this whole affair democratically, and yet in their favor. The second group, headed by Metellus Nepos and Gnaeus Ahenobarbus, included men only a few years shy of the Senate--such as the leaders--and the sons of the most powerful Equestrians, and were the ones who advocated a violent response against violence, to preserve the ascendance of the first two classes.

These two groups mixed somewhat uneasily--while many in the younger group were sons or nephews of those in the older group; Metellus Nepos and Scaevola, as well as the brothers Ahenobarbi, had conflict between them--and discussed exactly what they should do.

"What I don't know," boomed Ahenobarbus, "is where Lucius Vettius is! He's Consul, numina damn him, and is doing what exactly? Vacationing in Ostia while we sit here worrying our minds away over what to do! We should send for him at once."

There came a wave of agreement from those surrounding him but, since they were all turned inward, they didn't see that the subject of their conversation had arrived and had been listening for a few minutes. "All right, all right!" he shouted, smiling wryly. "I'm here." There was an uproar and a fluttering of arms and togas as the men gathered round him to apprise him of the situation and to ask him what he intended to do.

Though the day was very hot, Lucius Vettius sweated for other reasons; here were some of the Equestrians who had voted him in, in this very group, and he had to satisfy them. Dereliction of duty did not endear one to the Romans.

"Conscript Fathers of the Senate and other dear listeners, I fully support our Princeps Senatus's decision; all must be legal to the letter, and above all non-violent. To use violence when there is another avenue of action is the mark of the barbarian; we must convince the men in the courts that Memmius and Fimbria are guilty."

That caused an uproar from Metellus Nepos's group. "And what, then, when their gangs run by and bash all your heads in?" the leader sneered. "Then you will able to take no action, violent or not, and Rome will fall to dogs and sheep; we will lose everything."

Loud Ahenobarbus, lips tight, shouted down any response to this. "Oh shut up! And don't talk to me about respect for elders! What bearing do past event and experience have on the present situation? In all the history of Rome, such a thing has never happened as is happening now. 'But, the Brothers Gracchi!' I hear you bleating; well, no Consul ever died under a dagger's edge while the Brothers Gracchi lived! Honestly, I'd prefer the steel and resolve of those Brothers, for them to lead Rome, than you old women. Shut up, just shut up all of you, and accept that WE--NEED--TO--ACT!" These last few words he punctuated by slamming his right fist into his left palm.

A long, pregnant pause followed. Beads of sweat stood out on all brows, and men watched Scaurus or the Pontifex Maximus for reaction. What Gnaeus Domitius had just said had the ability to drive a wedge deep into the conservative establishment. To use violence in the city, against Romans acting through legal modes of government, was against everything the Boni stood for; and yet, wasn't it right to use violence to defend one's very existence? If Memmius and Fimbria were acquitted, then Scaurus was sure to be convicted; where would the Boni be with such a loss of credibility and without its strongest head?

Thankfully nobody found out what effect Ahenobarbus's words had, and those who remembered later never dared bring it up. Just them came the sounds of a chant-like song--a battle-song. The group turned as one and stared toward the Via Sacra to the east. A group of perhaps 500 dark, squint-eyed, poorly-clothed men rolled into the upper Forum shouting for aristocratic blood. Nobody noticed Metellus Nepos gesture to a young, skinny Equestrian; nor did they notice the young man flee south. The armed men saw the mass of white and purple near the rostra and gravitated toward it; the Senators cowered and stood still with fright, most now thinking that Ahenobarbus was correct.

Then came from the south--the lower Forum--a second group of about 200, from the direction of the Velabrum. These were a little better dressed, and bore leather-covered shields of bronze and gladiuses--much better armed, then, than the other group, which bore clubs and cleavers and hammers.

The Senators now shouted, eyes rolling; several brown stains appeared on pristine white togas, for many of the Senators sincerely believed that they were about to die. Honor left several men in mindless terror, and they fled up the Capitol to take refuge in the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. Lucius Cornelius Merula, Flamen Dialis and thus High Priest of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, held his ground and even stood at the front of the group, ivory-topped head held high and defiant; any man who struck the Flamen Dialis invoked the greatest of divine rages.

But it was all for nothing on his part. Of the 200 Senators and Equestrians gathered near the rostra, 57 ran to Jupiter Optimus Maximus. The remainder hid behind their fellows or else took up a defiant stance along with the Flamen Dialis; no cowardly death for them! Metellus Nepos was grinning, and made it apparent why. "Now you'll see that violence must be met with violence! The men to the south are mine, armed and paid for by me. Retreat in that direction, and you'll see that slaughter of evil villains is better than being helpless."

The Senators streamed south, beginning to run as the group to the east began to pick up the pace. Slipping through the 200 men of Metellus Nepos, they turned to watch the ensuing battle. The 500 men of Memmius and Fimbria were more numerous, but Metellus Nepos's 200 had the elements of surprise and superiority. As the 500 rounded the corner of the Palatine, which hid the lower Forum from view, to go south and follow the Senators, the 200 suddenly stood in front of them with gleaming gladiuses and mighty shields, standing in formation.

Those of the 500 in front, feeling naked without armor and with their poor weapons, and vulnerable at their lack of organization, tried to stop. Their fellows in the back, not seeing so well, urged them on with insults against such a smaller force--which appeared even smaller, being in tight, mobile squares of twenty men each.

The men of the 500 in front were thus forced to attack the 200...and the slaughter began. Some ten minutes elapsed while the Senators watched, horrified, as blood was spilt on the flagstones of the Forum, and ran into the sewers and down toward their own red-booted feet. The 200 men, after cutting through the first ranks of the 500 like a hot knife through butter, began to be surrounded. Twenties from the back were sent to the side, to avoid encirclement, and Metellus Nepos and Ahenobarbus--no cowards--led a force of young Knights and Senators to outflank the rabble with only their fists, elbows, and feet to attack with.

Surprised at such Senatorial defiance, outflanked, demoralized, and facing a superior opponent, the survivors of the 500 men fled when a group of about 100 Lictors bearing their fasces with axes inserted descended on the scene from the Capitol, having heard the shouts and sound of weapon-on-shield or metal-on-metal from a distance.

The Lictors, fresh and unwearied, led the pursuit for a quarter-mile up the Argiletum to the north, toward the Subura. When the fleeing villains ran down this alley or that, vanishing into the woodwork of the Subura, the nervous Lictors realized that they were alone and marched quickly back to the Forum.

In the meantime, Metellus Nepos's youngbloods had regained their breath, and the elder group had sent a man to fetch as many public slaves as possible, to clean up the carnage. The 200 defenders of the Senate counted their dead at 27, and sent a man up the Argiletum to count the enemy dead; it came as 132. A cheer went up from Metellus Nepos and his supporters, and he ordered the 200 to remain between the Senators and the rostra.

The Lictors, having returned, guiltily removed the axes from their fasces and stood not quite knowing what to do; only a Dictator's Lictors were allowed to have axe-bound fasces within the Pomerium--Rome's sacred boundary, set by King Servius Tullius about a half-millennium ago. Nobody else, for their part, really knew what to do; certainly retroactively having a Dictator elected would do no good.

"Who saw you with the axes in your fasces?" asked Scaurus of the leader of the Lictors, one Quintus Accius.

"No man, Marcus Aemilius Scaurus," said the man respectfully. He was an ex-centurion, as most Lictors were, and the awe of seeing and meeting the leading lights of the Republic had quite worn away; however, he still respected them, and would rather murder a thousand rabble scum that see a man like Scaurus harmed.

"Any women?" asked nearby Ahenobarbus slyly; some listeners tittered until they saw Scaurus's grave face.

When attention was back on the Lictor, he said, "No; no man, no woman, no child even. The city has been anticipating this for some time, I think. They didn't want any part of it, as participant or as witness.

Scaurus sighed with relief, and the rest followed suit. "Good, then there will be no accusations of tyranny; if the rabble that attacked us bring it up, we'll just say that they were lying. Agreed?" Every man present agreed. Now Scaurus turned to Metellus Nepos with anger and fear in his eyes. "Now what were you thinking? How could you have two hundred men so close to the Forum, and armed so?"

"Easy," shrugged Metellus Nepos, knowing his secret found out. "I bought an insula in the Velabrum and billeted them there. They weren't too expensive to arm or maintain." Of course not, for Metellus Nepos.

Scaurus shook his head sadly. "Oh, this will drive a deep rift into Rome! Better we had all fled or died than employed such violence. The city would have turned against Memmius and Fimbria eventually. This is worse than your show of force on the day of Quintus Lutatius's trial!"

"Well I quite disagree!" hissed Quintus Lutatius Catulus Caesar--who would have been in exile had it not been for Metellus Nepos--vehemently. "If that's how you feel, Marcus Aemilius--that you'd rather see us all dead than order and peace restored--then I guess I'd better leave." He turned on his heel, followed by his brother Lucius Julius Caesar. Metellus Nepos, seeing that Scaurus would not be budged, and beyond caring, also turned--in the direction of his 200 men, to dismiss them--and was followed by about half of the gathering, as well as by quite a few of the older Senators.

The whole world, thought Scaurus, is falling apart around my ears.


The next night, with no violence in the city but with tension at its highest, Lucius Cassius Longinus Junior received a letter from his father, Ravilla the Proconsul. Longinus Junior was 22 years old, a few years shy of eligibility for Military Tribune, but was somewhat ambitious, if not exactly intelligent. Wishing to insert himself into public life as soon as possible, he avidly followed Metellus Nepos and Ahenobarbus, and was one of the most fervent advocates of their actions.

He was also hopelessly in love with Aurelia Cotta, whom he had only seen on a few occasions. This obsession was the main reason for his father's attempt at procuring the marriage; it was also the second reason for his involvement in the tempestuous politics of the day. He knew that it would impress Aurelia--or, at least, he thought so. To attain her hand, he had to outdo war heroes Metellus (the son of Numidicus) and Ahenobarbus and Drusus Junior, august Scipio Nasica Junior, the rich Metelli Caprarilli, rich Appius Claudius Pulcher, and many others; how better to do this in his situation than to become a force in violent city politics?

The letter from his father read:

Son,

You will be glad to hear that I am in Brundisium, and will be in Rome in perhaps ten days to celebrate my triumph. Your good friend Lucius Aurelius Cotta is of course with me, and will be ecstatic to see you. I let Quintus Servilius Caepio Junior in command at Bylazora; let him try anything funny, and the legions will see him humiliated!

I have heard the most disturbing news. Is it true that Marcus Antonius Orator was assassinated in Ostia? It sounded ridiculous to me, but how could such news be given out were it not true? If it is true, give my sincere condolences to his widow Caninia, and please tell me more. What kind of investigation has there been? What's been found out? I can't wait to hear more.

Well, I'm here just ten days from Rome, and I can't wait to see you, son.

Love,
Dad

Longinus Junior, warm inside--for though they were not too much alike, father and son loved each other very much--immediately drew a sheet of parchment to him and began to pen a letter, thinking all the while. Oh, he would extol the virtues of Metellus Nepos, and describe the current violence--oh, and Titus Bruttius's death, oh gods! That would go in too!

And a thought crept into his mind. If violence was what was needed, and his father had 5,000 veterans that were going to be camped on the Campus Martius in ten days...he called his steward in and sent the man with a note for Metellus Nepos and Ahenobarbus.
 
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