his face, but what was visible of his chest, arms and legs was hairless.
“There you are, Gaius! Of course you’re not interrupting. Sit, sit. I trust it was not our engineers that roused you at this hour?”
“I slept as soundly as if Cato himself knelt by my bedside to whisper sweet and endless orations in my ear.”
“That is a good night’s sleep.”
“I have never understood the need of it. As far as I can fathom, it serves no useful purpose, save to give the wakeful advantage. Two or three hours is all any active man should require.”
“Our wives must disagree, since I have seen neither of them this morning. Please sit. That’s better. Well, my young friend, we’ve come a long way from Apulia, haven’t we?
“I had no idea you were aware I fought under your command against Spartacus.”
“I wasn’t. But Alexander here did a little research and pointed out your name in the rolls. Come, tell me the news. And no politics. Let’s have nothing to disturb our bucolic otium, aside from the unfortunate construction. We’ll be forced to shun the gardens and picnic in the country today. How is your family? How fares your niece? I understand she had some difficulty last year with her pregnancy.”
“Atia has recovered fully, thank you for asking. Octavian will be a year old come September.”
“Splendid. Alexander, bring our guest some melon.”
“Just water.”
When I returned with a pitcher and goblets, Crassus was saying, “I didn’t realize you were a man of such piety.” The remark was rich with sarcasm. I poured the water and receded to my place in the shadows to study this most recent of my master’s friends. Gaius Julius Caesar was in his late thirties, but he sat with an easy elegance as if on a throne, as if nothing he desired could stand against the sheer force of his will to acquire or achieve it. Ambition. You could see it leaking from every pore of his body, but no place more than his eyes. Ambition, and pride, and arrogance. He had the look of a soldier, but a man could rarely be considered great in Rome if he did not have a taste for blood. I had heard him speak on the rostra several years before. He claimed his bloodline to be descended not only from kings, but from the gods themselves!
What did Crassus see in him? What need of him did he have? Surely it was not a friendship based solely on amity. He set my nerves on edge, and I admit I was frightened by him. In the end, I suppose I should have been more afraid of the love of a husband for his wife, and the misguided lengths to which it would drive him.
“To serve the people,” Caesar was saying, “they must elect me. To elect me, they must love me. To love me, they must see how the gods favor me. Who is more favored by the gods than the pontifex maximus?”
“Your logic is appalling. I shall have to hire out Alexander here as your tutor.” Athena forefend. “What the people love are the bribes you spread to secure the election. How else could you have won without a single grey hair on your head? You must be broke.”
“Not as destitute after the election as I am now.” Crassus cocked an eyebrow. “You know the hill above the old naval base at Misenum?”
“The tip of the cape with the fabulous view of the bay.”
“That’s the place.”
“It’s lovely. Tertulla and I sometimes go there for a stroll. We could venture there today, if you like.”
“I bought it.”
Crassus barked a short laugh. “You’re insane! Who did you borrow the money from? You didn’t come to me.”
“I expect I will. Eventually. My creditors have nothing to fear. When I earn a command, the spoils of conquest will repay all with interest. I’m thinking Hispania Ulterior.”
“So you’ll be standing for praetor.”
“No army, no glory. No glory, no gold. But I’ll need your support. Can I count on you when the time comes later this year?”
“Of course. Providing, as you plow your way up the cursus honorum, you clear an equally unobstructed path for my own interests as they arise.”
“Naturally. And you know, I’ve been thinking. As wet a sponge as Hispania may be, from what untapped source do you think the most treasure may be wrung to lay at a grateful Rome’s feet?”
“Gaul? Britannia? Egypt?”
“Parthia.”
“Parthia? Sulla once spoke to me of that wasteland of barbarism. There must be