A Mixture of Madness, Book II of The Bow - By Levkoff, Andrew Page 0,68

him to sing or do a little lopsided dance?”

“Shall we get back to the matter at hand?” Crassus said.

Publius composed himself, barely. “Yes, of course. Forgive me.” He cleared his throat. “Do you remember Cassius Longinus?”

“He attended your party, ready to use his dagger for more than spearing fruit, as I recall.”

“That’s the man.” Publius pressed his lips together as if trying to prevent something from escaping. “Wait a moment!” he blurted. “If you are Jove, and Mother is Juno, then I must be Mars Invictus!”

“Yes, that’s quite droll, Publius. Just let us know when you’ve finished reciting the panoply.”

“All right, all right,” he said, holding up his hand. “Yes, Cassius.” He took a deep breath, calming himself. “He’s a good man. With your permission, I will approach him and ask him to join us. He is ambitious; he told me he feels held back, as well he might under Caesar’s command.”

“How do you know him?”

“He came down with me from Gaul. I met him years ago at Cicero’s. I know, I know—Tully is not your favorite exemplar of Roman resolve, but he has always been kind to me.” Crassus gave his son a stern but less than withering look. “To the point,” Publius continued, “Cassius had just returned from Rhodes and was invited to one of Cicero’s study sessions comparing the Academy Skeptics to the Stoics. You talk about your drunken confederacy of dissolute whoremongers, well…” Dominus and I stared blankly at Publius; after a moment he shook his head and continued, as much disappointed with his audience as we were with his japes. “That’s where we met. Cassius enlisted with the 7th and I’ve known him ever since. He’s trustworthy, a good soldier and strategist. If he accepts the commission, I’ll have him levy the troops, get them mustered in the south, and I’ll join you as soon as I am able.”

•••

Thus it was decided. But before he returned to Caesar, dominus helped pave the way for his son to climb the ancient, revered, but ofttimes ignored political ladder whose ascent was assured by his victories in Gaul. He was too young to become quaestor, the first official post in the cursus honorum (the position had a minimum age requirement of 30), but his father had him stand for two other respectable posts to start him on his way. He was elected almost unanimously to both.

Only one golden link remained to be forged: though young for his military prowess, Publius was beyond the age when wealthy Romans traditionally found an advantageous pairing for their male children. His sojourn in Gaul had postponed any thoughts of women beyond fleeting, forgettable couplings with camp followers and local whores. Returned to Rome, the boy who never once stared with trembling lower lip into the abyss of want continued his uncanny good fortune as a man. Publius was one of those rare individuals upon whom the gods never frowned, despite his arrogance and presumption. It was not that he expected through the privilege of his birth that good things must always come his way, for that would require contemplation of desire denied. Publius Crassus lived from one perfect moment to the next, heedless of the wonder of his charmed life. Once he crossed the pomerium, Eros was armed and ready for him the moment he leapt from his horse.

Priests were engaged to inspect with meticulous scrutiny the steaming entrails of an unwilling pig, whereupon they made their pronouncement. The entire month of Maius was rejected as unacceptable, that being the time reserved for making offerings to the dead. Which was a happy coincidence, because most senators fled to their country estates for the six-week recess beginning in mid-Aprilis. Not Crassus. Not this year. The priests chose a bright, auspicious day in early Junius, just before Publius was scheduled to depart Rome for the north. His marriage to a most willing Cornelia Metella would be the event of the season. And of course, she was the perfect match.

•••

The day after Hanno and Taog had interrupted our meeting with Publius, the boy and I were sorting the mail into piles: legal, political, supplications and personal. As it did every day, legal had the largest mound, followed by political argument, then requests for everything from money to land. There was one interesting application from one Gaius Octavius, a legate who had fought with Lucullus against Mithridates, king of Pontus. He was the first of several experienced military officers anxious to join this most public of