Caesar's Women Read Free Page A

audience for his slurs in creatures like Cato.”
    “What precisely is Bibulus saying?” Aurelia asked, lips set.
    “Oh, that instead of returning directly from Spain to Rome, your son has preferred to foment rebellion among the people in Italian Gaul who don't have the Roman citizenship,” said Terentia.
    “That,” said Servilia, “is absolute nonsense!”
    “And why,” asked a man's deep voice, “is it nonsense, lady?”
    The room fell still until little Julia erupted out of her corner and flew to leap at the newcomer. “Tata! Oh, tata!”
    Caesar lifted her off the ground, kissed her lips and her cheek, hugged her, smoothed her frosty hair tenderly. “How is my girl?” he asked, smiling for her alone.
    But “Oh, tata!” was all Julia could find to say, tucking her head into her father's shoulder.
    “Why is it nonsense, lady?” Caesar repeated, swinging the child comfortably into the crook of his right arm, the smile now that he gazed upon Servilia gone even from his eyes, which looked into hers in a way acknowledging her sex, yet dismissing it as unimportant.
    “Caesar, this is Servilia, wife of Decimus Junius Silanus,” said Aurelia, apparently not at all offended that her son had so far found no time to greet her.
    “Why, Servilia?” he asked again, nodding at the name.
    She kept her voice cool and level, measured out her words like a jeweler his gold. “There's no logic in a rumor like that. Why should you bother to foment rebellion in Italian Gaul? If you went among those who don't have the citizenship and promised them that you would work on their behalf to get the franchise for them, it would be fitting conduct for a Roman nobleman who aspires to the consulship. You would simply be enlisting clients, which is proper and admirable for a man climbing the political ladder. I was married to a man who did foment rebellion in Italian Gaul, so I am in a position to know how desperate an alternative it is. Lepidus and my husband Brutus deemed it intolerable to live in Sulla's Rome. Their careers had foundered, whereas yours is just beginning. Ergo, what could you hope to gain by fomenting rebellion anywhere?”
    “Very true,” he said, a trace of amusement creeping into the eyes she had judged a little cold until that spark came.
    “Certainly true,” she answered. “Your career to date—at least insofar as I know it—suggests to me that if you did tour Italian Gaul talking to non-citizens, you were gathering clients.”
    His head went back, he laughed, looked magnificent—and, she thought, knew very well that he looked magnificent. This man would do nothing without first calculating its effect on his audience, though the instinct telling her that was purely that, an instinct; he gave not a vestige of his calculation away. “It is true that I gathered clients.”
    “There you are then,” said Servilia, producing a smile of her own at the left corner of her small and secretive mouth. “No one can reproach you for that, Caesar.” After which she added grandly, and in the most condescending tone, “Don't worry, I'll make sure the correct version of the incident is circulated.”
    But that was going too far. Caesar was not about to be patronized by a Servilian, patrician branch of the clan or no; his eyes left her with a contemptuous flick, then rested on Mucia Tertia among the women, who had all listened enthralled to this exchange. He put little Julia down and went to clasp both Mucia Tertia's hands warmly.
    “How are you, wife of Pompeius?” he asked.
    She looked confused, muttered something inaudible. Soon he passed to Cornelia Sulla, who was Sulla's daughter and his own first cousin. One by one he worked his way around the group, all of whom he knew save for Servilia. Who watched his progress with great admiration once she had coped with the shock of his cutting her. Even Perpennia succumbed to the charm, and as for Terentia—that redoubtable matron positively simpered! But then remained