The Senator
The Senator
All of the tension and stress; which had been mounting, every hour of the day; yet another day, of struggle; eased gradually from his shoulders and neck, at the expert hands of the masseur.
He felt sure he was actually drooling now into the cloth around his face.
He finally allowed a long exhalation of contentment, and thought instead of the young woman he was meeting with later, at an inn, not far from the Capitol.
A muffled voice from his colleague in the Senate distracted him momentarily. He was not sure whether to perhaps pretend he hadn’t heard the man.
Although a close enough colleague, that they might take a massage together; he was not privy to such personal indiscretions. The man had no idea how to enjoy himself, really.
“I said,’our enemies in the House are wearing down’. There’s every chance we can prolong this war indefinitely.” He said, sitting up and laughing.
“If we can just maintain the right level of xenophobia, and patriotic indignation. And continue to distribute the right monies, and favours to the right people of course…”
“Yes. It’s always good to have the “other” isn’t it? It so galvanises a people, into hating where you direct.” He said, finally sitting up from the massage table with a groan. “Makes them so much more amenable to looking the other way.
Not to mention, the worst of a disgruntled, and otherwise useless, population being funneled nicely now, into the Army.”
“well it’s our original enemy we have to thank for that. Or at least, your father’s.” said the other man.
“Gaius Marius? I know, I know,”
Why did he always have to bring the man up, in conversation? He wondered. Perhaps he fancied the old fool.
“I mean the man may be brilliant, but he’s little better than an Italian himself hehe.” he continued.
Was he praising him?
The man who was speaking arose; standing naked, his skin red from the strigil. He dismissed the masseur with a wave.
Another slave moved to pat him down, with a towel and dress him.
He ignored this; stretching his arms with a sigh.
His name was Publius Furius, a Senator of Rome, and fast becoming one of her wealthiest young men. Though from a family of no real account.
Watching him; was one Gnaeus Caecilius Scipio Nasica, from a family of enormous clout; in both politics, and the military.
Although, it was difficult to tell the difference these days.
Rome was at war.
Against most of Italy.
His family’s nickname of Nasica, was attested by his beaky blade of a nose; and he looked down its entire length at the other man.
Italian?
You’re a New Man, yourself, you fool. he thought.
He surveyed his body. Publius Furius was half his age, yet corpulent and pampered. His time as Military Tribune in Syria, had obviously paid off.
But, “I hear you’re thinking of standing for election; as Urban Ædile next year.” is what he said. “That is, don’t you think, perhaps; a courageous move?”
Fully dressed in tunic and having had their body slaves wrap them both in toga, they left the bathhouse and turned onto the Via Nova heading toward the Capitol.
“‘Courageous’, huh? Damn you, Scipio. What are you trying to tell me?”
The late afternoon sun was slanting between the buildings and throwing light onto the dust motes raised by thousands of tramping feet.
Scipio, as he styled himself; in honor of his Hannibal-defeating forebear; took the other man by the arm, with an intense look.
“Do not do it, Publius. You cannot win.”
For a second, Publius Furius, gripped the empty folds, of Scipio’s togate arm. “What have you heard? Has someone spoken out against me? Was it Scaurus?”
“Calm yourself, Publius. No one has criticised you.” he removed the man’s hand. He realised his chief fault lay in a lack of imagination.
You’re not significant enough for anyone to criticize. Ha! Scaurus indeed! he thought.
He watched Publius Furius’s face transform; slowly, from fear to realisation, as of a punchline.
“Oh I see,” he smirked. “Is this another one of your strange premonitions? Your visions? Is it part of The Mysteries?” he began to chuckle now.
Fool. thought Scipio. He is riding a mad horse, for a fall; and perhaps I should let him. But, senatorial connections meant everything. Publius Furius was his Client. He owed him some protection.
“Cato.” was all he said.
Silence.
“He has,…someone else in mind?” He had the brief pleasure, of watching Publius Furius swallow thickly, as he asked.
“I’m afraid so.” Scipio replied, trying to appear sympathetic.
“Can I know who?”
“No,” he said flatly. He really had no desire to watch the man squirm like this. Oh well.
He moved away from him. “Well, until later, my friend. I have an important meeting to attend.”
Publius Furius looked desperately curious at this. And perhaps, slightly worried. The man was obsessed; with someone disclosing his secret business dealings; forbidden a member of the Senate.
Nobody cares. Scipio wanted to tell him. Certainly, no one cared about his tremendous ability to bribe.
The man’s fears were truly pedestrian.
Scipio himself owned entire towns.
And their hinterlands. Vast areas to the North of Italia; rich in iron and steel in neutral territory.
Well, mostly neutral, anyway.
These towns were all dedicated to one purpose.
And one purpose only.
The production of military arms and equipment.
Scipio was getting enormously rich, selling to both sides. His meeting, was business in nature..
Walking away rapidly, he thought once again of the woman, a Sex Worker, he was meeting with later. He enjoyed her company more than that of most of his friends, he reflected. She actually knew how the world worked; and was far more politically astute than most of his colleagues.
She was also his key to the Mysteries.
And his way in to a truly potent group who dealt in them.