Lustrum

She was in a loose-necked gown and looked serene, as if the embarrassment of the afternoon had never occurred. Next to her reclined her husband Servius, one of Cicero's oldest friends and the most eminent jurist in Rome: no mean achievement in that city full of lawyers. But immersing oneself in the law is a little like bathing in freezing water – bracing in moderation, shrivelling in excess – and Servius over the years had become ever more hunched and cautious, whereas Postumia remained a beauty. Still, he had a following in the senate, and his ambition – and hers – burned strong. He planned to stand for consul himself in the summer, and Cicero had promised to support him.
    The only friend of Cicero's of longer standing than Servius was Atticus. He was lying beside his sister, Pomponia, who was married – unhappily, alas – to Cicero's younger brother, Quintus. Poor Quintus: he looked as if he had taken refuge from her shrewish taunts in the wine as usual. The final guest was young Marcus Caelius Rufus, who had been Cicero's pupil, and who kept up a stream of jokes and stories. As for Cicero, he reclined between Terentia and his beloved Tullia and was putting on a show of such nonchalance, laughing at Rufus's gossip, you would never have guessed he had a care. But it is one of the tricks ofthe successful politician, to be able to hold many things in mind at once and to switch between them as the need arises, otherwise life would be insupportable. After a while he glanced towards me and nodded. 'Friends,' he said, loudly enough to cut through the general chatter, 'it is getting late, and Tiro has come to remind me I have an inaugural address to make in the morning. Sometimes I think he should be the consul and I the secretary.' There was laughter, and I felt the gaze of everyone turn on me. 'Ladies,' he continued, 'if you would forgive me, I wonder if the gentlemen might join me in my study for a moment.'
    He dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin and threw it on to the table, then stood and offered his hand to Terentia. She took it with a smile all the more striking because it was so rare. She was like some twiggy winter plant that had suddenly put forth a bloom, warmed by the sun of Cicero's success – so much so that she had actually set aside her lifelong parsimony and dressed herself in a manner befitting the wife of a consul and future governor of Macedonia. Her brand-new gown was sewn with pearls, and other newly purchased jewels glinted all about her: at her narrow throat and thin bosom, at her wrists and on her fingers, even woven into her short dark curls.
    The guests filed out, the women turning towards the tablinum, the men moving into the study. Cicero told me to close the door. Immediately the pleasure drained from his face.
    'What's all this about, brother?' asked Quintus, who was still holding his wine glass. 'You look as if you've eaten a bad oyster.'
    'I hate to spoil a pleasant evening, but a problem has arisen.' Grimly Cicero produced the writ that had been served on Rabirius, then described the afternoon's delegation from the senate and his subsequent visit to Caesar. 'Read out what the rascal said, Tiro,' he ordered.
    I did as he asked, and when I came to the final part – Caesar's offer of protection – all four exchanged glances.
    'Well,' said Atticus, 'if you turn your back on Catulus and his friends after all the promises you made to them before the election, you may have need of his protection. They'll never forgive you.'
    'Yet if I keep my word to them, and oppose the populists' bill, then Caesar will find Rabirius guilty, and I'll be obliged to defend him on the Field of Mars.'
    'And that you simply must not do,' said Quintus. 'Caesar's quite right. Defeat is certain. At all costs, leave his defence to Hortensius.'
    'But that's impossible! I can hardly stay neutral as the president of the senate while a senator is crucified. What kind of consul would that make me?'
    'A live one, rather than a dead one,' replied Quintus, 'because if you throw in your lot with the patricians, believe me, you'll be in real danger. Almost everyone will be against you. Even the senate won't be united – Hybrida will see to that. There are plenty on those benches just waiting for an opportunity to bring you down, Catilina first among them.'
    'I've an idea,' said young Rufus. 'Why don't we smuggle Rabirius out of the city and hide him in the country somewhere till this blows over?'
    'Could