Lustrum

you?'
    'No. That's why I've brought the wretched thing straight round to you. I never could get the hang of all this legal talk.'
    'This is a writ for treason.' Cicero scanned the document with an expression of increasing puzzlement. 'Odd. I would have thought they would have come after you for corruption.'
    'I say, Cicero, there's no chance of some wine, is there?'
    'Just a moment. Let's try to keep our heads clear for business for a little while longer. It says here that you lost an army in Histria.'
    'Only the infantry.'
    'Only the infantry!' Cicero laughed. 'When was that?'
    'A year ago.'
    'Who is the prosecutor? Has he been appointed yet?'
    'Yes, he was sworn in yesterday. He's that protégé of yours – young Caelius Rufus.'
    The news came as a complete shock. That Rufus had become completely estranged from his former mentor was no secret. But that he should choose as his first significant foray into public life the prosecution of Cicero's consular colleague – that was an act of real treachery. Cicero actually sat down, he was so taken aback. He said, 'I thought it was Pompey who was most determined to have you put on trial?'
    'He is.'
    'Then why is he letting Rufus cut his teeth on such an important case?'
    'I don't know. What about that wine now?'
    'Forget the damned wine for a minute.' Cicero rolled up the writ and sat tapping it against the palm of his hand. 'I don't like the sound of this. Rufus knows a lot about me. He could bring up all kinds of things.' He threw it back into Hybrida's lap. 'I think you should get someone else to defend you.'
    'But I want you! You're the best. We had an agreement, remember? I would give you a share of the money and you would shield me from prosecution.'
    'I agreed to defend you if ever you were charged with corruption. I never said anything about treason.'
    'That's not true. You're breaking your word.'
    'Look, Hybrida, I'll appear as a witness in your support, but this could be an ambush – laid by Caesar, probably, or Crassus – and I'd be a fool to walk straight into it.'
    Hybrida's eyes, though now buried deep in his flesh, were still very blue, like sapphires pressed into a lump of red clay. 'People tell me you've come up in the world,' he said. 'Houses everywhere.'
    Cicero made a weary gesture. 'Don't try to threaten me.'
    'All this,' said Hybrida, pointing around the library. 'Very nice. Do people know how you got the money to pay for it?'
    'I warn you: I could as readily appear as a witness for the prosecution as for the defence.'
    But the threat sounded hollow, and Cicero must have known it, for he suddenly wiped his hand across his face, as if trying to expunge some disturbing vision.
    'I think you should join me in that cup of wine,' said Hybrida, with deep satisfaction. 'Things always look better after a little drink.'
    On the evening before the vote on Caesar's land bill, we could hear loud noises rising from the forum – hammering and sawing, drunken singing, cheers, cries, the breaking of pots. At dawn, a shroud of brown smoke hung over the area beyond the Temple of Castor where the voting was to take place.
    Cicero dressed carefully and went down to the forum, accompanied by two guards, two members of his household staff – myself and another secretary – and half a dozen clients who wished to be seen with him. All the streets and alleys leading to the voting ground were crammed with citizens. Many, when they recognised Cicero, stood out of the way to let him through. But at least an equal number deliberately blocked his path and had to be pushed out of the way by his guards. It was a struggle for us to make progress, and by the time we found a spot with a view of the temple steps, Caesar was already speaking. It was impossible to hear more than a few words. A great press of bodies, thousands of them, stretched between us and him. The majority looked to be old soldiers who had been there all night, and who had lit fires to cook and keep themselves warm. 'These men are not attending this assembly,' Cicero observed, 'they are occupying it.'
    After some time we became aware of scuffling in the direction of the Via Sacra, on the opposite side of the crowd to where we were standing, and the word quickly went round that Bibulus had arrived with the three tribunes who were intending to veto the bill. It was a tremendously brave action on their part. All around us men began pulling out from beneath their clothing knives and even swords. Bibulus and his