Lustrum

imperium. The only really menacing note was struck by Catilina. 'You have called yourself the people's consul,' he sneered at Cicero, when at long last his turn came to speak. 'Well, we shall see what the people have to say about that!' But the day belonged to the new consul, and when the light began to fade and he declared the session adjourned until after the Latin Festival, the patricians escorted him out of the temple and across the city to his home as if he were one of their own, rather than a despised 'new man'.
    Cicero was in a great good humour as he stepped across the threshold, for nothing is more pleasing in politics than to catch your opponents off guard, and the defection of Hybrida was all that anyone could talk about. Quintus, however, was furious, and the moment the house was at last emptied of well-wishers, he turned on his brother with an anger I had never before witnessed. It was all the more embarrassing because Atticus and Terentia were also present.
    'Why did you not consult any of us before giving away your province?' he demanded.
    'What does it matter? The effect is what counts. You were sitting opposite them. Whom did you think looked sicker – Caesar or Crassus?'
    But Quintus was not to be deflected. 'When was this decided?'
    'To be honest, I've had it in mind ever since I drew the lot for Macedonia.'
    At this, Quintus threw up his hands in exasperation. 'Do you mean to say that when we were talking to you last night, you'd already made up your mind?'
    'More or less.'
    'But why didn't you tell us?'
    'First, because I knew you'd disagree. Second, because I thought there was still just a chance Caesar might produce a bill I could support. And third, because what I choose to do with my province is my business.'
    'No, it's not just
your
business, Marcus, it's
our
business. How are we to pay off our debts without the income from Macedonia?'
    'You mean, how are
you
to finance
your
campaign for the praetorship this summer?'
    'That's unfair!'
    Cicero seized Quintus's hand. 'Brother, listen to me. You will have your praetorship. And you won't acquire it through bribery, but through the good name of the Cicero family, which will make the triumph all the sweeter. You must see I had to separate Hybrida from Caesar and the tribunes? My only hope of piloting the republic through this storm is to keep the senate united. I can't have my colleague plotting behind my back. Macedonia had to go.' He appealed to Atticus and Terentia. 'Who wants to govern a province, in any case? You know I couldn't bear to leave you all behind in Rome.'
    'And what's to stop Hybrida simply taking Macedonia off you and supporting the prosecution of Rabirius?' persisted Quintus.
    'Why would he bother? His only reason for joining their schemes was money. Now he can pay off his debts without them. Besides, nothing's signed and sealed – I can always change mymind. And meanwhile by this noble gesture I show the people I'm a man of principle who puts the welfare of the republic ahead of his own personal gain.'
    Quintus looked at Atticus. Atticus shrugged. 'The logic is sound,' he said.
    'And what do you think, Terentia?' asked Quintus.
    Cicero's wife had kept very quiet, which was unlike her. Even now she did not say anything, but continued to stare at her husband, who stared back at her impassively. Slowly she reached up to her hair, and from those tight dark curls she plucked the diadem that was fastened there. Still without taking her eyes from Cicero's face she removed the necklace from her throat, unclipped the emerald brooch from her breast, and slid the gold bracelets from each of her wrists. Finally, grimacing with the effort, she pulled the rings off her fingers. When she had finished, she cupped all this newly purchased jewellery in her two hands, and let it fall. The glittering gems and precious metal scattered noisily across the mosaic floor. Then she turned and walked out of the room.

IV
    We had to leave Rome at first light the next morning, part of that great exodus of magistrates, their families and retainers required to attend the Latin Festival on the Alban Mount. Terentia accompanied her husband, and the atmosphere between them inside their carriage was as chilly as the January mountain air outside. The consul kept me busy, dictating first a long dispatch to Pompey, describing political affairs in Rome, and then a series of shorter letters to each of the provincial governors, while Terentia kept her eyes averted