Chapter XI #3
I had expected to meet a cut-throat pirate.
Instead, he was slim, and noble in appearance, with courteous manners.
He treated Caesar and Antony with friendly respect.
But once we had searched one another for hidden weapons, beneath his charm he proved a determined negotiator.
In return for withdrawing from Italy and allowing imports of grain to resume, he demanded legitimacy: a seat in the Senate, a future consulship, and recognition of his governorship not just of Sicily and Sardinia, but also of Corsica.
And given that Caesar was now bound to Antony through marriage, he wanted an equivalent alliance to demonstrate his importance.
His own daughter was still a child, therefore he proposed that Caesar should marry Scribonia, the sister of his father-in-law, Libo.
Caesar objected strongly to a union with Sextus’s aunt-by-marriage, not only because she was thirty and already had a husband, but because Libo came from plebian stock whereas the Julians were patrician.
Libo, in turn, was insulted by his snobbery.
The atmosphere turned ugly – so much so that Antony took Caesar to one side and told him not to be so squeamish.
– You don’t have to fuck her, man – just marry her!
With undisguised ill grace, Caesar returned to the table and agreed.
The day did not end there. Sextus insisted the pact should be sealed by a dinner on his flagship.
I was unhappy with this, and so, I could see, were Antony and Caesar.
But as the point of the day had been to establish trust between the three, it was difficult to refuse.
Reluctantly we allowed ourselves to be rowed over to the enormous vessel, where a sumptuous meal had been laid out on the upper deck.
I asked to be given a tour of this floating fortress, during which I made a mental note of its defences.
As we settled down to eat, I complimented Sextus on such a powerful ship. He gave a gracious smile.
– I suppose I should call it my ancestral home, given that Antony is living in my father’s house.
Antony glared at him for a moment, then banged the table and roared with laughter.
We all joined in, and afterwards the tension eased and we passed an engrossing evening, part of it spent listening to Antony and Sextus swap stories about the war between Pompey and the elder Caesar, in which both had fought.
Just before we left, Menas, the ship’s captain, bent down and whispered in Sextus’s ear. Sextus frowned and shook his head and whispered something back. The captain withdrew. Realising we had all been watching, Sextus offered an explanation.
– He just asked if he should cut the hawser and then cut your throats. I told him he should have done it without asking.
And on that convivial note, amid much renewed laughter, the evening ended.
Caesar’s wedding was a less joyous event.
His bride, Scribonia, was almost a decade his senior, a stately matron with a teenaged son by her first husband, who was dead, and a daughter by her second, who was still alive.
She had not wanted to divorce him. Her expression as she joined hands with Caesar was as miserable as a mask from a Greek tragedy. He scowled throughout.
To symbolise the general reconciliation, this ceremony took place in Antony’s house.
Among those invited was Salvidienus. He came alone, completely unsuspecting, and as the guests gathered to dine, at a signal from Antony he was suddenly surrounded by Antony’s bodyguards and hustled out of the room.
It was done so quickly I do not believe anyone apart from me even noticed.
He was taken down to the cellar, and during a lull between the wedding toasts, Antony and Caesar slipped away to confront him. When they returned to their places, Caesar beckoned me over. I noticed that part of his toga was spattered with tiny droplets of blood.
– Old Big Nose confessed at once. With both of us there, what else could he do? Go and talk to him. Offer him a choice between a public trial and suicide. Tell him that if he chooses suicide, I give him my word his wife and children will be looked after.
The cellar passage was full of legionaries – so many they had to press themselves against the walls to let me pass. I asked one of them for his sword.
They had laid Salvidienus on the floor in a storeroom with his arms bound tightly behind him at the wrists and elbows.
He had a rag stuffed in his mouth. His face was bloody and beginning to swell.
When I sat him upright, I saw that one of his eyes had been gouged out and his famous big nose broken.
I pulled the rag from his mouth and repeated Caesar’s offer.
He coughed up blood and spat out a tooth.
– Does he really expect me to believe he will keep his word?
– For what it’s worth, I shall make sure he does.
– You? You really think you have that much influence over him?
If so, you’re a fool. He is solitary and cruel, a flimsy scrap of a man hiding behind an enormous name.
Remember what he did at Perusia? Now look at me.
Oh yes, he is very brave – as long as he has a victim bound and helpless before him!
Well, he’s all yours now. Tell him I accept his offer. Cut my ropes and give me your sword.
I did as he asked. He dragged himself to his feet.
– Antony is the better man, even if he did betray me. Take care, Agrippa. One day this will be you.
He grasped the hilt, put the point of the blade beneath his chin, took a final breath and jammed it into his throat.
I waited until I was sure he was dead, then made my way back upstairs to join the wedding feast.