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crushing debt. They can be bought by any politician with a heavy purse.”
    “That is very true,” Hortalus said, nodding.
    “Next year, if I succeed in being elected censor—”
    “The censorship is yours for the asking, Appius Claudius,” I assured him.
    “Hear, hear,” Hortalus affirmed.
    “I thank you both. Anyway, I intend to use that office to purge the Senate of its worst elements, starting with all those disgraceful debtors.”
    “I hope,” Hortalus said, “that you get a colleague who will cooperate with you. My own censorship was ideal because I had the elder Decius as colleague. But poor Crassus could do nothing because his colleague kept overruling every decision he made. He had to quit before even finishing the census or performing the lustrum.”
    “Who is most likely to win the other censorship?” I asked. “As Quintus Hortensius has observed, I’ve been out of touch.”
    “I am hoping for the elder Cassius,” Appius said, “but it’s more likely to be Calpurnius Piso. If so, I can work with him. He’s one of those who tries not to declare for Caesar or Pompey, but they’re a vanishing breed. It’s a disgrace that Romans of rank have to be seen as supporters of one would-be tyrant or the other, but one must face the situation realistically.”
    By this time we were near the house of Marcellus. I got out of the litter, took my leave of the two men, and proceeded to walk the short distance to my own home with Hermes and the rest of my men. They had spent the evening loitering around Father’s house, doubtless talking politics like the rest of Rome.
    “Did you get anything accomplished?” Hermes wanted to know.
    “Just a lot of talk,” I told him. Around us the others held torches aloft and peered into dark alleys, their faces truculent, hands resting on hilts.
    “Same here. The mood in the city’s strange since we got back. The quiet is unnatural. Everybody is waiting for something to happen. People are seeing omens everywhere. I just heard about a two-headed calf born near Arpinum, and a hawk killed one of Juno’s geese this morning.”
    “At least it wasn’t a snake,” I said. “When a snake gets into the temple and swallows a goose egg, the city’s on edge for days waiting for disaster. People need something to take their minds off all this peace and quiet. Now would be a good time for some games. It’s been almost two months since the Plebeian Games and the next official celebrations won’t be until spring. Hasn’t anybody important died? A good
munera
would be just the thing.”
    “Valerius Flaccus is just back from Cilicia. He was at the
ludus
yesterday arranging for his father’s funeral games, but that won’t be until March.” Hermes trained with weapons at the Statilian school on most mornings when he had no duties to perform for me, like that day’s canvassing for votes.
    “What a time for Rome’s wealthy and bereaved to turn stingy.” One by one my men left us to return to their own homes, accepting my thanks for their support and promising to be at my home before dawn to accompany me to the basilica. By the time we reached home, only Hermes and the torch boy were with me.
    Once inside I sent Hermes off to his bed and sought my own. Julia was already asleep. I threw off my clothes and lay down beside her, pleasantly tired and only slightly annoyed by the day’s proceedings. It was still good to be back in Rome, and anything was better than being in Gaul.
    I N THE MORNING THE SLAVES BROUGHT water for me to splash on my face, and within a few minutes I was sitting in the triclinium being shaved, having my hair dressed, and eatingbreakfast all at once. I was almost awake. Julia came in to supervise my grooming.
    “Did you find out anything yesterday?” I asked her.
    “Some odd things, but you don’t have time to hear about it if you’re going to be in the Forum at sunrise. Come home for lunch and I’ll tell you about it then.”
    “All right. In the