Maecenas said, voice hard.
‘Only the Ninth can be said to have mutinied directly against Caesar, thanks to a dozen corrupt centurions in the pay of Pompeius Magnus’s cronies. For the rest, blame Antonius. He put them up to it, no one else! He kept their centurions drunk and bought their spokesmen. He worked on them!’ Agrippa said contemptuously. ‘Antonius is a mischief maker, not a political genius. He lacks any subtlety. Why else is he even thinking of landing his men in Italia? It makes no sense! Have you declared war on him? Has Lepidus? He’s doing it because he’s afraid of you.’
‘Antonius is no bigger a mischief maker than Sextus Pompeius Magnus Pius, to give him his full name,’ said Maecenas, and laughed. ‘I hear that Sextus sent tata-in-law Libo to Athens to ask Antonius to join him in crushing you.’
‘How do you know that?’ Octavian demanded, sitting upright.
‘Like Ulysses, I have spies everywhere.’
‘So do I, but it’s news to me. What did Antonius answer?’
‘A sort of a no. No official alliance, but he won’t impede Sextus’s activities, provided they’re directed at you.’
‘How considerate of him.’ The extraordinarily beautiful face puckered, the eyes looked strained. ‘As well, then, that I took it upon myself to give Lepidus six legions and send him off to govern Africa. Has Antonius heard of that yet? My agents say no.’
‘So do mine,’ Maecenas said. ‘Antonius won’t be pleased, Caesar, so much is sure. Once Fango was killed, Antonius thought he had Africa in the sinus of his toga. I mean, who counts Lepidus? But now that the new governor is dead too, Lepidus will walk in. With Africa’s four legions and the six he took there with him, Lepidus has become a strong player in the game.’
‘I am aware of that!’ Octavian snapped, nettled. ‘However, Lepidus loathes Antonius far more than he loathes me. He’ll send Italia grain this autumn.’
‘With Sardinia gone, we’re going to need it,’ said Taurus.
Octavian looked at Agrippa. ‘Since we have no ships, we have to start building some. Agrippa, I want you to doff your insignia of office and go on a journey all the way around the peninsula from Tergeste to Liguria. You’ll be commissioning good stout war galleys. To beat Sextus, we need fleets.’
‘How do we pay for them, Caesar?’ Agrippa asked.
‘With the last of the planks.’
A cryptic reply that meant nothing to the other three, but was crystal clear to Agrippa, who nodded. ‘Planks’ was the codeword Octavian and Agrippa employed when they spoke of Caesar’s war chest.
‘Libo returned to Sextus empty-handed, and Sextus took—er—umbrage. Not sufficient umbrage to plague Antonius, but umbrage nonetheless,’ Maecenas said. ‘Libo didn’t like Antonius any better in Athens than he had in other places, therefore Libo is now an enemy dropping poison about Antonius in Sextus’s ear.’
‘What particularly piqued Libo?’ Octavian asked curiously.
‘With Fulvia gone, I think he had rather hoped to secure a third husband for his sister. What cleverer way to cement an alliance than a marriage? Poor Libo! My spies say he baited his hook with great variety. But the subject never came up, and Libo sailed back to Agrigentum a disappointed man.’
‘Hmmm.’ The golden brows knotted, the thick fair lashes came down over Octavian’s remarkable eyes. Suddenly he slapped both hands upon his knees and looked determined. ‘Maecenas, pack your things! You’re off to Agrigentum to see Sextus and Libo.’
‘With what purpose?’ Maecenas asked, misliking the mission.
‘Your purpose is to make a truce with Sextus that enables Italia to have grain this autumn, and for a reasonable price. You will do whatever is necessary to achieve that end, is that understood?’
‘Even if there’s a marriage involved?’
‘Even if.’
‘She’s in her thirties, Caesar. There’s a daughter, Cornelia, almost old enough for marriage.’
‘I don’t care how old Libo’s sister is! All women are the same from the waist down, so what does age matter? At least she won’t have the taint of a strumpet like Fulvia on her.’
No one commented upon the fact that, after two years, Fulvia’s daughter had been sent back to her virgo intacta. Octavian had married the girl to appease Antony, but had never slept with her. However, that couldn’t happen with Libo’s sister. Octavian would have to sleep with her, preferably fruitfully. In all things of the flesh he was as big a prude as Cato the Censor, so pray that Scribonia was neither ugly nor licentious. Everyone looked at the floor of tessellated tiles and pretended to be deaf, dumb, blind.
‘What if Antonius attempts to land in Brundisium?’ Salvidienus asked, to change the subject a little.
‘Brundisium is fortified within an inch of its life; he won’t get a single troop transport past the harbor chain,’ Agrippa said. ‘I supervised the fortification of Brundisium myself, you know that, Salvidienus.’
‘There are other places he can land.’
‘And undoubtedly will, but with all those troops?’ Octavian looked tranquil. ‘However, Maecenas, I want you back from Agrigentum in a tearing hurry.’
‘The winds are against,’ Maecenas said, sounding desolate. Who needed to spend any part of summer in a cesspit like Sextus Pompey’s Sicilian township of Agrigentum?
‘All the better to bring you home quickly. As for getting there – row! Take a gig to Puteoli and hire the fastest ship and the best oarsmen you can find. Pay them double their going rate. Now, Maecenas, now!’
And so the group broke up; only Agrippa stayed.
‘What’s your latest count on the number of legions we have to oppose Antonius?’
‘Ten, Caesar. Though it wouldn’t matter if all we had were three or four. Neither side will fight. I keep saying it, but every ear is deaf except yours and Salvidienus’s.’
‘I heard you because in that fact lies our salvation. I refuse to believe I’m beaten,’ Octavian said. He sighed, smiled ruefully. ‘Oh, Agrippa, I hope this woman of Libo’s is bearable! I haven’t had much luck with wives.’
‘They’ve been someone else’s choice, no more than political expedients. One day, Caesar, you’ll choose a woman for yourself, and she won’t be a Servilia Vatia or a Clodia. Or, I suspect, a Scribonia Libone, if the deal with Sextus comes off.’ Agrippa cleared his throat, looked uneasy. ‘Maecenas knew, but has left me to tell you the news from Athens.’
‘News? What news?’
‘Fulvia opened her veins.’
For a long moment Octavian said nothing, just stared at the Circus Maximus so fixedly that Agrippa fancied he had gone away to some place beyond this world. A mass of contradictions, was Caesar. Even in his mind, Agrippa never thought of him as Octavianus; he had been the first person to call Octavian by his adopted name, though
