Caesar's Women by Colleen McCullough Read Free Book Online Page A

than the current one had been banished to Sulla's Tabularium, and as a consequence Treasury officials and underlings had proliferated. Another Roman anathema, civil servants, but the Treasury was, after all, the Treasury; the public moneys had to be properly planted, cultivated and harvested, even if that did mean abhorrently big numbers of public employees.
    While his entourage hung back to watch bright-eyed and proud, Caesar strolled up to the great carved door in the side wall of Saturn's podium. He was clad in spotless white toga with the broad purple stripe of the senator on the right shoulder of his tunic, and he wore a chaplet of oak leaves around his head because this was a public occasion and he had to wear his Civic Crown on all public occasions. Whereas another man might have gestured to an attendant to ply the knocker, Caesar did that himself, then waited until the door opened cautiously and a head appeared around it.
    “Gaius Julius Caesar, quaestor of the province of Further Spain under the governorship of Gaius Antistius Vetus, wishes to present the accounts of his province, as law and custom demand,” said Caesar in a level voice.
    He was admitted, and the door closed behind him; all the clients remained outside in the fresh air.
    “I believe you only got in yesterday, is that right?” asked Marcus Vibius, Treasury chief, when Caesar was conducted into his gloomy office.
    “Yes.”
    “There isn't any hurry about these things, you know.”
    “As far as I'm concerned there is. My duty as quaestor is not ended until I have presented my accounts.”
    Vibius blinked. “Then by all means present them!”
    Out from the sinus of Caesar's toga came seven scrolls, each one sealed twice, once with Caesar's ring and once with Antistius Vetus's ring. When Vibius went to break the seals on the first scroll, Caesar stopped him.
    “What is it, Gaius Julius?”
    “There are no witnesses present.”
    Vibius blinked again. “Oh well, we don't usually worry too much about trifles like that,” he said easily, and picked up the scroll with a wry smile.
    Caesar's hand came out, wrapped itself around Vibius's wrist. “I suggest you commence to worry about trifles like that,” said Caesar pleasantly. “These are the official accounts of my quaestorship in Further Spain, and I require witnesses throughout my presentation. If the time isn't convenient to produce witnesses, then give me a time which is convenient, and I will come back.”
    The atmosphere inside the room changed, became frostier. “Of course, Gaius Julius.”
    But the first four witnesses were not to Caesar's taste, and it was only after some twelve had been inspected that four were found who did suit Caesar's taste. The interview then proceeded with a speed and cleverness which had Marcus Vibius gasping, for he was not used to quaestors with a grasp of accounting, nor to a memory so good it enabled its owner to reel off whole screeds of data without consultation of written material. And by the time that Caesar was done, Vibius was sweating.
    “I can honestly say that I have rarely, if ever, seen a quaestor present his accounts so well,” Vibius admitted, and wiped his brow. “All is in order, Gaius Julius. In fact, Further Spain ought to give you a vote of thanks for sorting out so many messes.” This was said with a conciliatory smile; Vibius was beginning to understand that this haughty fellow intended to be consul, so it behooved him to flatter.
    “If all is in order, I will have an official paper from you to say so. Witnessed.”
    “I was about to do it.”
    “Excellent!” said Caesar heartily.
    “And when will the moneys arrive?” asked Vibius as he ushered his uncomfortable visitor out.
    Caesar shrugged. “That is not in my province to control. I imagine the governor will wait to bring all the moneys with him at the end of his term.”
    A tinge of bitterness crept into Vibius's face. “And isn't that typical?” he exclaimed rhetorically.