The Horse Changer

The Horse Changer by Craig Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: The Horse Changer by Craig Smith Read Free Book Online
Authors: Craig Smith
he was not finished. He told me he intended to make war on the Parthians the following year. He looked in my eyes with all the sincerity of a father and said that he was going to need me with him. If I would only promise to make a full recovery, he meant to promote me to the rank of prefect at once.
    If I had not loved Caesar before, I would have loved him then. It was his way to draw one into his circle, to offer confidences and ask help, though he was Caesar and had all the world ready to serve him. Would I go to Parthia? I would have followed him to the ends of the earth. I will tell you something else about Caesar, a thing I only learned some years later. He made much the same speech to every young officer in that hospital.

    Caesar’s forces found and killed Gnaeus Pompey a fortnight after the city of Ronda surrendered. Cordoba fell soon afterwards. There was some concern when it was reported that Sextus Pompey had escaped capture, but Caesar did not let it spoil his victory. Sextus Pompey was twenty, just a boy. By Caesar’s reckoning, hardly worth the trouble of chasing down. Or so went the argument. His victory now secure, Caesar travelled back to Rome. This time he managed a leisurely pace. His victory in Spain had quieted the seditious parties in Rome.
    Not long after Caesar’s journey began, Octavian joined the procession. Octavian’s ship was in excellent condition. The problem was that Octavian himself had become ill during the voyage. Fearing for their friend’s life, Octavian’s companions spent the winter on one of the Balearic Islands. Caesar was so relieved to see him alive that he invited the lad into his carriage. This is of course the highest honour an imperator can bestow on one of his subordinates.
    When Antony joined Caesar at Marseille, Octavian got shuttled out of the carriage and onto a horse, but he still basked in the great man’s glory as he rode beside Caesar’s carriage in the second highest position of honour.
    I missed these happy reunions and changing of seats. I spent the spring and summer not far from Seville on the grand estate of Ulpius Trajan. His granddaughter, Ulpia, a girl of seven or eight years, was often in my room to care for me. I recall her reading various histories to me and even a novel about a kidnapped princess. She was a sweet child and always worried that the slaves neglected me.
    I recall when I left, most of the family was there to see me off, but once my carriage was on the road only Ulpia kept watching as I rolled away. I never expected to see the girl again, but I must say it was hard to forget her sweet temperament and beautiful brown eyes. In the years that followed, I often wondered if she had become the perfect beauty her childhood had promised.
Rome: October, 45 BC
    From Seville I caught a ship to Ostia; from there I hired a carriage and rode to the Camp of Mars like a gentleman. The senate had awarded three Triumphs for the war in Spain, two for legates under Caesar’s authority, the last for Caesar himself. The year before Caesar had enjoyed three Triumphs as well. Those had commemorated Caesar’s conquest of Gaul, his campaigns in Egypt and Pontus, and his victory over Pompey Magnus in Greece and Cato in Africa. Perhaps the three Spanish Triumphs failed to live up to the spectacle of the year before. Perhaps it was the sheer number of Triumphs in such a short amount of time that spoiled the mob. Whatever the case, the first two Triumphs passed quietly, notable only for the mob’s lack of enthusiasm. When Caesar’s turn came and he paraded his full army through Rome, the mob jeered and hissed. For the glory I had won in Spain I was treated to a barrage of rotten fruit, dung, and rocks. By the end of my journey along the Via Sacra, such was the fury of the spectators, I counted myself lucky to get by with only that much abuse. In the history of Rome there had been nothing like it. The outrage left all of us who rode with Caesar bruised and

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