Chapter 68: Become a Plebeian
Chapter 68: Become a Plebeian
“Honestly, I didn’t doubt you, but I was really surprised. You managed to infiltrate the place where the Vestal Priestesses were glaring with their eyes on fire, disguised as a woman.”
“···Now that I think about it, you already knew my name. Who are you exactly?”
“Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Danae, a freed slave who received the name of the Licinius clan from the Crassus family.”
“The Crassus family? Isn’t their eldest son Caesar’s son-in-law? Why would you help me?”
Pulcher’s voice is filled with thick suspicion.
What he had done could cause a huge political burden for Caesar.
He couldn’t understand why they would take his side.
Danae replied nonchalantly.
“Don’t you think it would be more burdensome for Caesar if your identity was revealed? Wouldn’t it be better for both sides if this incident ended with an unidentified intruder?”
“Is, is that so? Now that you mention it, it might be possible.”
“To be honest, I don’t think there’s much benefit in covering up for someone who caused such a big incident. But since your judgment has never been wrong, I guess I’m wrong.”
Pulcher’s face crumpled at Danae’s harsh words. He had no room to argue back after such a grave mistake.
“You’re quite bold for a freed slave.”
“Anyway, I’m a free citizen now. You said I could go out confidently. I always prioritize what my master says.”
“···Do as you please. I’m not in a position to resist anyway. But let me ask you one thing. How did you know I was going to infiltrate here?”
“I don’t know that either. I’m just faithfully carrying out the order you gave me.”
Danae shrugged as if to say why he was asking such a thing.
Pulcher looked bewildered.
“No, it doesn’t make sense. I didn’t even tell my family I was coming here! Even if a bribed slave leaked the plan, it wouldn’t make sense to tell Caesar’s son-in-law instead of Caesar himself. Do you accept this?”
“Why not? It’s not surprising at all. Serving you, I’d expect that kind of behavior. That’s how I feel.”
Pulcher felt like he was seeing a ghost.
What seemed unbelievable to him was, in her view, entirely normal.
He was curious about the identity of Marcus, whom Danae served.
He knew Marcus was a prominent figure—a genius who had made a great contribution to suppressing Catiline’s rebellion and then proposed a financial reform bill. He also had an intense love for the republic.
But judging from the current situation, Marcus seemed to be more than that.
Of course, Danae might be exaggerating her master’s qualities.
There were many cases where slaves idealized their masters beyond reality.
“So, to summarize, this amazing Marcus knew I would infiltrate the Vestal ceremony disguised as a woman. And he sent you to help me avoid capture?”
“Yes. He also said to let you know that he would help with the aftermath if your face was seen by anyone else. As I mentioned before, it’s not free.”
“···Can this really be fixed?”
“There were only a few slaves who saw you, and the Vestal Priestesses didn’t see your face directly. We can deny it easily, but only if you accept our offer.”
“Fine. I’ll trust you. Tell me your offer.”
Pulcher had no choice.
Marcus held the power to decide his fate.
Pulcher had no reason to resent him.
If he thought about it, Marcus was more like a benefactor who saved his life.
If he could get through this safely, he should kneel and thank him.
He would accept whatever Marcus asked of him.
Pulcher was prepared to give up his entire fortune if needed.
He looked into Danae’s eyes, bracing himself for any serious demand.
But when he heard Danae’s demand, his eyes widened in surprise.
“If you are acquitted in the trial, become his client.”
“···And, what else?”
“Huh?”
“There must be something else you want. Tell me everything at once.”
“That’s all.”
It was a much lighter offer than he had anticipated.
Pulcher frowned in disbelief. “Are you really saying that’s all? You’re erasing such a huge debt from me, Claudius Pulcher, and asking for only that?”
“Oh, the most important thing is this: You must never reveal your relationship with him. Officially, you two have no connection. No one should know that you are under his influence. Do you understand?”
“So, you’re trying to use me for some scheme. Fine, that makes sense.”
Pulcher wasn’t a fool, despite his hot temper. If he were just a simpleton, Marcus wouldn’t have bothered with him.
“So, I assume you have no objections.”
“Hold on. You’re ending it with just my answer? Even if I become Marcus’s client, you need to tell me what he’ll ask me to do.”
“I don’t know what Lord Marcus will ask of you, Pulcher. He said that after the trial, you’ll naturally want to seek him out. He’ll explain everything then.”
“Is that so? Well, if I’m acquitted, I’ll have to go and thank him. Since he said I shouldn’t attract attention, I’ll have to go secretly. We can discuss it further then.”
Pulcher nodded to himself and reached a conclusion. “Then I agree to the contract.”
“Wait, how do I get out of here? There might still be people in the mansion.”
“Don’t worry, we’ve prepared everything. Get inside this bundle of clothes. We’ll discreetly load you onto a cart and take you away.”
Pulcher smirked bitterly and followed Danae’s instructions.
He was loaded onto a cart pulled by Crassus’s men and managed to escape the mansion without incident.
It was a chaotic day that Pulcher never wanted to remember.
※※※※
Pulcher returned home safely and acted as if nothing had happened.
However, when news of the Bona Dea festival incident spread, Rome was thrown into turmoil.
Romans were highly sensitive to acts of sacrilege, and women, in particular, were furious. They claimed that all women present would give birth to cursed children because the goddess of childbirth had been insulted.
Marcus had anticipated this reaction and brought Julia home beforehand to avoid her being troubled by such superstitions.
The outrage spread quickly, and citizens demanded to know who had desecrated the sacred ceremony.
The Senate saw this as an opportunity to impeach Caesar, who was the highest religious authority. Led by Cato, the anti-Caesar faction argued that this was a failure of duty by the Pontifex Maximus.
Rumors circulated that the intruder was Claudius Pulcher, who was said to have had an interest in Pompeia, Caesar’s wife.
As soon as the rumor spread, Caesar divorced Pompeia. The citizens took amusement in the irony that Caesar, who was known for taking other men’s women, had his own wife taken from him.
In the meantime, the Vestal Temple named Pulcher as a suspect. Chief Priestess Rikinia demanded that Pulcher provide evidence proving he was not at the scene that day.
Pulcher denied the baseless rumors and maintained his innocence. He asserted that he would prove his innocence in court if necessary and displayed a confident demeanor.
Since the suspect came forward so boldly, the citizens were hesitant to condemn him outright.
The Senate promptly opened a trial aimed at bringing down Caesar. The defendant was clearly Claudius Pulcher, charged with sacrilege for violating the chastity of the Vestal Virgins.
Their strategy was clear.
They wanted to convict Pulcher and make Pompeia an accomplice. By doing so, they could force Caesar to take moral responsibility for his wife's negligence. Even if they couldn’t hold him legally accountable, they could at least pressure him to step down from his position as Pontifex Maximus.
If Pulcher had been highly respected in the Senate, they might have hesitated to use this strategy. However, most senators disliked him, and the Claudius clan, while prestigious, had many enemies. It was well-known how many enemies Caesar had in Rome.
The Senate decided to expedite the trial before Pompey arrived, hoping to use this victory as a stepping stone for further gains. They demanded that all unnecessary procedures be skipped and that a verdict be reached within a single day. They pressured Pulcher to accept this if he was so confident in his innocence.
To everyone's surprise, Pulcher agreed to the expedited process.
Thus, an unprecedented one-day trial took place, drawing crowds eager to witness the unusual outcome.
Cato was the first to speak for the Senate, condemning Pulcher in a hoarse voice.
“What Pulcher did was not a mere sacrilege! He defiled the ceremony presided over by the Vestal Virgins. His filthy desire tainted the sacred event of the Vestal Virgins. This is a blatant attempt to undermine the sanctity of their chastity. Roman law prescribes the death penalty for such offenses. Therefore, Claudius Pulcher must face the consequences for his crime. Additionally, Pompeia, as an accomplice, must be forbidden from remarrying for life and be made to repent. Caesar, the Pontifex Maximus, must also take moral responsibility and step down!”
Some citizens, stirred by Cato’s fervor, called for Pulcher’s immediate execution. However, Pulcher’s side remained calm and collected.
Pulcher’s lawyer firmly denied all the charges.
“Esteemed jurors and citizens, this trial is flawed from the start. Rome has always been vigilant against sacrilege. But sacrilege is judged by the gods, not by us. By taking over the gods’ role, we act arrogantly. Even if the gods are merciful, those who commit sacrilege face social repercussions. Nobles lose elections, and commoners are shunned. Roman law does not provide for sacrilege to be judged in court like this.”
The defense's eloquent speech swayed some citizens, who began to see Pulcher as a victim of an unjust prosecution.
Sensing the shift, the defense team grew more confident.
“The Senate will argue that this is not a typical sacrilege but a malicious act intended to harm the Vestal Virgins' chastity. While such acts warrant severe punishment, the intruder was caught before the ceremony began, during the preparation stage. This opens room for interpretation. Most importantly, there is no conclusive evidence linking Claudius Pulcher to the intrusion. He has asserted he was not at the scene. He should not be in this court at all.”
As the defense’s speech concluded, the citizens were left confused. Pulcher appeared to be the victim of an unjust accusation.
The Senate had anticipated this counterargument and was prepared.
Cato immediately requested the judge to proceed with witness testimony.
The first witness was Rikinia, the chief priestess of Vesta. As she took the stand, the jurors and citizens showed their respect.
Cato, adopting a polite tone, began his questioning.
“Witness, you apprehended an intruder dressed as a woman on the day of the festival. Did the intruder’s appearance match that of Pulcher?”
Rikinia carefully observed Pulcher, who stood confidently. However, his appearance had changed significantly since the incident, as his hairstyle was now different.
Rikinia sighed and shook her head.
“Unfortunately, I can’t give a definite answer,” Rikinia said. “The intruder was wearing makeup, so I didn’t see his face clearly. He looks similar to Pulcher, but it’s possible he was just someone who resembled him.”
Cato didn’t give up and summoned several other witnesses. Pompeia’s slaves, cautious of the repercussions for misstatements, also admitted they couldn’t be sure.
Cato then called Caesar to testify.
“Caesar, you divorced your wife Pompeia immediately after hearing about this incident. Doesn’t that imply you believed she committed a serious crime?”
“Not at all,” Caesar responded with a solemn expression.
“Then why did you divorce her?”
Caesar answered with an air of arrogance, “Caesar’s wife must not even be suspected.”
The citizens laughed at Caesar’s response, finding it hard to believe.
Sensing the awkward atmosphere, the Senate decided not to press Caesar further. Cato cleared his throat and argued that many people believed Pulcher and the intruder looked alike. He asserted that all circumstantial evidence pointed to Pulcher being the intruder.
Pulcher, however, maintained his defense. He claimed he was at his villa far from Rome on the day of the festival and returned two days later. He produced several slaves to corroborate his alibi, though the testimony of the defendant’s slaves was not particularly reliable.
To counter this, some citizens, bribed by Marcus, testified that they had seen Pulcher near his villa. These witnesses were local farmers living near Pulcher’s estate. The testimonies from both sides were evenly matched, but Pulcher’s side seemed more likely to win due to the balance of evidence.
Desperate, the Senate introduced their trump card: Cicero, a former consul and renowned orator, took the stand as a witness. Though he initially intended to stay neutral, he was persuaded by the Senate to testify.
“I believe it is highly likely that the testimony about Pulcher being at his villa is perjury,” Cicero declared. “I saw Pulcher on the morning of the festival. How could he have traveled to his villa in such a short time if he was in Rome that morning?”
Cicero’s testimony shifted the court’s atmosphere dramatically. Pulcher, flustered, accused Cicero of perjury. With conflicting testimonies, the trial came down to a matter of credibility.
The imbalance between Cicero, a respected former consul, and Pulcher’s ordinary witnesses made it difficult for Pulcher to counter effectively. Fearing an unfavorable jury verdict, Pulcher felt increasingly vulnerable but had no viable strategy.
Ultimately, the jury of 56 members rendered their verdict: 40 votes for Pulcher’s innocence and 16 for his guilt. The jurors argued that it was unfair to impose the death penalty based on circumstantial evidence alone.
Acquitted, Pulcher looked around at the enraged senators with confusion. Many were furious, suspecting that Pulcher had bribed the jurors. Although this was a conspiracy theory, it wasn’t taken seriously. The jury selection had been conducted more fairly than ever, and Pulcher only learned who the jurors were on the day of the trial, leaving him little time to influence them.
Pulcher began to suspect that Marcus had orchestrated everything in advance. Marcus had advised him to attend the trial without worry, likely because he was confident of Pulcher’s acquittal. Pulcher realized he owed an immense debt to Marcus, who had supported him in a way far beyond what was historically provided by Caesar and the Crassus clan.
Despite the unexpected support, Pulcher’s desire for revenge and hatred toward the Senate and Cicero remained unchanged. He understood that the Senate had tried to use him as a pawn to pressure both the Claudius clan and Caesar.
Pulcher was the kind of person who felt compelled to repay a favor or a grudge with more than double the effort to feel satisfied.
As soon as the trial concluded, Pulcher secretly approached Marcus. He wanted to express his gratitude for the trial’s outcome and seek Marcus’s guidance on how to exact revenge.
Marcus quickly addressed Pulcher’s request.
“Become a tribune of the plebs? Are you serious about this?” Pulcher asked.
“Yes,” Marcus confirmed. “If you want to exact revenge on the Senate, becoming a consul or holding a higher office would take too long. But if you become a tribune of the plebs, you could start making an impact as soon as next year.”
The power of a tribune of the plebs was nearly as significant as that of a consul. While a tribune lacked military command and the role of Senate head, which were central to the consul’s authority, a tribune still had considerable legislative, judicial, and veto powers.
“Being a tribune of the plebs would allow you to achieve your goals without needing those two consular powers,” Marcus explained. “You’d have the authority to influence legislation and block bills.”
“But I’m from the noble Claudius clan. Only commoners can run for tribune of the plebs,” Pulcher pointed out.
“That can be easily resolved. You can be adopted into a plebeian family. While commoners can become nobles, there’s no law preventing nobles from becoming commoners. It’s perfectly feasible.”
“That sounds outrageous… no, actually, it’s not absurd. But… is it really possible?”
“Absolutely. It’s possible as long as you receive permission from the highest religious authority. And Caesar will gladly grant that permission.”
In fact, this was a strategy that Pulcher and Caesar would use precisely three years later, but Marcus had preempted them.
Pulcher didn’t mind the change. He appreciated not having to spend years devising a plan on his own.
“So if I become a tribune of the plebs, you’ll allow me to act freely?” Pulcher asked.
“Just avoid any actions that might be seen as excessively aggressive. There’s no limit to how many times you can serve as tribune of the plebs, so it’s more strategic to stay in the role and monitor the Senate closely.”
“I understand. I can be somewhat impulsive at times, so if you see me heading in that direction, please intervene. I’ll follow your guidance.”
“Good. When I need a specific bill proposed, you’ll present it in the assembly. Just ensure you never reveal any connection to me. From now on, all communications will be through intermediaries. I’ll also arrange for campaign funds through a merchant of mine, so you’ll need to run for tribune of the plebs every year.”
“Thank you. I will fulfill my duties as tribune of the plebs to the best of my ability, ensuring you don’t regret your assistance.”
Marcus nodded in satisfaction. He had nearly everything he needed to shape the political landscape. Now, he only required one final piece.
On the last day of 62 BC, Pompey, commanding ten legions, arrived at the port of Brundisium to a hero’s welcome from the citizens.