Page 23 of The Tribune Temptation (Roman Heirs #1)
A elius ran through the facts about the man he was going to meet as he strode through the streets. Flavius Libo was a friend of Crispina’s father, which meant his support should be easy to come by. Like Aelius, he’d served in the army, so Aelius planned to drop the mention of his legion early on to establish camaraderie. They’d met at a dinner party a month ago, so they weren’t total strangers, but Aelius didn’t know the man well. He did know the man had a significant farming estate in central Italy, so Aelius planned to test out Crispina’s idea about providing tax breaks to rural landowners for employing free rather than enslaved men.
Libo had suggested meeting at the baths, which suited Aelius. People tended to be more willing to grant favors when they were relaxed and soaking in a hot pool.
Aelius met Libo in the columned entrance to the baths. They clasped arms. “How nice to see you again,” Aelius said to the stocky, gray-haired man. “I trust your family is well?” Libo had a wife and two children.
Libo nodded as they proceeded into the baths. “And how is your esteemed wife?”
“Crispina is very well.” In fact, Crispina had been tired and withdrawn for the past few days, but that was to be expected during this time of the month. “I was speaking with her father the other day and he mentioned you served in the seventh legion. I was in the ninth myself.”
Libo’s face brightened. “Ah, a worthy cohort.”
“The gods know I would have killed for luxuries like this during my service.” Aelius gestured around at their lavish surroundings as they entered the changing rooms. “Even clean hot water felt like a luxury sometimes.”
Libo chuckled. “The mud in Germania still haunts my dreams.”
Aelius joined him in laughter, and soon they were swapping war stories as they sank into a steaming pool.
“Do you miss the army?” Libo asked, immersing himself up to his neck. “The discipline brings a certain peace, does it not?”
Aelius saw his opening to turn the conversation to the topic he really wanted to discuss. “I’m grateful for the things I learned, but I never wanted to be a career soldier. My true interest lies in politics.”
Libo nodded. “Ah, yes, I hear you are mounting a campaign for tribune of the plebs, correct?”
“Indeed. My father-in-law suggested I might find an ally in you. No doubt there are certain things you would like to see passed in the Plebeian Assembly. If I were to become tribune, I would be happy to assist however possible. And I have some ideas that could benefit your interests.”
“Yes…” Libo’s voice took on a note of hesitation. He shifted on the underwater bench, stretching an arm along the edge of the pool. “This is rather awkward.”
Aelius raised an eyebrow. “Have I overstepped?”
“Not at all. It’s just that Publius Veturius Rufus paid me a visit yesterday and had a similar line of questioning.”
“I see,” Aelius murmured. Rufus had met with Libo only yesterday? It was to be expected they’d be chasing the same votes, especially this late in the campaign. But still, the coincidence rankled.
Libo was still talking. “…We have neighboring estates in Baiae, you see, so I have an acquaintance with the young man. He somehow became aware that my wife has been angling to renovate the villa, and recommended several builders and artisans who would offer favorable estimates. Alas, I gave my word I would lend him my support in the upcoming election.”
So you exchanged your political support for a refurbished summer house. No doubt Rufus had paid off the craftsmen to supply Libo with their services at a reduced rate. “How convenient.”
“If I may say, you and Rufus are very similar. You are both very driven, ambitious young men. I know you are competitors now, but if you both attain positions as two of the ten tribunes, as I hope you will, you could find strength in an alliance.”
Aelius summoned his most charming smile to mask his disappointment. “I will keep that in mind.” Mount Olympus would crumble before he would ally himself with Rufus.
Conversation turned to other things. When they had their fill of the baths, Aelius headed home. The interaction still bothered him—not just that Libo had chosen to support Rufus, but that Rufus had somehow managed to secure Libo’s support a mere day before Aelius. It’s just a coincidence , he told himself. But he hadn’t even had a chance to make his case to Libo. What if it happened again? Time was running short.
At home, his mother was teaching Max how to weave in the atrium. Or attempting to teach him, by the look of the tangled threads hanging off the loom. “Good afternoon,” she greeted him as she tugged a knot of yarn apart.
Max stuck his fingers between the loosely woven threads and grinned at him.
“Good afternoon,” Aelius said. “Where is Crispina?”
“Her library,” Gaia replied. “She said she had a headache, and someone was being rather loud.” She gave Max an accusatory but good-natured frown.
Aelius nodded to them and went to the door of Crispina’s library. He tapped on it. “Crispina? May I come in?”
At her acquiescence, he entered and closed the door behind him. Crispina was seated at her reading desk, glancing over a scroll before her.
“You shouldn’t be reading if you have a headache,” he said.
“It distracts me.”
Aelius dropped into a chair opposite her. “Rufus got to Libo before me.”
Her hand twitched where it held the scroll. “I’m sorry.”
“It was more frustrating than it should have been,” Aelius said. “I know it’s only one person, but he controls at least a dozen votes.” He sighed. “I worry…” He shook his head. I worry I can’t do it. I worry I’ll lose again. “If I am not victorious this time, I will not try again.”
“You’ll give up?”
“It’s not giving up.” His voice came out sharper than he intended. “I will have lost two elections in two years. I would be a fool not to take that as a sign. Mama didn’t even want me to run this time. She wants a country estate, a quiet life. Would you like that? A little villa somewhere in the hills?”
She finally raised her gaze from the scroll for a moment before casting her eyes back down. “I could appreciate that.”
Aelius allowed his gaze to run over her. She was so beautiful, even with the shadows that had darkened beneath her eyes in the past few days. “You still have your courses?”
She nodded.
Shame. He longed for the solace he could find in her touch, her warmth. She could make him forget the election, forget Rufus, forget even his own name.
But that was not an option at present, so he rose from his chair and paced. “Perhaps I have been depending too much on patricians who may be influenced one way or another with petty promises. There are still votes to be won from the people themselves. That’s what I did in the last election. People voted for me, even though I was a nobody.”
“Will you go knock on doors all over the city, then?”
“Something like that. A speech in the Forum, I think. Catullus can help spread the word. Given what happened the last time I spoke in the Forum, people will want to come. Perhaps Tuesday.” The new idea bolstered him, chasing away the fear of defeat. He could already picture himself standing before a crowd. Snippets of rhetoric popped into his mind. He would craft a speech that would make people remember his name even without a fistfight.
An odd expression, like a grimace, flickered over Crispina’s face. “I see.”
“Why don’t you retire?” he suggested. “You look weary. I can have dinner brought to you.”
“I’m not an invalid.” Her voice was tight. “But I would prefer to be left alone.”
“Very well.” He dared a quick kiss to her forehead, then withdrew to his own study to draft his speech.
After Aelius left, Crispina sank her head into her hands. She did have a headache, but it wasn’t from her courses. It was from the constant, crushing guilt of betraying her husband.
It’s for Max , she reminded herself, but that didn’t make it any easier. She hadn’t slept properly since the incident with Rufus. She lay awake at night, listening to Aelius’s breathing, wondering when it would all come crashing down around her.
For the first time, she wished he was more like Memmius, who never spoke to her if he could help it. But Aelius trusted her enough to share his thoughts, his hopes, his plans. If he hadn’t talked about his plan to give a speech in the Forum, then she would have nothing to give Rufus. But now she knew, and Rufus was expecting a note from her tomorrow.
With a heavy sigh, she pulled out a double-leafed wax tablet and rubbed away the existing words with the flat end of the stylus. Then she inscribed a brief note. Tuesday. Speech in Forum. She closed the cover, hiding the words from view, and secured a leather cord around it.
She tucked the tablet behind a stack of scrolls on one of her shelves, then tried to return to her reading, wondering if the guilt would ever leave her.