A/NAnything you recognise from Rome belongs to HBO. Caesar, as in life, belongs to himself. This is intended to be a mix of 'The Kalends of February' and what the ancient sources say really occurred on the Ides of March (hence GJC's hair!).
The Die Falls
Part I
Pompeius Magnus' theatre was certainly impressive, mused Gaius Julius Caesar as he ascended the leaf-strewn steps of the en-suite senate chamber, which his late son-in-law had so thoughtfully added to his ostentatious entertainment complex eleven years before. Pompey's curia had proved unexpectedly useful since the Curia Hostilia – hallowed and ancient home of senatorial meetings for centuries – had been burned down during rioting in the year when Caesar defeated Vercingetorix at Alesia. It was also the first permanent theatre ever to be built in Rome; a clever move, that, to combine awing and pleasing the masses with placating the Senate. Caesar smiled slightly; Pompeius had always been a more adept politician than he had appeared: a useful ally and a much-missed adversary. Slain by lesser men in a foreign land full of sand and treachery.
The dictator paused as he reached the top of the marble steps and turned to face his accompanying party of clients, citizens who were bound to him in return for his protection and aid. As the most powerful man in Rome and so the most influential patron, Caesar had had to limit their number this day to avoid completely blocking the roads down which they passed on their way to see him into his last Senate meeting before setting off for the East. He reached up to tuck an errant strand of sparse, fair hair back into place under his laurel wreath, then raised his right hand to indicate his wish to speak.
"My friends, let me first thank you for accompanying me on this day of days. Three days hence I shall leave you in order to take up my sword and general's cloak once more to lead Rome's legions to glory against the Parthians. Too long have they kept the eagles they took from Marcus Crassus and his noble son, who served under my command in Gaul. Rome shall rule in the east as well as the west and civilise them both!" Again Caesar raised a hand to acknowledge the applause and turned to enter. He allowed himself a quick glance at his more noble companions and his secretary Posca, who stood to his right beside his two-dozen lictors bearing rods and axes, the formal escort of the dictator.
Decimus Brutus with his white-blond hair stood out against Marcus Antonius and Publius Cornelius Dolabella, the dark consul and consul-designate respectively. All three men were close associates of Caesar. Decimus and Antonius had been on his staff in Gaul, good officers both. Dolabella was a more recent acquisition – and a more surprising one, given that he had been married to Cicero's daughter until her death the previous February and had been an officer of Pompey's until Pharsalus. He would replace Caesar as consul when Caesar departed for Parthia, even though Antonius had voiced his objections to that choice both loudly and repeatedly. Caesar reflected that Antonius was possibly right to do so, but the younger man could not be left unimpeded while Caesar was away – talented soldier though he was, Antonius was far too likely to abuse his consular power and wreck the peace that Caesar had spent the last few years endeavouring to re-establish. It was also crucial that Caesar not seem deliberately to be keeping eligible noblemen out of office, even if they did have dubious past connections.
"Where is Lucius Vorenus?" Caesar asked Posca as they passed through the portico. The slave was juggling the assortment of scrappy bits of parchment and weightier scrolls that had been handed to his master as he walked through the city. Damn Vorenus. He had been promoted to the Senate purely as a political expedient and to act as Caesar's unofficial and unwitting bodyguard. What use was he if he disappeared at key moments? Never mind. Caesar had no intention of attending this meeting for any longer than was absolutely necessary: there was much still to do before he could leave Rome at least reasonably confident that the city wouldn't descend into chaos the moment he passed through the Porta Capena.
Caesar barely noticed Antonius being drawn aside by Gaius Trebonius, who should really have been on his way to govern the province of Asia by now. Brash, abrupt Antonius was rarely any use in a debate in any case and had definitely already been drinking by the smell of him. Another reason to keep Dolabella firmly in place. Gaius Caesar clutched the folds of his toga more closely around his left arm and strode into the dim interior of the meeting chamber, Posca trotting behind him.