The Eagle in the Dovecote Read online

  ‘Seemed so, Menenius?’ Virgilia asked, perturbed by his doubtful tone.

  He shrugged. ‘The people can say one thing and do another. I have seen it often.’

  ‘Not this time,’ Volumnia said decisively. ‘They have seen Caius’s scars and he is worthy of their voices.’ She put her hand on Caius’s arm. ‘All will be well.’

  ‘I have no doubt. And this time, dear mother,’ he said, taking her hand and putting his lips to it, ‘you are coming with me. Let Menenius shake his head at us all he wants.’

  Menenius held up his hands. ‘No, no, this time, I agree,’ he protested. ‘It is fitting that she does, and you too, Virgilia, though I suggest Little Caius remains here.’

  His suggestion was agreed upon, and with Volumnia and Virgilia immediately behind him, Caius once more left the domus to process to the forum. His clients and followers, Cominius among them, cheered him on, and it was with a sense of assurance that Caius climbed the steps to the rostra and held his hands up for the people’s attention.

  ‘People of Rome,’ he began, deliberately ignoring Menenius’s suggestion that he call them good, ‘I come to receive your voices for election to the consulship. As tradition demands, I have shown you my wounds obtained in service to Rome and you have been satisfied. So I ask, do I have your voices?’

  There were a few murmurs in response to this question, but, oddly, not one man raised his voice in support of Caius.

  Caius frowned, perplexed. ‘Why do you not speak?’ he demanded.

  Menenius recognised irritation in Caius’s voice and hurriedly moved to stand by him. ‘Good people,’ he said, holding out his arms to quieten the disgruntled murmurs. ‘Caius Marcius Coriolanus asks for your voices and you greet him with silence. Speak now, I beg of you.’

  ‘Do not beg, Menenius,’ Caius ordered. ‘I forbid it.’

  ‘We’ll not elect him,’ someone shouted.

  ‘Why will you not?’ Menenius asked.

  A smiling Sicinius stepped out of the crowd and joined Menenius on the steps. The crowd hushed. ‘Because, Menenius Agrippa, the people are not fools. They see what Caius Marcius is.’

  ‘What?’ Caius sneered at him. ‘What am I?’

  ‘A proud man,’ Sicinius replied, raising his chin defiantly at Caius. ‘You come with all these,’ he indicated Caius’s followers, ‘as if you were a very king. But we have had enough of kings in Rome. This is no place for proud men who think they can do without the will of the people.’

  ‘I spit on the people,’ Caius scoffed, turning his back on Sicinius.

  ‘Ah,’ Sicinius crowed, ‘now we see what the great Coriolanus thinks of the people of Rome. Nothing, that’s what he thinks. He would see all of you slaughtered in his unnecessary wars.’

  ‘Lies,’ Menenius cried. ‘Marcius is a man who has given his very lifeblood for the people of Rome. He has been ready to lay down his life to protect you all and you would call him a... a…’. He fumbled for the word he wanted.

  ‘A traitor!’ Sicinius shouted. ‘That is what we would call him, for that is what a man is who puts his own honour before that of his country.’

  ‘You dare to call me traitor, you dog,’ Caius roared and made a grab for Sicinius.

  Menenius moved to stand between them and felt the full force of Caius’s might. He called to Cominius for help and Cominius hurried up the steps to the struggling pair. Together, they managed to restrain Caius and force him down from the rostra, pushing their way through the crowd that was growing ever more belligerent.

  ‘Stop this, Caius,’ Menenius yelled in Caius’s ear as they reached the edge of the forum.

  ‘I’ll kill that bastard,’ Caius shouted.

  ‘Think of your mother, your wife,’ he begged and felt the struggle leave Caius’s body.

  ‘Where are they?’ Caius asked.

  ‘In the crowd somewhere,’ Cominius replied, apprehensively letting go of Caius and waiting to see if he would stay.

  ‘I must go to them,’ Caius said and started back towards the forum. Menenius and Cominius grabbed hold of him again.

  `No,’ Menenius ordered. ‘Cominius will go. It’ll be safer for all of us, Caius.’

  ‘I won’t leave them,’ Caius protested.

  ‘Cominius, go,’ Menenius roared, and Cominius disappeared into the crowd. Menenius gave Caius a shove in the other direction. ‘You will do as I tell you, Caius. Come.’ He gave him another push and Caius moved, his feet moving forward but his eyes cast backwards over his shoulder.

  ‘I’ll murder anyone who puts a hand on my mother,’ Caius swore.

  Menenius didn’t answer, just kept pushing him forward until they reached the domus. It was an extremely uncomfortable and anxious half hour before Cominius arrived with Volumnia and Virgilia. Both were unharmed but very shaken.

  Caius took his mother to his breast and held out an arm to Virgilia. ‘You’re safe now,’ he said, kissing first one woman’s temple, then the other’s.

  ‘My poor boy,’ Volumnia said crying. ‘How those dogs treated you.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘But they’ll pay. You’ll see.’

  ‘You won’t be elected consul, Marcius,’ Cominius said, standing by the door, holding it open an inch and peering out to make sure they had not been followed. Satisfied they had not, he closed the door.

  ‘To Hades with the consulship,’ Caius snarled. ‘I never wanted it.’

  Volumnia broke away from him. ‘I made you do it,’ she sniffed. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘You’re not to blame,’ he assured her.

  ‘It was the tribunes,’ Cominius told them grimly. ‘They stirred up the people against you as soon as you left the forum after showing your scars.’

  ‘Why did you not stop them?’ Volumnia yelled at Menenius.

  ‘Me?’ Menenius said, astonished.

  ‘You made the tribunes,’ she cried. ‘You should be able to control your creatures.’

  ‘Volumnia, my dear—’

  ‘No more of that, you wretch,’ she said, slapping him away from her. ‘You saw what those beasts did to my boy. And it’s all your fault. Go, get out. I won’t have you near me.’

  No one defended him. Caius stared at Menenius and there was contempt in his eyes. Virgilia was weeping and Cominius opened the door for Menenius to leave.

  ‘I will go,’ Menenius said quietly. ‘But I am not to blame for this, Volumnia, and I hope you will come to realise that. I am, and always have been, a friend to you and Caius.’ He strode out without another word.

  ‘Well,’ Cominius said as he closed the door. ‘I think we all need a cup or three of wine, don’t you?’

  23

  It had been an unpleasant month, Menenius reflected as he took his seat in the Senate house. His dismissal from the Marcius domus had been extremely hurtful — had he not done all he could to support and protect Caius and his family? — and a resentment at his treatment had developed that quickly overwhelmed his sorrow. He made no entreaties to be forgiven during the week that followed, all the time wondering if Caius or Volumnia would regret their actions and make an approach to him. But no, he should have known better. Neither Volumnia nor Caius were in the habit of apologising and he shouldn’t expect them to make an exception for him.

  Menenius was not a man to bear a grudge for long, and missing their company, had sent his slave with four amphorae of his finest wine from his country estate as a gift to the Marcius domus. He had waited anxiously while the slave went on his mission, half expecting to have his present refused. But the slave returned empty-handed and Menenius was content. The next day he sent a haunch of boar, and the day after, a letter asking if he could call.

  Volumnia replied she and Caius would be happy to receive Menenius. It was a cool response but Menenius had expected nothing more. He dressed carefully and made the visit. It was awkward at first. Caius was unbending, Volumnia civil and aloof. Only Virgilia seemed warm and he was grateful to her. He paid a visit each day after that
and gradually, the ice had thawed until now there was almost no memory of that dreadful day in the forum when Caius had been refused the consulship.

  And yet, Menenius could see that the humiliation had wounded Caius deeply. It was nothing Caius said, but behind his eyes, Menenius saw that the incident had left its mark. When Menenius dared to talk politics, Caius’s jaw would tighten and he would lean back on the couch as if wanting to take no part in the conversation. Menenius was not displeased. In his opinion, Caius was not suited to politics and it was better he not pursue a political career, for everybody’s sake.

  But he should have know the calm wouldn’t last, that Caius was brooding over his humiliation and was just waiting for the right moment to have his revenge. The right moment came soon enough.

  Yet another shipment of free grain arrived at the port, this time a gift from Gelo of Syracuse. Gelo’s envoys told the Senate the grain was offered as homage. If accepted, the Romans would agree that they would not attempt to conquer Gelo and leave Syracuse alone. It was a good idea, Menenius supposed, to try and prevent war in this way, or at least, it would be, if free grain didn’t always seem to cause problems between the plebs and the patricians. As before, the patricians wanted to keep the grain for themselves. The plebs wanted it shared out among the populace. Another row was brewing and Caius intended to take full advantage.

  Menenius had wondered why Caius said he would accompany him to the Senate house that morning. It was unusual, for Caius had been intent on staying away from the forum ever since his nomination had been refused. But as he made himself ready, Virgilia had whispered to Menenius that Caius intended to make a speech about the grain. Menenius had cringed but said nothing. He didn’t want to risk their friendship again, but it wasn’t without apprehension that Menenius watched Caius get to his feet in the Senate house.

  ‘It is my opinion,’ Caius began in a loud, clear voice, ‘that the tribunes have been granted too many rights and allowed too great a freedom to speak against the patricians and this house. Now, they are demanding the grain from Syracuse be given over entirely to the plebs. Who do these men think they are that they can dictate to us? This grain was gifted to the Senate, not the people, as part of a political understanding between the patricians and Gelo. The plebs have nothing to do with this gift and indeed, bear no entitlement to any such future gifts. The plebs, roused by the tribunes, are continually challenging the Senate’s authority, yet they demonstrate no obedience or duty towards Rome. They have refused to fight when called upon to defend our country against our enemies. It has been left to us, the patricians, to defend Rome and increase our territories, risking our lives at each step. The plebs have done nothing and still they complain. The Senate heeds their complaints and threats out of fear, but I tell you, we need not fear these dogs. I tell you too that if the Senate gives in to their demands, as I know some of you think we should do,’ Caius paused to glare at a few men, who coloured and looked away, ‘then we are in great danger of making the plebs even more discontented and filling them with the belief that they need only threaten to get what they want. If you grant them the right to this grain, they will not regard this as generosity on your part. They will conclude you gave them the grain because you are afraid not to give it to them. They will become ever more disobedient and ready to challenge us at every step. To be brief with you, I say that to give into the tribunes’ demand and hand over this grain to the plebs will be sheer madness. I will go further and say the office of tribune should be abolished with immediate effect. The tribunes are causing this discontent, setting plebs against patricians and dividing Rome. I tell you, and you would do well to listen to me, that Rome will never be whole while the tribunes are allowed to hold office.’

  Despite his misgivings, Menenius was impressed. He had not expected Caius to make such a long speech nor one so eloquent. True, his speech had been devoid of Senate etiquette, but it had been powerful and had certainly made an impression on his listeners. Perhaps Caius was more suited to politics than he had believed.

  But would they heed Caius, Menenius wondered, and abolish the tribunes? It was a dangerous step to take but Menenius had to admit the tribunes had made life very difficult for the Senate. The speaker of the house rose and declared the matter should be discussed after a short recess. The Senate broke up.

  Menenius made his way to Caius. ‘Well done,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you,’ Caius replied tightly. ‘It needed saying. I only hope the Senate heeds me and does away with these wretched tribunes. I daresay you disagree.’

  ‘No,’ Menenius shook his head. ‘I cannot disagree with you. The tribunes have caused a great deal of trouble.’

  ‘You made them,’ Caius said.

  ‘Thank you for reminding me,’ Menenius sniffed, watching the senators file out of the doors. There was a sudden noise. ‘What’s that?’

  He and Caius hurried outside. The senators had been prevented from leaving; Sicinius and Junius were standing on the Senate house steps, surrounded by more than twenty men.

  ‘What do you mean by this?’ Menenius demanded.

  ‘We know what Marcius has said,’ Sicinius returned loudly. ‘We know he wants the Senate to abolish the office of tribune.’

  How did they know? Menenius wondered. The doors had been closed. Someone inside must have told them of Caius’s speech.

  ‘I don’t deny it,’ Caius yelled back before Menenius could restrain him. ‘I say Rome would be a deal better off if the tribunes were put in a sack and thrown in the Tiber.’

  Sicinius turned to the people. ‘You see?’ he called, smiling and nodding in vindication. ‘This is what Caius Marcius thinks of you. Nothing. He wants you to have no say in Rome. I stand here and I say now that Caius Marcius is an enemy to the people of Rome.’ He turned back to the senators. ‘We, the tribunes, demand Caius Marcius be made to answer this charge. We, the tribunes, the voice of the people, demand Caius Marcius give answer as to whether he has actively incited the Senate to set aside the constitution of Rome and thereby abolish all the powers of the people.’

  This couldn’t be happening, Menenius thought as he watched Sicinius accept the cheers and applause of the plebs. He glanced at the senators, who each seemed to have one wary eye on the crowd and one on each other. They were talking urgently and gesturing for the Senate speaker to calm the crowd.

  The speaker stepped forward nervously. ‘We will retire into the Senate house and discuss this,’ he declared.

  ‘In our presence,’ Sicinius insisted.

  The speaker hesitated, but then nodded. The senators turned back towards the Senate house doors.

  ‘Come,’ Menenius hissed, grabbing hold of Caius’s elbow.

  ‘Come where?’ Caius asked.

  ‘Home.’

  ‘I’m not going home. This charge is nonsense and I’ll tell them they’re all fools to countenance it.’ He made a move towards the doors.

  ‘It’s bad enough without you making it worse, Caius,’ Menenius said, refusing to relinquish his hold.

  ‘Who do you think you are to tell me to come away?’ Caius snarled. ‘I’m not a child, old man.’

  This was too much. Menenius glared at Caius. ‘I really don’t know how much more of your insolence I can stomach, Caius.’

  ‘Then do not stomach it. Be gone.’

  ‘I will ask you one last time, Caius. For your mother’s sake, leave this place and go home. This crowd can easily become a mob and I will not have Rome turn against itself. The matter will be discussed without you and better it be so. Your mother would wish you home.’

  Menenius knew the invocation of his mother’s desire would be the greatest spur to Caius’s intent. He watched as Caius glanced at the Senate house, then towards the crowd.

  ‘I will go home,’ he said after a long moment, ‘because it is what I wish, not because you tell me I must.’

  ‘To tell truth, Caius,’ Menenius growled, ‘I really don’t care why you come as long as you do. Now, move
.’

  Volumnia stood behind Caius, rubbing his shoulders with enthusiasm. ‘How dare the tribunes make this charge!’

  Menenius and Caius had reached the domus with difficulty. The crowd were reluctant to allow Caius to leave and there had been several scuffles, mostly pushing and shoving, before he and Menenius were able to reach the street off the forum that would lead them home. The women had been waiting anxiously and Volumnia demanded their news as soon as they had crossed the threshold.

  ‘They thought they had good reason to accuse him when they heard what Caius had said,’ Menenius said.

  ‘I made that speech today, Menenius,’ Caius said proudly, ‘because the Senate needs to realise what fools they have been in allowing the tribunes to flourish. You said you agreed with me.’

  ‘I do. I just wish it had not come to this.’

  Volumnia took a seat and gestured for Menenius to take another. ‘Tell us what this charge against Caius means.’

  Menenius sat and took a deep breath. ‘If successful, I suppose there may be a fine levied by the Senate.’

  ‘Is that all?’ Virgilia asked, relief evident in her voice.

  Menenius smiled at her. ‘Caius has been too useful to the Senate for anything more dire. They will not want to upset him, though they will, I think, need to make a token gesture towards the tribunes’ accusation.’

  ‘Those blasted tribunes,’ Volumnia spat. ‘They are all your fault, Menenius.’

  ‘Now, Mother, let’s not start blaming Menenius again,’ Caius said. ‘He knows he made a mistake there.’

  Menenius resisted the urge to slap Caius’s face at these words. It was infuriating to be spoken of in such a way by the boy he had helped raise, but he knew to show anger now would not help the situation. So, he said nothing, though inwardly he seethed.

  Volumnia called for some food and wine to be brought from the kitchen and they occupied a rather tense half hour in eating and drinking, mostly in silence. Then a message arrived from the Senate. The slave handed the papyrus to Caius and left.