If You Can Keep It
A Short Fantasy Novel
If you haven’t read Chapters I and II, you can do so here.
Chapter III
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Catus repeated when Julia didn’t answer. He refused to acknowledge that this was a futile thing to say at this point.
She glanced over at him. “And what are you going to do about it?” she asked. “My son, Iulius, is still too young to wear the toga virilis. Until he is old enough to represent our family in the Senate, I will continue to attend in his place to observe and report back to him.”
Julia’s husband had died seven years ago. Shortly thereafter, she had begun attending Senate debates, ostensibly in place of her five-year-old son, who would one day inherit his father’s seat. Catus had been away on business at the time, and none of the other senators had objected. When he returned and lodged an objection – for women were not allowed in the Senate chamber – she had petitioned to be allowed to remain in the chamber, to come and go as she wished so long as she neither spoke nor voted. Although both law and custom were against her, her petition had been granted.
For a year, she had sat in the chamber quietly, listening to her late husband’s friends and colleagues, giving little indication that she had a position on any proposed legislation. Then one day, during a debate over a proposal to delegate more of the Senate’s power to the tribunes, she spoke up. She never asked to be recognized, nor did she otherwise give indication that there was anything untoward about a woman speaking in the Senate. She simply began speaking, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and she spoke in honor of her late husband, who she said would not have countenanced such a measure undermining the power of the august body in which they sat. Furthermore, he would be rolling in his grave at the prospect of the Senate giving more power to the tribunes who already held more authority over public affairs than they should have.
Catus spoke next. He began his speech by reminding the chamber that women were not allowed to be in the Senate chamber, let alone speak, and that one of the conditions to which Julia had agreed if she was going to watch the proceedings was that she not speak. But, otherwise, she was quite right. The proposal would continue the worrisome trend of the Senate voluntarily giving up power by delegating more and more of it to the people’s tribunes, where it might more readily be abused.
From that day forward, Julia and Catus had had something of an uneasy alliance – which neither of them acknowledged. Catus continued to insist that she should not be there, and reminded her at every turn that he had voted against allowing her to remain in the chamber. She reminded him that his colleagues seemed to have forgotten the matter, or stopped caring, and that the parliamentarian wasn’t going to have her removed. Although she could not vote, she continued speaking and she could reliably be counted upon to uphold the positions of her late husband. He had been Catus’s friend and one of Catus’s few allies in the Senate.
“I could have the guards remove you,” said Catus, when Julia asked what he was going to do about her entrance into the Senate.
“The guards like me better than they like you,” said Julia. “They’re not going to do anything. Your colleagues haven’t kicked me out in seven years and they aren’t going to start today.”
Catus frowned, but the parliamentarian rapped his gavel before he’d had time to formulate a new objection.
“Is there anyone else wishing to speak in favor of the proposed measure? Or anyone opposed?” asked the parliamentarian.
Julia stood up. She didn’t wait for the parliamentarian to acknowledge her, because she knew he wouldn’t. He also wouldn’t prevent her from speaking.
“The execrable measure,” she began, “would have my late husband turning in his grave. If Uiria is still a republic by the time my son comes of age, it will be because brave citizens refused to stand for this nonsensical measure, which would make a farce of the law.”
There was some muttering from the crowd of senators. Perhaps they would finally throw her out this time. She ignored the mutters and went on.
“Does anyone doubt that the minute this law is passed it will be abused by the worst actors to convict innocent men on false charges in order to free up their offices for new occupants? Does anyone doubt that it will be used to purge the judiciary of the last honest men to oversee trials? Already there are men scheming to make false accusations the minute this body gives them license. If an accusation is enough to convict, good men will be purged by false accusations and only the calumnious will survive.”
There was more muttering. Senator Tellius made as if to speak. Catus noticed his friend Regus sitting next to Tellius. Regus was listening to the other senator and frowning. Catus remembered that Regus had left for Yarthia not long after Julia had begun coming to the Senate. All during that year that she’d sat silent in the Senate chamber, he’d been preparing to leave. And given that most of that period was the customary period of mourning for the wife of a senator, he would have considered her presence in the chamber merely a deference to her grief. Regus had not heard Julia speak on the floor before. He looked confused. He now stood.
“It has been many years that I have been away,” he began, “and I remember that when I left the good Julia Quirinius Faustulus was in mourning for the death of her husband, whom we remember fondly and for whom I have nothing but respect. Senator Faustulus was a good man and a credit to this august body. However, I am surprised to find upon my return this good woman, for whom I have nothing but sympathy and respect, speaking here in the Senate chamber. I am unaware of any change in the rules during the time I have been away to permit a woman to speak. It was understandable to permit her to observe here while she was still in mourning. And as her son is not yet old enough to wear the toga virilis and assume his late father’s place here, she should be the first to be informed of every decision made in this chamber. But I confess myself more than a little surprised to find her now speaking here, against all custom and tradition. Julia, my friend, I mean you no ill will. It has been a long journey and I am sure that much has changed while I am away. If I am wrong and the rules have been changed, please forgive me.”
He bowed in her direction and nodded to the parliamentarian, indicating that he yielded the floor. The parliamentarian pursed his lips. He had nodded along to what Regus said, and now it was evident he considered this an opportune time to reassert the rule of custom. Catus’s face hardened as he realized what was happening. For the first time, the parliamentarian asked Julia directly to leave. He instructed the guards to escort her out. She gave Regus a withering look, glanced at Catus, but knew he would not make a move to come to her aid.
“I can escort myself out,” she said to the guards. She nodded respectfully to the parliamentarian, then turned and walked out of the chamber with her head held high.
They voted within minutes of her departure. The new law passed. Catus was joined by a handful of senators, but the overwhelming majority voted yea. Catus doubted a majority supported the changes. But they weren’t willing to oppose them, and that was enough.
Chapter IV
The day after the new law was passed, Gaius Flavius Cornelius introduced into the Senate record allegations of corruption against Regus. Cornelius called for an investigation and a trial, to uncover the truth behind the rumors emanating from Yarthia. Regus gave a short speech in his defense, saying that there were no such rumors and that any such rumors had been invented by Gaius Flavius Cornelius. He insisted upon his honor and innocence and said that he was assured the trial would find the allegations meritless and would clear his name.
Afterwards, he went to the small office which Catus occupied in the bowels of the senate building. Catus had said nothing during the morning’s session, but his face had been grave the entire time, and he’d shaken his head several times during Cornelius’s speech.
“Catus, my friend,” Regus began as soon as he had closed the door behind him. “I want to allay any suspicions you might have. The allegations against me are false. I have done nothing wrong, but have always put the interests of the Republic and her citizens above my own.”
Catus waved a hand. “I know they’re false,” he said. “Gaius Flavius Cornelius is known to be a dishonest man. Besides, he has had a personal dislike of you since your first days in the Senate. In an earlier day, perhaps you would have challenged him to a duel.”
“He is my chief rival, that is true.”
Catus gave his friend a hard look. “Do you see now that I was right?” he asked.
Regus’s agitated face broke into a weary smile. “There was truth to what you said about the potential for the unscrupulous to abuse the new law,” he said. “Still, on the whole, I remain convinced it will prove more beneficial than not. I am an honorable man and my name will be cleared.”
“I generally believe that people reap the consequences of their actions,” said Catus. “And it could certainly be said that you contributed to the circumstances which have given rise to your present misfortune. However, the charges are false and therefore I will do everything in my power to have your name cleared. I will protest this – and any such similar abrogation of the rule of law – as firmly as I can. I am prepared to speak in your defense at the trial, should you want me to do so. You are my friend, and I will stand by you. These charges are a discredit to our republic, and I will stand for the republic.”
“Thank you,” said Regus. “Perhaps I shouldn’t ask, but I feel compelled even though I know you will say no. Would you like to join Catalina and I at the Circus Ionia today? I know you don’t like chariot racing, but the Blues will beat the Whites today, I am sure of it.”
“I will not.”
“I know you disapprove, but you are – by virtue of the neighborhood in which you live – represented by the Blues.”
Catus frowned. “I am not represented by any chariot driver,” he said. “It is a useless exercise, this dividing of the city into seven factions represented by seven colors. It is an empty nod to the tendency of human beings everywhere to divide themselves into tribes on the basis of little more than proximity. Indeed, we even call them the tribes. I will not go to the chariot races. Next thing I know, you’ll be wanting me to gamble upon them.”
Regus recoiled as though his honor had been wounded, but he was smiling and he laughed when he said, “You know that I would not gamble upon the races.”
“Of course not,” said Catus. “But you will not get me to attend them, either way.”
He got up to go. Catus nodded to him and returned to the books piled on his desk. Regus paused halfway through the doorway and turned back.
“Still,” he said, “I’m very upset.”
“Understandably so. I am sorry for you.”
“I’m planning to introduce allegations of corruption into the Senate record against Caius Flavius Cornelius during tomorrow’s session.”
Catus looked up sharply. His face darkened.
“I don’t have any evidence to go on,” said Regus, “but I’m sure he must have done something untoward at some point. Besides, I want to teach him a lesson – that this new law should not be used for frivolous investigations against rivals.”
“Don’t do this,” said Catus.
“I was hoping you would support me.”
“You are asking something I cannot do.”
“I was hoping I could count on your friendship.”
Catus stared at his friend silently for a very long time. Then he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, there was sadness in them.
“As your friend,” he said, “I ask you not to do this. It will not end well. Not for you, and not for the Republic.”
Regus stepped back into the room. “Then you won’t support me?” he asked. He seemed genuinely surprised, which puzzled Catus since he hadn’t thought he’d ever given an indication that he would support false charges – even against a shameless rival.
“No. I will not support such a measure. By all means, use whatever means you have to find any evidence you can about Cornelius. If he has indeed engaged in crimes against the Republic, I will support bringing charges against him and I will support his removal from the Senate and his conviction in court. But if you have no evidence, not even any suspicion of any such crimes, I will not support any charges.”
“I am sure he has broken a law,” said Regus.
“Which law?”
“That I do not know.”
“Come back to me,” said Catus, “when you have found out.” He returned to his books.
Regus cocked his head. He looked at Catus as if he were seeing him in a new light. “Very well, then,” he said. And he departed for the Circus Ionia.
Read Chapters V and VI.
"When he opened them again, there was sadness in them." Very poignant line!