Marching With Caesar-Final Campaign, page 64
"Really?" Piso asked in surprise. "You had several conversations with the Prefect."
"I didn't say several," Lucullus shot back, and Piso held up a hand in apology.
"Forgive me, Tribune," Piso replied. "But it would be accurate that you had more than one conversation?"
"Yes."
Piso seemed to consider that, then shook his head.
"For some reason, that doesn't seem right," he said. Looking down at the table, he moved a couple of wax tablets aside before opening one. "Ah, here it is." Piso held up the tablet so that the Tribunal could see it clearly.
"This is the transcript of Tribune Lucullus' statement, when he accused Camp Prefect Pullus of knowingly aiding Marcus Primus. This is part of the official evidence."
Not content with showing them, Piso strode over and held the open tablet in turn before each Tribune, finishing with the Senior Tribune, who nodded his head in acknowledgement that he had seen the tablet before. Or so I assumed, anyway. Once finished, Piso turned and strode back to our table, and when our eyes met, he gave me a wink. That, I believe now, is when I knew that I would emerge from this victorious. Perhaps that is colored by hindsight, but it seems that way to me. Piso wheeled on Lucullus, still holding the tablet.
"Tribune, I'm sorry, but there is a discrepancy in your testimony."
Lucullus suddenly sat upright, for the first time staring in at least my general direction.
"What are you talking about?"
Piso looked down at the tablet, as if he was reading from it, but I was sure this was artifice.
"In your original written statement, you said that you had one, and only one, conversation with Prefect Pullus. Yet, today, you said that you talked with him more than once." Piso shook his head as he looked directly at Lucullus. "That is a problem."
Lucullus' head swiveled to look at Sulpicianus who, it must be said, had returned to his mining expedition and only became aware that all eyes were on him when the Senior Tribune cleared his throat, very loudly. Sitting up, it was another time I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing as his head turned this way and that as he tried to understand what was happening.
"Tribune Sulpicianus." Piso addressed his adversary in a tone that was almost gentle. "We seem to have a dispute about a key point of testimony. If, that is," he turned back to Lucullus, "you are standing by your statement you made this morning, that you had more than one conversation with the Prefect about this matter."
Lucullus' expression reminded me of the rats we had trapped during the siege of Avaricum to eat, an animal with nowhere to go and somehow understanding their time is at an end.
"Yes, I am," he replied stubbornly. "I distinctly remember it."
"Then why," asked Piso, "in your original statement, did you very specifically say that you had only one conversation with Prefect Pullus?
"That's not true," Lucullus protested, still looking at Sulpicianus, who was just beginning to understand the scope of the calamity. "I know I mentioned that we had talked more than once when I was first questioned!"
Piso looked to the Senior Tribune now.
"There's a simple way to resolve this," he told the Senior Tribune. "What I have here is a copy. Tribune Sulpicianus is in possession of the original. I suggest that we compare the two and determine who is correct."
This was so eminently reasonable that it did not take the Senior Tribune, who was beginning to look as if he wanted to be anywhere else but here, to agree.
"Tribune Sulpicianus," he called out. "Please produce the original statement of Tribune Lucullus."
"Of course," Sulpicianus responded, even as he began rummaging through the pile of scrolls sitting on his desk.
As I watched, I saw his movements grow increasingly frantic, until scrolls were flying in every direction as he opened each one, scanned it, then tossed it aside. Exhausting the supply on his desk, he spun around, snapping at his now-terrified slave to open the pouch that had evidently carried the state's case to the Praetorium. Pawing through it, more scrolls were examined, then sent flying through the air until, finally, Sulpicianus was left staring down into the pouch.
The Senior Tribune cleared his throat again; I was learning this was his preferred method getting the attention of people in the room.
"Tribune," he asked. "Is there a problem? Can you produce the original statement of Tribune Lucullus?"
Even from where I was seated, I could see Sulpicianus swallow hard, but I will give him that his voice was strong when he answered, "Senior Tribune, it appears that we have...misplaced the original statement."
"Misplaced?" I do not know if the disbelief on the part of the Senior Tribune was feigned, but I suspect that it was genuine. "How, by Jupiter, do you misplace something as important as the critical piece of evidence in the state's case against the Prefect?"
"I don't know," Sulpicianus replied, clearly miserable. "If I might ask for a brief recess, I could..."
"No!" Piso interjected sharply. "Prolonging this ordeal would be grossly unjust to the Prefect! I'm afraid that I must vigorously protest if the Senior Tribune would consider this request seriously! I..."
The Senior Tribune cut him off with a wave of his hand, saying wearily, "Save your breath Piso. I'm not going to grant the request for a recess, not when you had all this time to prepare. Really," he said severely to the prosecuting Tribune, "this does not reflect well on any of us, Sulpicianus. We've been entrusted with a very heavy duty, and to think that something as important as that scroll could be lost? That is not something that needs to be known outside the confines of this room." To emphasize his point, he shook his head as he finished, "No, this will end today."
"Senior Tribune, in light of the fact that the prosecutor can't produce the original statement of Tribune Lucullus, and given that there is a discrepancy between the official copy that I have," he again made a point to wave the tablet, "and the testimony that Tribune Lucullus gave earlier today, I request that his statement be disregarded by the Tribunal, and that it not be allowed to be entered into the record at all."
"Now that," the Senior Tribune responded, "is extreme. At least, that last part about it not being admitted at all. However, I will say that the fact that there is a discrepancy, which," he turned to glower at Lucullus, "I distinctly remember as being odd, given your original statement, I will say that the testimony of Tribune Lucullus is to be considered suspect, and I direct my fellow members of the Tribunal to keep that in mind."
From my viewpoint, that was a complete victory, but clearly Piso did not see it that way, because he looked anything but pleased.
Regardless, he inclined his head as he said, "I understand, and I thank the Senior Tribune for acknowledging as fact what I was going to prove, that the testimony of Tribune Lucullus is...suspect, at the very least."
Lucullus got to his feet, his anger at the slur on his honor, no matter how much it was deserved, overruling his sense of caution.
"Now see here, Piso," he said loudly. "I won't stand here and be..."
"I have no more questions for the Tribune Lucullus, Senior Tribune," Piso interjected. "So I ask that he be dismissed from his testimony."
"Agreed," the Senior Tribune responded immediately. "You are dismissed, Tribune Lucullus."
While he looked disposed to argue, Lucullus finally gave a simple nod, then stalked off to take his seat next to his cousin. Who, I noted idly, appeared to be the least affected of all of us, his face betraying no emotion at all.
Sitting back, I felt the first blossoming of relief filling my chest. Glancing over at Diocles, I saw him with a similar look on his face. However, when I turned to Scribonius, my heart sank at the sight of that damnable frown on his face.
"What?" I am afraid I snapped this, irritated that he did not share in my joy.
"Nothing," he said, too quickly.
I knew him better than this, and I refused to turn my gaze away, until he heaved a huge sigh.
"Fine," he relented. "This is very, very good. But I don't know if it's enough."
For an answer, I looked over at Piso. Contrary to what I expected, his expression was closer to that of Scribonius than to mine.
"As your friend says, it's very, very good," he said, so carefully that I felt the leaden ball that had finally started dissipating come surging back. "But I don't know that it's enough."
Without waiting for any more discourse, Piso suddenly turned back to the Senior Tribune who, at that very moment, had opened his mouth to demand the proceedings continue apace.
"Senior Tribune," Piso called out. "May I have a brief moment to confer with the Prefect?"
"That's not fair." I suppose I should not have been surprised that this did not come from Sulpicianus but from Lucullus, but I was, as Sulpicianus only added his feeble support, echoing Lucullus' sentiment.
"I'm not asking for a recess," Piso shot back. "I'm just asking for a moment to confer with the Prefect on something."
Although it was clear that he did not like the idea, the Senior Tribune relented.
"I suppose that is permissible," he allowed. "But just for a moment."
He stared down at Piso. I suppose it was natural that our eyes met, and I met his gaze, which seemed to unsettle him. I will say that I had been singularly unimpressed with the Senior Tribune to this point, but I must also admit that I have a bias against men who have not been blessed with a strong jaw line. Although I cannot offer anything of an objective nature to support my belief, I am of the opinion that men with weak chins are correspondingly weak in character. All I can put forward in defense is that when I look back at all of the men I consider to be great leaders, all of them had a strong jaw line. I was jerked from my observation when Piso, taking the Senior Tribune at his word, spun about and crouched down.
"Prefect, what do you think? At this point, I think we have an even chance at seeing you exonerated."
That is what Piso said; what I heard was that my fate was coming down to a flip of a coin, with the odds being just as much against as they were in favor. Those, I reflected, were not the kind of odds I liked. Glancing over at Scribonius and Diocles, I could see they were of a similar mind.
"Is this the best we can do?" I asked Piso.
He considered for a moment, then gave a reluctant nod of his head.
"I believe so," he replied. "I think we've substantially damaged the state's case, but I can't think of anything else to do that might make the odds even better."
"I can." Before I could even speak, Scribonius had spoken.
All eyes turned to him, but he did not flinch.
"Call me as a witness."
I cannot say who made the most noise as they sucked in their breath, me or Diocles, but Piso only looked confused.
"I appreciate your loyalty, Fronto," he told my friend gently, "but I'm not sure that testimony from a comrade, and one who wasn't there, would do any good."
I grabbed Scribonius by the arm, squeezing it hard as a prelude to let him know what I was willing to do in order to prevent him from taking this step to harm himself. I should have known better; of all the people I could intimidate, Sextus Scribonius was the least likely.
"But I was there," Scribonius told Piso, ignoring my hissed warning to him. "I was there for the first part of the campaign."
Piso looked away from Scribonius to turn his gaze on me, clearly confused, but his eyes searched my face for the truth. I suppose he found it there, because he looked over at Scribonius, staring at him with a combination of confusion and an understanding that my friend could be of help. Finally, Piso relented.
"Very well, Fronto. If you're sure that you can help the Prefect, I will have you called as a witness."
"Sextus." I increased the pressure on his arm, which caused him to wince, but he still looked at me steadily, while we both ignored Piso’s look of confusion at my sudden use of a different name for a man he had thought was a book dealer. "Please. Don't do this. I couldn't live with myself if I thought that you put yourself in danger because of me."
"Titus." My friend gave me a tired smile. "It's not always about you. This is as much about me, and the kind of man I want to be, as it is about you."
"Fine words," I snorted, not hiding my derision. "But when you're kneeling next to me waiting for the spatha to take our heads off, I don't want to hear you changing your tune."
"You really think so little of me?" I could see a glint of real anger in my friend's eye. "You think that I don't know what I'm doing, that I don't know my own heart?" He shook his head. "I know exactly what choice I'm making. And nobody, not you, not Piso here, is going to stop me from doing what I think is right."
How does one answer that? I wondered. I am still looking for an answer, as all I could do was bow my head in defeat, too overcome to say anything. Piso seemed to understand what had transpired, giving us both a nod.
"Very well," he said. "It's decided. Fronto, or whatever his name is, will take the stand."
With that decided, we all turned to face the Senior Tribune as Piso stood to address him.
"Senior Tribune," he said. "I would like to call a witness for the defense."
The Senior Tribune was clearly surprised, asking, "And who might that be?"
With no more prompting than that, my friend stood up.
"I am the witness, Senior Tribune," Scribonius said calmly. "My name is Sextus Scribonius, and I was of the status of Evocatus and attached to the Army of Pannonia. I can offer testimony that will prove once and for all that the allegations against Prefect Pullus are false."
Every member of the Tribunal turned to face the Senior Tribune, while Sulpicianus just seemed lost. On the side of the prosecution, only Lucullus had the presence of mind to leap up.
"You can't hear his testimony!" he shouted. "He's supposed to be dead!"
Because it was the defense calling the witness, the burden was on us to prove that Scribonius was a witness who had testimony that was relevant to the case. What I realized very quickly was that, just in order to determine his status, Scribonius was going to expose himself to extreme risk. However, the Senior Tribune could do nothing to stop Piso from putting Scribonius to questioning in order to establish that fact without running the serious risk of showing that this Tribunal was anything but impartial. With that in mind, I studied the Senior Tribune's face closely as he held a whispered conversation with the other members. Although they managed to keep their voices down so that we could not make out the words, we could easily tell by the tone that there was a fierce debate raging between the four Tribunes as they argued back and forth. It did not surprise me that it was the Tribune to the right of the Senior Tribune who seemed to be putting up the biggest fight; what I did not know was what it was he was arguing for, Scribonius to be barred from being a witness, or for allowing him to speak. Finally, the Senior Tribune issued a command of a single word, "Enough!" before he sat back up.
"Tribune Piso, the Tribunal has decided that it will allow this man to be questioned to determine his qualifications to serve as a witness here today. But," he pointed at Piso with a wagging finger, "I will be listening very, very carefully, and the moment I detect that this man has nothing of value to offer here, this will be over. Is that understood?"
Piso bowed his head in answer, saying, "Perfectly, Senior Tribune. And I thank you for your application of justice."
"You can thank me later," the Senior Tribune warned. "Nothing has been decided yet."
Piso motioned Scribonius to take the chair, and I saw my friend take a deep breath, but he otherwise showed no hesitation, striding to the chair to take his seat. As he did so, I could see Lucullus whispering furiously to Sulpicianus, who was scribbling away in a tablet, looking like he would rather have been in the arena facing Felix the Retiarius. Scribonius took his seat, and offered up his oath to the gods of Rome that he would speak only the truth. That, I thought grimly, is what I'm afraid of, although it was not for me that I was worried. My stomach was in a raging turmoil, twisting in knots as I watched my best friend sitting so calmly, about to utter words that could lead to his own destruction.
"Although you have already introduced yourself, would you please do so again so that it can be entered into the record?" Piso asked my friend.
"My name is Sextus Scribonius, of the gens Scribonii, son of Lucius." His voice was clear and strong. "I retired from Legionary service as Secundus Pilus Prior of the 10th Equestris to take up the role of Evocatus when the 10th Equestris was...merged," my friend's mouth twisted as the bitter word was uttered at the disgrace that was meted out to our beloved 10th, "with the 10th Veneria, that is now known as the 10th Gemina. I was attached to the Army of Pannonia, where I served with Camp Prefect Pullus, and I was present for the campaign that is at the center of this Tribunal."
"Thank you, Sextus Scribonius," Piso replied.
He had been facing Scribonius so that his back was to me, but when Piso turned back to the table to pick up a tablet, I saw by his expression that he was deeply troubled.
Our eyes met, and I whispered the answer to the question I saw in them. "Trust him. He knows what he's doing. Just don't act surprised by what you hear."
Giving a barely perceptible nod, Piso turned back, holding up the tablet he had picked up.
"Sextus Scribonius, you say you were attached to the Army of Pannonia for this campaign. However, I have here the entry from the Legion diary that is submitted as the final entry at the completion of every campaign. Actually, what I am holding is just the list of the senior leadership of the Army that was present at the end. This, as you know, contains the names of all the Centurions of every grade, every Tribune, praefecti fabrorum, and every other Roman of noble birth who has participated in the campaign. However, it also contains the list of the Evocati who were attached to the Army in question as well." He made a show of perusing the tablet, frowning at something. "What I can't find in this list is the name of Sextus Scribonius. Can you explain why that is the case?"
"Yes." Scribonius showed no hesitation, looking at Piso levelly. "I wasn't present at the end."
