Chapter 173 : Aftermath
"Son of a bitch!"
Antony cursed, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his tunic.
The thick black smoke made it nearly impossible to see ahead.
"I don’t think we can go inside! Let’s fall back for now!"
"Did you see anyone make it out?!"
"We were watching the building the entire time. No one came out after those men went in."
Antony stared grimly at the warehouse as it was engulfed in flames.
Citizens were already rushing over with water buckets from all directions.
Some came sprinting with axes to clear away anything flammable nearby.
"They wouldn’t have gathered in there just to hold hands and commit suicide together."
But he couldn’t exactly dive into a towering inferno either.
That was when it happened.
"Look over there!"
A single figure stumbled out through the warehouse door.
Through the billowing black smoke, Antony recognized the man’s face.
"It’s Clodius! Go grab him!"
Clodius was staggering out of the warehouse, a dagger still gripped in one hand.
He managed a few steps before collapsing face-first onto the ground.
Every man who rushed over recoiled at the sight of him.
"One side of his face is almost completely burned away. Damn, I’ve never seen anything like this."
"His clothes are still burning. Put the fire out!"
The men dumped water on Clodius and dragged him away from the burning building.
The sight of him left everyone speechless.
As Antony approached, Clodius opened his eyes with visible effort and muttered,
"Antony? I always knew you were Caesar’s loyal lapdog. You might fool a half-wit like Curio, but not me."
"What happened in there?" Antony asked, frowning. "What did you do?"
"That’s not what matters. I have a message for your master, little dog."
Clodius coughed up a mouthful of blood.
"So prick up your ears and listen carefully."
"A message?"
"There was someone who funded me. Buying the grain, printing the pamphlets, scattering silver among the collegia—it was all paid for with his silver."
"What’s his name?"
"I don’t know. Only that he has a long scar down one side of his face. That should be enough for you to figure it out, shouldn’t it?"
Clodius gave a wet chuckle, blood bubbling at his lips.
Antony’s brow furrowed deeper.
A man with a long scar.
That could only mean one thing.
"The man who financed the attempt on Pompey’s life?"
"He looked a lot like the man in those wanted posters. He sought me out right after that incident."
Clodius scoffed.
"He told me to use that money to do whatever I wanted. Said he would always help me, even if I failed. Looking at how things turned out, I suppose that was a lie. And..."
Clodius’s voice steadily grew fainter.
Realizing that Clodius was dying, Antony leaned closer to hear him.
Antony recoiled at what Clodius whispered next.
"What did you say?"
***
"Luceius, I am not angry. I was merely caught off guard by the fact that you marched into the Forum with lictors without consulting me first."
When I entered the atrium, Father was in the middle of a conversation with Luceius.
"Gaius, you know me. I only meant to help you..."
"I’m sure you did. I believe you. But did we not ascend to the consulship together? Until now, I have always discussed my plans with you. All I ask is that you do the same for me."
Luceius nodded vigorously at every word.
A moment later, he wiped the sweat from his brow and left the atrium.
We exchanged brief greetings as he passed me on his way out.
"Anyone would think he was a student being scolded by his teacher."
"I held back from saying worse. Luceius is my co-consul, after all."
"The citizens seem to think otherwise, though."
I replied as I took a seat. People around Rome had even begun joking that Father and I were the real consuls that year.
That was probably why Luceius had pulled a stunt like that.
He had been coaxed by a few senators into provoking Clodius’s gang in the Forum.
As a result, Father had been forced to intervene and deliver the speech himself.
"I should put Luceius in charge of a few more committees. That should keep him too busy to do anything stupid. Now that we’ve put out the immediate fire, we can catch our breath..."
Father’s amused smile faded when he noticed my expression.
"You have the look of someone bearing news."
"Clodius is dead."
A brief silence descended, and Father leaned forward.
"Start with the details. How did he die?"
I took a deep breath. The news Antony brought from the port of Ostia was shocking.
All this time, Father and I had been monitoring Clodius’s movements while waiting to secure Curio’s testimony.
With Curio’s testimony, we could arrest Clodius on charges of inciting public violence and plotting a rebellion.
But before we could arrest him, something unexpected happened. A fire broke out in the warehouse where Clodius was hiding.
"Several corpses were found inside. Most appeared to have been killed in a fight."
"If Clodius let them inside, he must have known them."
Father said, stroking his chin.
"The question is why they sought Clodius out, and why they fought."
"Clodius said something important before he died."
This was the most crucial part.
"He claimed that a certain man had been financing him. A considerable sum of silver, to be precise."
I continued.
"He used the money to distribute free grain to the citizens and finance the printing of his pamphlets. He also used it to run the printing presses. He said a man approached him and handed over the funds right after the attempted assassination of Pompey. And on that man’s face..."
"There was a long scar?"
I nodded. The very culprit who had incited the Judean extremists and supplied them with weapons.
I had a strong feeling that this Clodius incident was somehow connected to that man.
"He said they had promised to provide him with a ship bound for Massilia. Though it seems they never intended to keep that promise."
"..."
Father tapped the table, deep in thought.
"So they eliminated Clodius once they decided he had outlived his usefulness."
"I think so too."
But there was one even more important detail: Clodius’s final message.
"He mentioned Gaul in his final moments. He said Gaul would be next."
"Gaul... Things have been quite unstable over there recently. We have intelligence that the Helvetii are about to begin a mass migration."
"That intelligence is probably correct."
Just as they had in the history I remembered. In the original timeline, pressure from Germanic tribes drove the Helvetii to migrate westward in enormous numbers, throwing Gaul into chaos.
In response, the Gallic tribes appealed to Rome for aid, giving Caesar the opportunity to intervene.
Over the next several years, Caesar campaigned against both Germanic and Gallic forces, eventually establishing Roman dominance throughout the region.
The famous Gallic Wars.
But the situation was different now.
What if someone was interfering there?
Were they trying to prevent the Gallic Wars?
Or were they trying to escalate them?
"I don’t know exactly what they’re plotting in Gaul, but I think we need to pay closer attention to that region for the time being. On top of that, Curio also testified that Clodius had been courting several Gallic tribes and dissatisfied allied cities."
"Right, I will gather some intelligence as well."
Father picked up a piece of paper and a quill, jotting something down.
"But Rome has barely escaped civil war. With the assembly over, there’s no reason to maintain the Final Decree either. Our first priority must be to calm the citizens."
"Once news of Clodius’s death spreads, suspicion may fall on us." I noted. Considering that he died immediately after Father issued the arrest warrant, someone could easily concoct a conspiracy theory.
"Any other time, perhaps. But we worked harder than anyone else to avoid an armed conflict. The citizens of Rome know that perfectly well."
Father shook his head.
"Even if someone tries to spin this into a conspiracy, there won’t be many citizens who actually believe it."
Hmm, that was also true. If we had wanted to eliminate Clodius, we would have just done it from the start.
We would not have gone to the trouble of securing Curio’s testimony and issuing an arrest warrant.
"Just in case, I’ll have Curio’s testimony printed as pamphlets and distributed."
"Yes, I’ll leave that to you. And there’s one more way to put the citizens’ minds at ease."
Father set the paper down and rose from his chair.
"The Nova Troia Literary Contest."
"The literary contest..."
I muttered. He meant the literary contest to celebrate the construction of the new city district, Nova Troia.
If things had gone according to the original schedule, we would have already started taking submissions, but it had been delayed due to the recent crises.
"We can expand it a bit further. Send invitations to writers not only in Rome, but throughout Italy and the provinces. Make it more than just a literary contest—turn it into a grand festival celebrating the construction of Nova Troia."
"That would also give us the perfect excuse to invite delegations from the Gallic tribes and allied cities."
Expand a literary contest far beyond its original scope, then use it to bring key Gallic and allied leaders straight to Rome. A classic Caesar move.
"Exactly. They will be far more willing to come for a festival than for an investigation. I’ll leave the organization of the festival to you."
"I’ll have to expand it far beyond our original plans."
Maybe I’ll need to devise an entirely new approach.
The two of us stared at each other in silence for a moment.
Thinking back on it, it had been a wildly chaotic few weeks.
It felt like walking on thin ice every single day.
Father was the first to break the silence.
"If it hadn’t been for you, Lucius, we would never have brought this crisis to a peaceful end. The Senate would have forced me to put down Clodius’s faction by the sword. And the citizens would never have trusted me again."
"You were the one who resolved it, Father."
Sure, I supported him from the sidelines.
But it would have been impossible without Father’s absolute trust in me.
"You humorless boy. This is the part where you’re supposed to boast a little. It’s not often I dole out compliments."
"I seem to remember you complimenting me quite often, actually."
We laughed together, then let out almost identical sighs as the weight of the coming work settled over us.
"It looks like we’re going to be busy for a while. Unless you have other plans, why don’t we dine together tonight? With Julia and Pompeia as well."
"That sounds wonderful. I’ll head out for a bit and be right back, then," I replied. "There are some people I have put off visiting for far too long."
***
After making my way through Rome’s winding streets, I finally reached my destination. They were already waiting for me in front of the insula.
"We never expected you to actually come! Our home is so shabby. We weren’t sure it was proper to invite a man like you inside..."
"It is perfectly fine." I gave the two women a reassuring nod.
Behind them stood a few children.
They looked to be around ten years old.
One child stared at me curiously, while another could not bring themselves to meet my gaze.
"Please, come upstairs. We hurried to put together some wine and a little food..."
"Thank you."
I followed the women up the insula’s stairs.
The room was typical of countless modest homes throughout Rome.
A kite hung on one wall—the same kind the women had carried when they gathered in the Forum only days earlier.
"Thanks to your support, Caesar, we have had everything we need. Our husbands’ former colleagues also drop by often to bring us food."
the woman said as she sat down.
Silence lingered for a moment, and she looked toward the door.
"Sitting here like this, I still feel as though my husband might open that door and walk in at any moment. Foolish, isn’t it?"
"..."
One of the children hurried over and buried their face in their mother’s arms.
"If you ever need anything at all, please come to me. You will not face it alone."
Both women were widows whose husbands had been killed during the attempted assassination of Pompey. Their husbands had served as signalmen under my command until they were murdered while on night duty.
Right after they were killed, a group of Judean extremists had attempted to assassinate Pompey.
A mysterious faction had been behind that attack as well.
The mastermind who had spread the rumors and supplied the weapons was still out there—the man with the long scar near his eye.
Clodius had just revealed that his benefactor bore the same distinctive scar and had approached him around the time of the assassination attempt.
"I made a promise at the funeral. I promised that I would find the culprit, no matter what."
"Is that why you came today...?"
"I haven’t caught the culprit yet." I said. "But I will soon."
They would pay for murdering my men.
I looked at the children gathered around the table.
"I’m sure you’ve heard the news that a school is being built soon. If it’s alright with you, I would like your children to be among the school’s first pupils, with every expense paid by me."
"Our children... at the new school?"
"Nor will my support end when they leave school. Later, when they grow up, they will always have a place in one of my businesses, should they desire it."
I pulled out a few small medals from my pocket and handed them to the children.
Each medal bore the child’s name and a unique number.
The children stared intently at the medals in their hands, fascinated.
"If you ever visit one of my businesses anywhere in Rome or Italy, show this medal to the people working there. They will help you, no matter how difficult your situation may be."
"But... are we truly allowed to accept something like this?"
One of the women murmured.
"You have already done so much for us..."
"Your husbands laid down their lives for me. Even this is not enough to repay what your husbands did for me."
After a brief silence, the woman could no longer hold back her tears.
As the other woman rubbed her back, the grieving widow managed to speak through her sobs.
"Sometimes, I still think about it. If only he had worked somewhere else. Perhaps he would still be alive."
"I am so sorry. As I said, if you need anything else..."
After comforting the women, I slowly walked down the insula’s stairs alone.
Just then, one of the little girls ran after me and asked.
"When people die, do they really go somewhere beyond the sky and the stars? Mom said Dad went somewhere very far away."
"To be completely honest, I don’t know either."
I had died once, only to awaken in Rome more than two thousand years in the past. Ever since then, I had struggled simply to survive.
At first, it was simply to protect myself and my family.
But somewhere along the way, more and more people had come to trust and depend on me.
They were my new family now, and protecting them had become my purpose.
I looked at the medal the little girl was clutching tightly in her hand.
"Just remember what I told you. The doors to my home will always be open to you."
The child gave a firm nod.