Chapter 182 : Unexpected Result
From the sky, Rome looked like a miniature model.
Arenas and temples dotted the city among the countless insulae.
"I’ll feed the fire a little more, sir."
The technician tossed a bit more straw into the burner mounted above the basket.
The fire flared up, radiating intense heat.
He held a long stick with a sponge attached to one end, using it to smother any sparks that landed on the inside of the envelope.
"Lucius, are you absolutely sure this thing is safe?"
"I didn’t realize you were afraid of heights, Father."
I looked at him, then turned my gaze back over the edge of the basket.
The hot air balloon we were in was floating high in the sky, tethered to the ground by ropes.
Right below us lay the Ager Vaticanus—the Vatican Plain—and far in the distance, we could see the city of Rome and the Janiculum Hill.
"Anyone who isn’t afraid at this height would be insane."
Father let out a sigh, clutching the edge of the basket tightly with one hand.
"If we go just a little higher, we might actually be able to speak with Jupiter himself."
"It certainly is an appropriate place to receive a revelation."
I looked around. There were only three people in the basket: the technician operating the burner, Father, and me.
Two other hot air balloons were floating in the sky nearby.
There were far fewer volunteers willing to ride the balloons than I had anticipated.
Well, it made sense. The Romans of this era had probably never even imagined flying this high.
Strictly speaking, ’floating’ was a more accurate description than ’flying,’ though.
Right then, Father let out a sigh and said,
"We should just put the priests in these balloons every single day."
"Put the priests in the balloons?"
"Have them take turns riding the balloons every day while the council is in session. So they can receive revelations from the gods in the sky."
Father added with a chuckle.
"King Numa supposedly visited a sacred spring every day to receive guidance from Egeria while he was carrying out his religious reforms."
I knew exactly what he was getting at.
Religious reforms always relied on the authority of the gods.
Simply put, a hot-air balloon was nothing more than a device that rose by heating the air inside its envelope.
But if we wanted to, we could easily attach religious symbolism to it.
"Riding a balloon to seek the guidance of the gods. That actually sounds quite plausible."
"If we make them ride these every day, they’ll be begging to resume negotiations without any prompting from us," Father said with a laugh. "A few city delegations have already approached me secretly. They offered to support the expansion of my authority as the Pontifex Maximus if I ensured their interests were protected in this council."
"It seems they’ve misunderstood our true objective."
Well, it was only natural for them to misunderstand. No Pontifex Maximus in Rome had ever convened a council like this before.
But our goal went far beyond merely expanding Father’s authority.
Still, if this succeeds, my father will gain a great deal of auctoritas and dignitas, two of the things Roman politicians valued most.
"All my life, I have pursued greater glory, Lucius. My father taught me that it was something a man must strive for."
Father said, gazing out past the basket toward the city of Rome.
"And the only way to achieve that glory was by conquering new lands and peoples and bringing them to their knees before Rome. But now, a new path has opened up. If this Religious Council succeeds..."
Father turned his head and looked at me.
"We will forge a new Rome."
"The Roman citizens are likely already feeling the change."
Countless people had gathered below the balloon.
People who had come not just to see the balloons, but to witness the very first Religious Council.
And so, in a way no one could have predicted, the first Religious Council was about to begin.
"And the citizens will be the ones to ensure this council succeeds."
***
It was no longer a secret that Gaius Julius Caesar had been preparing for the Religious Council well in advance.
Immediately after the Religious Council was announced, massive tents were erected on the Ager Vaticanus, even before the delegations had decided whether to participate.
The plain, once little more than pastureland, was suddenly covered with tents and market stalls.
At first glance, one could easily mistake it for a legionary encampment.
Roman senators, tribunes, and members of Rome’s various priesthoods arrived alongside magistrates and priestly delegations from cities throughout Italy. Hundreds of people flocked to the Ager Vaticanus to attend the first council.
"Caesar still hasn’t given an answer."
"I heard the other cities are already sending him proposals. Are you sure he hasn’t already picked a side?"
The priests of the Roman temples competed fiercely to secure greater authority than the other temples.
Similarly, priests from the other Italian cities sounded one another out and negotiated behind closed doors to protect their autonomy.
But Caesar simply gave nothing away.
Whose side was he actually on?
Amidst the fierce debates, people began to gather outside the council hall.
The crowd included not only residents of Rome but also citizens from other Italian cities who had come for the Nova Troia festival.
"Has anyone heard anything?"
There wasn’t much information available to the public.
No one knew what issues were being discussed in the council, who was attending, how long it would take, or how they planned to reach a conclusion.
But anyone could tell that something historic was taking place.
Amid this charged atmosphere, the first council finally convened.
And it began with the furious shouts of the priests.
***
"Rome must not interfere in the affairs of the temples outside Rome!"
"The rituals of our city existed long before Rome ever granted us citizenship! So did our priests, our temples, and our ceremonies!"
A priest from Lanuvium shouted, rising from his seat.
Several hundred priests were seated inside the massive tent where the council was being held.
"Which sacrifices to offer on which day, in what order to perform the rituals, and even who may preside over those rituals—we inherited all these traditions from our ancestors."
He and several other priests from the Italian cities raised their voices, challenging Caesar.
"How can Rome presume to change these traditions as it pleases?"
"You are correct."
The murmuring ceased at once. The priests exchanged bewildered glances at Caesar’s unexpected answer.
"However, what I wish to discuss today is not which goat must be sacrificed on which day. It is a matter far more important than that." Caesar said, lifting the document in front of him. "Last year, at a temple in Campania, one-third of the rents collected from tenants on the temple’s lands was unaccounted for in the ledgers."
"Wait, how did you..."
"At a temple in Lanuvium, silver offerings were melted down and used to pay off a priest’s personal debts. These cases came to light after citizens in the affected cities filed complaints."
As the priests sat in stunned silence, Caesar continued.
"Ever since the postal service was established, anyone can now file an accusation. In fact, there were so many that it actually became a problem."
"Even if that is true, it is nothing more than the misconduct of a few rogue priests! And Rome has no authority to interfere. To use unverified accusations as a pretext for such reforms is..."
"That is exactly why I convened this gathering today," Caesar said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "To find a way to resolve these issues, and to listen to your opinions. So for now, I will do nothing more than moderate the discussion."
The priests carefully studied Caesar’s expression. They figured they would now be able to tell whose side he was on.
Silence followed.
But even as the council continued, Caesar gave no hint of where he stood.
He brought up the issues of financial audits and corruption, but throughout the entire session, he refused to say which solution he favored.
"I can’t even begin to guess what the Pontifex Maximus is thinking."
Countless people desperately tried to win Caesar’s favor behind the scenes.
But no matter how many gifts or promises they offered, Caesar simply maintained his silence.
It was only natural that the first session ended without any tangible results.
"We’re never going to reach a conclusion at this rate."
"We need to push our position more aggressively!"
As the representatives traded sarcastic remarks and sneers, the atmosphere in the council hall grew increasingly hostile.
"Enough, enough. Let us stop here for today."
The first meeting came to a close, having served as little more than an opening round in which the temples and delegations tested one another’s positions.
Without reaching any consensus, having done nothing but shout at each other, the attendees stormed out of the tent, their faces flushed red.
"I knew it. There’s no way a council like this could ever reach a conclusion."
But when the priests returned to the tent for the second meeting a few days later, they were in for a massive shock.
Thousands, no, tens of thousands of people were surrounding the council hall.
With so many people gathered around it, the priests could barely make their way to the entrance.
The priests stared blankly at the citizens who were singing songs and cheering loudly.
"What on earth is going on?"
***
"You want me to make it look like the council is proceeding smoothly? But didn’t the first meeting end in a total disaster?"
"What happens inside the council is strictly confidential. No one outside the council knows what is actually being discussed."
That evening, after the first council meeting had ended, I sat down with Brutus and Pompeia to strategize.
How should we deliver the news about the Religious Council to the citizens of Rome and the rest of Italy?
The others hadn’t realized it yet, but the press would prove crucial to the success of this council.
"The citizens don’t even know what issues are being debated in the council right now. But everyone knows that something important is being discussed."
It was a natural assumption to make, really.
Priesthoods and delegations had gathered from all across Italy.
Such a thing had never happened before in Roman history.
I looked at Brutus and Pompeia as I continued.
"We don’t need to lie. We just need to tell them who attended the Religious Council and what the general atmosphere was like."
"You want to mislead the citizens," Pompeia muttered. "You want to create the impression that something crucial is being discussed here—and that the council is going to succeed."
"We have the postal service and signal towers in Rome now. By tomorrow, the citizens in the Forum will hear news about the council."
I nodded. What would happen if the citizens’ expectations continued to grow?
The longer the council dragged on, the more important people would assume it must be.
Eventually, everyone would come to believe that the council was of the utmost importance. If public expectations rose that high, could the delegates really end the council without reaching a conclusion?
"Let’s make it so that the citizens of every city in Italy can send letters to their own delegations."
I said, looking at the two of them. They both looked surprised. Public opinion polls were useful, but nothing demonstrated public sentiment more clearly than citizens writing directly to their representatives.
"We are going to bring all the citizens over to our side."
It didn’t take long for mail volume to reach a new record.
***
[Gaius Caesar has stated that the wisest men from all across Italy have gathered for this council, and that he is certain of its success...]
[While the specific details of the council have not been revealed, it is known that the delegates are discussing matters related to religion and the temples...]
[Caesar has stated that he will not reveal his own position until he has heard every representative’s views in full.]
The wooden arms atop the signal towers swung back and forth, relaying the news.
Soon afterward, carriages loaded with mail and pamphlets set out for cities across Italy.
As always, the heralds shouted the news to the crowds in the Forum.
"To think priests from all across Italy gathered in Rome. Has anything like this ever happened before?"
"Not that I can remember."
Citizens everywhere talked about the council nonstop.
What on earth were they discussing behind closed doors?
No one knew the details, but it was clear that something important was taking place.
Newspapers and heralds spread the news first; pamphlets soon followed, further fueling the citizens’ interest.
The pamphlets featured woodblock prints depicting the council in full swing.
The print showed Consuls Caesar and Luceius seated in the center while several priests engaged in heated debate around them.
"Has Rome ever cared this much about the opinions of cities like ours?"
"I was thinking the same thing. Before this, Rome only seemed to remember us when it needed our sons for another war. To think Rome would actually invite our priests here and ask for our opinion."
"Rome really has changed a lot."
Some cities even went so far as to hold festivals or religious processions to pray for the council’s success.
And countless people began writing letters to their city’s delegations in Rome.
Most of the letters contained words of encouragement, good wishes, or questions about the council.
When the delegations returned to their lodgings after the meetings, they were met with mountains of letters every single day.
"The council hasn’t achieved anything yet... What in the world is happening?"
But letters weren’t the only things being sent to Rome from cities across Italy.
The blacksmiths from all across Italy, who had gathered in Rome at Lucius’s invitation came up with a new plan.
While learning the new ironmaking methods, they also exchanged their own casting and metalworking techniques, naturally building relationships with one another.
"Why don’t we forge something to symbolize our hopes for the council’s success?"
"Something symbolic?"
After exchanging ideas through letters, they came up with a plan.
A laurel leaf made of bronze.
Each city’s blacksmiths would forge a small bronze laurel leaf and engrave the city’s name on it.
Capua, Lanuvium, Arretium, Ostia, and countless other cities joined in.
The laurel leaves forged this way all arrived in Rome.
And a Roman metalsmith carefully brazed the leaves together into a single laurel wreath.
On the day the laurel wreath was completed, a statue of Jupiter was erected in front of the council tent.
And under the watchful eyes of thousands of spectators, Gaius Caesar personally held the laurel wreath and stood before the statue of Jupiter.
"On the day this council concludes, I shall dedicate this laurel wreath to Jupiter!"
Several men in front of Caesar were scribbling down his words as quickly as they could.
They were journalists, members of a new profession that had begun to emerge in Rome following the pamphlet war.
They made their living by investigating issues, interviewing people, recording what they learned, and reporting their findings to the public.
"There are concerns that granting too much authority to the temples of the other Italian cities will weaken the privileges of Rome’s own priesthoods. What are your thoughts on this matter?"
"My answer is simple," Caesar replied with his familiar smile. "Rome is not great because she forces other cities to bow before her. Communities across Italy have sent their sons to fight for Rome, built roads, supplied her armies, and offered sacrifices to the gods in her name. Their service and devotion are part of what made Rome great."
He looked at the bewildered journalists before continuing.
"If their service helped make Rome great, then Rome has a duty to listen to them in return—at least in matters of religion. Don’t you agree?"
But there was one thing Caesar had overlooked.
The Religious Council no longer belonged to Rome and Italy alone.