"Cicero proposed what?"
Father handed me a cup of wine, but when I made no move to take it, he shrugged and set it back on the table.
"Exactly what you heard. He asked for my permission to attack me."
"Permission to attack you..."
To be precise, he had said his plan was to 'become an enemy' of my father.
What exactly did that mean?
"I thought you would have figured it out by now, Lucius." Father smiled, clearly amused by the situation. "Why do you suppose Cicero would make such a request?"
"..."
I blinked and fell into thought. I had been certain Cicero had come to propose an alliance. But to ask for permission to become his enemy?
"Cicero is no fool. He already knows how the pieces are arranged." Father rose from his chair and slowly paced around the office. "I am about to become consul, and Crassus and Pompey are already aligned with me. Even the most cunning old fox in the Senate knows that Rome is about to undergo massive changes."
"But why would Cicero ask to oppose you?"
Wait... Now it made sense.
I understood why Cicero had gone out of his way to visit my father and make such a bizarre proposal.
"He wants to become the leader of the opposition."
"Exactly. Now you see it." Father nodded, picking his wine cup back up.
I finally took the cup he offered and spoke.
"If Cicero becomes the face of the Optimates, he can personally direct the attacks against you."
But why would Cicero reveal his intentions to father beforehand?
The answer to that was simple as well.
"He wants to prevent the political conflict from spiraling into utter chaos."
Cicero was, at his core, a moderate. While he favored the traditional authority of the Senate and the patricians, he vehemently opposed the use of military force in politics, as Sulla had done. Cicero was a man who went to great lengths to avoid violent conflict, preferring compromise and mediation above all else.
In the history I knew, he had actually maintained a fairly amicable relationship with my father, Julius Caesar. Contrary to what many later believed, the two had remained on friendly terms for a long time.
Cicero had borrowed substantial sums of money from Caesar, and the two frequently exchanged letters discussing Latin grammar and literature.
During the civil war between my father and Pompey, Cicero's choices were largely driven by his sense of duty to defend the Republic.
Although the assassins famously cried out his name after killing Caesar, Cicero had no direct involvement in the assassination.
Well, he had always despised resorting to assassination anyway.
"Cicero believes that if he becomes the leader of the opposition, he can control the hardline Optimates, just as he had during his own consulship."
"Do you believe his proposal is genuine, Father?"
"Given that he came to me first, there is no reason to assume he is lying. However, he surely has his own calculations." Father took a sip of wine and continued. "Since his consulship ended, Cicero's political presence had faded significantly. By placing himself at the head of the opposition against us now, he can firmly reestablish himself at the center of the Senate."
"Putting himself at the head of the pack so he can keep the wolves in check."
It was exactly the sort of proposal Cicero would make.
While I was lost in thought, father spoke again.
"Cicero is capable, but pride and vanity run deep in him."
"Just like someone else I know."
Father merely shrugged at my joke.
"At least I know when it is time to cast the dice. But Cicero? He waits until every other die has landed before making his move."
"I can't argue with that."
That was Cicero's greatest weakness. Rather than steering the tide of politics himself, he was always dragged along by them.
"Still, what Cicero said wasn't entirely wrong," I said. His warnings were worth paying attention to. "Religion is one of Rome's foundations. Expanding the authority of the temples will undoubtedly invite serious opposition."
Father seemed to have accepted my proposal on temples quite readily.
But if handled carelessly, it could cause serious problems.
"You are not the only one who has been busy, Lucius. Come this way."
I followed Father out of his office and down the corridor. When we arrived in front of a heavy wooden door, the slaves standing guard bowed and opened it.
"This is..."
As I stepped into the room, I muttered in sheer astonishment.
What on earth was this?
Father walked inside and spread his arms with theatrical flair.
"Allow me to introduce you to the future of Rome's temples."
Countless sheets of paper were plastered across one wall, almost completely covering it. The papers marked the locations and names of hundreds of temples across Rome and all Italy.
"What exactly is this, Father?"
"Voluntas deorum," Father replied with a radiant smile. "The will of the gods."
***
"Actually, you were the one who inspired this plan, Lucius." Father pointed at the vast spread of papers. "You shared the glory of the chariot race with Metellus, even though you could easily have kept it all for yourself."
"In Rome, monopolizing glory is rarely wise."
There were simply too many jealous eyes. To gain power, one needed immense glory, but glory inevitably invited fierce opposition and counterweights.
It was a pattern repeated endlessly throughout Roman history.
"I agree entirely. That is why I came up with this." Father nodded. "Most of the priests under my authority as Pontifex Maximus are also sitting senators."
I stepped closer to the wall, examining the names listed on the papers. Beneath each temple's name, the names of its priests were listed.
"I intend to expand the role of the temples while simultaneously increasing their authority. Of course, we must create offices to oversee one another and prevent corruption."
"You mean to say..."
The concept I had originally proposed to father was a sort of shadow government—bypassing the Senate and the assemblies of the people to operate independently through the temples.
However, there was a glaring flaw in that plan: placing too much unchecked power into the hands of a single individual.
If something happened to Father, the resulting political chaos would be utterly unpredictable.
But this... this was entirely different.
He was expanding the size and scope of the priesthoods.
"You plan to distribute the opportunity among a much larger number of senators."
"Precisely. Just as you brought Metellus onto your chariot." Father smiled at me.
I had seen that charming smile for over a decade, yet I still had no idea how he managed it.
I should probably practice in front of a mirror when I have the time.
"Regardless of faction or bloodline, I plan to offer this opportunity to as many people as possible. Whether they are Optimates or Populares, I will distribute the offices fairly."
I nodded instead of replying. It was certainly a method befitting Caesar.
In the history I knew, after becoming dictator, Caesar had increased the number of Senate seats to roughly 900.
While his primary goal was to dilute the power of the existing elite, it was also a calculated move to integrate provincial elites, including those from Gaul, into the central government.
"This will still meet significant resistance."
"Undoubtedly. But it will remain manageable."
"While we're at it, why don't we add another strategy?"
A new idea suddenly flashed through my mind. There was no need to invent something entirely new. Why not use the tools we already had?
"Add another strategy?" Father raised an eyebrow. "Do you have something in mind?"
"If an enemy fires a single arrow, you can clearly see it coming and easily dodge or deflect it. But what if they fire ten? A hundred?"
Father's temple reform would undoubtedly spark fierce controversy. But what if the arrows didn't stop there? What if they kept multiplying?
Could the Senate possibly keep its wits and mount a coherent response?
"I have made countless promises by now. The postal service, provincial road and harbor improvements, expanding the signal towers, establishing new insurance zones...I can hardly keep count of them all."
I had indeed been overly ambitious, launching numerous ventures. Consequently, quite a few of them had stalled for lack of momentum.
But once Father became consul, the situation would change entirely.
"If you take the reins of the chariot, Father..." I said, mimicking his familiar smile. "I will be the one firing the arrows."
***
Following the Trojan Games, a craze for gridiron and all things Trojan swept through Rome and Italy.
Upon hearing that Pompey himself was leading the Gridiron Committee, countless allied cities dispatched delegations to learn the rules of this new sport.
As the months passed, Rome transformed rapidly.
Festivals large and small continued to be held every month, and temples generated supplementary income by displaying public notices and sponsored announcements.
New businesses, brands, and products emerged, while those that failed to keep up quietly vanished.
"I hear paper has gotten so cheap lately that people are using it to wrap fish."
"Well, it's certainly far cheaper than parchment or papyrus."
"And that's not all. Palmolive is far cheaper than when it first came out."
Meanwhile, two individuals were busy preparing an entirely new venture: Pompeia and Brutus.
"So, we gather reports through the collegia, cross-check the facts, and then transmit the news to every city across Italy... This is much more difficult than I anticipated." Brutus sighed, twirling his quill between his fingers.
The task was not simply to collect and distribute information.
They had to assess the credibility of every report and painstakingly decide which specific news items should be sent to which cities.
Before they knew it, a project that had started with a handful of people had grown into an operation employing dozens. And even that was woefully insufficient.
"For now, let us focus entirely on Gaius Caesar's consular inauguration," Pompeia said, gesturing for a scribe to bring over some fresh paper. "We don't need to distribute printed news sheets right away. We just need to transmit short summaries that the town criers can easily announce."
"Meaning?"
"We need a single, captivating sentence that will sear itself into people's memories. Lucius suggested this one. What do you think?"
Pompeia scribbled something on the paper and handed it to Brutus.
Reading the words, Brutus could not help but mutter in disbelief.
"Is Caesar genuinely planning to go through with this?"
***
As the new year approached and the inauguration of Gaius Julius Caesar as consul drew near, a peculiar phenomenon began to appear in the allied cities of Italy.
New town criers began appearing in their local forums.
"Why is everyone gathered here?"
"They say new dispatches have arrived from Rome."
"New dispatches? Did the Senate issue some sort of decree?"
"It doesn't seem like it. Well, why don't we go listen for ourselves?"
Having been integrated into the Roman system for quite some time, the allied cities had gradually come to emulate Rome.
This included urban planning. Many cities had constructed temples in the Roman style and established a central forum.
"Fresh news from Rome this morning!"
The town crier's voice boomed across the forum. He announced everything from major political developments in Rome to minor everyday news.
The citizens gathered in the forum listened with rapt attention.
"By the way, who hired that crier? The city magistrates?"
"No. I heard Caesar hired him directly to announce the latest news in the forum every single day."
"Caesar hired him?"
Amid the murmurs, the crier continued his announcements. But the criers did not merely relay general news from Rome. They also provided notices tailored to each city.
"As Lucius Julius Caesar previously promised, beginning early next year, two million sesterces will be allocated to the improvement of roads and harbors! This will ensure the safe passage of merchants and..."
"Crassus has promised to provide lodging at greatly reduced cost to all officials from allied cities visiting Rome for Caesar's inauguration."
"Pompey has announced the expansion of the Gridiron Management Committee! Any city interested in participating may freely submit a formal inquiry..."
"Two grain ships from Sicily are scheduled to arrive at the port of Ostia in three days. As a result, wheat prices on the next market day are expected to stabilize!"
The citizens broke into animated discussions as they took in the news.
"Providing fresh news like this every single morning... It must cost a fortune."
"Doesn't Lucius Caesar run the towers? I doubt it costs him much."
"They're going to announce the news like this every day from now on? Then I suppose I'll have to wake up earlier and head to the forum."
"But if Caesar hired him, won't he only announce news that favors Caesar?"
"Still, knowing exactly when the road funds will be released is incredibly useful, isn't it?"
"Exactly. And if he lies about things like construction funds or grain ship arrivals, he would be exposed immediately."
Several slaves stood beside the town criers, holding up large sheets of paper. The news was written on them in concise sentences. Those in a hurry quickly skimmed the text before heading off to work.
However, since the majority of the populace could not read, they waited for the crier to catch his breath and repeat the announcements.
Just then, the town crier drew a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"On the day of his inauguration, Gaius Julius Caesar will announce the new policies he intends to enact!"
The citizens barely reacted to this. It was customary for incoming consuls to announce the laws and measures they intended to propose.
However, what followed next left the crowd absolutely stunned.
"One hundred?! Did he just say he's putting forward one hundred new policies?"
"Has Caesar completely lost his mind?"
One hundred.
The forum buzzed with disbelief at the crier's declaration that Caesar planned to announce a staggering one hundred proposals.
But the announcement was not over yet.
"Consul Caesar and his fellow consul Luceius will jointly announce a One-Year Republic Development Plan! Those who wish to hear the details should await further proclamations!"
A One-Year Republic Development Plan.
This unprecedented news was more than enough to shake Rome and all of Italy.