CHAPTER 342: CHAPTER 221 POMPEY AND CAESAR

Clatens, a prominent figure in the Sulla Faction, was not only well-connected with Crassus but also the most formidable lawyer in Rome. The Senate sent him, hoping he could persuade the stubborn Crassus.

Crassus was not in a hurry to inquire but instead warmly entertained Clatens. Only after the meal did he ask about the Senate’s deliberations.

Unhurriedly wiping the food residue from his mouth and straightening the creases in his clothes, Clatens looked at Crassus with piercing eyes and said in a deep, resonant voice, "Crassus, there’s no need for pretenses between us. Though you’ve been in the camp, your men have been quite active in Rome. I don’t believe you’re unaware of the Senate’s discussions."

Crassus immediately changed his expression, sneering coldly, "Clatens, are you hesitant to speak out of guilt?"

"Crassus, is this how you treat someone truly defending you!" Clatens retorted confidently, "If not for Catullus and my persistence, the Senate wouldn’t have debated for so many days! Even though the proposal for a Triumph wasn’t passed, you still received a Minor Triumph as compensation; wouldn’t you say I had a hand in that?"

"A Minor Triumph..." Crassus scoffed and stopped glaring at Clatens, but the resentment in his words remained unabated: "The Senate swiftly agreed to hold a Triumph for Pompey but stingily gave me only a Minor Triumph. Others ride in carriages, wear laurel crowns, with soldiers following, and sacrifice bulls...

But I must walk, with no soldiers accompanying me, only civilians, and sacrifice sheep at the temple... Compared to Pompey, I appear a fool in the eyes of the Romans. The Senate treats a hero who risked his life to protect the country so unfairly!"

"I understand your feelings; it is indeed somewhat unfair, considering last year, when the rebellion was at its peak, you alone stood up and stabilized the situation in Italy..."

Clatens, aligning with Crassus’ grievances, expressed his sympathy and, seeing the other’s demeanor slightly improve, softly said, "But you should also know that many Romans always consider slaves as our dogs. When a dog bites its master and is killed, it’s just an ordinary occurrence. They don’t see it as an equal war, whereas Pompey fought against the rebels of our Roman Civilian Faction, not only wiping them out but also conquering territories of many barbarian tribes in Spain, which won more favor from the elders..."

Crassus angrily replied, "Fighting the slave rebels was just a lesson to a bunch of dogs?! Have they forgotten how these despised dogs repeatedly defeated our Roman Army, killing and wounding over 100,000 Roman soldiers, with Legal Officer Crabo dying in battle, Valerius defeated, Governor of Northern Italy Casius defeated, Governors Publius Crassus and Crodianus defeated, and the Roman citizens trembling in fear, with no elder daring to lead soldiers into battle...

Have they forgotten the disgrace they displayed under the threat of these slave rebels last year? Rome has not faced such danger in decades. If this isn’t considered a fierce war, then what is!"

In Crassus’ roars, Clatens remained calm and sighed, "That’s precisely why the Senate doesn’t wish to make a big deal of it; it’s not only for Rome’s dignity but also for the country’s stability, keeping the slaves in check.

Besides, you spent enormous human and material resources building walls to trap the rebels, which ended in failure, causing dissatisfaction among many elders. And also—"

Clatens paused, intensifying his tone, "Although you won the battle against the rebels, the remaining rebels were ultimately annihilated by Pompey. You did not secure a complete victory."

"I’ve already entirely defeated the rebels, my army pursued the remnants everywhere, they couldn’t possibly regroup! Pompey just happened to encounter a large group of fleeing soldiers we were chasing and captured them without a fight. Yet he has the gall to claim he ended the war! It’s nonsense! He’s a shameless thief who stole the honor that should have been mine!"

Out of discontent with the Senate, Crassus ranted a lot, but ultimately he resigned himself to the Senate’s decision: Rome would hold a Minor Triumph for him, scheduled on the same day as Pompey’s Triumph, with his procession scheduled later.

After Clatens left, the resentment on Crassus’ face quickly disappeared, and he became contemplative. Toying with his wine glass, he suddenly said, "Quintus, do you know the main purpose of that guy coming here?"

"Master, wasn’t he here to announce the Senate’s decision?" Quintus asked quietly.

"He came to deepen my hatred for Pompey so that we would fight each other and put those in the Senate at ease..." Crassus said calmly.

"Master, that Pompey is indeed despicable..." Quintus carefully added.

"Those in the Senate underestimate me!" Crassus snorted disdainfully, his face showing a subtle, enigmatic smile: "As long as there’s enough interest, enemies can sometimes become friends... Quintus, go back to Rome and organize people to spread throughout the city how I endured hardships for over a year to quell the rebels for Rome, only to be treated unfairly by the Senate, to gain the people’s sympathy!"

"Yes, Master."

Crassus put down his wine glass and walked leisurely out of the tent, gazing eastward at the Capitoline Hill revered by the Romans, appearing and disappearing in the distance...

For the supreme power of Rome, Crassus decided to temporarily endure the humiliation he suffered today.

............

On the day of the Triumph, on the road leading to the Jupiter Temple on Capitoline Hill, the ceremonial procession was led from the front. Captives from Spain and Italy were paraded at the forefront, followed by carriages filled with various trophies.

The main protagonist of the Triumph was situated in the center of the procession, his entire body anointed with ointment, his face dyed crimson with ochre, wearing a golden crown inscribed with his achievements, an armband on his arm, holding a staff in his left hand, a laurel branch in his right, atop a quadruple chariot, resembling the majestic Jupiter.

He was flanked by gallant cavalrymen, with his veterans who had been through life and death following behind...

As this massive procession crossed the city gates into the Rome City District, the dense crowds lining the streets erupted with thunderous cheers, flowers flew, flags fluttered, and the entire city came alive...

Gneus Pompey reveled in the praises of the citizens, and at that moment, he suddenly thought of Sula.

This was not Rome’s first Triumph for him; a decade ago, after divorcing his first wife and marrying Sula’s daughter, Sula dispatched him to Sicily and North Africa to eliminate the remnants of Marius. He accomplished the task outstandingly.

Sula demanded he disband his troops and return to Rome, but he requested a Triumph and refused to immediately disband his legion.

Sula had always been fond of his young son-in-law, but this time he hesitated, as Pompey was not yet even an elder, and a Triumph was Rome’s highest honor.

Faced with Sula’s refusal, the impulsive young Pompey uttered, "More people worship the sunrise than the sunset," and the aged Sula ultimately relented, allowing Pompey to have his way.

During the grand Triumph, Sula called him "Magnus," and even as arrogant as Pompey was, he could discern that the nickname was given more in jest. But this time, after conquering the Spanish rebels who troubled the Senate greatly and annihilating the slave rebels in Italy, such achievements warranted the nickname, didn’t they?

Gneus Pompey Magnus, what a grand name! ... Pompey couldn’t help but feel excited, his face flushing red with passion.

"Look, Pompey’s face is red again!"

"His face is really thin!"

"What a charming hero!"

...

The cheers from the Roman citizens along the roadside grew even more fervent. At 36, Pompey steadfastly retained his habit of blushing, bringing delight to everyone. They felt that blushing not only signaled their hero’s youthful charm but also proved his genuine and honest nature. They did not envy Pompey soaring to such great heights since this young hero of humble beginnings embodied the deepest dreams within their Roman hearts.

Among the cheering throngs was a young man who did not shout but quietly gazed at Pompey on the quadriga, his expression complex.

He was tall and slender, with delicate features and fair skin, bright, sharp eyes, wearing a long-sleeved short tunic instead of the usual short-sleeved garment, with golden fringes at the cuffs, and a deliberately loose belt around his waist... making him stand out in the crowded throng.

He was none other than Gaius Julius Caesar, a figure of significant controversy among the Roman citizens in recent years.

On one hand, the citizens admired Caesar’s courage, as he defied the threat of death by refusing dictator Sula’s demand for a divorce from Cornelia, Qinna’s daughter, leading to years of exile overseas.

On the other hand, his pursuit of fashion and unconventional lifestyle upset conservative Roman citizens. Rumors even spread in Rome about him becoming King Nicomedes IV of Bithynia’s paedophile while serving in the Eastern Province, ignoring his being awarded the Warrior Crown for his bravery in battle, contrary to the image of a mere playboy from an illustrious family.

Caesar cared little for the slander from the Roman citizens. At this moment, his heart burned with ambition: he was nearing 30, the traditional starting age for Roman citizens to enter politics. Yet when he looked at the not much older Pompey, who had already achieved so much because of that damned Sula, the Senate repeatedly broke tradition for his rapid advancement. He had to find a way; otherwise, simply conforming and coasting through Rome’s political scene would only make him indistinguishable among the masses...

Not far from Caesar in the crowd, another young man, too, was not cheering, but his gaze towards Pompey was filled with admiration.

Marcus Tullius Cicero was his name, hailing from the small town of Alpilum. He was slim, with a long neck and clumsy movements, his appearance somewhat lacking, but he didn’t feel too inferior about it. Since Boyhood, he had been sent to Rome to study, his talents in oratory left many astounded.