Son of Julius Caesar: Rebuilding Rome [Business/Republic building]

Chapter 142: Chapter 142 : The Great Temple Tournament

"We cannot allow the Pontifex Maximus to reshape the temples at his whim."

"I agree. Setting up these committees is one thing, but the Pontifex Maximus cannot dictate how the temples operate."

Men in white ceremonial robes conversed among themselves, each bearing the marks of his priestly office.

Present were the flamines, each devoted to the service of a different god; the augurs, who read the will of the gods through omens and auspices; and the Quindecimviri, the fifteen priests entrusted with preserving and consulting the Sibylline Books.

Among them was even the Rex Sacrorum—a priest who possessed less actual power than the Pontifex Maximus, yet technically ranked above him in religious precedence.

For these men to gather in secret without the Pontifex Maximus was exceptionally rare.

The only major priestly order absent from the gathering was that of the Vestal Virgins.

The reason they were not invited was simple: the Temple of Vesta was under the direct supervision of the Pontifex Maximus.

"However, the Senate currently seems inclined to tolerate his reforms, do they not?" a young priest interjected cautiously. "Our priesthood should at least make a show of cooperating with Caesar’s reforms."

"If we do that, and the situation sours, we will be the ones blamed for it, not the Pontifex Maximus," an older priest retorted.

Most of the men present were senators holding dual roles as priests. It went without saying that everyone knew exactly which way the political winds in the Senate were blowing.

By actively drawing the senators into his reforms, Caesar was steadily turning the Senate in favor of his One-Year Plan.

But reforming the temples was a different matter entirely.

"There is no need for us to invite controversy. Can we not simply follow the Pontifex Maximus’s orders to the letter and leave it at that?"

The other priests nodded in agreement.

It was no longer a secret that Caesar intended to expand the roles of the temples.

There was no reason for them to stand at the forefront of an initiative that could easily provoke a fierce backlash.

"We stand as guardians of Rome’s sacred rites, ancient traditions, and service to the gods. If we make that our argument, not even the Pontifex Maximus will be able to bend us to his will."

***

When I entered the atrium, my father was conversing with a woman in white Vestal robes.

The fact that they were seated rather than reclining told me this was no casual conversation.

"So you require a larger budget?"

"I am afraid so, Pontifex Maximus. Unlike the other temples, the Temple of Vesta does not generate substantial revenue from advertising," said Miria, the Chief Vestal.

It had been a while since I last saw Miria.

Back when I was aggressively marketing Palmolive, the Vestal Virgins had lent me their assistance, and Miria had been an enthusiastic supporter.

"To merely maintain our existing charitable works, we require a larger budget."

"Then I shall do my utmost to secure it."

Father turned his head toward me.

"Lucius, I did not expect you today. Come, sit with us."

"Chief Vestal."

"Lucius."

Miria and I exchanged polite greetings.

"I inadvertently overheard your conversation. Is the Temple of Vesta facing a financial crisis?"

"It is not a crisis," Miria replied with a smile. "I am simply concerned that our role may diminish compared to the other temples."

"To be precise, it is because of the plan you and I proposed," father interjected. "Expanding the roles of the temples inevitably requires a larger budget. The Temple of Vesta is already tasked with supporting orphans and widows."

"And you are looking to expand that role further," I said.

It seemed my timing was perfect. What I had come to propose to my father today was directly related to this very issue.

"Actually, father, I had something I wished to discuss with you."

I explained to both of them what Felix and I had discussed. The fact that far more stamps were being sold than letters were being sent, and my proposal to harness this phenomenon as a new source of funds for the temples.

"The temples selling officially sanctioned stamps? What exactly does that mean?"

"It’s simple. Currently, all stamps are sold for one as. We introduce stamps bearing divine symbols and temple insignia and sell them for two asses."

Hearing my explanation, both of them fell silent, considering the idea.

After a brief silence, Miria finally spoke.

"So you would donate the extra as to the temple that sanctions the stamp."

"Exactly."

It wasn’t a particularly complex concept. In the history I knew, countless charities had used similar methods to raise funds.

Logically speaking, there was no reason to buy a more expensive stamp. Since the postal service provided was identical, paying more made no sense.

However, to the average person, the difference between one as and two was little more than pocket change.

Furthermore, the official blessing of a temple added a layer of special significance.

"If someone is sending a letter wishing for a loved one’s speedy recovery, wouldn’t they want to use a stamp bearing the symbol of Asclepius or Apollo?"

Asclepius was a demigod revered in both Greece and Rome as the symbol of medicine and healing.

Apollo, too, was the god who both inflicted and cured diseases.

"And if someone were sending a letter wishing for success in business..."

"They would affix a stamp bearing the image of Mercury," Father said. "If the stamps are selling as rapidly as you say, this could indeed provide the temples with a substantial new source of revenue."

"I knew you would understand." I smiled.

Having the Pontifex Maximus as my father certainly made things convenient. A single, brief conversation was all it took to set a plan in motion.

However, my father’s expression remained calm. He exchanged a glance with Miria before turning back to me.

"I am afraid this plan will be difficult to implement, Lucius."

***

"May I ask why?"

"For some time now, the priests have been holding secret meetings behind my back. I do not know exactly what is being said, but I have a fairly good idea," Father said. "They intend to oppose my temple reforms. Or, at the very least, sabotage them."

"But if the reforms expand the roles of the temples, the priests will enjoy correspondingly greater auctoritas and dignitas." I frowned unconsciously.

Wasn’t that exactly what every Roman politician desired? To acquire greater auctoritas and dignitas?

"That is true. But a sweeping temple reform on this scale is unprecedented since the reign of King Numa. It is highly likely the priests are not plotting to oppose me, but are simply terrified."

King Numa.

Numa Pompilius was the second king of Rome.

He was the figure who had laid the foundations of Rome’s religious order through his reforms of Rome’s sacred rites and priesthoods.

"For temples to sanction stamps and appear to profit from them... they could easily be accused of exploiting the gods for financial gain. The priests will not accept it."

"But ultimately, those funds will be used for the benefit of the citizens," I argued.

The core of the plan my father and I had devised was to integrate the temples more closely into the daily lives of the citizens.

Just as the state treasury was housed in the Temple of Saturn and the Temple of Fortuna oversaw the lottery, the Temple of Mercury could oversee commerce.

The Temple of Asclepius could provide public medical aid...and the Temple of Neptune could oversee harbor affairs.

And the possibilities were practically endless. The Temple of Fides could notarize contracts, the Temple of Janus could manage the city gates, and the Temple of Neptune could serve as the port authority.

"As long as the money isn’t lining the priests’ pockets, the citizens won’t object. Besides, it isn’t a mandatory tax; the citizens will be purchasing the stamps voluntarily."

"You are correct. But once a dog has been frightened, even a bone tossed its way looks like a snake." father muttered, stroking his chin.

"..."

In the ensuing silence, I sank into thought. I knew father was right.

Even with his authority as Pontifex Maximus, he could not force through a reform of this magnitude entirely on his own.

We needed to make the priests step forward on their own.

"I will give it some more thought and find another way."

"You do not need to shoulder this burden alone. I’ll think of a way too. This idea with the stamps is too good to ignore."

"At times like this, I am truly glad the Pope is on my side."

I turned and began to leave the atrium. Behind me, I heard Miria ask in a teasing tone.

"Isn’t Lucius a bit too old to be calling his father Papa(Pope)?"

"Once a son, always a son."

Listening to their banter, I chuckled and headed home. Upon arriving, I was greeted by an unexpected guest.

"Lucius, you’re finally here! I thought I would die of old age waiting for you." Pompey said, clapping a hand on my shoulder as usual. He grabbed my arm and half-dragged me along. "There is something I prepared especially for you to see."

"Please tell me you didn’t prepare a painting of me."

I really didn’t want any more statues or paintings depicting me. I had more than enough already.

"A painting? What are you talking about?"

"It’s nothing."

Pompey tilted his head, then gestured to his slaves. I watched as the slaves dragged out a massive wooden board.

"As you well know the One-Year Plan includes one particularly important matter."

"One of them is granting settlement land to the veterans returning from the East." I said.

That was, after all, the primary reason Pompey had allied with Caesar in the first place: to secure the land he had promised his veterans.

"Well, yes, there is that." Pompey shrugged.

Hmm. So that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about.

"But there is also this."

I stared at the enormous wooden board. It was essentially a map, with various cities across Italy, including Rome, marked with large X’s.

"The gridiron matches!"

"Ah, that."

I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. I never imagined he was going to bring up football.

Ever since the Trojan Games, Pompey had developed a profound obsession with the game. He had practically begged to be appointed head of the organizing committee.

Eventually, my father and I had no choice but to hand it over to him.

"The preparatory committees from each city have already completed their training and returned home. Soon, we will be able to host the very first official matches." Pompey continued excitedly. "It will be a sporting event that binds Rome and Italy together."

I looked at the letters and numbers marked on the wooden board. He seemed to have prepared this quite thoroughly.

Sometimes, Pompey truly seemed more suited to being an administrator than a general.

He pointed at the board and continued his explanation.

"First, the gridiron teams formed in each city will compete locally. The victors will then advance, culminating in a grand final match right here in Rome."

I listened to Pompey’s explanation. The basic format was simple: first, each city would crown its strongest team; then, those teams would enter a tournament bracket to determine the ultimate champion.

"We should present it as a sacred contest offered to Jupiter Optimus Maximus. Your father has already agreed to it. What we need now, then, is..."

Pompey’s voice gradually faded into the background. I stared blankly at the massive map before me.

A board displaying the rankings of each city...

Rankings.

Yes, perhaps this could actually work.

The words slipped out of my mouth before I realized it.

"This is a truly brilliant plan."

"You think so?" Pompey asked with a wide smile. "Then we shall proceed exactly as planned. I will keep you updated if there are any new developments."

"Yes, of course."

After humoring Pompey for a while longer, I quickly headed to another location.

I needed to see Brutus and Pompeia.

I had a favor to ask of them.

Every morning in the Forum, the town criers were already delivering the latest updates.

What if we added one more element to that?

A massive board displaying rankings.

A leaderboard.

As father had said, ordering the temples directly was not a wise choice. But what if we created a situation where the temples, through their priests, stepped forward voluntarily

"This is going to be incredibly entertaining."

***

The next morning, the Forum was bustling with citizens, just as it always was. Workers and slaves heading to their daily tasks, people meeting acquaintances, peddlers hawking their wares—the forum and the surrounding streets were packed with people.

But the largest crowd by far had gathered around the town criers.

The criers in Caesar’s employ delivered fresh news every morning.

And recently, their updates were dominated by the One-Year Plan that was shaking Rome to its core.

For merchants, gathering in the Forum every morning to hear the criers had become a new daily routine.

Acquiring information about this massive new plan before anyone else meant seizing profitable opportunities before anyone else.

"Doesn’t seem like there’s any major news today."

"The Senate session only just ended. Things will probably be quiet for a while."

However, what captured their attention today was something else entirely.

Several massive wooden boards had been erected next to the town criers. Nailed to the boards were sheets of paper bearing the names of various temples.

"What is that? I’ve never seen it before."

"The Temple of Minerva, Juno, Mars, Vesta... Wait, it lists the names of every single temple in Rome?"

"What in the world is this?"

Next to the list of temples was a large blank column. Only one temple had anything written beside its name.

The Temple of Vesta.

"Look at this. It says the Temple of Vesta will significantly expand its support for widows and orphans."

"They even list the sums to be spent."

"Are they increasing support separate from the Veterans’ Fund? That’s wonderful news. I suppose the other temples are planning to expand their public aid as well."

"But why are the columns for all the other temples blank?"

"They’ll probably be filled in eventually. Why else would they set up a massive board like this?"

"Fair point."

And it wasn’t just the names of the temples listed. Beside each temple, the names of its affiliated priests were displayed.

As the citizens gazed at the boards and chatted with eager anticipation, there were those who were struck with sheer horror.

The priests of Rome—especially those of the Collegium Pontificum.

"They are publishing the temples’ reform initiatives in the Forum every single day?"

"Is he essentially establishing a public scoreboard to evaluate our achievements?!"

Before they were priests, they were senators—politicians vying for magistracies, including the consulship.

And now, a new field of competition had just been unveiled before their eyes.

"This is outrageous. We should go to the Pontifex Maximus and demand an explanation!"

"I apologize, but I must take my leave. I completely forgot about an urgent matter."

"Now that I think of it, I too have urgent matters to attend to..."

"Wait!"

As the priests practically sprinted back to their respective temples, the Great Temple Tournament officially began.