Emperor_ The Field Of Swords Part 11

Brutus paused for a moment, understanding what he was being asked to do.

"If I take the field without a Senate order, that could be the end of me, whether we bring victory or not," he said softly. "Are you sure you can trust Cra.s.sus not to betray you in this?"

Julius hesitated. It would be enough to finish them all if Cra.s.sus refused to repeat his accusations in the Senate house. The old man was subtle enough to have created the conspiracy simply to remove a few of his opponents. Cra.s.sus could be rid of his compet.i.tors, while remaining unstained by all of it.

Still, what choice did he have? He could not allow a rebellion to begin while he had the chance to stop it.

"I can't trust him, no, but no matter who is responsible for that gathering of soldiers, I cannot allow a threat to Rome. Arrest the men he has named before any more harm is done by waiting. I'll take the responsibility if I can get to you. If I am not there, it's your decision. Wait as long as you can."

Brutus led twenty of his best with Domitius to take Catiline at his own home. To his fury, they were delayed crucial moments as they broke through his outer gate. By the time they reached the private rooms, Catiline was warming his hands at a brazier filled with burning papers. The man seemed calm as he greeted the soldiers. His face was almost sculpted out of hard planes, and the breadth of his shoulders showed he was one who took care of his strength. Unusually for a senator, he wore a gladius at his side in an ornate scabbard.

Rus.h.i.+ng in, Brutus threw a jug of wine on the flames. As the wet smoke hissed out, he rammed his hand into the sodden ashes, but there was nothing left.

"Your master has overstepped the mark, gentlemen," Catiline remarked.

"My orders are to take you to the Curia, Senator, to answer charges of treason," Domitius told him.

Catiline let his right hand rest on the pommel of the gladius, and both Brutus and Domitius stiffened.

"If you touch that sword again, you will die right now," Brutus warned him softly, and Catiline's eyes opened wide under the heavy lids as he a.s.sessed the danger facing him.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Marcus Brutus of the Tenth."

"Well, Brutus, Consul Cra.s.sus is a good friend of mine, and when I am free, I will discuss this with you in more detail. Now do as you have been told and take me to the Senate."

Domitius put out a hand to hold the senator's arm, and Catiline knocked it aside, his temper showing through the false calm.

"Do not dare dare to put hands on me! I am a senator of Rome. When this is over, do not think I will forget the insults to my person. Your master will not always be able to protect you from the law." to put hands on me! I am a senator of Rome. When this is over, do not think I will forget the insults to my person. Your master will not always be able to protect you from the law."

Catiline swept out past them, his expression murderous. The soldiers of the Tenth formed up around him, exchanging worried glances. Domitius said nothing more as they reached the street, though he hoped for all their sakes that the other groups had found some proof with which to accuse the men. Without it, Julius could well have created his own destruction.

The road outside was heaving with the morning crowds, and Brutus had to use the flat of his sword to clear the way for them. The press was too great for the citizens to move away easily, and progress was slow. Brutus swore under his breath as they reached the first corner, and didn't sense the change in the crowd until it was almost too late.

The children and women had vanished and the soldiers of the Tenth were surrounded by hard-looking men. Brutus glanced back at Catiline. The senator's face had lit with triumph. Brutus felt himself shoved and hemmed in and, in a sickening flash of understanding, knew Catiline had been prepared for them.

"Defend yourselves!" Brutus roared. Even as he gave the order, he saw swords torn free from under cloaks and tunics as the crowd came alive with violence. Catiline's men had been hidden among the pa.s.sersby, waiting to free their leader. The street seethed with swords and screams as the first soldiers of the Tenth were caught unawares and cut down.

Brutus saw Catiline being drawn clear by his supporters and tried to grab him. It was impossible. Even as Brutus stretched out his arm, someone cut at it and he defended himself furiously. Pressed by bodies, he felt close to panic. Then he saw Domitius had cleared a b.l.o.o.d.y s.p.a.ce in the street and moved to his side.

The soldiers of the Tenth held their nerve, cutting Catiline's supporters down with the grim efficiency of their training. There were no weak men amongst them, but each was faced with two or three swords swinging wildly. For all the attackers' lack of skill, they fought with fanatical energy, and even the legionary armor could turn only a few of the blows.

Brutus grabbed a man by the throat with his left hand and jerked him into the path of two more, killing them with neat strokes as they struggled against each other. He felt his pounding heart settle then, giving him the chance to glance around him. He leaned back from a gladius aimed to cut through his sword arm and sent a riposte into the throat of the wielder. Throat and groin, the quickest deaths.

Brutus staggered as something hit him low in the back, and he felt one of the straps give on his chestplate, s.h.i.+fting the weight. He spun with the sword at a sharp angle to cut into another man's collarbone and drop him into the mess of filth and flesh at their feet. Blood spattered across him and he blinked quickly, looking for Catiline. The senator had gone.

"Clear this d.a.m.ned street, Tenth!" he shouted, and his men responded, cutting their way through. The heavy gladius blades chopped into the enemy, cutting limbs free as easily as a butcher's cleaver. With some of Catiline's men retreating with the senator, the numbers were thinning and the legionaries were able to isolate those remaining, ramming their blades over and over into the bodies to repay the insult of the attack in the only coin it deserved.

When it was done, the legionaries stood panting, their armor covered in dark blood that dripped slowly from the polished metal. One or two of them walked carefully to each of Catiline's men and thrust their swords in one last time to be sure.

Brutus wiped his gladius on a man he had killed and sheathed it carefully after checking the edge. There were no flaws on Cavallo's work.

Of the original twenty, only eleven of them stood, with two more dying. Without having to be ordered, Brutus saw his men lift their comrades up from the street and support them, exchanging a last few words as their lives bled away.

Brutus tried to concentrate. Catiline's men had been ready to steal him back from the Tenth. He could already be on the way to join the rebels, or they to him.

Brutus knew he had to make a decision quickly. His men watched him in silence, waiting for the word.

"Domitius, leave our wounded in the care of the nearest houses. Before you catch us up, take a message to Julius at the Senate. We can't wait for him now. The rest of you, run with me."

Without another word, Brutus broke into a fast jog, his men falling in behind him as quickly as they were able.

The Senate house was in chaos, as three hundred senators fought to shout over the others. The protests were loudest in the center of the floor as four of the men Julius had arrested were chained there, demanding proof of the accusations against them. The men had been resigned at first, but when they realized Catiline would not be dragged in to join them, their confidence quickly returned.

Pompey waited impatiently for silence and finally was forced to add his own voice to the din, bellowing over them.

"Take your seats and be still!" he roared at the men, glaring around. Those nearest to him sat quickly enough and the ripple that followed restored some semblance of order.

Pompey waited until the noise had sunk to whispers. He gripped the rostrum tightly, but before he could begin to address the unruly Senate, one of the four accused lifted his chains up in appeal.

"Consul, I demand our release. We have been dragged from our homes on-"

"Be silent, or I will have you gagged with iron," Pompey replied. He spoke quietly, but this time, his voice carried to the farthest reaches of the house. "You will have a chance to answer the charges Caesar has brought against you." He took a deep breath.

"Senators, these men are accused of a plot to create riots in the city leading to full-scale rebellion and an overturn of the power of this body, culminating in the murder of our officials. Those of you crying so loudly for justice would do well to consider the seriousness of these offenses. Be silent for Caesar, who accuses them."

As Julius walked toward the rostrum, he felt sweat break out on his skin. Where was Catiline? There had been enough time for Brutus to bring him with the others, but now Julius felt each step as a slow march to destruction. He had nothing except Cra.s.sus's word with which to attack the men or to a.s.suage his own doubts.

He faced the ranks of his colleagues, noting the rebellious expressions of many of them. Suetonius sat almost opposite with Bibilus. The two of them were practically quivering with interest at the proceedings. Cinna was there, his expression unreadable as he nodded to Julius. Since the death of his daughter, he had rarely been seen in the Senate. There could be no friends.h.i.+p between them, but Julius did not judge him an enemy. He wished he could be as sure about the other men of the Senate.

Julius took a calming breath as he arranged his thoughts. If he was wrong about any of it, it was all over for him. If Cra.s.sus had placed him at this point intending to leave him for the wolves, he faced disgrace and possibly even banishment.

Julius met Cra.s.sus's eyes, looking for a sign of triumph. The old man touched himself lightly on the chest and Julius gave no sign he had seen.

"I accuse these men and one other, by the name of Lucius Sergius Catiline, of treason against the city and her Senate," Julius began, the words echoing in the dead silence. The breath seemed to shudder out of him. There was no going back.

"I can confirm that an army has been a.s.sembled in towns north of the city, eight to ten thousand strong. With Catiline as their leader, they were to attack on the signal of fires set on the hills of Rome, coupled with general unrest. This was to have been fomented by supporters within the city."

Every eye turned on the four men who were chained at their feet. They stood together defiantly, glaring back. One of them shook his head as if in disbelief at Julius's words.

Before Julius could continue, a messenger in Senate livery ran to his side and handed up a wax tablet. Julius read it quickly, frowning.

"I have further news that the leader of these men has escaped those I sent to arrest him. I ask now for a Senate order to take the Tenth north against the brigands they have a.s.sembled. I must not delay here."

A senator stood slowly from the seated ranks. "What proof do you offer us?"

"My word and that of Cra.s.sus," Julius replied quickly, ignoring his own doubts. "It is the nature of a conspiracy not to leave too many traces, Senator. Catiline escaped by killing nine of my men. He approached Consul Cra.s.sus with these four before you, offering the death of Pompey and a new order in Rome. More will have to wait until I have dealt with the threat to the city."

Cra.s.sus stood then and Julius met his eyes, still unsure whether he could trust him. The consul looked down at the chained conspirators in front of him, and his expression showed a deep anger.

"I name Catiline as traitor."

Julius felt a great wave of relief as Cra.s.sus spoke. Whatever the old man was doing, at least he was not the one to fall. Cra.s.sus glanced over at him before continuing and Julius wondered how much the man understood of his thoughts.

"As consul, I give my consent for the Tenth to leave Rome and take the field. Pompey?"

Pompey rose, his glance snapping to each man in turn. He too could feel there was more to the story than he was being told, but after a long pause, he nodded.

"Go then. I will trust the need is as great as I am told, Julius. My own legion will guard against a rebellion in the city. However, these men you call conspirators will not be sentenced until you return and I am satisfied the issue is clear. I will question them myself."

A storm of whispering broke out on the benches at this terse exchange, and the three men took silent stock of each other's positions. There was no give in any of them.

Cra.s.sus broke first and called for a scribe to write the order, handing it into Julius's hands as he came down from the rostrum.

"Do your duty and you will be safe," he murmured.

Julius stared at him for a moment before hurrying out into the forum.

CHAPTER 12.

Brutus rode with his extraordinarii at the head of the Tenth, covering many times the distance of the marching ranks as they scouted ahead and to the sides of the column. Of necessity, they were north and west of the city as the bulk of the legion had to be summoned from the camp near the coast and made their way across country to meet the single century Brutus had brought from the old Primigenia barracks.

When they had joined, some of the nerves that had affected Brutus vanished in the excitement of leading the legion against an enemy for the first time. Though he hoped to see Julius coming up behind them, another part of him wanted to be left alone to lead them in battle. His extraordinarii wheeled at his order as if they had fought together for years. Brutus reveled in the sight and felt more than a little reluctance at the thought of giving it up to anyone.

Renius had stayed at the coast with five centuries to protect the equipment and gold from Spain. It had to be done, but Brutus begrudged every man lost while the numbers of the enemy were unknown. As he cast a professional eye back down the column, he felt a thrill of pride at the men who marched for him. They had started with nothing more than a gold eagle and a memory of Marius, but were once again a legion, and they were his.

He cast an eye up to the position of the sun and remembered the maps his scouts had drawn. Catiline's forces were more than a day's march away from the city, and he would have to decide whether to make a fortified camp or to march through the night. The Tenth were undoubtedly as fresh as they could ever hope to be, long recovered from the sea journey that had brought them home. As well as that, a rebellious thought reminded him that Julius would be able to catch them if they camped and the command would s.h.i.+ft to him once more. The broken ground would be treacherous in the dark, but Brutus resolved to drive his men on until they met the enemy.

The region of Etruria, of which Rome formed the southernmost point, was a land of hills and ravines, difficult to cross. The Tenth were forced to spread into wider lines to negotiate their way around ancient tors and valleys, and Brutus was pleased to see the formations change with speed and discipline.

Octavian galloped across his line of vision, turning his gelding in a flashy display of skill as he came abreast.

"How much farther?" he called over the jingle and tramp of the ranks.

"Another thirty miles to the villages we scouted," Brutus replied, smiling. He could see the excitement he felt mirrored in Octavian's face. The boy had never known a battle, and for him the march was untempered by thoughts of death and pain. Brutus should have been immune, but the Tenth shone in the sun and the boy he had once been reveled in command.

"Take a century to scout the back trail," Brutus ordered, ignoring the look of disappointment that flashed across the younger man's face. It was hard on him, but Brutus knew better than to allow Octavian the first charge before he had learned a little more of the reality of battle.

He watched as Octavian gathered riders and moved in perfect formation to the rear of the column. Brutus nodded in satisfaction, taking pleasure from the chance to think as a general.

He remembered how, years before, he had handed Primigenia over to Julius, and a bitter regret stole over him before he crushed it. The command he exercised was only a proxy until Julius arrived, but he knew the moments of this march would stay in his memory for a long time.

One of the scouts came in fast, the horse skidding in the loose earth as the rider yanked on the reins. The man's face was pale with excitement.

"The enemy is in sight, sir. They are marching toward Rome."

"How many?" Brutus snapped, his heart racing.

"Two legions of irregulars, sir, in open squares. No cavalry that I could see."

A shout went up from behind and Brutus turned in his saddle with a feeling almost of dread. Behind the column, two riders galloped toward them. He knew then that Domitius had done his duty and brought Julius to the Tenth. He clenched his jaw against the anger that swamped him.

He turned to the scout and hesitated. Should he wait for Julius to arrive and take command? No, he would not. The order was his to give and he took a cool breath.

"Pa.s.s the word. Advance and engage the enemy. Have the cornicens sound maniple orders. Velites on point to meet them. Extraordinarii to the flanks. We'll break these b.a.s.t.a.r.ds on the first charge."

The scout saluted before galloping away and Brutus felt empty as he watched the dust cloud that promised blood and battle. Julius would take them in now.

As they sighted the legion coming at them, the ranks of mercenaries wavered and slowed. The Tenth were sliding over the land toward them like some great silvered beast, and the ground s.h.i.+vered delicately with the cadence of their march. A host of flags had been raised into the wind, and the wail of the cornicens could be heard thinly against the breeze.

Four thousand of those who had come for Catiline's gold were from Gaul, and their leader turned to the Roman, resting a powerful hand on his shoulder.

"You said the way to the city would be undefended," he growled.

Catiline shook the hand free. "We have the numbers to take them, Glavis," he snapped. "You knew it would be b.l.o.o.d.y work."

The Gaul nodded, squinting through the dust to the Roman ranks. His teeth showed through his beard as he pulled a heavy sword from a scabbard across his back, grunting as he took the weight. All around him, his men followed the gesture, until a host of blades were raised above their heads to meet the charge.

"Just this little legion, then, and one more in the city. We'll eat them," Glavis promised, tilting back his head to roar. The Gauls around him responded and the front ranks separated and moved faster, sprinting across the broken ground.

Catiline drew his own gladius and wiped sweat from his eyes. His heart pounded with unaccustomed fear and he wondered if the Gaul had seen it. He shook his head in bitterness and cursed Cra.s.sus for his lies. There may have been a chance to take Rome in confusion and panic and the dark, but a legion in the field?

"We have the numbers," he whispered to himself, swallowing hard. Ahead of him, he saw a flowing ma.s.s of horses overtake the ranks. The ground shook with the weight of the charge, and Catiline suddenly believed he was going to die. In that moment, his fear vanished and his feet were light as he ran.

Julius took command without hesitation as he rode his lathered mount up to Brutus. He handed over the wax tablet signed by the consuls.

"Now we are legitimate. You have given the battle orders?"

"I have," Brutus replied. He tried to hide the coldness he felt, but Julius was looking away from him, judging the line of approach to the rebel forces.

"The extraordinarii are ready on the flanks," Brutus said. "I would like to join them there."