Emperor_ The Field Of Swords Part 18

Julius laid a hand on his arm.

"I have taken men from Africa and Greece and made them soldiers, Cra.s.sus. I will do more with those of Roman blood. Catiline saw a weakness we must remove if Rome is to thrive with your trade, don't you think? The city needs good men on the walls above all else."

Cra.s.sus flushed. "I may? not be the man to lead them, Caesar," he said through clenched teeth.

Julius could imagine what it had cost him to make the admission in front of Pompey, but he snorted in reply, "Neither was I until Marius and Renius and, yes, Pompey showed me how, by example and by training. No man leaps full-grown into that role, Cra.s.sus. I will be with you in the first steps, and Pompey will always be there. He knows Rome needs a second legion for protection. I doubt he would want anything less in a city that answers to him."

Both of them looked to Pompey and he answered immediately.

"Whatever you need, Cra.s.sus. There is truth in what he says." Before they could do more than smile, Pompey went on, "You paint a pretty picture for us, Julius. Cra.s.sus with his trade, I with a bride and the city I love. But you have not told us the price for this generosity. Say it now."

Cra.s.sus interrupted, "I will accept these terms, with two additions. A license for five years, not two, and my eldest son, Publius, is to be taken into the Tenth as an officer, a tribune. I am an old man, Julius. My son will lead this new legion after me."

"I can agree to that," Julius said.

Pompey cleared his throat impatiently. "But what do you you want, Caesar?" want, Caesar?"

Julius rubbed his eyes again. He had not considered binding his family to Pompey's line, but his daughter would rise in one stroke to the highest social rank in Rome. It was a fair bargain. Pompey and Cra.s.sus were both too old in politics to refuse such an arrangement, and what he offered was a world better than the misery of losing their power and influence, even in part. Julius knew the addictive nature of command. There was no greater satisfaction than to lead. When he looked up at them, his eyes were bright and sharp.

"When my six months are up in the city and the laws I want have been added to the rolls, then it is simple. I want to take my two legions out to new lands. I will give my proxy to Pompey and I want you both to sign orders giving me complete freedom to levy soldiers, strike bargains, and make laws in the name of Rome. I will not report back unless I see fit. I will answer to no man but myself."

"Will that be legal?" Cra.s.sus asked.

Pompey nodded. "If I have the consul's proxy, it will. There is some precedent." Pompey frowned in thought. "Where will you take these legions, to do this?" he asked.

Julius grinned, carried away by his own enthusiasm. How he had argued with his friends over the destination! Yet in the end, there had been only one choice. Alexander had gone east and that path was well trodden. He would go west.

"I want the wild land, gentlemen," he said. "I want Gaul."

In full armor, Julius strode through the night, heading toward Bibilus's home. Pompey and Cra.s.sus believed he knew some way to muzzle his co-consul, but the truth was he had no clear idea of how to prevent Bibilus and Suetonius from making a mockery of all their plans.

Julius clenched his fists as he walked. He had given up his daughter and pledged time and money and power to Pompey and Cra.s.sus. In return, he would have a freedom greater than any Roman general in the city's history. Scipio Africa.n.u.s had not had the range of powers Julius would have in Gaul. Even Marius had answered to the Senate. Julius knew he would not let such a thing fall from his hands because of one man, no matter what he had to do.

The crowds parted for him as he swept through. Those who recognized him fell silent. The new consul's expression forbade any attempt to greet or congratulate him, and more than a few wondered what news could have so angered a man on the very day of his election.

Julius left them murmuring in his wake as he approached the great gates and columns of Bibilus's house. His resolve hardened as he raised his fist to hammer on the oak door. He would not be denied this last step.

The slave that answered the summons was a youth whose face was heavily painted, giving him a lascivious expression even as he recognized the visitor and his eyes opened in surprise.

"I am a consul of Rome. You know the law?"

The slave nodded, terrified.

"Then bar no door to me. Touch my sleeve and you will die. I have come to see your master. Lead me in."

"C-Consul?"

The young man tried to drop to one knee and Julius snapped at him.

"Now!"

The painted boy needed no other urging. He turned and almost ran from Julius, leaving the door to the street swinging behind them.

Julius marched behind, pa.s.sing through rooms where a dozen similarly painted children watched, frozen as he pa.s.sed. One or two of them cried out in amazement and Julius glared at them. Were there no adults in this place? The way they were dressed reminded him more of Servilia's wh.o.r.es than?

He almost lost the boy slave around a corner as the thought came to him. Then he hurried and the slave increased his speed through antechambers and corridors until they burst together into a lighted room.

"Master!" the young man cried out. "Consul Caesar is here!"

Julius paused, panting slightly with the anger that coursed through his veins. Bibilus was there in the room and Suetonius stood bent over him, whispering into his ear. More of the pretty slaves were standing at the edges, and two naked boys lolled at the feet of the two men. Julius saw their faces were flushed with wine and their eyes were older than their flesh. He shuddered as he turned his face to Suetonius.

"Get out," he said.

Suetonius had risen slowly as if in a trance at Julius's entrance. He was ugly with malice as he struggled with conflicting emotions. A consul could not be touched, could not be held. Even Suetonius's position in the Senate would not save him after an insult.

Casually, Julius dropped his hand to his sword. He knew Bibilus would be weaker without his friend. Julius had known that even when he had not had a lever to twist into the fat man's innards. Now he had found one.

As Suetonius looked to Bibilus for a reprieve, he found nothing but terror in the consul's fleshy face. Suetonius heard Julius march across the marble floor and still he delayed, waiting for the single word that would allow him to stay.

Bibilus watched like a child with a snake as Julius came close to Suetonius and leaned in toward him. Suetonius shrank back.

"Get out," Julius repeated softly, and Suetonius fled.

As Julius turned to Bibilus, the consul found a stammering voice.

"This is my h-home?" he attempted.

Julius roared at him, a crash of sound that sent Bibilus scrambling backwards on his couch.

"You filth! You dare to talk to me with these children sitting at your feet! If I killed you now, it would be a blessing for Rome. No, better, I should cut off the last thing that makes you a man. I will do it, now."

Drawing his sword, Julius advanced on the couch and Bibilus screamed, clawing at the cloth to try to get away. He wept heavy tears as Julius held the gleaming blade next to his groin.

Bibilus froze. "Please," he whimpered.

Julius twisted the blade, worrying it deeper into the folds of cloth. Bibilus pressed himself against the back of the couch but could retreat no farther.

"Please, whatever you want?" He began a series of choking sobs that added s.h.i.+ning mucus to his tears until his face was barely human.

Julius knew the Fates had given everything into his hands. The coldest part of him rejoiced in Bibilus revealing such a weakness. A few choice threats and the man would never dare show his face in the Senate again. Yet even as Julius began to speak, one of the children s.h.i.+fted and Julius glanced at him. The boy was not looking at Julius, but at his master, craning to get a better view. There was hatred there, horrifying in such a young face. The boy's ribs could be clearly seen and his neck bore a purple bruise. Julius realized his daughter was the same age. He turned his anger on Bibilus.

"Sell your slaves. Sell them where they will not be hurt, and send me the addresses, that I may check each one. You will live alone, if if I let you live at all." I let you live at all."

Bibilus nodded, his jowls quivering. "Yes, yes, I will? don't cut cut me." He broke down again into a stream of miserable sound, and Julius struck him twice across the face, rocking his head back. A thin stream of blood dribbled down across his lips, and he shook visibly. me." He broke down again into a stream of miserable sound, and Julius struck him twice across the face, rocking his head back. A thin stream of blood dribbled down across his lips, and he shook visibly.

"If I see you in the Senate, your immunity will not protect you, I swear by all the G.o.ds. I will see to it that you are taken somewhere quiet and burnt and broken over days. You will beg for an end to it."

"But I am consul!" Bibilus choked.

Julius leaned in with the sword tip, making him gasp.

"Only in name. I will not have a man like you in my Senate house. Never in this life. Your time there is over."

"Can he hurt me now?" the slave boy asked suddenly.

Julius looked at him and saw that he had risen to his feet. He shook his head.

"Then give me a knife. I'll I'll cut him," the boy said. cut him," the boy said.

Julius looked into his eyes and saw nothing but resolve.

"You'll be killed if you do," Julius said softly.

The boy shrugged. "Worth it," he said. "Give me a blade and I'll do it."

Bibilus opened his mouth and Julius twisted the gladius viciously.

"You be quiet. There are men talking here. You've no part in it." He turned back to the slave and saw the way he stood a little straighter at the words.

"I won't stop you, lad, if you want it, but he's more use to me alive than dead. At least for now." A corpse would mean another election and a new adversary who might not have Bibilus's weaknesses. Yet Julius did not send the boy away.

"You want him alive?" the child said.

Julius returned the gaze for a long moment before nodding.

"All right, but I want to leave here tonight."

"I can find you a place, lad. You have my grat.i.tude."

"Not just me. All of us. No more nights here."

Julius looked at him in surprise. "All of you?"

"All of us," the slave said, holding his eyes without the slightest tremor. Julius looked away first.

"Very well, boy. Gather them at the front door. Leave me alone with Bibilus for a little while longer and I'll come to you."

"Thank you, sir," the boy said. In a few moments, all the children in the room had vanished with him, and the only sound was Bibilus's tortured breathing.

"How d-did you find out?" Bibilus whispered.

"Until I saw them, I did not know you for what you are. Even if I had not, you are greasy with guilt." Julius growled, "Remember, I will know if you bring more children into your home. If I hear of a single boy or girl coming through your doors, I will know and I will not hold back from you. Do you understand me? The Senate is mine now. Completely."

At the last word, Julius jerked his blade and Bibilus screamed, releasing his bladder in terror. Moaning, he clutched at the spreading stain of urine tinged with blood. Julius sheathed the sword and headed back to the front, where more than thirty of the slaves had gathered.

Each one of the refugees held a few items of clothing bundled in their arms. Their eyes were large and fearful in the light of the lamps, and the silence was almost painful as they all turned to look at him.

"All right. Tonight you'll stay in my own home," Julius said. "I'll find you families who have lost a child and who will love you." The happiness in their expression shamed him worse than knives. He had not come to the house for them.

CHAPTER 21.

The summer had come and gone with its long, busy days, but winter was still far off as Julius mounted his horse at the Quirinal gate, ready to join the legions in the Campus. He looked around him as he took the reins, trying to fix this last picture of the city in his mind. Who knew how long it would have to sustain him in distant Gaul? Those travelers and merchants who had been to the small Roman camp at the far foot of the Alps said it was a bitter place, colder than any they had known. Julius had punished his lines of credit for furs and provisions for ten thousand soldiers. Eventually, he knew there would have to be a reckoning, but he did not allow the thought of debt to spoil the final moments in his city.

The Quirinal gate was open and Julius could see the Campus Martius through it, with his soldiers waiting patiently in s.h.i.+ning squares. Julius doubted there was a legion anywhere to equal the Tenth, and Brutus had worked hard to make something greater out of the men he had conscripted. Not one of them had been allowed leave in almost a year, and they had used their time well. Julius was pleased with the name Brutus had chosen for them. The Third Gallica would be hardened in the land for which they had been named.

Brutus and Octavian mounted up beside him, while Domitius checked his saddle straps for tightness one last time. Julius smiled to himself at their silver armor. All three men had earned the right to wear it, but they made an unusual sight in the streets by the gate and already there was a crowd of urchins come to point and gawk at them. As well they might. Every part of their armor shone as brightly as polish and cloths could make them, and Julius felt a thrill at riding for Rome with these men.

If Salomin had come with them, it would have been perfect, Julius thought. It was just one more nagging regret in a sea of them that he had not been able to persuade the little fighter to make the trip to Gaul. Salomin had spoken for a long time about Roman honor, and Julius had listened. It was all he could offer after Pompey's shameful treatment of him, but he had not pressed him after the first refusal.

The months in Senate had exceeded Julius's hopes, and the triumvirate was holding better than he had any right to expect. Cra.s.sus had begun his domination of trade and his great fleet already rivaled anything Carthage had ever put to sea. His fledgling legion had been hammered into some sort of shape by the best officers in the Tenth, and Pompey would continue that work when they were gone. The three men had developed a grudging respect for each other in their months together, and Julius did not regret the bargain he had struck with them.

After the night of the election, Bibilus had not been seen in the Senate house for a single meeting. Rumors of a long-term illness had spread through the city, but Julius maintained his silence about what had happened. He had kept his promises to the children, sending them to be raised in loving families far in the north. His private shame at profiting from their distress had prompted him to buy them free, though it bled his funds even whiter on top of everything else. Strangely, that simple act had given him more satisfaction than almost anything else in his months as consul.

"Brutus!" a voice called, shattering the moment.

Julius turned his horse in a tight circle and Brutus laughed aloud at the sight of Alexandria struggling through the crowds to the gate. As she reached him, she stood on tiptoe to be kissed, but Brutus reached down and heaved her into the saddle. Julius looked away, not that they would have noticed. It was difficult not to think of Servilia as he saw their happiness together.

When Alexandria was lowered to the road, Julius noticed she carried a cloth package. He raised his eyebrows as she held it out for him, blus.h.i.+ng with embarra.s.sment from the embrace he had witnessed. Julius took the bundle and unwrapped it slowly, his eyes widening as he revealed a helmet worked with extraordinary skill. It was polished iron and s.h.i.+ning with oil, but the strangest thing was the full face of it, shaped to resemble his own features.

Reverently, Julius lifted it above his head and then lowered it, pressing the hinged face back until it clicked. It fitted like a second skin. The eyes were large enough to see out easily, and he knew from the reactions of his companions that it achieved the effect Alexandria had wanted.

"It has a cold expression," Octavian murmured, gazing at him.

Brutus nodded and Alexandria reached up to Julius's saddle to speak privately to him.

"I thought it would protect your head better than the one you usually wear. There is a slide on the top for a plume, if you want one. There is nothing like it in Rome."

Julius looked out through the iron mask at her, wis.h.i.+ng for one painful moment that she was his and not his friend's.

"It is perfect," he said. "Thank you." He reached down and hugged her, smelling the rich scent she used. An impulse struck him then and he removed the helmet as she stood back, his face flushed with more than just the heat. The legion would wait a little longer, after all. Perhaps there was still time to visit Servilia before he left.

"Alexandria, I must ask you to excuse us," Julius said. "Gentlemen? I have an errand to run in the city before we join the men."

Domitius vaulted into his saddle as an answer and the other two formed up. Alexandria blew a kiss to Brutus as Julius dug his heels into the horse's flanks and they trotted down the road, the crowd scattering before them.

As they neared Servilia's house, Brutus lost some of the glow Alexandria had imparted. If anything, he was relieved that the relations.h.i.+p between Julius and his mother had ended. But now, seeing his friend's eager expression, he groaned inwardly. He should have known Julius wouldn't give up so easily.

"Are you sure?" Brutus asked him as they dismounted at the door and pa.s.sed the horses into the hands of her slaves.

"I am," Julius replied, striding in.