The Gates of Rome Read online

  "Gaius?" Marcus's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Come and have a massage. You're thinking too much again."

  Gaius grinned at his friend and rose from the water. It did not occur to him to be embarrassed at his nakedness. No one was.

  "Cabera? Ever had a massage?" he asked as he passed the old man, whose eyes were drooping.

  "No, but I'll try anything once," Cabera replied, wading toward the steps.

  "You're in the right city then," Tubruk said with a chuckle, eyes closed.

  Clean and cool in fresh clothes and with the edge taken off their hunger, the four were escorted to Marius at sundown. As a slave, Alexandria did not accompany them, and for a moment Gaius was disappointed. When she was with them, he hardly knew what to say to her, but when she was gone his mind filled with clever pieces of wit that he could never quite remember to say later. He had not brought up the kiss in the stables with her and wondered if she thought of it as often as he did. He cleared his mind of her, knowing he had to be sharp and focused to meet a consul of Rome.

  A portly slave stopped them outside the door to the chamber and fussed with their clothing, producing a carved ivory comb to pull Marcus's curls back into place and straightening Tubruk's jacket. As the fleshy fingers approached Cabera, the old man's hands shot out and slapped them away.

  "Don't touch!" he snapped waspishly.

  The slave's face remained blank and he carried on improving the others. At last he was satisfied, although he permitted himself a frown at Cabera.

  "The master and mistress are present this evening. Bow first to the master as you present yourselves, and keep your eyes on the floor as you bow. Then bow to Mistress Metella, an inch or two less deep. If your barbarian slave requires it, he can knock his head on the floor a few times as well."

  Cabera opened his mouth to retort, but the slave turned away and pushed the doors open.

  Gaius entered first and saw a beautiful room with a garden in the center, open to the sky. Around the rectangle of the garden was a walkway, with other rooms leading off it. Columns of white stone held the overhang of roof, and the walls were painted with scenes from Roman history: the victories of Scipio, the conquest of Greece. Marius and his wife, Metella, stood to receive their guests, and Gaius forced a smile onto his face, suddenly feeling very young and very awkward.

  As he approached, he could see the man sizing him up and wondered what conclusions he was drawing. For his own part, Marius was an impressive figure. General of a hundred campaigns, he wore a loose toga that left his right arm and shoulder bare, revealing massive musculature and a dark weave of hair on the chest and forearms. He wore no jewelry or adornment of any kind, as if such things were unnecessary to a man of his stature. He stood straight and radiated strength and will. His face was stern and dark brown eyes glared out from under heavy brows. Every feature revealed the city of his birth. His arms were clasped behind him and he said nothing as Gaius approached and bowed.

  Metella had once been a beauty, but time and worry had clawed at her face, lines of some nameless grief gripping her skin with an old woman's talons. She seemed tense, the cords of sinew on her neck standing out. Her hands quivered slightly as she looked at him. She wore a simple dress of red cloth, complemented with earrings and bracelets of bright gold.

  "My sister's son is always welcome in my house," Marius said, his voice filling the space.

  Gaius almost sagged with relief, but held himself firm.

  Marcus came up beside him and bowed smoothly. Metella locked eyes with him and the quivering in her hands increased. Gaius caught Marius's sideways glance of worry at her as she stepped forward.

  "Such beautiful boys," she said, holding out her hands. Bemused, they took one each. "What you have suffered in the uprising! What you have seen!"

  She put a hand to Marcus's cheek. "You will be safe here, do you understand? Our home is your home, for as long as you want."

  Marcus put his hand up to cover hers and whispered, "Thank you." He seemed more comfortable with the strange woman than Gaius was. Her intensity reminded him too painfully of his own mother.

  "Perhaps you could check on the arrangements for the meal, my dear, while I discuss business with the boys," Marius boomed cheerfully from behind them.

  She nodded and left, with a backward glance at Marcus.

  Marius cleared his throat. "I think my wife likes you," he said. "The gods have not blessed us with children of our own, and I think you will bring her comfort."

  His gaze passed over them.

  "Tubruk—I see you are still the concerned guardian. I heard you fought well in the defense of my sister's house."

  "I did my duty, sir. It was not enough in the end."

  "The son lives, and his mother. Julius would say that was enough," Marius replied. At this, his eyes returned to Gaius.

  "I can see your father's face in yours. I am sorry for his leaving. I cannot say we were truly friends, but we had respect for each other, which is more honest than many friendships. I could not attend his funeral, but he was in my thoughts and prayers."

  Gaius felt the beginnings of liking for this man. Perhaps that is his talent, warned an inner voice. Perhaps that is why he has been elected so many times. He is a man whom others follow.

  "Thank you. He always spoke well of you," he replied out loud.

  Marius laughed, a short bark. "I doubt it. How is your mother, is she... the same?"

  "Much the same, sir. The doctors despair."

  Marius nodded, his face betraying nothing. "You must call me Uncle from now on, I think. Yes. Uncle suits me well. And you, who is this?" Once again, his eyes and focus had switched without warning, this time to Cabera, who looked back impassively.

  "He is a priest and healer, my adviser. Cabera is his name," Gaius replied.

  "Where are you from, Cabera? Those are not Roman features."

  "The distant east, sir. My home is not known in Rome."

  "Try me. I have traveled far with my legion in my lifetime." Marius did not blink, his gaze was relentless.

  Cabera didn't seem perturbed by it. "A hill village a thousand miles east of Aegyptus. I left it as a boy and the name is lost to me. I too have traveled far since then."

  The flame gaze snapped away as Marius lost interest. He looked again at the two boys.

  "My house is your home from now on. I presume Tubruk will be returning to your estate?"

  Gaius nodded.

  "Good. I will arrange your entrance to the Senate as soon as I have sorted out a few problems of my own. Do you know Sulla?"

  Gaius was painfully aware that he was being assessed. "He controls Rome at present."

  Marius frowned, but Gaius went on: "His legion patrols the streets and that gives him a great deal of influence."

  "You are correct. I see living on a farm hasn't kept you completely away from the affairs of the city. Come and sit down. Do you drink wine? No? Then this is as good a time as any to learn."

  As they sat on couches around the food-laden table, Marius bowed his head and began to pray aloud: "Great Mars, grant that I make the right decisions in the difficult days to come." He straightened and grinned at them, motioning for a slave to pour wine.

  "Your father could have been a great general if he had wanted," Marius said. "He had the sharpest mind I have ever encountered, but chose to keep his interests small. He did not understand the reality of power—that a strong man can be above the rules and laws of his neighbors."

  "He set great stock by the laws of Rome," Gaius replied, after a moment's thought.

  "Yes. It was his one failing. Do you know how many times I have been elected consul?"

  "Three," Marcus put in.

  "Yet the law only allows one term. I shall be elected again and again until I grow tired of the game. I am a dangerous man to refuse, you see. It comes down to that, for all the laws and regulations that are so dear to the old men of the Senate. My legion is loyal to me and me alone. I abolished the land qualification
to join, so many of them owe their only livelihood to me. True, some of them are the scrapings of the gutters of Rome, but loyal and strong despite their origins and birth.

  "Five thousand men would tear this city apart if I were assassinated, so I walk the streets in safety. They know what will happen if I die, do you see?

  "If they can't kill me, they have to accommodate me, except that Sulla has finally come into the game, with a legion of his own, loyal only to him. I can't kill him and he can't kill me, so we growl at each other across the Senate floor and wait for a weakness. At present, he has the advantage. His men are in the streets, as you say, whereas mine are camped outside the walls. Stalemate. Do you play latrunculi? I have a board here."

  This last question was to Gaius, who blinked and shook his head.

  "I will teach you. Sulla is a master, and so am I. It is a good game for generals. The idea is to kill the enemy king, or to remove his power so that he is helpless and must surrender."

  A soldier entered in full, shining uniform. He saluted with a stiff right arm.

  "General. The men you requested have arrived. They entered the city from different directions and gathered here."

  "Excellent! You see, Gaius, another move in the game is upon us. Fifty of my men are with me in my home. Unless Sulla has spies on every gate, he will not know they have entered the city. If he guesses my intentions, there will be a century from his legion waiting outside at daybreak, but all life is a gamble, yes?"

  He addressed the guard. "We will leave at dawn. Make sure my slaves look after the men. I will come along in a while."

  The soldier saluted again and left.

  "What are you going to do?" Marcus asked, feeling completely out of his depth.

  Marius rose and flexed his shoulders. He called a slave over and told him to prepare his uniform, ready for dawn.

  "Have you ever seen a Triumph?"

  "No. I don't think there has been one for a few years," Gaius replied.

  "It is the right of every general who has captured new lands: to march his legion through the streets of his beloved capital city and receive the love of the crowd and the thanks of the Senate.

  "I have captured vast tracts of lush farming land in northern Africa, like Scipio before me. Yet a Triumph has been denied me by Sulla, who has the Senate under his thumb at the moment. He says the city has seen too much upheaval, but that is not the reason. What is his reason?"

  "He does not want your men in the city, under any pretext," Gaius said quickly.

  "Good, so what must I do?"

  "Bring them in anyway?" Gaius hazarded.

  Marius froze. "No. This is my beloved capital city. It has never had a hostile force enter its gates. I will not be the first. That is blind force, which is always chancy. No, I am going to ask! Dawn is in six hours. I suggest you get a little sleep, gentlemen. Just let one of the slaves know when you want to be taken to your rooms. Good night." He chuckled and strode off, leaving the four of them alone.

  "He—" Cabera began, but Tubruk held up a warning finger, motioning with his eyes at the slaves who stood by so unobtrusively.

  "Life will not be dull here," Cabera said quietly. Both Marcus and Gaius nodded and grinned at each other.

  "I'd like to see him 'ask,'" Marcus said.

  Tubruk shook his head quickly. "Too dangerous. There will certainly be bloodshed, and I have not brought you to Rome to see you killed the first day! If I had known Marius planned something of this sort, I would have delayed."

  Gaius put a hand on the man's arm. "You have been a good protector, Tubruk, but I too want to see this. We will not be refused in this."

  His voice was quiet, but Tubruk stared as if Gaius had shouted. Then he relaxed.

  "Your father was never this foolhardy, but if you are set, and Marius agrees, I will come along to watch your back, as I have always done. Cabera?"

  "Where else would I go? I still wander the same path as you."

  Tubruk nodded. "Dawn, then. I suggest you rise at least an hour or two before daybreak, for stretching exercises and a light breakfast." He rose and bowed to Gaius. "Sir?"

  "You may leave, Tubruk," Gaius said, his face straight.

  Tubruk left.

  Marcus raised an eyebrow, but Gaius ignored him. They were not in private and could not enjoy the casual relationship of the estate. Kin or not, Marius's house was not a place to relax. Tubruk had reminded them of this in his formal style.

  Marcus and Cabera departed soon after, leaving Gaius to his thoughts. He lay back on a couch and stared at the night stars over the open garden.

  He felt his eyes fill. His father was gone and he was stuck with strangers. Everything was new and different and overwhelming. Every word had to be considered before it left his mouth; every decision had to be judged. It was exhausting, and, not for the first time, he wished he were a child again, without responsibility. He had always been able to turn to others when he made mistakes, but whom could he turn to now? He wondered if his father or Tubruk had ever felt as lost as he did. It didn't seem possible that they knew the same fears. Perhaps everyone had them, but hid their worries from others.

  When he was calm again, he rose in the darkness and walked silently out of the room, barely admitting his destination to himself. The corridors were silent and seemed deserted, but he had walked only a few paces before a guard stepped toward him and spoke.

  "Can I help you, sir?"

  Gaius started. Of course Marius would have guards around his house and gardens.

  "I brought a slave in with me today. I would like to check on her before I sleep."

  "I understand, sir," the guard replied, with a small smile. "I'll show you the way to the slave quarters."

  Gaius gritted his teeth. He knew what the man was thinking, but speaking again would only worsen his suspicions. He followed in silence until they came to a heavy door at the end of the passage. The soldier knocked quietly and they waited for just a few moments before it opened.

  A senior female glared at the guard. Her hair was graying and her face quickly set into disapproving lines, clearly a common expression with her.

  "What do you want, Thomas? Lucy is asleep and I've told you before—"

  "It's not for me. This young man is Marius's nephew. He brought a girl in with him today?"

  The woman's manner changed as she perceived Gaius, who was shaking his head in painful silence, wondering how public things were going to get.

  "Alexandria, wasn't it? Beautiful girl. My name is Carla. I'll show you to her room. Most of the slaves are asleep by now, so tread quietly, if you please." She beckoned for Gaius to follow and he did so, neck and back stiff with embarrassment. He could feel Thomas's eyes on his back before the door closed gently behind him.

  This part of Marius's house was plain but clean. A long corridor was lined with closed doors, and there were small candles in holders along the walls at intervals. Only a few were lit, but enough light was shed for Gaius to see where they were going.

  Carla's voice was lowered to a harsh whisper as she turned to him. "Most of the slaves sleep in a few large rooms, but your girl was put in one of her own that we keep for favored ones. You said to treat her kindly, is that true?"

  Gaius blushed. He had forgotten the interest that Marius's slaves would take in Alexandria and himself. It would be all over the house by the morning that he had visited her in the night.

  They turned a final corner and Gaius froze in astonishment. The final door of the corridor was open, and against the low light from within, he could see Alexandria standing there, beautiful in the flickering candlelight. She alone would have caused him to take a quick breath, but there was someone with her, leaning against the wall in the shadows.

  Carla darted forward and they both recognized Marcus at the same time. For his part, he seemed just as surprised to see them.

  "How did you get in here?" Carla asked, her voice strained.

  Marcus blinked. "I crept about the place. I didn't
want to wake everyone up," he answered.

  Gaius looked at Alexandria and his chest tightened with jealousy. She looked annoyed, but the glint in her eyes only heightened her tousled appearance. Her voice was curt.

  "As you can both see, I am fine and quite comfortable. Slaves have to be up before dawn, so I would like to go to sleep, unless you want to bring Cabera or Tubruk along as well?"

  Marcus and Gaius looked on her with surprised expressions. She really seemed quite angry.

  "No? Then good night." She nodded to them, her mouth firm, and gently closed the door.

  Carla stood with her mouth open in astonishment. She wasn't sure how to start apologizing.

  "What are you doing here, Marcus?" Gaius demanded, keeping his voice low.

  "Same thing as you. I thought she might be lonely. I didn't know you were going to make it a social occasion, did I?"

  Doors were opening along the corridor and a low female voice called, "Everything all right, Carla?"

  "Yes, dear. Thank you," Carla hissed back. "Look. She's gone to bed. I suggest you two follow her example before the whole house turns out to see what's happening."

  Grim-faced, they nodded and walked back down the corridor together, leaving Carla with her hand over her mouth to stop her laughing before they were out of earshot. She nearly made it.

  As Alexandria had predicted, the house of Marius came suddenly alive a good two hours before dawn. The kitchen ovens were lit, the windows opened, torches placed along the walls until the sun rose. Slaves bustled around, carrying trays of food and towels for the soldiers. The silence of the dark hours was broken by coarse laughter and shouts. Gaius and Marcus were awake at the first sounds, with Tubruk only a little behind them. Cabera refused to get up.

  "Why would I want to? I will just throw on my robe and walk to the gates! Two more hours till dawn sounds good to me."

  "You can wash and have breakfast," Marcus said, his eyes lively.

  "I washed yesterday and I don't eat much before noon. Now go away."

  Marcus retreated and joined the others as they ate a little bread and honey, washed down with a hot, spiced wine that filled their bellies with warmth. They had not spoken of the events of the night before, and both could feel a small tension between them and silences in the spaces they would usually have filled with light talk.