The Death of Kings Page 32

  It was quickly done and, without any further discussion, his men lifted the captive bundles out onto the street, the gatekeeper last of all. He had been gagged to stop his shouting, but still champed in anger as Ciro deposited him on the road. Julius closed the gate himself and locked it with the key he had taken from him, winking at the furious figure before he turned away.

  His men were in two ranks of five before him. It was not enough to hold the house against a determined assault, and the first thing he had to do was send a couple as runners back to the estate to fetch a full fifty of his best fighters. It was all very well to plan for a court case, but whoever actually held the house in his possession would have a clear advantage and Julius was determined not to lose it when Antonidus returned.

  In the end, he sent three of the fastest runners wearing messenger tunics taken from the house stores. His main worry was that they would become lost in the unfamiliar city, and he cursed himself for not bringing someone from the estate to help them find their way back to the Tiber bridge.

  When they had gone, he turned to his men, a slow smile spreading on his face.

  “I told you I would find you quarters in Rome,” he said.

  They chuckled, looking about them appreciatively.

  “I need three of you to stay on guard by the gate. The others will relieve them in two hours. Stay alert. Antonidus will come back before the day is much older, I'm sure. Summon me when he arrives.”

  The thought of that conversation cheered him immensely as the guards took up their positions. The house would be secure by evening and then he could turn his attention to rebuilding Marius's name in the city, if he had to fight the whole of the Senate to do it.

  * * *

  Brutus and Cabera were at the estate when two of the messengers arrived from Julius, the third some miles behind. Well used to command, Brutus quickly organized a fifty and began the fast march back to the city. Julius couldn't have known that so many soldiers would have been stopped from entering, so Brutus had them remove their armor and swords. He sent them into the city in pairs or threes to gather again out of sight of city guards, who were the eyes of the Senate in Rome. Last to come through was the cart full of their weapons, and Brutus stayed with that to bribe the gate captain. Cabera pulled a bottle of wine from under the coverings to press into the man's hand with coins, and with a conspiratorial wink, they were let through.

  “I don't know whether to be pleased or appalled at how easy that was,” Brutus muttered as Cabera whipped the reins on the pair of oxen that pulled the heavy cart. “When this is over, I'll be tempted to go back to that guard and have a word with him. It wasn't even a large bribe.”

  Cabera cackled as he made the reins crack in the air. “He would have been too suspicious if it was. No, we paid just enough to make him think of us as wine dealers avoiding the city tariff. You look like a guard and he probably thought of me as the wealthy owner.”

  Brutus snorted. “He thought you were a cart driver. That tatty old robe of yours doesn't look much like a wealthy owner to me,” he replied as they wound on through the streets. Cabera snapped the leather reins again in irritation as a response.

  The cart blocked the road neatly, with its wheels fitting between the stepping-stones used by the walking crowds. There was nowhere to pass or turn and their progress toward Marius's house was slow, though Cabera enjoyed shouting at the other drivers and shaking his fist at anyone who dared to cross in front of them. Four of Julius's men fell in behind them, obviously pleased to have the cart to follow through the tortuous maze of streets. Neither Brutus nor Cabera dared look back at them, though Brutus wondered how many would still be wandering through the markets at sunset. His directions had been simple enough, he was sure, but then after months of working with Primigenia at their barracks as well as his trips to see his mother, he knew Rome as well as anybody. Pretending to check the wheels under them, Brutus looked around and was relieved to see the number of followers had grown to nine of the men Julius had wanted. He hoped they wouldn't make it too obvious, or the curious people of Rome would quickly be joining them and an impromptu procession would arrive at Marius's old house, with the cart at the head and any attempt at stealth ruined.

  As they turned in to the hill that led up to the great house he remembered so vividly, Brutus saw a gesticulating figure shouting at someone inside the gate. At least the road was wide enough so that stopping on it would not bring all the traffic in the area to a shuddering halt, he thought gratefully.

  “Get out and check the wheels or something,” he hissed to Cabera, who clambered down with an ill grace and walked around the cart, pronouncing “Wheel” as he came to each one. The shouting man at the gate didn't seem to notice the laden cart that had stopped just down from him, and Brutus risked another glance back, blinking in surprise at the group of men who had assembled behind him. Even worse, they had fallen into ranks and, despite their clothing, looked exactly what they were—a group of legionaries pretending to be citizens. Brutus leapt out of the cart and ran over to them.

  “Don't stand to attention, you fools. You'll have every house in the area sending guards out to see what you're doing!”

  The men shuffled around uncertainly and Brutus raised his eyes in exasperation. There was no help for it. Already the servants and guards at nearby gates had come right up to the bars for a look at the milling group of soldiers. Distantly, he could hear cries of alarm sounding around them.

  “Right. We can forget secrecy. Get your swords and armor from the cart and follow me to the gate. Quickly! The Senate will have a fit when they find we have an army in the city.”

  All uncertainty banished, the relieved soldiers grabbed their equipment and laced it tight without any fuss. It took only a few minutes and then Brutus told Cabera to stop the inspection of the cart that had continued without pause, his announcement of each wheel growing increasingly weary.

  “Now forward,” Brutus growled, his cheeks flushing at the gathering number of onlookers. They marched toward the gate in perfect ranks, and for a second, he was distracted from his embarrassment by a quick professional assessment of the men following him. They would do very well for Primigenia.

  * * *

  Antonidus was pale with anger by the time Julius had finished explaining his position.

  “You dare!” he bellowed. “I will appeal to the Senate. This house is mine by right of purchase, and I will see you dead before you steal it from me.”

  “I have stolen it from no one. You had no right to offer money for property that was my uncle's,” Julius replied calmly, rather enjoying the man's fury.

  “An enemy of the state, his lands and wealth confiscated. A traitor!” Antonidus shouted. He would have liked nothing better than to reach through the bars and grab the insolent young man's throat, but the guards that watched him within had their swords drawn and his own two were badly outnumbered. He thought through what Julius might find in the rooms of the house. Was there any evidence linking him to Pompey's daughter? He didn't think so, but the thought nagged at him, lending a wild edge of panic to his outrage.

  “A traitor named by Sulla, who attacked his own city?” Julius replied, his eyes narrowing. “Wrongly named, then. Marius defended the Senate from a man who would set himself up as Dictator. He was a man of honor.”

  Antonidus spat in disgust on the ground, his spittle almost touching the hem of the still-bound gatekeeper.

  “That for his honor,” he roared, taking the gate bars in his hands.

  Julius motioned one of his men forward and Antonidus was forced to drop his hands away.

  “Do not think to put your hands on anything I own,” Julius said.

  Antonidus would have replied, but a sudden clatter of legion sandals from down the hill made him pause. He glanced at the sound and a leer stole over his features.

  “Now you will see, you criminal. The Senate has sent men to restore order. I will have you beaten and leave you on the street as you have left my
men.”

  He stepped away from the gate to greet the newcomers. “This man has broken into my house and abused my servants. I want him arrested,” he said to the nearest soldier, flecks of white gathering at the corners of his mouth from his exertions.

  “Well, he has a friendly face. Let him keep it,” Brutus replied, grinning.

  For a few seconds, Antonidus did not understand, then slowly he took in the numbers of armed men who stood against him and noted their lack of legion insignia.

  He backed away slowly, his head coming up in defiance. Brutus laughed at him.

  Antonidus went to stand between his two guards, who shifted nervously at being identified as his before so many possible enemies.

  “The Senate will hear me,” Antonidus rasped, his voice hoarse from shouting.

  “Tell your masters to set a date for a hearing. I will defend my actions within the law,” Julius replied, finally unlocking the gate for Brutus to bring the men in off the street.

  Antonidus glared at him, then turned on his heel and strode away, his pair of guards following.

  Julius stopped Brutus with a touch on his arm as he passed.

  “Hardly the quiet gathering I envisaged, Brutus.”

  His friend pursed his mouth, unable for a moment to meet his eyes. “I got them here, didn't I? You have no idea how hard it is to bring armed men into this city. The days of Marius slipping in a fifty here and there are gone.”

  Cabera joined them, strolling through the open gate with the last of the soldiers.

  “The guards at the city gate thought I was a prosperous merchant,” he said lightly.

  Both Julius and Brutus ignored him, their eyes locked together. Finally, Brutus bowed his head slightly.

  “All right, it could have gone more smoothly.”

  The tension between them disappeared as he spoke and Julius grinned.

  “I did enjoy it when he thought you were from the Senate, though,” he said, chuckling. “Just that moment was probably worth the public arrival of the men, I think.”

  Brutus still looked rueful, but a smile stole slowly over his face in response. “Perhaps. Look, the Senate will hear from him about you having this many men. They won't allow it. You should think about moving some out to the Primigenia barracks.”

  “In a while, I will, but we need to make a few plans first. My other centuries at the estate should be brought in as well.” A thought struck Julius. “How is it that the Senate doesn't object to Primigenia in the city?”

  Brutus shrugged. “They're on the legion rolls, don't forget, but the barracks are actually outside the walls on the north side, near the Quirinal gate. I have one of the best training grounds in Rome, and Renius as sword master. You should see it.”

  “You've done so much, Brutus,” Julius said, gripping his shoulder. “Rome will not be the same now we're back. I'll bring my men to you as soon as I'm sure Antonidus won't try again.”

  Brutus held the arm, his enthusiasm spilling over. “We do need your men. Primigenia has to grow. I won't rest until it's back to the old strength. Marius—”

  “No, Brutus.” Julius dropped his arm. “You have misunderstood me. My men are sworn to me alone. They cannot be under your command.” He didn't want to be hard on his friend, but it was better to be clear from the start.

  “What?” Brutus replied, surprised. “Look, they aren't part of any legion and Primigenia has less than a thousand men. All you have to do—”

  Julius shook his head firmly. “I will help you with recruiting, as I promised, but not with these. I'm sorry.”

  Brutus looked at him in disbelief. “But I am rebuilding Primigenia for you. I would be your sword in Rome, remember?”

  “I remember,” Julius replied, taking his arm again. “Your friendship means more to me than anything except for the lives of my wife and daughter. Your blood is in my veins, do you remember that? Mine is in yours.” He paused and gripped the held arm tightly. “These men are my Wolves. They cannot be under your command. Let this go.”

  Brutus pulled his arm away with a jerk, his face hardening. “All right. You keep your Wolves while I struggle for every new recruit. I will return to my barracks and my own men. See me there when you want to bring your soldiers in. Perhaps we can discuss the fees for their lodging then.”

  He turned away and twisted the key in the gate to open it.

  “Marcus!” Julius called to his back.

  Brutus froze for a moment, then opened the gate and walked away, leaving it swinging behind him.

  * * *

  Even in the company of his two remaining guards, Antonidus kept his hand on the dagger in his belt as he made his way through the dark alleys. Narrow as they were, at night there were too many places for the raptores to lie in wait for him to relax. He breathed through his mouth as he walked, trying to ignore the pools of foul water that had ruined his sandals in the first few steps away from the main streets. One of his men stifled a curse as his foot skidded through a heap that was fresh enough not to be completely cold.

  Daylight rarely reached this part of Rome, but at night the shadows took on a fearful aspect. There was no law there, no soldiers who could come, and no citizens who would dare answer a call. Antonidus gripped his dagger even more tightly, starting as something scrambled away from their footsteps as they passed. He didn't investigate, but stumbled on almost blind, counting the corners by feeling them out with his hands. Three corners from the entrance, then four more down to the left.

  Even in the night, the alleys carried the foot traffic that the bulk of Rome would never see. There was little conversation between the people they saw, and that muted. Hurrying figures passed the three men without acknowledgment, skirting the filthy pools with their heads down. Where single torches lit the path for a few paces, the people stepped around the light, as if to fall within its scope was to invite disaster.

  Only his fury made Antonidus push on and even then it was not without fear. The man he had met had told him never to come uninvited into these streets, but losing his home gave him a courage born in anger. Even that was fading in the dark and the rising discomfort.

  At last he reached the point he had found before, a cross path between mildewed walls, somewhere deep in the heart of the warren. He paused to look for his man, his eyes straining in the darkness. Water dripped slowly onto stone nearby and a sudden scuffle of feet made his men spin round nervously, flourishing their own daggers before them, as if to ward off spirits.

  “You were told not to seek me out until the last night of the month,” a sibilant voice said by the general's ear.

  Antonidus almost fell in panic, his feet slipping on the wet stones as he jumped in horror at the closeness. His dagger cleared his belt in reaction, but his wrist was clamped in a grip that held him helpless.

  The man who faced him wore a cloak and hood of dark rough cloth, his features covered, though it was hardly necessary in the inky blackness of the alleyways. Antonidus almost gagged at the strange sweet scent coming from him. It was the smell of disease, of soft corruption masked with perfumed oil, and he wondered afresh whether the cloak hid more than just identity. The dark man leaned so close as to almost touch his ear with the hidden lips.

  “Why have you come clattering in here, disturbing half my watchers with your noisy fumbling?”

  The voice was a hiss of anger and so close that it carried the sweetness in a rush of warm breath that made Antonidus want to gag. He shuddered in reaction as the hood touched his cheek lightly.

  “I had to come. I have more work for you and I want it done quickly.”

  The grip strengthened on his wrist, almost to the point of pain. Antonidus could not turn his face to look directly at the man, for fear that their faces would touch. Instead, he looked away, trying not to grimace as the sickly odor seemed to taint every breath he took.

  The dark figure tutted, a series of tiny clicks. “I have not yet found a way to Crassus's wife. It is too soon for another. In haste, my
brothers die. You have not paid enough for me to lose men for you, only for the service.”

  “Forget Crassus. He is nothing to me now. I want you to seek out the daughter of Cinna and kill her. She must be your target now. Leave a token with Sulla's name as you did with Pompey's bitch.”

  Gently, he felt his wrist guided back toward his belt and, understanding, sheathed his dagger as the pressure was released. He held himself steady as he waited, not daring to show his revulsion openly by moving away. He knew that if an insult was perceived, neither he nor his men would live to see the open streets again.

  “She will be well guarded. You will have to pay for the lives of those I will lose in reaching her. Ten thousand sesterces is the price.”

  Antonidus clamped his jaw shut over his intake of breath. Cato would cover the debt, he was sure. Was it not his idea to hire these men? He nodded convulsively.

  “Good. It will be paid. I will have my guards bring the gold here on the day we discussed, as before.”

  “You will have to find other guards. Do not come here uninvited again or the cost will be higher,” the voice whispered, moving swiftly away from him.

  Quick footsteps followed and in only a moment Antonidus could feel he was alone. Gingerly, he stepped over to where his men had stood, reaching down with his hands and recoiling as he felt the wetness of their opened throats. He shuddered and walked quickly back the way he had come.

  CHAPTER 30

  Julius brought his men into the Primigenia barracks an hour before dawn. As Brutus had said, the buildings and training yard were impressive and Julius whistled softly under his breath as he marched in under the outer arch of the main gate, noting the well-spaced sentries and fortified positions within.