‘Yes . . . sir.’
‘That’s better. Mind you hold that club like a walking stick, and you keep it that way up unless I give the order to lay into anyone. Understand?’
Marcus nodded and Festus patted him on the shoulder.
‘That’s the spirit.’
‘Master’s coming!’ a voice called out.
Festus and the others quickly formed up in two lines, each side of the entrance to the house. Marcus joined the end of one and stood beside Festus, staring directly ahead as the others did. The clack of boots on the floor tiles echoed off the walls as Caesar swept into the room, his arm round his niece’s shoulder. Behind them came Lupus, the satchel containing his note slates hanging from his shoulder. Marcus risked a quick glimpse and saw that his master was wearing a spotless white tunic with a broad purple stripe running down one edge. His boots were fine red leather with tassels dangling from the tops. His hair was neatly arranged with little ringlets around the fringe. Marcus couldn’t help being struck by his ornate appearance. It was as if Caesar was setting out to dazzle his audience. Caesar paused before he reached his retinue and turned to face Portia.
‘How do I look, my dear?’
She smiled with delight. ‘Every inch a consul, Uncle. I’m proud of you.’
Marcus could see what Portia meant about running rings round her uncle.
‘As I am of you.’ Caesar beamed and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. He turned away and at once his expression hardened as he faced the waiting men. ‘As you know, I have my enemies, but until now they’ve had the sense not to lay a finger on a consul of Rome. That may well change. It is my intention to propose a new law before the Senate this morning. It’s sure to divide members of the Senate and there may be trouble. Although my enemies might be cowards, I most certainly am not. It’s important that the people of Rome see I am not afraid. Therefore you will at all times keep position some ten feet behind me. You will only come to my aid if I call for you. And you will not raise so much as a finger against anyone unless I give the order, no matter how rowdy the crowd gets. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Caesar!’ the men chorused, and Marcus joined in.
Caesar strode down each line, examining his men, then stood back and nodded towards the doorway. ‘Lead ’em outside, Festus. I’ll join you in a minute. You go with them too, Lupus.’
Marcus turned to follow the others when a hand pressed on his shoulder.
‘Not you, boy. Wait behind.’
Marcus stepped to the side as the others descended the stairs into the street outside. His heart beat with alarm. What did his master want with him? Caesar watched them file out and when the last of them had gone he turned to his niece. ‘Portia, you may go.’
‘Yes, Uncle.’ She nodded, then shot a quick glance at Marcus and raised an eyebrow before gliding off towards the rear of the house.
Caesar stared at Marcus long enough for him to become uncomfortable under the penetrating gaze. He looked down as a satisfied smile flickered on the consul’s lips.
‘As far as anyone apart from you, me and Festus knows, I have brought you to Rome to protect my niece. You will carry out that duty day to day. However, as I have mentioned, I will have other uses for you. That is why I want you to join me at the Senate today, Marcus. It’s important that you know the faces of the men who call themselves my friends, as well as those of my enemies.’ He paused. ‘You have a good mind and think on your feet. You also have raw courage. I have every intention of making a great gladiator out of you at one of my schools in Campania when your work is done here in Rome.’
Marcus couldn’t hide his despair. He composed himself quickly, but it was too late. Caesar frowned. ‘Does the prospect of such a reward not please you?’
Marcus thought there was nothing he wanted less than to be a gladiator, apart from being a slave for the rest of his life. But realizing the foolishness of offending Caesar, he nodded. ‘It would be an honour, master.’
‘Of course it would be. But it will be some time yet before you leave my household. For now, I want you to pay close attention to today’s proceedings at the Senate. You are to stand with the rest of the public and watch. Put the hood of your cloak up. There are sure to be agents of my enemies watching as we leave. They will have eyes for me, and for some of my retinue. They will surely overlook a young boy, but I will not risk them seeing your face and being able to recognize you at a later date. I say this for your own safety as much as my own interests, so do it now.’
‘Yes, master.’
Fighting back his distaste, Marcus pulled the hood over his head, far enough to obscure his face. His nose crinkled at the sour odour that filled his nostrils. Caesar nodded his satisfaction. ‘That will do. Let’s go.’
Following his master out of the entrance, Marcus hurried to take his place at the rear of the cluster of bodyguards, who were ready to move off. A small crowd had gathered to watch the consul emerge from his home and they raised a cheer as Caesar appeared. He smiled warmly at them and raised a hand in greeting, before setting off down the street at a sedate pace. Like almost every street in the Subura, it was narrow and to Marcus’s eye seemed squeezed between the tall tenement blocks that lined the route. Most were two or three storeys, but some towered above them, twice as high. He couldn’t help looking at the taller buildings with a tinge of anxiety. Some already had large cracks working their way up and down the walls. It didn’t look as if it would take much for them to collapse.
As the consul passed along the street he called out greetings to the owners of the small businesses that lined the route. Lupus fell into step beside Marcus and nodded towards their master.
‘He puts on quite a show, doesn’t he?’
Marcus saw butchers pause in their work to wave their bloodied cleavers in acknowledgement of Caesar, while fullers stopped treading clothes in their tanks to offer cries of support to him. An acrid stink filled Marcus’s nose and his face wrinkled.
‘What is that smell?’
‘Smell?’ Lupus looked round at the fullers. ‘Oh, that. It’s urine.’
‘Urine? They’re not standing in urine, surely?’
‘Oh, yes. There’s nothing better for cleaning clothes,’ Lupus explained in a matter-of-fact tone. Marcus shook his head in bewilderment as ahead of them a baker rushed out to offer their master a roundel of bread. Caesar graciously accepted the gift and passed it back to Marcus.
‘There. Eat it if you like.’
Marcus bowed his head gratefully and broke it in two, handing half to Lupus. He bit into the loaf, savouring the doughy flavour.
Word that Caesar was on his way to the Senate had filtered through the streets and more and more people began to tag along behind his retinue. Marcus had arrived in Rome after dark several days before and this was his first excursion into the heart of the city. Until recently, the only town he had ever seen was the sleepy fishing port of Nydri, scarcely more than a village. His senses were assaulted from all directions. Apart from the raw stench of the great city, there were the sounds of the street criers and people crowded into the slum dwellings that pressed in on either side. Then there were the sights that fascinated him, and the wide variety of clothing of the different races living crowded together. A short distance from Caesar’s house stood a synagogue where a handful of rabbis stood in the doorway, debating in their strange tongue. The shops increased in number the closer the growing procession got to the Forum in the centre of the city. They were filled with goods of every kind - from heaps of fruit and grain to bales of silken cloth and fine jewellery.
There were some sights that appalled Marcus too - the pinched grimy faces of hungry children clutching the rags of their barefoot mothers, and the dead lying in the streets like bundles of discarded rags. Some bodies lay propped against the cracked plaster of the walls where they had died, or had been cast into clingy side alleys to stop them hindering the passage of the living. There they would remain until a work party took the bodies to o
ne of the mass graves outside the city walls.
As he passed a midden heap, piled with rubbish as well as mud and faeces, there came a plaintive wail. Turning towards the sound, Marcus slowed his pace and saw an abandoned baby writhing pitifully amid the filth. He felt sick at the sight and would have stopped but for the press of bodies behind him, forcing him on.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Caesar and his followers to emerge from the Subura district and into the Forum. Once more Marcus was stunned by the scale of his surroundings. The public buildings of the great city spread out along the length of the Sacred Way, the main route that led into the heart of Rome. On the far side of the Forum rose the Palatine Hill where the houses of the richest families in Rome overlooked the city. To Marcus they looked more like palaces than houses, with their gleaming plaster walls, lofty tiled roofs and terraced gardens.
Caesar turned right, towards the looming mass of the Temple of Jupiter and the cluster of buildings at the foot of the Capitoline Hill. Marcus recalled Titus telling him this was where the Senate met to debate the laws that would govern Rome. Before them lay the great marketplace where the finest goods from across the empire were sold. Here also were the offices of the bankers and merchants. Marcus wished he could take in the overwhelming scene properly, but he had to move on. He struggled to keep his place in the crowd that was now following Caesar as he made his way towards the Senate’s meeting place. Among the throng that filled the Forum, Marcus caught glimpses of other senators dressed in fine togas and followed by their own retinues as they too fought to pass through the packed Forum.
‘Sod this!’ one of Festus’s men grumbled. ‘Where are the lictors today? Why aren’t they here to clear a way for us?’
‘Because Caesar sent them away,’ Festus responded sourly. ‘Didn’t want to upset the mob by having the lictors thrust them aside.’
Marcus edged forward until he was beside Festus. ‘What are lictors?’
‘The consul’s official bodyguards. They carry bundles of sticks strapped round an axe. It’s their duty to clear the way for the consuls.’
‘So why aren’t they doing their job?’ the other man continued. ‘You can be sure the other consul will have his lictors clear the way for him!’
‘And that’s why he’s not the darling of the mob,’ Festus explained. ‘Not like Caesar. Our master knows his way to the people’s hearts. He can play them like a lyre. Now shut your mouth and quit complaining.’ Festus raised his voice so the rest of his men could hear him above the din of the crowd. ‘All of you, keep your eyes open for trouble!’
Marcus tried to do as he was told but he was too small to see much beyond those people immediately surrounding him.
A dense crowd had formed outside the Senate House and the officials were struggling to keep the steps clear for the senators. As some of them climbed the steps the crowd raised a cheer. Others were greeted with silence, or a scattering of boos.
‘What’s going on?’ Marcus asked Lupus.
‘Well, there are two types of senators. Those who want to keep power and wealth in the hands of the aristocrats, and the men like Caesar who want to help the common people. That’s who the mob is cheering.’
Marcus couldn’t help wondering about his new master’s desire to stand up for the poor people of Rome. If he was prepared to help them, then why not slaves too?
They pressed on towards the Senate House, and then at last the way ahead was clear as they reached the foot of the stairs. Caesar climbed the first few steps and turned towards the crowd. He was greeted with a roar of approval as he raised his right hand and smiled, basking in their cheers, before descending towards Festus. Leaning close to his servant, he issued his orders.
‘You and your men stay here. Lupus and Marcus, follow me to the entrance, then find a good viewing point to watch the debate. Lupus, make sure you explain the proceedings to Marcus. I want him to know precisely who’s who in the cast of villains.’ Caesar glanced down and winked at Marcus. Then he turned and climbed the steps to the entrance of the Senate House. Lupus waited a moment before gesturing to Marcus to follow, and they moved to the edge of the staircase. One of the officials stopped them.
‘And where do you think you’re going?’
‘We’re with the consul. I’m his scribe. He wants us to watch the debate.’
The official leaned forward to inspect the brass plate around Lupus’s neck, checking who owned him, then jerked his thumb up the stairs. ‘You go as far as the public gallery and no further. Got that?’
Lupus nodded and steered Marcus ahead as they climbed the stairs to the colonnade that surrounded the debating chamber. The shutters in the tall windows had been opened and shafts of light illuminated the ranks of stone benches facing the two ornate chairs where the consuls sat. One of the chairs was already occupied by a large man with a round face and wispy dark hair.
‘Ah.’ Lupus’s lips lifted in amusement. ‘Consul Bibulus is already here. Waiting impatiently, I expect.’
Marcus leaned on the wooden rail and peered down into the chamber. He saw Caesar making his way through the senators, shaking hands and exchanging greetings. But there were many others who regarded Caesar coolly and Marcus guessed these were the enemies he had mentioned - the faces Marcus was supposed to remember. A chill ran down his spine as he reflected that these senators had been the bitter enemies of his true father, Spartacus. These were the same senators who had ordered the crucifixion of the prisoners after the last battle of Spartacus. Six thousand of them, Brixus had told him - lining the Appian Way from Rome to Capua.
Caesar crossed the open floor between the senators’ benches and the consuls’ chairs, nodding a greeting to Bibulus as he eased himself into his seat. Now that both consuls were in attendance, the rest of the senators took their places. When the last of them had arrived the crowds were finally allowed to enter. Officials formed a line across the doorway to keep the people out as they moved up the stairs and filled the public gallery overlooking the debating chamber.
‘What happens now?’ asked Marcus as people jostled around him, trying to get a good view of the senators.
‘Now?’ Lupus glanced at him with a grim smile. ‘Now we find out who is for Caesar and who is against him.’
4
Marcus leaned forward and watched intently as the chief clerk of the Senate cleared his throat and began to read from the waxed slate in his hands.
‘The first, and only, item on today’s agenda is that proposed by Consul Gaius Julius Caesar.’ He bowed his head to Caesar and returned to his desk where he took up his stylus to record key comments of the coming debate for the official archive of the Roman Senate.
An expectant silence fell on the house. Marcus gazed down at his master. Caesar was still for a moment, milking the tension in his audience, before he rose slowly and drew a deep breath.
‘As every citizen knows, we are living in a time of great prosperity. Peace has returned to Rome, and it is time we honoured the great sacrifices made by our fellow citizens who fought for the glory of Rome. The soldiers of General Pompeius, who have defeated every enemy sent against them . . .’
The men who killed my father, and those who had fought with him for their freedom, Marcus thought. He wasn’t sure how he felt, hearing this.
‘Now they have returned to Italia with every expectation that Rome would show its gratitude to them.’ Caesar gestured to the faces peering down from the windows. ‘I am sure there are many here today who are former soldiers of General Pompeius. To them I offer my thanks, on behalf of all the citizens of Rome. To them I say it is only right that Rome should bear the cost of providing them with the land settlement they richly deserve.’
A series of cheers sounded from the public gathered in the colonnade, and then rippled down the stairs into the Forum. Caesar waited for the cries to die down before continuing.
‘Yet here today some senators are opposed to the principle of a fair reward for the gallant service given by ou
r soldiers. I will not name them, as you will know them when they speak against my proposal. They will have to answer to our soldiers for their opposition . . .’
Caesar stared around the chamber and then abruptly sat down. At once, one of the other senators rose to his feet and raised his arm to draw attention to himself.
‘I second the consul’s motion.’
‘No surprises there,’ Lupus chuckled.
‘Who is he?’ asked Marcus. He looked down at the tall, distinguished-looking speaker as he continued his support for the measure to resettle Pompeius’s veterans.
‘That’s Marcus Licinius Crassus. He was the richest man in Rome - made most of his fortune from buying and selling tax-collecting contracts. But then General Pompeius returned from the east loaded down with treasures he had looted from our conquests there. They used to be bitter enemies.’
Marcus frowned. He had pinned his hopes on General Pompeius. If Pompeius had enemies, then Marcus needed to find out more. ‘Then why is Crassus supporting Pompeius and his soldiers now?’
Lupus grinned. ‘You can be sure he isn’t doing it out of the goodness of his heart. No doubt he’s stitched up a deal with Pompeius and Caesar. My guess is that he’s after the tax- collection contracts in the provinces that Pompeius has created.’
‘I see.’ Marcus watched a moment longer as Crassus spelled out the reasons why the Senate should vote in favour of the new law. Then he turned to Lupus again.
‘Is General Pompeius here?’
‘For once. He doesn’t usually bother to attend. Turns out he’s a rather better soldier than he is a politician. He made a complete mess of his first speech in the Senate and only comes out when it’s important for him to be seen in public.’
Gladiator: Street fighter Page 3