The Emperor Series: Books 1-5

by Conn Iggulden

  The stones of the forum were slicked wet with blood. The other men on the steps had gone pale, taking involuntary paces backwards away from the slaughter. Only Sulla had held firm and his lips twisted into a bitter grimace as the stench of fresh blood and opened bowels came to him.

  The two men looked at each other for a long moment, as if only they were in the forum. The moment stretched and Marius raised his hand as if to give another command to his waiting men.

  ‘One month from today,’ Sulla snapped. ‘Hold your Triumph, General, but remember you have made an enemy today. Savour the moments of joy that are due to you.’

  Marius inclined his head.

  ‘My thanks, Sulla, for your wisdom.’

  He turned his back on the senators and called the turn, walking through the ranks to take up position at the front again. The crowd held back, but anger was on every bitter face.

  ‘Forward,’ came the bellow and, once again, the crash of iron on stone was heard as the half-century followed their general out of the plaza.

  Gaius shook his head in wonderment at Tubruk and Marcus, saying nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a century of Sulla’s men enter the plaza from a side street, each man running with his sword out and in hand. He tensed and would have shouted a warning, but caught Tubruk’s shake of the head.

  Behind them, Sulla had raised his hand to halt his men and they stood to attention, watching Marius leave with angry expressions. As Gaius reached the edge of the forum, he saw Sulla make a circle with his right hand in the air.

  ‘A little too close in timing for my liking,’ Tubruk whispered.

  Marius snorted up ahead, overhearing. He strode forward, his voice carrying back.

  ‘Close formation in the streets, men. This is not over yet.’

  The soldiers drew into a tightly packed unit. Marius looked back over his shoulder.

  ‘Watch the side streets. Sulla will not let us get clean away if he can help it. Keep your wits about you and your swords loose.’

  Gaius felt dazed, carried along by events beyond his control. This was the safety of his uncle’s shadow? He walked along with the others, hemmed in by legionaries.

  A short, barking scream sounded from behind and Gaius whirled, almost knocked off his feet by the soldier behind him. One of the men was lying on the cobbles, in the filth of the road. Blood pooled around him and Gaius caught a glimpse of three men stabbing and cutting in a frenzy.

  ‘Don’t look,’ Tubruk warned, turning Gaius forward with gentle pressure on his shoulder.

  ‘But the man! Shouldn’t we stop?’ Gaius shouted, astonished.

  ‘If we stop, we’ll all die. Sulla has unleashed his dogs.’

  Gaius glanced into a side street as they passed and saw a group of men with daggers drawn, running towards them. By their bearing, they were legionaries, but without uniforms. Gaius drew his sword almost at one with all the others. His heart began to pound again and he felt sweat break out on his forehead.

  ‘Hold your nerve! We stop for nothing,’ Marius shouted back, his neck and back muscles rigid.

  The knife men attacked the back row again as it passed, one of them going down with a gladius in his ribs before the others bore their man down onto the ground. He yelled in fear as his sword was wrenched from his grasp and then the yell was cut suddenly short.

  As they marched on, Gaius could hear hoots of triumph from behind. He sneaked a look back and wished he hadn’t as the attackers raised a bloody head and howled like animals. The men around him swore viciously and one of them suddenly stopped, raising his sword.

  ‘Come on, Vegus, we’re nearly there,’ another urged him, but he shook off the hands on his shoulders and spat at the ground.

  ‘He was my friend,’ he muttered and broke rank, racing back towards the bloody group. Gaius tried to watch what happened. He could hear the cry as they saw him coming, but then men seemed to pour out of the alleyways and he was torn apart without a sound.

  ‘Steady,’ Marius shouted, and Gaius could hear the anger in the voice, the first touch of it he’d seen in the man. ‘Steady,’ he called again.

  Marcus took a dagger from the man on his right and drifted back through the ranks. He was in the last row of three when they passed the dark mouth of an alleyway and four others sprang, their knives held to kill. Marcus ducked and took the weight of an attacker as they crashed together in a violent embrace. He pulled his knife across the throat he saw so close to his own and blinked as the blood spurted out over him. He used the body to block another thrust and then threw it at the remaining attackers. As it landed, the men went down to swift, punching stabs from the three legionaries, who then rejoined the ranks without a word. One of them clapped a hand on Marcus’ shoulder and Marcus grinned at him. He ghosted up through the ranks again and arrived at Gaius’ side, panting slightly. Gaius clasped the back of his neck for a second.

  Then the gates were opening in front of them and they were safe, holding formation until the last man was through into the courtyard.

  As the gates closed, Gaius went back to look down the hill they’d walked together. It was deserted, not a face showed. Rome seemed as quiet and orderly as ever.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Marius almost glowed with pleasure and energy as he walked amongst his men, clapping his hands to shoulders and laughing. They grinned wryly, like schoolboys being congratulated by a tutor.

  ‘We’ve done it, boys!’ Marius shouted. ‘We’ll show this city a day to remember a month from today.’ They cheered him and he called for wine and refreshments, summoning every slave of his home to treat the men like kings.

  ‘Anything they want!’ he bellowed. Wine cups of gold and silver were pressed into the rough hands of every man back in through the gates, Gaius and Marcus included. Dark purple wine sloshed and gurgled as it was poured from clay jugs. Alexandria was with the other slaves and smiled at both Marcus and Gaius. Gaius nodded to her, but Marcus winked as she passed him.

  Tubruk sniffed his wine and chuckled. ‘The best.’

  Marius held his cup high, his expression sombre. Silence fell after a few seconds.

  ‘To those who didn’t make it today, who died for us. Tagoe, Luca and Vegus. Good men all.’

  ‘Good men all!’ Every voice echoed his in a guttural chorus, and the cups were tipped back and held out for refills from the waiting slaves.

  ‘He knew their names,’ Gaius whispered to Tubruk, who brought his head close to reply.

  ‘He knows all their names,’ he muttered. ‘That is why he is a good general. That is why they love him. He could tell you some of the history of every man here and a good portion of the legion outside Rome as well. Oh, you can call it a trick if you like, a cheap way to impress the men who serve. I know that’s what he would say, if you asked him.’ He paused to look at the general as he caught a huge and husky soldier in a headlock and walked through the crowd with him. The man bellowed, but didn’t struggle. He bore it as it was meant.

  ‘They’re his children, I think. You can see how much he loves them. That big man could probably tear Marius’ arms off if he wanted. On another day, he’d put a dagger in a man for looking at him with a squint in the noonday sun. But Marius can lead him around by the head and he laughs. I’m not sure you can train a man into that skill – I think it’s born into you, or not. You don’t even need to have it to be a good general.

  ‘These men would follow Sulla, if they were in his legion. They’d fight for him and hold formation and die for him. But they love Marius, so they can’t be bribed or bought and in battle they will not ever run, not to the last man. Not while he’s watching, anyway. There used to be a land qualification to be in the legions, but Marius abolished it. Now anyone can make a career fighting for Rome, at least for him. Half these men wouldn’t have made it into the army before Marius had his law passed by the Senate. They owe him a great deal.’

  The men began to walk out of the entrance square, off to be bathed and massaged
by the prettiest female slaves on the grounds. Several beauties had taken arms and were already gasping and exclaiming at stories of battle prowess. When Marius let go of the big legionary’s head, he immediately called a girl over, a slim brunette with kohl-dark eyes. The big man took one look and grinned like a wolf, gathering her up into his arms. The echoes of her laughter came back off the brick walls as he trotted into the main buildings.

  One young soldier dropped a powerfully muscled arm onto Alexandria’s shoulder and said something to her. Marcus came up behind the man quickly.

  ‘Not this girl, friend. She’s not from this house.’

  The soldier looked at him and took in the boy’s bearing and determined expression. He shrugged and called to another slave girl as she passed by. Gaius stood watching the exchange and when Alexandria caught his eye, her face filled with anger. She turned her back on Marcus and strode into the cool interior of the garden rooms.

  Marcus turned to his friend. He had noticed her expression and his own was thoughtful.

  ‘Why was she so annoyed?’ Gaius said, exasperated. ‘I wouldn’t have thought she wanted to go with that big ox. You saved her.’

  Marcus nodded. ‘That may be the problem. Perhaps she didn’t want me to. Perhaps she wanted you to save her.’

  ‘Oh.’ Gaius’ face lit up. ‘Really?’

  Marius staggered over to Gaius and his friends, still laughing, his hair plastered to his forehead with wine emptied over him. His eyes were shining with pleasure. He took Gaius by both shoulders.

  ‘Well, lad? How was your first taste of Rome?’

  Gaius grinned back at him. You couldn’t help it. The man’s emotions were infectious. When he frowned, dark clouds of fear and anger followed him around and touched all who met him. When he smiled, you wanted to smile. You wanted to be one of his men. Gaius could feel the power of the man and for the first time wondered if he could ever command that kind of loyalty himself.

  ‘It was frightening, but exciting as well,’ he replied, unable to stop his lips smiling.

  ‘Good! Some don’t feel it, you know. They just add up supply figures and calculate how many men it would take to hold a ravine. They just don’t feel the excitement.’

  He looked over at Marcus, Tubruk and Cabera.

  ‘Get drunk if you like, have a woman if you can find one by now. We’ll do no work today and no one can leave until it’s dark after that trouble we had. Tomorrow, we’ll start planning how to bring five thousand men fifty miles and all the way through Rome. Do you know anything about supply?’

  Both Marcus and Gaius shook their heads.

  ‘You’ll learn. The best army in the world is lost without food and water, boys. That’s the thing to know. Everything else falls into place. My home is your home, remember. I’m going to sit in the fountain and get drunk.’ He collected three unopened jugs of wine from the remaining male slaves and walked away – a man with a mission.

  Tubruk watched him leave the courtyard with a wry smile.

  ‘Once, in North Africa, on the eve of a battle against a savage tribe, they say Marius walked alone into the enemy camp carrying a jug of wine in each hand. Remember, this was the camp of seven thousand of the most brutal warriors the legion had encountered. He drank all night with the chief of the tribe, despite not understanding a word of each other’s language. They toasted life and the future and courage. Then the next morning he staggered back to his own lines.’

  ‘What happened next?’ Marcus said.

  ‘They wiped out the tribe to the last man. What would you expect?’ Tubruk laughed.

  ‘Why didn’t the chief kill him?’ Marcus continued.

  ‘I suppose he liked him. Most people do.’

  Metella came into the courtyard and held out her hands to Gaius and Marcus, smiling.

  ‘I’m glad you are safely returned to us. I want you both to think of this house as a place of peace and refuge for you.’

  She gazed into Marcus’ eyes and he looked back calmly. ‘Is it true you grew up without a mother?’

  Marcus blushed a little, wondering how much Marius had told her. He nodded and Metella gave a little gasp.

  ‘You poor boy. I would have brought you to me earlier if I had known.’

  Marcus was wondering if she knew what the legionaries were getting up to with her female slaves. She didn’t seem to fit into the bluff world of Marius and his legion. He wondered what his own mother was like, and for the first time considered trying to find her. Marius would probably know, but it was not a question he wished to ask the man. Perhaps Tubruk would tell him before he returned to the estate.

  Metella took her hand away from his and reached up to brush his cheek.

  ‘You have had a rough time of it, but that is all over now.’

  Slowly, he touched her hand with his and it was as if they had reached some private understanding. Suddenly her eyes glistened with tears and she turned and walked away along the cloisters.

  Marcus looked at Gaius and shrugged.

  ‘You have a friend there,’ Tubruk said, watching her retreating figure. ‘She has taken a liking to you.’

  ‘I’m a bit old to need a mother,’ Marcus muttered.

  ‘Possibly, but she’s not too old to need a son.’

  At noon, there was a commotion at the house gates. Some of the legionaries turned out with swords drawn in case it was a reprisal for the morning’s work. Gaius and Marcus rushed to the courtyard with the rest and then stopped and gaped.

  Renius was there, draped through the metal poles and singing a drunken dirge. He used the crossbar of the gate to steady himself, but his tunic was soaked with wine and specks of vomit. A guard stepped up to the bars and spoke to him as Gaius and Marcus came up, Tubruk just behind them.

  Suddenly, Renius reached up to the man’s hair and pulled his head into the metal with a clang. Unconscious, the soldier fell away and the others began to shout in anger.

  ‘Let him in and kill him!’ yelled one man, but another said it could be a trap of Sulla’s to make them open the gates. This gave them all pause and it was Gaius and Marcus who approached the gates next.

  ‘Can we help you?’ Marcus said, raising his eyebrows in polite inquiry.

  Renius mumbled angrily, ‘I’ll stick my sword up you, whore’s boy.’

  Marcus started to laugh.

  ‘Open the gates,’ Gaius called to the other guard. ‘It’s Renius – he’s with me.’

  The guard ignored him as if he had not spoken, making it clear that Gaius could not give orders in that house. As Gaius stepped towards the gate, a legionary took a pace to stand in front of him, shaking his head slowly.

  Marcus sidled over to the gate and said a few quiet words to the guard there.

  The man was in the middle of replying when Marcus butted him savagely, knocking him down into the dust. Ignoring the guard as he flailed and tried to get up, Marcus ran back the big bolts that held the door secure and opened it.

  Renius fell into the yard and lay flat, his good arm twitching. Marcus chuckled and began to close the gate when he heard the smooth metallic sound of a knife coming from a sheath. He spun and was just in time to block a thrust from the furious guard with his forearm. With his left hand, he backhanded the man across the mouth and sent him sprawling again. Marcus shut the gate.

  Two more of the men ran up to grab him, but a voice called, ‘Hold!’ and everyone froze for a second. Marius walked into the courtyard, showing no effects from the wine he had been putting away steadily for two hours. As he approached, the two men kept their eyes on Marcus, who looked calmly back at them.

  ‘Gods! What is going on in my house?’ Marius came up and put a heavy hand on the shoulder of one of the men facing Marcus.

  ‘Renius is here,’ Gaius said. ‘He came with us from the estate.’

  Marius looked down at the sprawling figure, peacefully asleep on the stones.

  ‘He never got drunk when he was a gladiator. I can see why if this is how it aff
ects him. What happened to you?’ The last question was addressed to the guard who had resumed his post. His mouth and nose were bloody and his eyes sparked with indignation, but he knew better than to complain to Marius.

  ‘Caught myself in the face with the gate when I was opening it,’ he said slowly.

  ‘Damned careless of you, Fulvio. You should have let my nephew help you with it.’

  The message was clear. The man nodded and wiped a little of the blood away with his hand.

  ‘Glad we’ve cleared that up. Now, you and you’ – he pointed a stiff finger at Gaius and Marcus – ‘come with me to my study. We need to discuss a couple of things.’

  He waited until Gaius and Marcus had walked in front of him before falling in behind. Over his shoulder, he called, ‘Get that old man somewhere to sleep it off and keep that damned gate shut.’

  Marcus caught the eye of the legionaries nearby and found they were all grinning, whether in malice or genuine amusement, he couldn’t say.

  Marius opened the door of his study and let the two go through into a room lined with maps on every wall, showing Africa and the empire and Rome herself. He closed the door quietly and then turned to face them. His eyes were cold and Gaius felt a momentary pang of fear as the man focused his dark gaze on him.

  ‘What did you think you were doing?’ Marius spat from between clenched teeth.

  Gaius opened his mouth to say he was letting Renius in when he thought better of it.

  ‘I’m sorry. I should have waited for you.’

  Marius banged his heavy fist on the desk.

  ‘I suppose you realise that if Sulla had had twenty picked men in the street waiting for just such an opportunity, we would most likely be dead by now?’

  Gaius blushed miserably.

  Marius swivelled to face Marcus. ‘And you. Why did you attack Fulvio?’

  ‘Gaius gave the order to open the gates. The man ignored him. I made it happen.’

  There was no give in Marcus. He looked up at the older man and met his gaze unflinchingly.