When the cloth was removed, Primus worked quickly, stabbing the tip into every spot of welling blood. Each contact sizzled and the stench was horrible. Marcus dry-heaved onto the floor, a line of sticky yellow bile connecting him with it.
‘Put this back in the fire, quickly. I will hold the cloth while it heats again.’
Marcus staggered upright and took the bar, jamming it back into the flames. Renius’ head lolled on his shoulders and the leather strip fell from his slack mouth.
Primus kept holding the cloth, then removing it to watch the blood come. He swore viciously.
‘I’ve missed half the pipes at least. Used to be, I could hit each one with one go, but I haven’t done this in a few years. It has to be done right, or the wound will poison itself. Is the iron ready yet?’
Marcus withdrew it, but the point was still black. ‘No. Will he be all right?’
‘Not if I can’t seal the wound, no. Get outside and fetch some wood to build up the fire.’
Marcus was thankful for the excuse and left quickly, taking great gulps of sweet air as he stood outside. It was almost dark – gods, how long had they been in there? He noticed a couple of large hounds tied to a wall around the side, asleep. He shuddered and gathered heavy chunks of wood from the pile near them. They woke at his approach and growled softly, but didn’t get up. Without looking at them, he went back inside, dumping two billets onto the flames.
‘Bring me the iron as soon as the tip is red,’ Primus muttered, pressing the wad of cloth hard against the stump.
Marcus avoided looking at the detached arm. It seemed wrong, away from a body, and his stomach heaved in a series of quick spasms before he had the sense to gaze back at the flames.
Once more the bar had to be reheated before Primus was finally satisfied. Marcus knew he would never be able to forget the fsss sound of the burning and repressed a shudder as he helped bind the stump in clean cloth bandages. Together, they lifted Renius onto a pallet bed in another room and Marcus sat on the edge, wiping the sweat out of his eyes and thankful it was over.
‘What happens to … that?’ He gestured towards the arm that was still tied to the chair.
Primus shrugged. ‘Doesn’t seem right to give the whole thing to my dogs. I’ll probably bury it somewhere in the woods. It would only rot and smell if I didn’t, but a lot of men ask for them. There are so many memories wrapped up in a hand. I mean, those fingers have held women and patted children. It is a lot to lose; but my brother is strong. I hope strong enough even for this.’
‘Our ship leaves in four days, on the best tide,’ Marcus said, weakly.
Primus scratched his chin. ‘He can sit a horse. He will be weak for a few days, but he’s as strong as a bull. The problems will be with balance. He will have to retrain, almost from scratch. How long is the sea trip?’
‘A month, with good winds,’ Marcus replied.
‘Use the time. Practise with him every day. Of all men, my brother will not enjoy being less than capable.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Marius paused at the inner doors of the Senate chamber.
‘You are not allowed to enter until you are officially accepted as a citizen, and then only as my guest for the day. I will propose you and make a short speech on your behalf. It is a formality. Wait until I return and show you where you may sit.’
Gaius nodded calmly and stood back as Marius rapped on the doors and walked through them as they opened. He was left alone in the outer chamber and paced up and down it for a while.
After twenty minutes, he began to fret at the delay and wandered over to the open outer doors, looking down onto the massed soldiers in the forum. They were an impressive sight, standing rigidly to attention despite the heat of the day. From the height of the Senate doors and with the open plaza ahead of him, Gaius had a good view of the bustling city beyond. He was lost in his inspection of this when he heard the creak of hinges from the inner doors and Marius stepped out.
‘Welcome to the nobilitas, Gaius. You are a citizen of Rome and your father would be proud. Sit next to me and listen to the matters of the day. You will find them interesting, I suspect.’
Gaius followed and met the eyes of the senators as they watched him enter. One or two nodded to him and he wondered if they had known his father, memorising faces in case he had a chance to speak to them later on. He glanced around the hall, trying not to stare. The world listened to what these few had to say.
The arrangement was very like the circus in miniature, he thought, as he took the seat Marius indicated. Five stepped tiers of seating curled around a central space where one speaker at a time could address the others. Gaius remembered from his tutors that the rostrum was made from the prow of a Carthaginian warship and was fascinated to imagine its history.
The seats were built into the curving rows, with dark wooden arms protruding where they were not obscured by seated men. Everyone wore white togas and sandals and the effect was of a working room, a place that crackled with energy. Most of the men had white hair, but a few were young and physically commanding. Several of the senators were standing and he guessed this was to show they wanted to raise a point or add to the debate at hand. Sulla himself stood at the centre of it all, talking about taxation and corn. He smiled at Gaius when he saw the young man looking over at him and Gaius felt the power of it. Here was another like Marius, he judged on the instant, but was there room in Rome for two of that kind? Sulla looked as he had when Gaius had seen him at the games. He was dressed in a simple white toga, belted with a band of red. His hair was oiled and gleamed in dark-gold curls. He glowed with health and vitality and seemed completely relaxed. As Gaius took his seat next to his uncle, Sulla coughed into his hand, delicately.
‘I think, given the more serious business of the day, that this taxation debate can be postponed until next week. Are there any objections?’ Those who were standing sat down, looking unperturbed. Sulla smiled again, revealing even, white teeth.
‘I welcome the new citizen and offer the hope of the Senate that he will serve the city as well as his father did.’ There was a murmur of approval and Gaius dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement.
‘However, our formal welcome must also be put aside for the moment. I have received grave news of a threat to the city this very morning.’ He paused and waited patiently for the senators to stop talking. ‘To the east, a Greek general, Mithridates, has overrun a garrison of ours in Asia Minor. He may have as many as eight thousand men in rebellion. They have apparently become aware of the overstretched state of our current fighting forces and are gambling on our being too weak to regain the territory. However, if we do not act to repel him, we risk his army growing in strength and threatening the security of our Greek possessions.’
Several senators rose to their feet and shouted arguments began on the benches. Sulla held his hands up for quiet.
‘A decision must be made here. The legions already in Greece are committed to controlling the unstable borders. They do not have the men to break this new threat. We cannot leave the city defenceless, especially after the most recent riots, but it is of equal importance that we send a legion to meet the man in the field. Greece is watching to see how we will respond – it must be with speed and fury.’
Heads nodded in violent agreement. Rome had not been built on caution and compromise. Gaius looked at Marius in sudden thought. The general sat with his hands clenched in front of him and his face was tight and cold.
‘Marius and I command a legion each. We are months closer than any other from the north. The decision I put to the vote is which of the two should take ship to meet the enemy army.’
He flashed a look at Marius and, for the first time, Gaius could see the bright malice in his eyes. Marius rose to his feet and the chamber hushed. Those standing sat to allow the first response to the other consul. Marius put his hands behind his back and Gaius could see the whiteness of his knuckles.
‘I find no fault with Sulla’s p
roposed course of action. The situation is clear: our forces must be split to defend Rome and our foreign dominions. I must ask him whether he will volunteer to be the one to banish the invader.’
All eyes turned to Sulla.
‘I will trust the judgement of the Senate on this. I am a servant of Rome. My personal wishes do not come into it.’
Marius smiled tightly and the tension could be felt in the air between them.
‘I concur,’ Marius said clearly, and took his seat.
Sulla looked relieved and cast his gaze around the vaulted room.
‘Then it is a simple choice. I will say the name of each legion and those who believe that is the one to fight Mithridates will stand up and be counted. The rest will stand when they hear the second name. No man may abstain in such a vote on the security of the city. Are we all agreed?’
The three hundred senators murmured their assent solemnly and Sulla smiled. Gaius felt fear touch him. Sulla paused for a long moment, clearly enjoying the tension. At last he spoke one word into the silence.
‘First-Born.’
Marius placed his hand on Gaius’ shoulder. ‘You may not vote today, lad.’
Gaius remained on his seat, craning around him to see how many would stand. Marius looked levelly at Sulla, as if the matter were of no importance to him. It seemed that all around them men were getting up and Gaius knew his uncle had lost. Then the noises stopped and no more men stood. He looked down at the handsome consul standing at the centre and could see Sulla’s face change from relaxed pleasure to disbelief, then fury. He made the count and had it checked by two others until they agreed.
‘One hundred and twenty-one in favour of the First-Born dealing with the invader.’
He bit his lip, his expression brutal for a second. His gaze fastened on Marius, who shrugged and looked away. The standing men sat.
‘Second Alaudae,’ Sulla whispered, his voice carrying on the well-crafted acoustics of the hall. Again, men stood, and Gaius could see it was a majority. Whatever plan Sulla had attempted had failed and Gaius saw him wave the senators to their seats without allowing the count to be properly finished and recorded. Visibly, he gathered himself and when he spoke he was again the charming young man Gaius had seen when he entered.
‘The Senate has spoken and I am the servant of the Senate,’ he said formally. ‘I trust Marius will use the city barracks for his own men in my absence?’
‘I will,’ said Marius, his face calm and still.
Sulla went on: ‘With the support of our forces in Asia Minor, I do not see this as a long campaign. I will return to Rome as soon as I have crushed Mithridates. Then we will decide the future of this city.’ He said the last looking straight at Marius and the message was clear.
‘I will have my men vacate the barracks this evening. If there is no further business? Good day to you all.’ Sulla left the chamber, with a group of his supporters falling in behind him. The pressure disappeared in the room and suddenly everyone was speaking, chuckling or looking thoughtfully at each other.
Marius stood and immediately there was quiet.
‘Thank you for your trust, gentlemen. I will guard this city well against all comers.’ Gaius noted that Sulla could well be one of those Marius would guard against, when he returned.
Senators crowded around his uncle, a few shaking his hand in open congratulation. Marius pulled Gaius to him with one hand and reached out with the other to take the shoulder of a scrawny man, who smiled at them both.
‘Crassus, this is my nephew, Gaius. You would not believe it to look at him, but Crassus here is probably the richest man in Rome.’
The man had a long, thin neck and his head bobbed at the end of it, with warm brown eyes twinkling in a mass of tiny wrinkles.
‘I have been blessed by the gods, it is true. I also have two beautiful daughters.’
Marius chuckled. ‘One is tolerably attractive, Crassus, but the other takes after her father.’
Internally, Gaius winced at this, but Crassus didn’t seem to mind at all. He laughed ruefully.
‘That is true, she is a little bony. I will have to give her a large dowry to tempt the young men of Rome.’ He faced Gaius and put out his hand. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, young man. Will you be a general like your uncle?’
‘I will,’ Gaius said seriously.
Crassus smiled. ‘Then you will need money. Come to me when you need a backer?’
Gaius took the offered hand, gripping it briefly before Crassus moved away into the crowd.
Marius leaned over to him and muttered in his ear, ‘Well done. He has been a loyal friend to me and he has incredible wealth. I will arrange for you to visit his estate, it is astonishing in its opulence. Now, there is one other I want you to meet. Come with me.’
Gaius followed him through the knots of senators as they talked over the events of the day and Sulla’s humiliation. Gaius noted that Marius shook hands with every man who met his eye, saying a few words of congratulation, asking after families and absent friends. He left each group smiling.
Across the other side of the Senate hall, a group of three men were talking quietly, stopping as soon as Marius and Gaius approached.
‘This is the man, Gaius,’ Marius said cheerfully. ‘Gnaeus Pompey, who is described by his supporters as the best field general Rome has at present – when I am ill, or out of the country.’
Pompey shook hands with them both, smiling affably. Unlike the spare Crassus, he was a little overweight, but he was as tall as Marius and carried it well, creating an impression of solid bulk. Gaius guessed him to be no more than thirty, which made his military status very impressive.
‘There is no possibility about it, Marius,’ Pompey replied. ‘Truly I am wondrous in the field of battle. Strong men weep at the beauty of my manoeuvres.’
Marius laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.
Pompey looked Gaius up and down. ‘A younger version of you, old fox?’ he said to Marius.
‘What else could he be, with my blood in his veins?’
Pompey clasped his hands behind his back.
‘Your uncle has taken a terrible risk today, by pushing Sulla out of Rome. What did you think of it?’
Marius began to reply, but Pompey held up a hand.
‘Let him speak, old fox. Let me see if he has anything to him.’
Gaius answered without hesitation, the words coming surprisingly easily.
‘It is a dangerous move to offend Sulla, but my uncle enjoys gambles of this kind. Sulla is the servant of the city and will fight well against this foreign king. When he returns, he will have to make an accommodation with my uncle. Perhaps we can extend the barracks so that both legions can protect the city.’
Pompey blinked and turned to Marius. ‘Is he a fool?’
Marius chuckled. ‘No. He just doesn’t know if I trust you or not. I suspect he has already guessed my plans.’
‘What will your uncle do when Sulla returns?’ Pompey whispered, close to Gaius’ ear.
Gaius looked around, but there was no one close enough to overhear, except for the three Marius obviously trusted.
‘He will close the gates. If Sulla tries to force an entry, the Senate will have to declare him an enemy of Rome. He will have to either begin a siege or retreat. I suspect he will put himself at Marius’ command, as any general in the field might do to the consul of Rome.’
Pompey agreed, unblinking. ‘A dangerous path, Marius, as I said. I cannot support you openly, but I will do my best for you in private. Congratulations on your triumphal march. You looked splendid.’ He gestured to the two with him and they walked away.
Gaius began to speak again, but Marius shook his head.
‘Let us go outside, the air is thick with intrigue in here.’ They moved towards the doors and, outside, Marius put a finger to his lips to stop Gaius’ questions. ‘Not here. There are too many listeners.’
Gaius glanced around and saw that some of Sulla’s senators wer
e close, staring over with undisguised hostility. He followed Marius out into the forum, taking a seat on the stone steps away from where they could be overheard. Nearby, the First-Born still stood to attention, looking invincible in their shining armour. It was a peculiar feeling to be in the presence of thousands and yet to sit relaxed with his uncle on the very steps of the Senate.
Gaius could not hold it in any longer.
‘How did you swing the vote against Sulla?’
Marius began to laugh and wiped his forehead free of sudden perspiration.
‘Planning, my lad. I knew of the landing of Mithridates almost as soon as it happened, days before Sulla heard. I used the oldest lever in the world to persuade the waverers in the Senate to vote for me and, even then, it was closer than I would have liked. It cost me a fortune, but from tomorrow morning I have control of Rome.’
‘He will be back, though,’ Gaius warned.
Marius snorted. ‘In six months or longer, perhaps. He could be killed on the battlefield, he could even lose to Mithridates; I have heard he is a canny general. Even if Sulla beats him in double time and finds fair sea winds to Greece and back, I will have months to prepare. He will leave as easily as he likes, but I tell you now, he won’t get back in without a fight.’
Gaius shook his head in disbelief at this confirmation of his thoughts.
‘What happens now? Do we go back to your house?’
Marius smiled a little sadly in response. ‘No. I had to sell it for the bribes – Sulla was already bribing them, you see, and I had to double his offers in most cases. It took everything I own, except my horse, my sword and my armour. I may be the first penniless general Rome has ever had.’ He laughed quietly.
‘If you had lost the vote, you would have lost everything!’ Gaius whispered, shocked by the stakes.
The Emperor Series: Books 1-5 Page 21