The Death of Kings

by Conn Iggulden

  “I'll fetch her for you,” he said, and left the room.

  * * *

  As the noon shadow marked the sundial of the forum, Julius entered the great expanse with his guards, taking a direct route to the Senate building. As he crossed the open space, he was struck by the changes in the city since he'd left. The fortifications Marius had raised along the walls had been dismantled, and there were only a few legionaries to be seen. Even they were relaxed, walking with their mistresses or standing in small groups chatting, without a sign of the tension he had expected. It was a city at peace again and a shudder passed through him as he walked over the flat gray stones. He had brought ten soldiers of his command into the city, wanting them close while he was out of armor and in his formal robe. Such a precaution seemed unnecessary and he didn't know if he was pleased or sorry. The battle for the walls was as fresh in his mind as if he had never left, but the people enjoying the spring sunshine laughed and joked with each other, blind to the scenes that flashed into his mind. He saw Marius fallen again and the clash of dark figures as Sulla's forces cut down the defenders around their general.

  His mouth twisted in bitterness as he considered how young and full of joy he had been that night. Fresh from the marriage bed, he had seen all their dreams and planning crushed and his own future altered forever. If they had beaten Sulla, if they had only beaten Sulla, Rome would have been spared years of brutality and the Republic might have regained some of its former dignity.

  He halted his men at the bottom of the wide marble steps, and despite the contented mood in the forum, he told them to remain alert. After the death of Marius, he had learned it was ultimately safer to expect trouble, even by the Senate building.

  Leaving his men to stand in the sun, Julius looked up at the studded bronze doors that had been unbarred for the assembly. Senators stood in pairs and threes, discussing the issues of the day as they waited for the gathering to be called. Julius saw his father-in-law, Cinna, with Crassus and walked up the steps to greet them. They had their heads close together as they talked, and Julius saw anger and frustration on their faces. Crassus was still the thin brown stick of a man Julius remembered, disdaining any sign of his wealth in his simple white robe and sandals. He had seen Cinna last at his wedding to Cornelia, and of the pair of senators, he had changed the most in the intervening years. As he turned to greet Julius, the younger man was struck by the wrinkles that had cut into his face, the visible effects of his worries. Cinna smiled tiredly at him and Julius returned it uncomfortably, never having got to know the man properly.

  “‘The wanderer returns to us, his sword and bow at rest,' ” Crassus quoted. “Your uncle would be proud of you if he were here.”

  “Thank you. I was just thinking of him,” Julius replied. “Seeing the city again is hard after so long, especially here. I keep expecting to hear his voice.”

  “It was forbidden even to mention his name while Sulla was alive, did you know?” Crassus asked, watching him for a reaction.

  Only a slight tightening of the mouth betrayed the young man's feelings. “Sulla's desires meant little to me while he lived; less so now,” he said flatly. “I would like to visit the tomb of Marius after the Senate meeting, to pay my respects.”

  Crassus and Cinna exchanged glances and Crassus touched him on the arm in sympathy.

  “I'm sorry, his remains were taken and scattered. It was some of Sulla's soldiers, though he denied it. I think that was why he left instructions to be cremated himself, though friends of Marius wouldn't stoop so low.”

  He dropped his hand as Julius tensed with anger, visibly struggling to remain controlled. Crassus spoke calmly, giving him time to compose himself.

  “The Dictator's legacy still plagues us in the form of his followers in Senate. Cato is first amongst them, and Catalus and Bibilus seem content to follow his lead in everything. I believe you know Senator Prandus, whose son you were captured with?”

  Julius nodded. “I have some business to discuss with him after the meeting today,” he replied, once again giving the outward appearance of calm. Surreptitiously, he held his right hand in his left, suddenly worried that the emotions that swelled in him would begin a fit on the very steps of the Senate and disgrace him forever. Crassus affected not to notice anything was wrong, for which Julius was grateful.

  “Have a care with Prandus, Julius,” Crassus said sternly, leaning in close so that the senators entering the building couldn't overhear them. “He has powerful connections with the Sullans now, and Cato counts him as a friend.”

  Julius inclined his head even closer to Crassus and whispered harshly, “Those who were friends to Sulla are enemies of mine.”

  Without another word, he turned from the pair to ascend the final steps to the doors and disappear into the shadowed hall within.

  Crassus and Cinna looked at each other with guarded surmise as they followed at a slower pace.

  “Our aims converge, it seems,” Cinna said quietly.

  Crassus nodded curtly, unwilling to discuss it further as they moved amongst their colleagues to their seats, passing enemies and friends alike.

  Julius felt the vibrant energy of the gathering as soon as he entered it. There were few vacant places and he had to take a position in the third row back from the speaker's rostrum. He took in the sights and sounds with satisfaction, knowing he had finally returned to the heart of power. Seeing so many strangers, he wished for a moment that he had stayed with Crassus and his father-in-law for them to name the new faces. For the moment, however, he was content just to watch and learn, overlooked by the predators until he had better defenses. He smiled tightly to himself at the vision of battle that the Senate represented to him. It was a false one, he knew. Here, the enemies could be the ones who greeted him most fondly, then set assassins on him as soon as they turned away. His father had always been disparaging of the bulk of the nobilitas, though he'd admitted a grudging respect for the few that held honor above politics.

  The assembly became quiet and an elderly consul Julius did not know began the day's oath. As one, they stood for the solemn words: “We who are Rome pledge our lives for her peace, our strength for her own, and our honor for her citizens.”

  Julius repeated the chanted words with the others and felt the beginnings of excitement. The heart of the world was beating still. He listened with utter concentration to the agenda of discussions they would undertake, and managed to remain outwardly unaffected as the consul came to “the post of tribune to be awarded to Gaius Julius Caesar for his actions in Greece.” A few of those who knew him turned to watch his reaction, but he showed them nothing, pleased for the warning he had bought from the messenger. He resolved to hire advisers there and then to help him understand every one of the issues of the day. He would need expert jurists to prepare the law cases he would undertake as soon as he was awarded the first post of his political career. He was grimly certain that the first trial before magistrates would be against Antonidus after he took back his uncle's house. That the arguments would have to involve a public defense of Marius gave him a great deal of satisfaction.

  Cato was easy to recognise by his bulk, though Julius didn't remember seeing him on his only other visit to the Senate house, years before. The senator was obscenely large and his features almost seemed to have been smothered in the billowing folds of flesh, so that the real man looked out from somewhere deep within the face. He had a coterie of friends and supporters around him, and Julius could see from the deference shown that he was a man of influence, even as Crassus had warned. Suetonius's father was there and their eyes met momentarily before the older man looked away, pretending he hadn't seen. A moment later the man whispered something in Cato's ear, and Julius found himself the subject of a stare that seemed amused rather than worried. With an impassive expression, Julius marked the man in his mind as an enemy. He noted with interest the way Cato's eyes flickered to fasten on Pompey as he entered and took a seat his own supporters had held for him.r />
  Julius too watched Pompey, judging the changes in the man. The tendency toward softness of flesh had gone from Pompey's figure. He looked trim and hard-muscled as a soldier should, a greyhound compared to Cato. His skin was burned dark and Julius remembered he had spent time in Spain overseeing the legions there. No doubt the task of dealing with the rebellious tribes of the provinces had melted the fat from him.

  Pompey rose smoothly for the first item and spoke on the need for a force to be sent against the sea pirates, estimating they had a thousand ships and two thousand villages and towns in their control. Given his own bitter experiences, Julius listened with interest, a little shocked that the situation had been allowed to get so far out of hand. He was amazed when others stood to refute Pompey's figures and argue against stretching their forces further.

  “I could clear the seas in forty days if I had ships and men,” Pompey snapped in return, but the vote passed against him and he took his seat again, his brows knotted in frustration.

  Julius voted in three other matters, noticing Pompey, Crassus, and Cinna matched his views on each occasion. On all three they were defeated and Julius felt his own frustration rise. A slave revolt near Vesuvius had proved difficult to put down, but instead of sending a crushing force, the Senate gave permission for only one legion to deal with them. Julius shook his head in disbelief. He hadn't realized at first how cautious the Senate had become. From his experiences with Marius and his own battles, Julius knew an empire had to be strong to survive, yet many of the senators were blind to the problems facing their commanders around the Mare Internum. At the end of an hour of speeches, Julius had a far better understanding of the annoyance felt by men like Prax and Gaditicus at the ditherers of the Senate. He had expected to see a nobility of action and aspect to match the oath they had taken, not petty bickering and factions opposing each other.

  Lost in these thoughts, he missed hearing the next item and only the sound of his own name broke his reverie.

  “. . . Caesar, who shall be awarded the post of military tribune with all rights and honors in our thanks for the defeat of Mithridates in Greece, and the taking of two pirate vessels.”

  All the senators stood, with even Cato levering himself ponderously onto his feet.

  Julius grinned boyishly as they cheered him and pretended not to notice the ones who stood in silence, though he marked every face as his gaze swept round the packed rows.

  He sat down with his heart beating in excitement. A tribune could levy troops and he knew three hundred not far away who would be the first to join his command. Cato caught his eye and nodded to him, testing. Julius returned the gesture with an open smile. It would not do to warn the man he had a new enemy.

  * * *

  As the bronze doors were once again thrown open to admit daylight into the Senate house, Julius moved quickly to intercept Suetonius's father as he made his way out.

  “I would like a word, Senator,” he said, interrupting a conversation.

  Senator Prandus turned to him, raising his eyebrow in surprise. “I can't imagine that we have anything to discuss, Caesar,” he replied.

  Julius ignored the cold tone and went on as if the matter were between friends. “It's the land my estate manager sold you to pay my ransom. You know I was successful in getting the gold back, including your own son's. I would like to meet with you to discuss the price to return it to my family.”

  The senator shook his head slightly. “I'm afraid you will be disappointed. I have wanted to expand my holdings for some time, and I have plans to build another house there for my son once those woods have been cleared. I'm sorry I can't help you.”

  He smiled tightly at Julius and would have turned back to his companions. Julius reached out and took his arm, only to have his grip shaken off with a quick jerk. Senator Prandus's face flushed with anger at the touch.

  “Have a care, young man. You are in the Senate house, not some distant village. If you touch me again, I will have you arrested. From what my son has told me, you are not the sort of person I want to do business with.”

  “He may also have mentioned that I am not a good person to have as an enemy,” Julius murmured, keeping his voice low so that it would not be overheard.

  The senator froze for a moment as he considered the threat, then turned away stiff-necked to catch up with Cato as he passed through the doors.

  Thoughtfully, Julius watched him go. He had expected something similar from the man, though the news of a house to be built on his old land was a blow. At the peak of the hill, it would look down on his estate, a position of superiority that would no doubt give Suetonius enormous satisfaction. He looked around for Crassus and Cinna, wanting to speak to them before they left for their homes. In a way, what Suetonius's father had said was true. Using force in Rome would lead quickly to disaster. He would have to be subtle.

  “First is Antonidus, though,” he muttered under his breath. Force would do very well there.

  CHAPTER 29

  Walking through the city at the head of his ten soldiers sparked painful memories as Julius made his way to the street of Marius's old home. He remembered the excitement he'd felt as the storm of energy around the general had caught him up in its wake. Each street and turning reminded him of that first clattering journey to the Senate, surrounded by the hardest men of Primigenia. How old had he been then, fourteen? Old enough to understand the lesson that the law would bend for strength. Even Sulla had quailed before the soldiers in the forum, on stones made wet with the blood of the heaving crowds. Marius had been granted the Triumph he wanted and the consulship that followed, though Sulla had brought him down at the end. Grief sat heavily on Julius as he wished for just one more moment with the golden general.

  None of Julius's men had ever seen Rome before, and four of them were from small villages along the African coast. They struggled not to stare, but it was a losing battle as they saw the mythical city made real before their eyes.

  Ciro seemed awed simply by the numbers of people they passed in the bustling streets, and Julius saw the city with fresh eyes through the big man's reactions. There was nowhere like it in the world. The smells of food and spices blended with shouts and hammering, and woven through the crowds were tunics and togas of blue and red and gold. It was a feast of the senses and Julius enjoyed their wonder, remembering how he had ridden at Marius's shoulder on a gilded chariot, every street filled with cheering people. The sweet glory of it was mixed in memory with the pain of what came after, but still, he had been there, on that day.

  Even with only the largest roads named, Julius remembered the way without difficulty, almost unconsciously taking the exact route he had taken on his first visit after passing through the forum. Gradually, the streets became less crowded and cleaner as they rose above the valley of winding tenements and climbed the paved hill road that was lined with modest doors and gates, each hiding splendor within.

  Julius halted his men a few hundred feet from the gate he remembered, and approached alone. As he drew up to it, a small, stocky figure dressed in a simple slave tunic and sandals came up to the bars to greet him. Although the man smiled politely, Julius noticed his eyes flicked up and down the road with automatic caution.

  “I have come to speak to the owner of the house,” Julius said, smiling and relaxed.

  “General Antonidus is not here,” the gatekeeper replied warily.

  Julius nodded as if he had expected the news. “I will have to wait for him then. He must have the news I carry.”

  “You can't come in while—” the man began.

  With a jerk of his arm, Julius reached through the bars as he had once seen Renius do. The gatekeeper pulled back as he moved and almost made it, but Julius's fingers found a grip in the tunic and yanked him hard into the bars.

  “Open the gate,” Julius said into the man's ear as he struggled.

  “I won't! If you knew the man this house belongs to, you wouldn't dare. You will be dead before sunset unless you
let me go!”

  Julius heaved with his whole weight to jam the man against the bars. “I do know him. I own this house. Now open the door or I will kill you.”

  “Kill me then—you won't get in, even so,” the man snapped, still struggling wildly.

  He filled his lungs to call for help and Julius grinned suddenly at his courage. Without another word, he reached through the bars with his other hand and took the key to the gate from the man's belt. The gatekeeper gasped in outrage and Julius gave a low whistle for his men to approach.

  “Hold this one and keep him quiet. I need both hands to work the lock and bar,” Julius ordered. “Don't hurt him. He's a brave man.”

  “Help!” the gatekeeper managed before Ciro's heavy hands clamped his mouth.

  Julius fiddled the key into the hole in the plate and smiled as it clicked. He raised the bar and the gate swung open as two guards clattered into the courtyard beyond, their swords raised.

  Julius's men moved in quickly to disarm them. Against so many, the two guards dropped their swords as they were surrounded, though the gatekeeper went crimson with rage as he watched. He tried to bite Ciro's hand and was cuffed roughly in response.

  “Tie them up and search the house. Do not spill blood,” Julius ordered, watching coolly as his men broke into pairs to search the house he knew so well.

  It had hardly changed. The fountain was still there and Antonidus had left the gardens as he had found them. Julius could see the spot where he had kissed Alexandria and could have traced his way to her room in the slave quarters without a guide. It was easy to imagine Marius bellowing laughter somewhere out of sight, and Julius would have given a great deal at that moment to see the big man once again. The sudden sadness of memory weighed him down.

  He didn't recognize any of the slaves or servants that were brought out and tied in the courtyard by his men, working with cheerful efficiency. One or two of his legionaries bore scratches on their faces from a struggle, but Julius was pleased to see that none of the prisoners had been harmed even so. If he was to be successful in appealing a law case and reestablish his right to the house as surviving heir, he knew it was important that it was achieved peacefully. The magistrates would be members of the nobilitas, and any stories of bloodshed in the middle of the city would prejudice them against him from the start.