Conn Iggulden - The Death Of Kings

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.

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.

The gate guards must have been told to expect them and waved the soldiers through without a halt. Once inside, though, with the heavy gate closed behind them, Julius found himself in a killing ground similar to the one between the walls at Mytilene. Any one of the buildings that faced the main yard could have been lined with archers, and with no way to retreat, the only forward path was a narrow one that was itself interrupted with wall slits for more. Julius shrugged as his centuries halted in order, dressing their ranks until they filled the yard in a perfect square.

Julius wondered how long Brutus would keep him waiting. It was a difficult thing to predict after so long away from his oldest friend. The boy he had known would have been there already, but the man who led the remnants of Primigenia had changed a great deal in their time apart-perhaps enough to bury the boy; he didn't yet know.

With no outward sign of his impatience, Julius stood impassively with his men as the minutes stretched. He did need the barracks, and from what Tubruk had said, they were as good as Brutus claimed. With Crassus behind the purchase, the purse was heavy enough to buy the best in the city, after all. While he waited, Julius considered buying part of the barracks out of Crassus's hands. Privately, he agreed with Tubruk that the relationship the rich senator was fostering could be a thorn for the future, no matter how friendly he appeared at present.

Brutus strode out of the main building with Renius at his side. With interest, Julius saw the capped stump of Renius's left arm, though he kept his face still. Brutus looked furious and Julius's hopes died in him.

As Brutus reached him, he halted stiffly, giving the salute from one equal to another. Julius returned it without hesitation. For a second, Julius felt pain at the space that separated them before his resolve firmed. He would not give way. Brutus wasn't someone he wanted to use his wits to flatter and control. That sort of manipulation was for enemies or formal allies, not for the boy he'd caught a raven with, so many years before.

“Welcome to Primigenia barracks, Tribune,” Brutus said.

Julius shook his head at the formal tone. A touch of irritation spiked in him and he spoke to Renius, ignoring Brutus. “It is good to see you, old friend. Can't you make him understand these men are not Primigenia?”

Renius looked impassively back at him for a moment before replying.

“This is not a time to split your strength, lad. The choosing day on the Campus is over this year-there'll be no extra men for another legion. You two should stop puffing your chests at each other and make peace.”

Julius snorted in irritation. “By the gods, Brutus, what would you have me do? Primigenia can't have two commanders and my men are sworn to me alone. I found them in villages and made them into legionaries from scratch. You can't expect me to hand them over to another commander after everything they've been through with me.”

“I thought… you of all people would want to see Primigenia strong again.”

“As a tribune, I can levy troops for you. I'll send around the country for them. I swear we'll remake Primigenia. I owe Marius as much as you, and more.”

Brutus's eyes searched his own, judging his words. “But will you be building your own legion as well? Will you apply for a new name to be added to the rolls?” he asked, his voice tight with tension.

Julius hesitated and Renius cleared his throat to speak. The habit of years of obedience made them wait for him. He looked Julius in the eye, holding him.

“Loyalty is a rare thing, boy, but Brutus risked his life for you when he had Primigenia put back on the rolls. Men like Cato stand against him now and he did it for you. There's no conflict. Primigenia is your legion, can't you see that? Your men can swear to service under a new oath and still be yours.”

Julius looked at the two men and it was like looking back into his childhood. Reluctantly, he shook his head. “There cannot be two commanders,” he said.

Brutus stared at him. “Are you asking me to take the oath to you? To hand over command?”

“How else could you be my sword, Brutus? But I can't ask you to lay down the rank you always dreamed of having. It is too much.” Julius took his arm gently.

“No,” Brutus murmured, suddenly firming his resolve. “It is not too much. We have older oaths between us and I always swore I would be there when you called. Are you calling now?”

Julius took a long, slow breath, weighing his friend and feeling his heart thud in his chest with a sudden burst of speed.

“I call,” he said quietly.

Brutus nodded firmly, the decision made. “Then I will take the vow with these Wolves of yours, and we will begin this day with Primigenia reborn.”

Keeping a guard of only five of his men, Julius strode through the busy city streets following the directions Tubruk had supplied. His spirits were light as he moved through the crowds. He had his uncle's house safe in his possession and well guarded by twenty soldiers. Even more important, the problem of what to do with Primigenia had been resolved. Silently, he blessed Brutus and Renius for their loyalty to him. Even in his pride, part of him whispered that in the end he had manipulated their love for him as coldly as any enemy. There had been no other way, he told himself, but the inner voice would not be still.

Not far from Marius's house, Julius found Tabbic's shop easily. As he came close to it, excitement filled him. He hadn't seen Alexandria since his wedding day and at first had been frightened to ask Tubruk if she'd survived the vicious fighting that followed his own flight from the city. As he put his hand to the door, he hesitated, experiencing a touch of the old nervousness that had plagued him in her presence. He shook his head in amusement as he recognized the feeling, then went in, his men blocking the narrow walkway outside.

Alexandria was standing only a few paces from the door, and she turned to greet whoever had entered. She laughed at seeing him, with the simple pleasure of meeting an old friend. She was standing with a gold necklace around her throat, with Tabbic working on the catch behind her.

Julius drank in the sight of her. The gold lit her throat with its reflection, and she seemed to have found a poise or a confidence that had been missing when he knew her before.