Conn Iggulden - The Death Of Kings

When he came storming into the room, her eyes widened nervously.

“What is it?” she asked.

Julius frowned at Clodia in response, knowing as Tubruk had that making Cornelia part of the secret would only increase her risk. Tubruk followed him in and shared a glance with the old nurse, nodding his head a fraction to confirm what she had guessed. Julius spoke urgently, relieved to find her safe. The run home had been an agony for him as he tormented himself with images of assassins creeping through the house to hurt her.

“I think you could be in danger from the friends of Sulla. Pompey lost his daughter and he was close to Marius. I should have thought of it before! It could be that those who seek to avenge the Dictator are striking at his enemies even now, hoping to catch the real assassin in their nets. I will have to send for some of Primigenia to guard you here and get messengers to Crassus. He could be another target. Gods, and Brutus even! Though he's well protected, at least.”

He paced around the room, his bare chest still heaving from the sprint home.

“I will have to use guile against them, but I cannot leave those men alive. One way or another, I will have to break the back of their alliance in Sulla's name. We cannot live expecting the assassin's knife.” He turned suddenly and pointed at the estate manager, standing bathed in sweat by the door.

“Tubruk, I want you to keep my family safe until this is over. If I have to be in Rome, I need someone I can trust to look after my family here.”

The older man straightened with dignity. He would not mention the wild threats Julius had made on the run, but trying to guess the way Julius's constantly spinning mind would change next was beyond him.

“You want me here?” he said, the words carrying a meaning that made Julius stop his pacing.

“Yes. I was wrong. My mother needs you. I need you more than ever. Who else can I trust?”

Tubruk nodded his understanding, knowing the conversation on the hill would not be mentioned again. The young man who paced like a leopard was not one to dwell on the mistakes of the past.

“Who is the threat?” Cornelia asked, holding her head high against the fear that had swelled in her.

“Cato leads them, with his followers. Antonidus perhaps. Even Suetonius's father may be part of it. They will be behind it, or know of it,” Julius replied. Cornelia shuddered at the name of the general she remembered. Her husband swore as a thought struck him.

“I should have killed Sulla's dog when I had the chance. He was just a few feet from me outside Marius's gate. If he had a hand in the murder of Pompey's daughter, he is more of a danger than I realized. Gods, I have been blind!”

“You must see Pompey, then. He is your ally, whether he realizes it or not,” Tubruk said quickly.

“And Crassus, and your father Cinna too,” Julius replied, motioning to Cornelia. “I must meet with all of them.”

As Cornelia sank back onto the couch, Julius went down on one knee and took her hand in his.

“I will not let anything harm you, I promise. I can make this place a fortress with fifty men.”

She saw his need to protect her in his eyes. Not love, but the duty of a husband. She'd thought she had grown numb to loss, but to see his face so cold and earnest was worse than anything.

Forcing a smile, Cornelia pressed a hand to his cheek, still warm from the run. A fortress, or a prison? she thought.

When riders were sighted on the road from the city two days later, Julius and Brutus roused the estate in minutes. Renius had brought fifty of Primigenia from their barracks, and by the time the riders approached the gates, it would have taken an army to breach their defenses. There were archers on every wall and Cornelia was hidden with the others in a new suite of rooms Julius had designated for exactly this purpose. Clodia had taken Julia down without an argument, but precious time had been lost moving Aurelia, who understood nothing of what was happening.

Julius stood alone in the courtyard, watching as Tubruk and Renius took their final positions. Octavian had been sent down with the women, over his furious protests. Everything became still and Julius nodded to himself. The estate was secure.

With his sword sheathed, he climbed the steps to the ledge above the gate and watched as the riders halted at a distance, made wary by the sudden show of force on the walls. A carriage moved up between them, drawn by twin horses who pranced forward a last few reluctant steps, sensing the tension. Julius watched without speaking as one of the riders dismounted and laid a cloth of silk in the dust.

Cato stepped ponderously out onto it, adjusting the folds of his toga with delicate attention. The dust of the road had not touched him, and he looked up into Julius's eyes without expression before motioning to his men to dismount and approach the gate.

Behind his back, Julius raised his fingers to signal the number of strangers. There were too few for an open attack, but Julius was uncomfortable having such a man anywhere near those he loved. He tensed his jaw as they walked into the shadow of the gate. Brutus had told him about Cato's son, but there was nothing he could do to change what had happened. Like Brutus, he would just have to see it through.

A fist thumped against the heavy beams of the gate.

“Who calls on my house?” Julius said, looking Cato in the eye below. The man stared back impassively, content to wait through the formalities. He would know better than anyone what turmoil was going on in Julius's mind. A senator could not be refused.

A soldier at Cato's side spoke loudly enough for his voice to carry into the house. “Senator Cato desires entrance on a private matter. Dismiss your men and open this gate.”

Julius did not reply, instead descending into the yard and conferring quickly with Brutus and Tubruk. The defenders on the walls were brought down and sent into the buildings to await a call to arms. The others were given tasks that allowed them to remain close. It was farcical to see armed men taking horses from the stable and grooming them in the open, but Julius was not in the mood for risk and as he opened the gate himself, he wondered if blood would be spilled in the next hour.

Cato passed through the gate, smiling slightly as he saw the numbers of armed men in the area.

“Expecting a war, Caesar?” he said.

“A legion must drill, Senator. I would not like to be caught unprepared,” Julius replied. He frowned as Cato's men entered behind their master. He had to allow it, but he thanked his house gods for his foresight in bringing so many of Primigenia out of the city barracks. Cato's men would be dead in seconds if he gave the order. Their faces showed they understood this as well as anyone as their horses were led away, leaving them exposed in the open courtyard.

Cato looked at him. “Are you now the general of Primigenia, then? I do not recall an application having been made at the Senate house.” His voice was light and without threat, but Julius stiffened, knowing he had to watch every word.

“It has yet to be made official, but I speak for them,” he replied. Courtesy demanded he offer the senator a seat and refreshment after his journey, but he could not bring himself to utter the fictions of politeness, even knowing Cato would take it as a small triumph.

Renius and Brutus moved to Julius's side and Cato looked from one to the other, seemingly unaffected by the men he faced.

“Very well, Julius. I will speak to you of my son,” Cato said. “I have offered gold for him and had it refused. I have come tonight to ask what you do want for him.”

He raised his head and Julius saw his deep-set eyes were bright. He wondered if this man had ordered the killing of Pompey's daughter. Would the risk be lessened from him if he handed Germinius back to his father? Or would it be seen as a weakness that Cato would use to scatter his house in ashes?