Conn Iggulden - The Death Of Kings

With the rest of the court, he stood to receive the magistrates, bowing as they entered. The soldiers who had accompanied them from the Senate building took up their posts in a second line between the crowd and the court, their hands on their swords. Julius's heart sank. If they were expecting trouble, it could be the magistrates had warned them of the verdict already.

The three judges moved to their seats with slow dignity. Julius tried to catch their eyes as they settled, desperate for some clue of what was to come. They gave nothing away and the crowd became silent as the tension grew, waiting for them.

The magistrate who had spoken throughout the proceedings rose ponderously to his feet, his expression grim.

“Hear our verdict, Rome,” he called. “We have searched for truth and speak as law.”

Julius held his breath unconsciously and the silence that surrounded them seemed almost painful after the crashing cheers and chants before.

“I find in favor of General Antonidus,” the man said, his head and neck stiff. The crowd roared in anger, then a hush fell again as the second judge rose.

“I too find in favor of Antonidus,” he said, his gaze swinging over the unruly chaos of the crowd. A fresh bellow of jeers followed his words and Julius felt suddenly dizzy with reaction.

The tribune stood and looked over the crowd and the bronze images of Marius, his gaze at last falling on Julius.

“As tribune, I have the right to veto the judgments of my fellow magistrates. It is not a path I would choose lightly, and I have weighed the arguments with care.” He paused for emphasis and every eye was on him.

“I exercise that veto today. The judgment is with Caesar,” he said.

The crowd went berserk with joy and the chant of “Ma-ri-us” could be heard again, louder than ever.

Julius collapsed in his chair, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Well done, lad.” Quintus smiled toothlessly at him. “There's a lot of people who will know your name if you ever stand for higher office. I did enjoy the way you used those shields of yours. Showy, but they like that. Congratulations.”

Julius let out a long slow breath, still light-headed from being so close to catastrophe. His legs felt shaky under him as he crossed the floor to where Antonidus sat. Loudly enough for the magistrates to hear him over the crowd, he took the first part of his revenge for Cornelia.

“I lay hands on you for the sum of thirty thousand sesterces,” he said, gripping Antonidus's robe roughly.

The man stiffened in helpless rage, his eyes searching out Cato in the crowd on the benches. Julius too turned, still keeping his grip. He saw Cato meet the general's eyes and then slowly shake his head, his expression one of distaste. Antonidus seemed dazed at the turn in his fortunes.

“I do not have the money,” he said.

Rufius interrupted at Julius's side. “It is customary to allow thirty days to pay such a large debt.”

Julius smiled without humor. “No. I will have the money now, or the general will be trussed and sold as a slave in the markets.”

Antonidus struggled violently in his grip, unable to break it.

“You can't! Cato! You cannot allow me to be taken!” he shouted as Cato turned his back on him and prepared to leave the court. Pompey was in the crowd, watching the scene with avid interest. The general retained enough sense to stop his mouth from blurting out the secrets of the assassins. Either Pompey or Cato or the assassins themselves would have him tortured and killed at such a revelation.

Brutus stepped from his bench to stand by Julius. He carried a rope in his hands.

“Bind him, Brutus, but gently. I want to get as much as I can for him on the slave blocks,” Julius said harshly, letting his anger and contempt spill out for a moment.

Brutus completed the task with quick efficiency, finally gagging Antonidus to muffle his roaring. The magistrates looked on without a reaction, knowing the action was within the law, though the pair that had voted against Julius were red with silent anger.

When the job was done, Rufius caught Julius's attention with a hand on his arm.

“You spoke well, Caesar, but Quintus is too old to be a choice of jurist for the future. I hope you will remember my name if you need an advocate yourself?”

Julius stared at him. “I am unlikely to forget you, I think,” he said.

With Antonidus bound and claimed for slavery, the praetor dismissed the court and the crowd cheered again. Although Cato had moved first, most of the other senators stepped quickly down from the benches, clearly uncomfortable in the presence of such a large mob of the citizens they represented.

Together, Julius and Brutus dragged the prone general over the floor of the court, depositing him roughly against the platform that held the shields.

Alexandria stepped around the milling senators to reach Julius, her eyes bright with the triumph.

“Well done. I thought they had you there for a moment.”

“So did I. I must thank the tribune for what he did. He saved my life.”

Brutus snorted. “He's one of the people, remember. They would have torn him apart if he'd judged against you like the others. Gods, look at them!” Brutus waved his arm at the citizens who clustered as close as they could to catch a glimpse of Julius.

“Stand up by the shields and acknowledge them,” Alexandria said, beaming at him. Whatever else happened, she knew her work would be in demand and fetch huge prices from the good and the great of Rome.

Julius stood and the crowd cheered him. A new chant started and a pleased flush started across his cheeks as he heard his own name slowly supplanting that of Marius.

He raised an arm in salute and knew what Quintus had said was right. The name of Caesar would stay in their minds, and who knew where that could take him?

The morning sun had risen to light the forum and gleam off the surfaces of the bronze shields Alexandria had created. They glowed and Julius smiled at the sight of them, hoping Marius could see them, wherever he was.

The first warmth of spring was in the morning air as Julius ran through his beloved woods, feeling his legs stretch away the tensions of the days. With the excitement of the trial behind him, he spent most of his time with Renius and Brutus at the Primigenia barracks, returning home only to sleep. The men he had recruited in Africa and Greece were shaping well, and there was a new excitement amongst the original survivors as they saw Marius's beloved legion alive once more. The men Cato had procured for them were young and unscarred. Julius had been tempted to question them about their pasts, but resisted the impulse. Nothing before their oath mattered, no matter what Cato held over them. They would learn that in time. Renius spent every waking hour with them, using the experienced men to help him drill and train the new ones.

Though they were still at less than half strength, the word had been sent out to other cities and Crassus had promised to pay as many as they could call to the Primigenia standard. The debt to him was at a dizzy level, but Julius had agreed to it. For all the gold from Celsus, it took a fortune to make a legion, and Crassus stood against the Sullans, as he did. The vast sums simmered at the back of Julius's mind, ignored. Every day brought footsore travelers from all over the country, lured by the promises of scouts in distant provinces. It was an exciting time and as the sun set each evening, Julius left them reluctantly, looking forward only to the coldest of welcomes at his home.

Though they shared a bed, she jumped when he touched her and then she would rage at him until his temper snapped or he left to find a couch in another room. Every night was worse and he went to sleep tormented by longing for her. He missed her old self and sometimes he turned to her to share a thought or a joke only to find her face filled with a bitterness he could not begin to understand. At times, he was tempted to take another room and have a slave girl brought to him just to give him ease. He knew she'd hate him then and he suffered through the long nights until a constant snapping anger colored his waking hours and sleep was the only peace. He dreamed of Alexandria.