Conn Iggulden - The Field Of Swords

Bibilus slumped, his eyes filling with tears. “Please…” he whispered.

Suetonius patted him on the shoulder. “There is no need to mention it again, Bibi. Friends do not desert each other,” he said, rubbing the damp flesh comfortingly.

“One hundred days, Servilia,” Julius said as he took her in his arms on the steps of the Senate. “I have men searching the law cases to come. I’ll choose the best of them to make my name, and the tribes will come to listen. Gods, there’s so much to do! I need you to contact everyone with debts to my family. I need runners, organizers, anyone who can argue for me on the streets from dawn to dusk. Brutus must use the Tenth to bring the gangs to heel. It’s my responsibility now, thanks to Crassus. The old man is a genius, I swear it. In one stroke, I have the power I need to prove I can make the streets safe. It’s all come so quickly,

I almost don’t-”

Servilia pressed her fingers onto his lips to stop the torrent of words. She laughed as he continued to talk, mouthing muffled ideas as they struck him. She kissed him then and for a second he continued to talk as their lips touched, until she slapped him lightly on the cheek with her free hand.

He broke away, laughing.

“I have to meet the Senate and I can’t be late for them. Start the work, Servilia. I’ll meet you here at noon.”

She watched him as he ran up the steps and disappeared into the gloom within, and then walked down to where her guards waited, her step light.

As Julius reached the door to the outer chamber, he found Crassus waiting for him. The older man looked strangely nervous and beads of sweat ran into the lines of his face.

“I must speak to you before you go in, Julius,” Crassus said. “Not inside, where there are ears to hear us.”

“What is it?” Julius asked, feeling a sudden weight descend on him as he registered the consul’s nervousness.

“I have not been entirely honest with you, my friend,” Crassus replied.

They could both hear the droning voices of the senators behind them as the two men sat on the wide steps, facing the forum.

Julius shook his head in disbelief. “I would not have believed you capable of this, Crassus.”

“I am not capable of it,” Crassus snapped. “I am telling you now, before the conspirators move against Pompey.”

“You should have stopped it when they came to you. You could have gone straight to the Senate and denounced this Catiline before he had anything more than ideas. Now you tell me he has gathered an army? It is a little late to claim the clean robe for you, Crassus, no matter how you protest.”

“If I had refused, they would have killed me, and, yes, when they promised me the rule of Rome, I was tempted by it. There, you have heard me say it. Should I have given them to Pompey to parade as another victory before the people? To see him made Dictator for Life like Sulla before him? I was tempted, Julius, and I let it go too long unreported, but I am changing that now. I know their plans and where they have gathered. With your legion, we can destroy them before any harm is done.”

“Is that why you made me aedile?” Julius asked.

Crassus shrugged. “Of course. Now it is your responsibility to stop them. It will make a fine pillar for your campaign for the people to see nobilitas like Catiline held responsible for crimes as any other citizen would be. They will see you as one above the petty bonds of class and tribe.”

Julius looked at the consul pityingly. “And if I had not returned from Spain?”

“Then I would have found another way to beat them before the end.”

“Would you?” Julius pressed him softly.

Crassus turned to glare at the young man at his side. “Do not doubt it. However, now you are here. I can give the leaders to you, and the Tenth will destroy the rabble they have gathered. They were only a danger when no one knew. Without that surprise, you will scatter them and the consulship will be yours. I trust you will not forget your friends then.”

Julius rose quickly, looking down at the consul. Had he heard the entire truth of it, or just the parts Crassus wanted him to hear? Perhaps the men he betrayed were guilty of nothing more than being enemies to Crassus. It would not do to send the Tenth into the homes of powerful men on the strength of a conversation Crassus could deny. The consul was capable of it, Julius was sure.

“I will think what to do, Crassus. I will not be your sword to strike at enemies.”

Crassus rose to face him, his eyes glinting with suppressed anger.

“Politics is bloody, Julius. Better to learn that now than too late. I waited too long to deal with them. Be sure you don’t make the same mistake.”

The two men entered the Senate building together, but apart.

The house Servilia had found for the campaign was three floors high and filled with people. Most importantly, it was central in the Esquiline valley, a busy part of the city that kept Julius in contact with those who needed to see him. From before dawn until the sun fell, his clients rushed in and out of the open doors, carrying errands and orders as Julius began to organize his strategy. The Tenth deployed in groups at night, and after three vicious fights with the gangs of raptores, they had cleared eleven streets in the poorest areas and were spreading out. Julius knew only a fool would believe the gangs were beaten, but they didn’t dare to gather in the areas he had chosen, and in time the people would realize they were under the protection of the legion and walk with confidence.

He had accepted three cases in the forum court and won the first, with the next only three days away.

The crowds had come to see the young orator and cheered the decision in his favor, though the crime was relatively mild. Julius still hoped, against reason, that he would be asked to try a murderer, or some other offense that would bring the people in their thousands to hear him speak.

He hadn’t seen Alexandria for nearly two weeks after she accepted the commission to armor the fighters for a great sword tourney outside the city. When Julius was exhausted by the work, he refreshed himself by riding out to the Campus Martius to see the arena being constructed. Brutus and Domitius had sent word to every Roman town and city within five hundred miles to ensure the best quality of challenger. Even so, both men expected to be in the final, and Brutus was convinced he would win, going so far as to put most of a year’s salary on his success.

When Julius walked to the forum, or rode out to the ring being constructed, he made a point of traveling without guards, convinced the people must see his confidence in them. Brutus had argued against the decision, then given way with suspicious ease. Julius guessed his friend had men shadow their general whenever he moved around the city, ready to defend him. He didn’t mind such a tactic as long as it was hidden. The appearance was far more important than the reality.

As promised, Julius had argued in the Senate to order trade traffic to enter and leave Rome only at night, keeping the streets clear for citizens. His soldiers were on every corner to enforce the quiet after dark, and after a few bouts of shouting with incensed merchants, the change had come easily enough. As aedile, the responsibility for city order was his, and with Crassus openly supporting him, there had been few restrictions imposed by the other members of the Senate.

Julius pressed the weariness from his eyes with his knuckles until he could see flashing lights. His clients and his soldiers were working hard for him. The campaign was going well and he could have been content if it hadn’t been for the problem Crassus had dropped in his lap.