Conn Iggulden - The Field Of Swords

“I’ll have him flogged if it has,” Suetonius snapped, rising too quickly. He barely noticed the steadying hand on his shoulder as he was guided out of the inn into the darkness.

The night air did something to remove the fog of wine from his thoughts, and he pulled away from the arm that held him as he entered the low stables. There were men there, too many to be looking after the horses. They grinned at him as a cold panic settled his heaving blood.

“What do you want? Who are you?” Suetonius blustered.

The leader of the raptores stepped out from the shadows, and Suetonius fell back at the man’s expression.

“Just a job to me, this, though I always give value if I can,” he said, strolling toward the young Roman.

Suetonius was held tightly by both arms even as he began to struggle, and a hand was clamped over his mouth.

The leader flexed his hands menacingly.

“Snuff the lamps, lads. I don’t need light for this,” he said, and in the sudden darkness there came the thud of heavy blows.

Julius wished he had slept the night before. His weariness weighed on him, but now, of all times, he needed to be sharp to deal with the two men.

“Together, you still command enough support in the Senate to force anything through.”

“Unless there is a consular veto,” Pompey replied immediately.

Julius shrugged. “Do not consider it. I will deal with Bibilus when the time comes.”

Pompey blinked at him as Julius continued.

“Without that block, your factions in the Senate are enough. The question is merely what I must give you to ensure your support.”

“I don’t think-” Crassus began stiffly, but Pompey held up a hand.

“Let him speak, Crassus. You and I have discussed this enough without a solution. I want to hear what he has in mind.”

Julius chuckled at their eagerness. “Crassus wants trade. Together, Pompey, we could grant him an absolute monopoly throughout Roman lands. A license for two years, say. He would have a stranglehold on every coin in the dominions, and yet, I do not doubt, the total wealth will increase under his hand. If I know Crassus, the treasury of Rome will be swollen to bursting in less than a year.”

Crassus smiled at the compliment, but he did not seem especially moved. Julius had hoped the old man would be tempted by the license alone, but the deal had to leave them all satisfied or it would be broken at the first test.

“But perhaps that is not enough?” Julius said, watching them both carefully.

Pompey’s eyes glittered with interest and Crassus was deep in thought. The idea of a total grip on trade was wonderfully intoxicating to him, and he knew better than Julius what he could achieve with that power. His competitors would be beggared at a single stroke, their houses and slaves put up for auction. In only a short time, he could treble his landholdings and own a merchant fleet as great as any the world had seen. He would be able to ignore the losses of distant storms and send his ships out to far countries-

Egypt, India, places without names, even. None of this showed in his expression. Crassus frowned carefully to show the young man he still needed to be persuaded, while his mind reeled at the thought of the fleet he would gather.

“What about your own concessions, Julius?” Pompey said impatiently.

“I want six months in Senate, working with you in mutual support. The promises I made to the people of Rome were not empty. I want to pass new laws and ordinances. Some will upset the more traditional members of the Senate, and I must have your votes with me to ride over their objections. The people have elected me; let us not be held back by Bibilus or a pack of toothless old men.”

“I cannot see what advantage there is to me in such an arrangement,” Pompey prompted.

Julius raised his eyebrows. “Apart from the good of Rome, of course.” He smiled to ease the barb as Pompey colored, knowing he could still lose it all with a false step.

“Your own desires are simple enough, my friend,” Julius said. “You want Dictatorship, though you may resist the name. Crassus and I will endorse any motion or vote you put to the Senate. Anything. Between us, we could have the Senate at our feet.”

“That is no small thing,” Pompey said quietly. What Julius was proposing completely undermined the purpose of having two consuls as a check on each other, but Pompey couldn’t find it in himself to mention it.

Julius nodded. “I would not if I thought you were a lesser man, Pompey. We have disagreed in the past, but I have never questioned your love of this city, and who knows you better than I? We destroyed Cato together, remember? Rome will not suffer under you.”

The flattery was perhaps a little obvious, though Julius found to his surprise that he believed at least part of it. Pompey was a solid leader and would defend Roman interests with determination and strength, even if he would never extend them.

“I do not trust you, Caesar,” Pompey said bluntly. “All these promises could come to nothing unless we are more firmly bound.” He cleared his throat. “I need a token of goodwill from you, a proof of your support that is more than air.”

“Tell me what you want,” Julius said, shrugging.

“How old is your daughter?” Pompey asked. His face was deadly serious and Julius understood his meaning immediately.

“Ten this year,” he replied. “Too young for you, Pompey.”

“She will not always be. Bind your blood to me and I will accept your promises. My own wife is in the grave more than three years, and a man is not meant to be alone. When she is fourteen, send her to me and I will marry her.”

Julius rubbed his eyes. So much depended on reaching an agreement with the two old wolves. If his daughter had been one of his soldiers, he knew he would sacrifice her without a moment’s thought for such stakes.

“Sixteen. She will be your bride at sixteen,” he said at last.

Pompey beamed at him and nodded, stretching out his hand. Julius felt cold as he took it. He had them both, if he could supply the final pieces, but still the problem of Crassus worried at his thoughts. In the silent Curia, Julius could hear the echoes of Pompey’s soldiers as they marched in the forum, and listening to them gave him the answer.

“A legion also, Crassus,” Julius said, thinking quickly. “A new eagle in the Campus Martius, raised in your name. Men I would train and mingle with my best officers for half a year. We will send to the country for them, to the tens of thousands of simple men who have never had the chance to fight for Rome. They would become yours, Crassus, and I can tell you there is no greater bond or joy than forming them into a legion. I will make them for you, but you will wear the general’s plume.”

Crassus looked up sharply at both men, considering the offer. He had longed for a command ever since the disaster against Spartacus, held from it by the nagging doubt that he could not lead as easily as Pompey and Caesar. Listening to Julius made it seem possible, but he tried to speak, to explain his doubts.

Julius laid a hand on his arm.

“I have taken men from Africa and Greece and made them soldiers, Crassus. I will do more with those of Roman blood. Catiline saw a weakness we must remove if Rome is to thrive with your trade, don’t you think? The city needs good men on the walls above all else.”

Crassus flushed. “I may… not be the man to lead them, Caesar,” he said through clenched teeth.

Julius could imagine what it had cost him to make the admission in front of Pompey, but he snorted in reply, “Neither was I until Marius and Renius and, yes, Pompey showed me how, by example and by training. No man leaps full-grown into that role, Crassus. I will be with you in the first steps, and Pompey will always be there. He knows Rome needs a second legion for protection. I doubt he would want anything less in a city that answers to him.”