Conn Iggulden - The Gates Of Rome

Not a soul pushed onto the road, despite the lack of soldiers or guards along the edge. The lesson of the last time had clearly been learned, and it was as if there were an invisible barrier holding them back. Even the hard-faced men of Marius's own guard were grinning as they marched.

Marius sat like a god. He placed his massive hands on the arms of the golden throne and smiled at the crowd. The slave behind him raised the garland of gilded laurel over his head, and the shadow fell on his features. He nodded and every eye followed his progress. His horses were trained for the battlefield and ignored the yelling people, even when some of the more daring landed flowers around their necks as well.

Gaius stood at the great man's shoulder as the ride went on and the pride he felt lifted his soul. Would his father have appreciated this? The answer was probably not and Gaius felt a pang of sorrow at that. Marius was right: Just to be alive on this day was to touch the gods. He knew he would never forget it and could see in the eyes of the people that they too would store away the moments to warm them in the dark winters of years yet to pass.

Halfway along the route, Gaius saw Tubruk standing on a corner. As their eyes met, Gaius could feel all the history between them. Tubruk raised his arm in a salute and Gaius returned it. The men around Tubruk turned to look at him and wonder at his connection. He nodded as they passed and Gaius nodded back, swallowing down the catch in his throat. He was drunk with emotion and gripped the back of the throne to keep from swaying in the tide of cheering.

Marius gave a signal to two of his men and they climbed onto the carriage, holding soft leather bags. Hands were plunged into the dark recesses and came up glinting with fistfuls of silver coins. Marius's image went flying over the crowd, and they screamed his name as they scrabbled for the metal in his wake. Marius too reached in and his fingers emerged dripping pieces of silver; he sprayed the coins high with a gesture and laughed as they fell and the crowd dipped to pick up the gifts. He smiled at their pleasure and they blessed him.

From a low window, Cornelia looked out over the bobbing mass of people, pleased to be clear of the crowds. She felt a thrill as Marius drew close on his throne, and cheered with the rest. He was a handsome general and the city loved heroes.

There was a young man next to him, too young to be a legionary. Cornelia strained forward to get a better look. He was smiling and his eyes flashed blue as he laughed at something Marius said.

The procession came abreast of where Cornelia and her family watched. She saw coins go flying and the people rush to grab the pieces of silver. Her father, Cinna, sniffed at this.

"Waste of money. Rome loves a frugal general," he said waspishly.

Cornelia ignored him, her gaze on Marius's companion. He was attractive and healthy looking, but there was something else about him, about the way he held himself. There was an inner confidence, and as Clodia often said, there was nothing in the world so attractive as confidence.

"Every mother in Rome will be after that young cockerel for their daughters," Clodia whispered at her elbow.

Cornelia blushed and Clodia's eyebrows shot up in surprise and pleasure.

The Triumph passed on for another two hours, but for Cornelia it was wasted time.

The colors and faces had blurred together, the men were heavily draped in flowers, and the sun had reached noon by the time they began the entry to the forum. Marius signaled to his driver to put the carriage at the front, by the Senate steps. The space echoed as the hooves struck the stone slabs and the noise of the streets was slowly left behind. For the first time, Gaius could see Sulla's soldiers guarding the entrances to the plaza and the boiling mass of the crowds beyond.

It was almost peaceful after the colorful riot of the trip into the center.

"Stop her here," Marius said, and stood from the throne to watch his men come in. They were well drilled and formed tidy ranks, layer on layer from the farthest corner to the Senate steps, until the forum was full of the shining rows of his soldiers. No human voice could carry to every man, so a horn gave the order to stand to attention, and they crashed their feet together and down, making thunder. Marius smiled with pride. He gripped Gaius's shoulder.

"Remember this. This is why we slog through battlefields a thousand miles from home."

"I could never forget today," Gaius replied honestly, and the grip tightened for a moment before letting go.

Marius walked to where a white bull was held steady by four of his men. A great black-bristled boar was similarly held, but snorted and chafed against the ropes.

Marius accepted a taper and lit the incense in a golden bowl. His men bowed their heads and he stepped forward with his dagger, speaking softly as he cut the two throats.

"Bring us all through war and pestilence, safe home to our city," he said. He wiped the blade on the skin of the bull as it sank to its knees, bawling its fear and pain. Sheathing the dagger, he put an arm around Gaius's shoulder, and together they walked up the wide white steps of the Senate building.

It was the seat of power in all the world. Columns that could not be girdled by three large men holding their arms outstretched supported a sloping roof that was itself mounted with distant statues. Bronze doors that dwarfed even Marius stood closed at the top of the steps. Made of interlocking panels, they looked as if they were designed to stand against an army, but as the pair ascended, the doors opened silently, pulled from within. Marius nodded and Gaius swallowed his awe.

"Come, lad, let us go and meet our masters. It would not do to keep the Senate waiting."

Marcus wondered at the tight expression on Renius's face as they traveled the road to the sea. From dawn until late in the afternoon, they had trotted and walked the stone surface without a word. He was hungry and desperately thirsty, but would not admit it. He had decided at noon that if Renius wanted to do the whole trip to the docks without stopping, then he would not give up first.

Finally, when the smell of dead fish and seaweed soured the clean country air, Renius pulled up and, to his surprise, Marcus noticed the man was pale.

"I want to break off here, to see a friend of mine. You can go on to the docks and get a room there. There's an inn…

"I'm coming with you," Marcus said curtly.

Renius's jaw tightened and he muttered "As you please," before turning off the main road onto a lesser track.

Mystified, Marcus followed him as the track wound through woods for miles. He didn't ask where they were going, just kept his sword loose in his scabbard in case there were bandits hidden in the foliage. Not that a sword would be much use against a bow, he noted.

The sun, where it could be seen at all through the canopy, had dropped down toward the horizon when they rode into a small village. There were no more than twenty small houses, but the place had a well-kept air to it. Chickens were penned and goats tethered outside most dwellings, and Marcus felt no sense of danger. Renius dismounted.

"Are you coming in?" he said as he walked to a door.

Marcus nodded, and tied the two horses to a post. Renius was inside by the time he was done, and he frowned, resting a hand on his dagger as he went in. It was a little dark inside, lit only by a candle and a small fire in the hearth, but Marcus could see Renius hugging an ancient old man with his one good arm.

"This is my brother, Primus. Primus, this is the lad I mentioned, traveling with me to Greece."

The man must have been eighty years old, but he had a firm grip.

"My brother has written about your progress and the other one, Gaius. He doesn't like anyone, but I think he dislikes you two less than most people."