Conn Iggulden - The Gates Of Rome

The lamps had been lit by his slaves; the floor was covered in rugs and cloth. Sweet-smelling oil burned in a tiny cup, a rare mixture he enjoyed. Sulla took a deep breath and caught a flicker of movement coming at him from the right. He collapsed backward out of the line of the attack and felt the air move as something slashed above him. Sulla kicked out with powerful legs and his attacker was knocked from his feet. As the assassin flailed round, Sulla caught his knife hand in a crushing grip. He levered himself up so that his weight was on the man's chest, and he smiled as he watched the man's expression change from anger and fear to surprise and despair.

Sulla was not a soft man. True, he didn't favor the more extreme Roman tests of courage, where injuries and scars showed prowess, but he trained every day and fought in every battle. His wrists were like metal and he had no difficulty in turning the blade inward until it was pointing toward the man's throat.

"How much did Marius pay you?" Sulla sneered, his voice showing little strain.

"Nothing. I kill you for pleasure."

"Amateur by word and deed!" Sulla continued, pressing the knife closer to the heaving flesh. "Guards! Attend your consul!" he barked, and within seconds, the man was pinned down and Sulla could stand and brush dust from himself.

The guard captain had entered with the rush of people. He was pale, but managed to snap out a clean salute as he stood to attention.

"It seems that an assassin has made his way through the camp and into the tent of a consul of Rome without being challenged," Sulla said quietly, dipping his hands into a bowl of scented water on an oak table and holding them out to be dried by a slave.

The guard captain took a deep breath to calm himself. "Torture will get us the names of his masters. I will supervise the questioning myself. I will resign my commission in the morning, General, with your permission?"

Sulla continued as if the man had not spoken. "I do not enjoy being accosted in my own tent. It seems such a common, grubby incident to disturb my repose in this way."

He stooped and picked up the dagger, ignoring the owner's frantic struggles as the grim soldiers bound him with vicious tightness. He held the slim blade out to the nervous captain.

"You have left me unprotected. Take this. Go to your tent and cut your throat with it. I will have your body collected in… two hours?"

The man nodded stiffly, taking the dagger. He saluted again and turned on his heel, marching out of the tent space.

Padacus placed a warm palm on Sulla's arm. "Are you wounded?"

Sulla pulled his arm away in irritation. "I am fine. Gods, it was only one man. Marius must have a very low opinion of me."

"We don't know it was only one man. I will set guards around your tent tonight."

Sulla shook his head. "No. Let Marius think he has scared me? I'll keep those two whores you were bringing me and make sure one of them is awake through the night. Bring them in and get rid of everyone else. I believe I have worked up an appetite for a little vicious entertainment."

Padacus saluted smartly, but Sulla saw the full lips pout as he turned, and made a note. The man was definitely a risk. He would not make it back to Rome. An accident of some kind-a fall from his glorious gelding. Perfect.

At last he was alone and Sulla sat on a low bed, smoothing a hand over the soft material. There was a quiet, female cough from outside, and Sulla smiled with pleasure.

The two girls that entered at his call were clean, lithe, and richly dressed. Both were beautiful.

"Wonderful," Sulla sighed, patting the bed beside him. For all his faults, Padacus had an eye for truly beautiful women, a rather wasted gift in the circumstances.

Marius frowned at his nephew.

"I do not question your decision to be wed! Cinna will be a useful support in your career. It will suit you politically as well as personally to marry his daughter. However, I do question your timing. With Sulla's legion likely to arrive at the gates of the city tomorrow evening, you want me to arrange a marriage in such haste?"

A legionary rushed up to the general, attempting to salute around an armful of scrolls and documents. Marius raised a hand to hold him off.

"You discussed certain plans with me, if things didn't work out tomorrow?" Gaius asked, his voice quiet.

Marius nodded and turned to the guard. "Wait outside. I'll fetch you when I'm finished here."

The man attempted another salute and trotted out of the general's barracks room. As soon as he was out of earshot, Gaius spoke again.

"If somehow things go wrong for us… and I have to flee the city, I won't leave Cornelia behind unmarried."

"She can't go with you!" Marius snapped.

"No. But I can't leave her without my name for protection. She may be pregnant." He hated to admit the extent of their relationship. It was a private thing between them, but only Marius could get the sacrifices and priests ready in the short time left to them, and he had to be made to understand.

"I see. Does her father know of… your intimacy?"

Gaius nodded.

"Then we are lucky he is not at the door with a horsewhip. Fair enough. I will make ready for the briefest of vow ceremonies. Dawn tomorrow?"

Gaius smiled suddenly, released from a tension he had felt pressing on him.

"That's more like it," Marius laughed in response. "Gods, Sulla isn't even in sight yet and a long way from taking Rome back from me. You look too hard for the worst outcomes, I fear. Tomorrow evening your haste may seem ridiculous as we put old Sulla's head on a spike, but no matter. Go. Buy a wedding robe and presents. Have all the bills sent to me." He patted Gaius on the back.

"Oh, and see Catia on the way out-a lady of mature years who makes uniforms for the men. She will think of a few things and where to get them in so short a time. Go!"

Gaius left, chuckling.

As soon as he had gone, Marius summoned his aide with a shout and spread the scrolls out on the table, anchoring the edges with smooth lead weights.

"Right, lad," he said to the soldier. "Summon the centurions for another meeting. I want to hear any fresh ideas, no matter how bizarre. What have I missed? What does Sulla plan?"

"Perhaps you have already thought of everything, General."

"No man can think of everything; all we can do is to be ready for anything." Marius waved the man away on his errand.

Gaius found Cabera throwing dice with two of Marius's legionaries. The old man was engrossed in the game, and Gaius controlled his impatience as he made another throw and clapped his ancient hands together in pleasure. Coins were passed over and Gaius took his arm before another round could begin.

"I spoke to Marius. He can arrange the ceremony for dawn tomorrow. I need help today to get everything ready."

Cabera looked carefully at him as he tucked his winnings into his ragged brown robe. He nodded to the soldiers and one of them shook hands a little ruefully before walking away.

"I look forward to meeting this girl who has had such an impact on you. I suppose she is terribly beautiful?"

"Of course! She is a young goddess. Sweet brown eyes and golden hair. You cannot possibly imagine."

"No. I was never young. I was born a wrinkled old man, to the surprise of my mother," Cabera answered seriously, making Gaius laugh. He felt drunk with excitement, with the threatening shadow of Sulla's arrival pushed right to the back of his mind.

"Marius has given me the purse strings, but the shops close so early. We have no time to waste. Come on!" Gaius pulled Cabera by the arm and the old man chuckled, enjoying the enthusiasm.

As evening darkened over the city, Marius left the centurions and walked out to make another inspection of the wall defenses. He stretched as he walked, and felt and heard his back clicking, sore from bending over the plans for so many hours. A warning voice in his mind reminded him of how foolish it was to walk around in this city after dark, even with the curfew still in place. He dismissed it with a shrug. Rome would never hurt him. She loved her son too dearly, he knew.