Simon Scarrow - Street fighter

‘This is a scandal! An outrage! This is tyranny!’

‘No, it isn’t,’ Caesar replied calmly. ‘If it was, then no doubt you would already be dead.’

‘You dare to threaten me? A consul of Rome?’

‘Calm yourself, dear Bibulus, before you do yourself some mischief. Let us continue the debate.’

‘No! I refuse.’ Bibulus struggled to raise his ponderous bulk from his chair. His head held high, he strode towards the entrance of the chamber. ‘I will not go along with this attempt to abuse the power of the Senate. Furthermore, I will veto any attempt to vote on the measure.’ He paused to look round at the other senators. ‘I urge any of you who value your honour to join me, and Senator Cato.’

There was a short pause as the senators looked at each other self-consciously, then Cicero stood up and made his way over to Bibulus. Another senator joined him, then another, then more, until Marcus estimated that nearly a third of them had taken sides against Caesar. As they made their way out of the chamber, Caesar stood up.

‘Today’s business is adjourned. The debate will be resumed tomorrow, in the Forum, when I will set the matter before the people to decide.’ As he concluded, he glanced up towards where Marcus and Lupus were watching events. He nodded at Lupus, then turned away to lead the rest of the senators out of the chamber.

‘Come on!’ Lupus grabbed Marcus’s arm.

‘What is it?’

‘A little surprise for our friend Bibulus that Caesar planned earlier. It’s richly deserved. .’

They pushed their way through the remaining crowd and hurried down the steps at the front of the Senate House to where Festus was waiting with Caesar’s bodyguard. Above them, the senators of both factions were mingling on the stairs. Marcus could see Cato and Bibulus protesting indignantly as they rallied their supporters.

Lupus stood in front of Festus. ‘The master is ready to spring his surprise.’

‘Oh, good!’ Festus rubbed his hands together and turned to one of his men. ‘Everything ready?’

‘Yes, sir.’ The man chuckled as he nodded towards something behind him that Marcus couldn’t quite see. ‘He’ll get the shock of his life.’

‘Right then, we’ll strike the moment Bibulus heads down the steps. You boys stay close to me and watch yourselves. Could get rough.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Marcus replied. ‘But don’t worry, I can look after myself.’

‘So I’ve seen. Then keep an eye on Lupus for me.’

They waited a moment until there was a cry from the crowd in the Forum.

‘Here he comes!’

Caesar emerged into the afternoon light, flanked by Pompeius and Crassus. He pointed an accusing finger at Cato and called out loudly, ‘You have defied the people’s will today, my friend, but you cannot deny them their due reward forever.’

‘We’ll see!’ Cato shouted back. ‘Come, Bibulus, the air here is too foul for us to linger. ’

Swinging round, Cato began to descend the stairs, as Bibulus and the rest of their faction hurried after him.

‘Here we go, lads!’ Festus waved his arm towards them.

The men surged forward, shouting threats and insults as they stormed up the steps. Marcus did his best to stay close to Lupus while keeping up with the men, clutching the shaft of his club tightly. The scribe’s eyes were wide with fear and he clutched his satchel to his side as they were buffeted by the crowd. Ahead, Marcus could see Cato. Fear momentarily flickered across his face. But then he stopped, drew himself up and glared scornfully at the band of men. Bibulus and the others stumbled to a halt.

‘Down with Cato!’ Festus bellowed. ‘Down with Bibulus!’

Caesar’s men closed in on the senators and jostled them. The lictors assigned to protect Bibulus rushed forward to break up the struggle.

‘Now!’ Festus called out.

Marcus saw the man he had been speaking to press forward with a large bucket in his hands. He pushed his way through until he was standing beside Bibulus and then tipped the contents over the consul’s head. A lumpy slurry of sewage poured over him, covering his face and streaking down his white toga. The air was filled with a foul stench and the crowd around Bibulus sprang back.

Festus and his men roared with laughter as they retreated and so did the crowd in the Forum as they caught sight of the hapless consul. Even Lupus had forgotten his fear and was grinning as they watched Bibulus stand in numbed shock before attempting to wipe the excrement from his eyes.

‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ Caesar called out as he made his way down the stairs. ‘You seem to be up to your neck in something unmentionable, my dear fellow.’

Bibulus turned towards him, thrusting out his finger. ‘This is monstrous! This is an outrage! And you are behind it, tyrant!’

‘Me?’ Caesar touched his chest and did his best to look innocent. ‘I would never even think of doing anything so dishonourable to one of Rome’s most outstanding figures, and your figure is certainly outstanding.’ Caesar nodded at Bibulus’s huge belly.

The senators at his back joined in the laughter of the crowd. Burning with rage at his humiliation, Bibulus stormed down the stairs, accompanied by Cato and the others. The crowd scurried out of their way and jeered as they passed through the Forum.

‘That’s that then.’ Caesar nodded with satisfaction as he exchanged smiles with Pompeius, Crassus and their friends.

Marcus had enjoyed the humiliating spectacle as much as the rest of Caesar’s men, but his smile froze on his lips as his gaze fixed on one of the men standing close to Crassus — a tall, bald man with a thin face. He was smiling widely as he offered his congratulations to Caesar. Marcus recognized him at once, even though they had met only briefly on a single occasion. His heart filled with icy hatred and he tightened his grip on the handle of the club.

As Caesar turned his attention to another of his supporters the man stepped back and glanced round the crowd. His eyes passed over Marcus and then he looked away again, his attention drawn by something Crassus was saying.

Marcus continued to stare at him, his body rigid with tension as he recalled their last meeting. When he and his mother stood in a slave pen in a small Greek town, the night before they were due to be auctioned, this man had come to gloat over their miserable fate. That same man, the tax collector Decimus, was the cause of all their suffering. A short distance behind him stood another familiar face, and Marcus caught his breath. Thermon. The man who had killed Titus.

Marcus hardly slept that night, but lay on his bedroll staring up at a thin shaft of moonlight shining through the slit window high up on the wall. Lupus was lying on his back, snoring. The other boy, Corvus, lay curled up under his worn blanket, muttering to himself as he dreamed. So far they had exchanged only a few words about their backgrounds. Returning from the Forum, Lupus had told Marcus that he’d been born into Caesar’s household and been a slave his entire life. And he’d heard from Corvus how he’d been sold as an infant to a gladiator trainer by his poverty-stricken parents. But the trainer’s hopes of teaching Corvus disappeared when the boy broke his leg and was left with a limp. The lanista duly sold him to a slave dealer who had brought the boy to Rome, where he’d been bought as a kitchen slave by Flaccus.

Marcus’s thoughts turned away from them. Since seeing Decimus and Thermon outside the Senate House, his mind had been in turmoil. For a while, his original plan to appeal to Pompeius for help were replaced by a burning desire for revenge with far-fetched plans to track down and kill Decimus.

Gradually his rage faded and Marcus began to think about the implications of the tax collector’s presence in Rome. If he was a supporter of Crassus, who in turn was an ally of Caesar and General Pompeius, then the situation was more complicated than before. How could Marcus appeal to Pompeius for help in freeing his mother and bringing Decimus to justice for kidnapping them, if the tax collector was a close associate of Pompeius’s key ally? Pompeius would never side with Marcus against a man as powerful as Crassus.