The Field of Swords. Conn IgguldenЧитать онлайн книгу.
of dust.
‘Do you remember when he made you hold this?’ he said.
Julius nodded, copying the action. Brutus was pleased to see him smile as he let the dust trickle into the breeze.
‘Fed with the blood of those who have gone before us,’ Julius said.
‘And our blood. He was a good man,’ Brutus replied, letting his own handful lift away and bringing his hands together in a sharp clap. ‘You’ll have to find someone else to get the fields ploughed under again. I’ve never seen the place so ragged. Still, you’re back now.’
Julius frowned at him. ‘I was going to ask where you had disappeared to, but I see you found something better than seeing to the camp at Ostia.’
Julius could not bring himself to be angry with his friend, though he had intended to make the point very clearly.
‘Renius had it all in hand and it’s a good thing I did,’ Brutus replied. ‘Alexandria told me there will be a public debate tomorrow in the forum and I rode straight here to tell you.’
‘I know about it. Servilia told me as soon as she heard. Still, I’m glad you came. I would have sent for you even if you hadn’t disobeyed my orders.’
Brutus looked at his friend, trying to judge how seriously he was being criticised. The strain and exhaustion of the time in Spain had left Julius’ face and he seemed younger than he had for a long time. Brutus waited for a moment.
‘Am I forgiven?’ he said.
‘You are,’ Julius replied. ‘Now come inside and meet my daughter. There’s a room ready for you and I want you with me to plan a campaign. You are the last to come in.’
They walked together through the courtyard, the only sound the snap and flutter of the lamps along the wall. The breeze cut across them for a moment as the gate was shut and Brutus felt the hairs lift on his arms, making him shiver. Julius opened a door into a room of life and chatter and he ducked his head to go in, feeling the first touches of excitement.
Julius had summoned them all, Brutus saw as he looked round the room and greeted his friends. With Alexandria, everyone he cared about was in that one room and they had the bright eyes of joyful conspirators, planning how to rule a city. Servilia, Cabera, Domitius, Ciro, Octavian, all the ones Julius had gathered to his side. The only stranger was the young Spaniard who had come with them as Julius’ scribe. Adàn looked from face to face even as Brutus did and when their eyes met, Brutus nodded to him, acknowledging him as Julius would have wanted.
Brutus saw that Alexandria was standing stiffly amongst them and moved to her side instinctively. Julius caught the movement and understood it.
‘We need you here, Alexandria. No one else has lived in the city for the last few years and I want that knowledge.’
She blushed prettily as she relaxed and Brutus squeezed her buttock, unseen by the others. His mother looked sharply at him as Alexandria slapped his hand away, but Brutus only smiled at her before looking back at Julius.
‘Where is this daughter of yours?’ Brutus asked. He was curious to see the girl.
‘She’ll be out in the stables,’ Julius said. ‘She rides like a centaur, you know. I’ll call her in before she’s ready to sleep.’ For an instant, pride touched his features as he thought of his daughter and Brutus smiled with him. Then, Julius cleared his throat, looking round at them all.
‘Now, I need to decide what I am to do tomorrow morning, when I walk into the forum and declare for the consul’s post.’
Everyone tried to speak at once and the knock at the door went unheard for the first few moments. Clodia opened it and her expression brought quiet as they saw her.
‘There is … I could not stop him,’ she began.
Julius took her by the arm. ‘Who is it?’ he asked.
He froze as he caught sight of the figure behind her and stood back with Clodia to let the door swing open.
Crassus stood there, dressed in a toga of startling white against his dark skin. A gold clasp glittered at his shoulder and Alexandria blinked as she recognised her own work, wondering if it was coincidence or subtle proof of his understanding of the relationships in the room.
‘Good evening, Caesar. I believe your post of tribune was never revoked. Should I address you by that title now that you have left the praetorship of Spain behind you?’
Julius bowed his head, struggling to hide the anger he felt at the man’s casual entry into his home. His mind spun with sudden thoughts. Were there soldiers outside? If there were, Crassus would find it harder to leave than to enter, he swore silently. Julius released his grip on Clodia’s arm and she left the room quickly without looking back. He did not blame her for letting Crassus into his home. Though she had run the house as its mistress, she had been too many years a slave not to be frightened by one of the most powerful men in the Senate. No door could be barred against a consul of Rome.
Crassus saw the tension in the young man he faced and continued. ‘Put yourself at ease, Julius. I am a friend to this house, as I was to Marius before you. Did you think you could land a legion on my coastline without word reaching me? I would imagine even Pompey’s feeble ring of spies has heard you are back by now.’ Crassus caught sight of Servilia in the room and lowered his head slightly in greeting.
‘You are welcome here,’ Julius said, trying to unbend. He knew he had hesitated too long and suspected the older man had enjoyed every moment of the confusion he had created.
‘I am glad,’ Crassus replied. ‘Well, if someone will fetch another chair, I will join you, with your permission. You will need a strong speech tomorrow if you mean to have a consul’s robe next year. Pompey will not be pleased to hear of it, but that is the sweetness to the sauce.’
‘Are there no secrets from you?’ Julius asked, beginning to recover.
Crassus smiled at him. ‘Confirmed by your own mouth! I thought there could be no other reason for you to leave the post as praetor. I trust you appointed a replacement before you sailed for Rome?’
‘I did, of course,’ Julius replied. To his surprise, he found he was enjoying the exchange.
Crassus took the chair Octavian vacated for him and settled himself, using his long fingers to tweak his toga into neatness. The tension in the room began to ease as they accepted him amongst them.
‘I wonder, did you think you would just stride through the forum and ascend the speakers’ platform?’ Crassus asked.
Julius looked blankly at him. ‘Why not? Servilia tells me Prandus will be there to speak. I have as much right as he.’
Crassus smiled, shaking his head. ‘I believe you would have done, at that. Better to come at my invitation, Julius. Pompey will not be asking for you to join us, after all. I look forward to seeing his face when you enter your name onto the lists.’
He accepted a cup of wine and sipped at it, wincing slightly.
‘You realise Pompey may claim you have abandoned your duty by leaving before your term in Spain was finished?’ he said, leaning forward in his seat.
‘I am immune from prosecution as tribune,’ Julius replied quickly.
‘Unless it is a crime of violence, my friend, though I suppose deserting your post is safe enough. Pompey knows your protection, but how will it look to the people? From now until the elections, Julius, you must not only act well, but be seen to act well, or the votes you need will be wasted on another candidate.’
Crassus looked around at the others in the room and smiled as his eyes met Alexandria’s. His fingers caressed the gold clasp at his shoulder for an instant and she knew he recognised her and experienced a thrill of danger. For the first time since Brutus had found her in the workshop, she realised that Julius collected as many enemies as he did friends and she was not yet sure which Crassus