The three hundred senators murmured their assent solemnly, and Sulla smiled. Gaius felt fear touch him. Sulla paused for a long moment, clearly enjoying the tension. At last he spoke one word into the silence.
"First-Born."
Marius placed his hand on Gaius's shoulder. "You may not vote today, lad."
Gaius remained in his seat, craning around him to see how many would stand. Marius looked levelly at Sulla, as if the matter were of no importance to him. It seemed that all around them men were getting up, and Gaius knew his uncle had lost. Then the noises stopped and no more men stood. He looked down at the handsome consul standing at the center and could see Sulla's face change from relaxed pleasure to disbelief, then fury. He made the count and had it checked by two others until they agreed.
"One hundred and twenty-one in favor of the First-Born dealing with the invader."
He bit his lip, his expression brutal for a second. His gaze fastened on Marius, who shrugged and looked away. The standing men sat.
"Second Alaudae," Sulla whispered, his voice carrying on the well-crafted acoustics of the hall. Again, men stood, and Gaius could see it was a majority. Whatever plan Sulla had attempted had failed, and Gaius saw him wave the senators to their seats without allowing the count to be properly finished and recorded. Visibly, he gathered himself, and when he spoke he was again the charming young man Gaius had seen when he entered.
"The Senate has spoken and I am the servant of the Senate," he said formally. "I trust Marius will use the city barracks for his own men in my absence?"
"I will," said Marius, his face calm and still.
Sulla went on: "With the support of our forces in Asia Minor, I do not see this as a long campaign. I will return to Rome as soon as I have crushed Mithridates. Then we will decide the future of this city." He said the last looking straight at Marius, and the message was clear.
"I will have my men vacate the barracks this evening. If there is no further business? Good day to you all." Sulla left the chamber, with a group of his supporters falling in behind him. The pressure disappeared in the room and suddenly everyone was speaking, chuckling, or looking thoughtfully at each other.
Marius stood and immediately there was quiet.
"Thank you for your trust, gentlemen. I will guard this city well against all comers." Gaius noted that Sulla could well be one of those Marius would guard against, when he returned.
Senators crowded around his uncle, a few shaking his hand in open congratulation. Marius pulled Gaius to him with one hand and reached out with the other to take the shoulder of a scrawny man, who smiled at them both.
"Crassus, this is my nephew, Gaius. You would not believe it to look at him, but Crassus here is probably the richest man in Rome."
The man had a long, thin neck and his head bobbed at the end of it, with warm brown eyes twinkling in a mass of tiny wrinkles.
"I have been blessed by the gods, it is true. I also have two beautiful daughters."
Marius chuckled. "One is tolerably attractive, Crassus, but the other takes after her father."
Internally, Gaius winced at this, but Crassus didn't seem to mind at all. He laughed ruefully.
"That is true, she is a little bony. I will have to give her a large dowry to tempt the young men of Rome." He faced Gaius and put out his hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, young man. Will you be a general like your uncle?"
"I will," Gaius said seriously.
Crassus smiled. "Then you will need money. Come to me when you need a backer?"
Gaius took the offered hand, gripping it briefly before Crassus moved away into the crowd.
Marius leaned over to him and muttered in his ear, "Well done. He has been a loyal friend to me and he has incredible wealth. I will arrange for you to visit his estate; it is astonishing in its opulence. Now, there is one other I want you to meet. Come with me."
Gaius followed him through the knots of senators as they talked over the events of the day and Sulla's humiliation. Gaius noted that Marius shook hands with every man who met his eye, saying a few words of congratulation, asking after families and absent friends. He left each group smiling.
Across the other side of the Senate hall, a group of three men were talking quietly, stopping as soon as Marius and Gaius approached.
"This is the man, Gaius," Marius said cheerfully. "Gnaeus Pompey, who is described by his supporters as the best field general Rome has at present—when I am ill or out of the country."
Pompey shook hands with them both, smiling affably. Unlike the spare Crassus, he was a little overweight, but he was as tall as Marius and carried it well, creating an impression of solid bulk. Gaius guessed him to be no more than thirty, which made his military status very impressive.
"There is no possibility about it, Marius," Pompey replied. "Truly I am wondrous in the field of battle. Strong men weep at the beauty of my maneuvers."
Marius laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.
Pompey looked Gaius up and down. "A younger version of you, old fox?" he said to Marius.
"What else could he be, with my blood in his veins?"
Pompey clasped his hands behind his back. "Your uncle has taken a terrible risk today, by pushing Sulla out of Rome. What did you think of it?"
Marius began to reply, but Pompey held up a hand.
"Let him speak, old fox. Let me see if he has anything to him."
Gaius answered without hesitation, the words coming surprisingly easily. "It is a dangerous move to offend Sulla, but my uncle enjoys gambles of this kind. Sulla is the servant of the city and will fight well against this foreign general. When he returns, he will have to make an accommodation with my uncle. Perhaps we can extend the barracks so that both legions can protect the city."
Pompey blinked and turned to Marius. "Is he a fool?"
Marius chuckled. "No. He just doesn't know if I trust you or not. I suspect he has already guessed my plans."
"What will your uncle do when Sulla returns?" Pompey whispered, close to Gaius's ear.
Gaius looked around, but there was no one close enough to overhear, except for the three Marius obviously trusted.
"He will close the gates. If Sulla tries to force an entry, the Senate will have to declare him an enemy of Rome. He will have to either begin a siege or retreat. I suspect he will put himself at Marius's command, as any general in the field might do to the consul of Rome."
Pompey agreed, unblinking. "A dangerous path, Marius, as I said. I cannot support you openly, but I will do my best for you in private. Congratulations on your triumphal march. You looked splendid." He gestured to the two with him and they walked away.
Gaius began to speak again, but Marius shook his head.
"Let us go outside, the air is thick with intrigue in here." They moved toward the doors and, outside, Marius put a finger to his lips to stop Gaius's questions. "Not here. There are too many listeners."
Gaius glanced around and saw that some of Sulla's senators were close, staring over with undisguised hostility. He followed Marius out into the forum, taking a seat on the stone steps away from where they could be overheard. Nearby, the First-Born still stood to attention, looking invincible in their shining armor. It was a peculiar feeling to be in the presence of thousands and yet to sit relaxed with his uncle on the very steps of the Senate.
Gaius could not hold it in any longer.
"How did you swing the vote against Sulla?"
Marius began to laugh and wiped his forehead free of sudden perspiration. "Planning, my lad. I knew of the landing of Mithridates almost as soon as it happened, days before Sulla heard. I used the oldest lever in the world to persuade the waverers in the Senate to vote for me, and even then, it was closer than I would have liked. It cost me a fortune, but from tomorrow morning I have control of Rome."
"He will be back, though," Gaius warned.
Marius snorted. "In six months or longer, perhaps. He could be killed on the battlefield, he could even lose to Mithridat
es; I have heard he is a canny general. Even if Sulla beats him in double time and finds fair sea winds to Greece and back, I will have months to prepare. He will leave as easily as he likes, but I tell you now, he won't get back in without a fight."
Gaius shook his head in disbelief at this confirmation of his thoughts. "What happens now? Do we go back to your house?"
Marius smiled a little sadly in response. "No. I had to sell it for the bribes—Sulla was already bribing them, you see, and I had to double his offers in most cases. It took everything I own, except my horse, my sword, and my armor. I may be the first penniless general Rome has ever had." He laughed quietly.
"If you had lost the vote, you would have lost everything!" Gaius whispered, shocked by the stakes.
"But I did not lose! I have Rome and my legion stands in front of us."
"What would you have done if you had lost, though?"
Marius blew air through his lips in disdain. "I would have left to fight Mithridates, of course. Am I not a servant of the city? Mind you, it would have taken a brave man to accept my bribe and still vote against me with my legion waiting just outside, wouldn't it? We must be thankful that the Senate values gold as much as they do. They think of new horses and slaves, but they have never been poor as I was poor. I value gold only for what it brings me, and this is where it has put me down—on these steps, with the greatest city in the world at my back. Cheer up, lad, this is a day for celebration, not regrets."
"No, it's not that. I was just thinking that Marcus and Renius are heading east to join the Fourth Macedonia. There's a fair chance they will meet this Mithridates coming the other way."
"I hope not. Those two would have that Greek for breakfast, and I want Sulla to have something to do when he gets there."
Gaius laughed and they stood up together. Marius looked at his legion and Gaius could feel the joy and pride burning out of him.
"This has been a good day. You have met the men of power in the city, and I have been loved by the people and backed by the Senate. By the way, that slave girl of yours, the pretty one? I'd sell her if I were you. It's one thing to tumble a girl a few times, but you seem to be sweet on her and that will lead to trouble."
Gaius looked away, biting his lip. Were there no secrets?
Marius continued blithely, unaware of his companion's discomfort. "Have you even tried her yet? No? Maybe that will get her out of your system. I know a few good houses here if you want to get a little experience in first. Just ask when you're ready."
Gaius did not reply, his cheeks hot.
Marius stood and looked with obvious pride at the Primigenia legion ranked before them.
"Shall we march the men over to the city barracks, lad? I think they could do with a good meal and a decent night's sleep after all this marching and standing in the sun."
CHAPTER 18
Marcus looked out onto the Mediterranean Sea and breathed in the warm air, heavy with salt. After a week at sea, boredom had set in. He knew every inch of the small trading vessel and had even helped in the hold, counting amphorae of thick oil and ebony planking transported from Africa. For a while, his interest had been kindled by the hundreds of rats below the decks, and he spent two days crawling to their nests in the darkness, armed with a dagger and a marble paperweight stolen from the captain's cabin. After he had thrown dozens of the little bodies overboard, the rats had learned to recognize his smell or his careful tread, retreating into crevices deep in the wood of the ship the moment he set foot on the ladder below.
He sighed and watched the sunset, still awed by the colors of the sinking sun out at sea. As a passenger, he could have stayed in his cabin for the whole journey, as Renius seemed determined to do, but the tiny, cramped space offered nothing in terms of amusement, and Marcus had quickly come to use it only to sleep.
The captain had allowed him to stand watch, and he had even tried his hand at controlling the two great steering oars at the back, or what he had learned to call the stern, but his interest soon paled.
"Another couple of weeks of this will kill me," he muttered to himself, using his knife to cut his initials into the wooden rail. A scuffling noise sounded behind him, but he didn't turn, just smiled and kept watching the sunset. There was silence and then another noise, the sort a small body might make if it was shifting for comfort.
Marcus spun and launched his knife underarm, as Renius had once taught him. It thudded into the mast and quivered. There was a squeak of terror and a flash of dirty white feet in the darkness as something scuttled deeper into shadow, trying too hard to be silent.
Marcus strolled over to the knife and freed it with a wrench. Sliding it back into the waist sheath, he squinted into the blackness.
"Come out, Peppis, I know you're in there," he called. He heard a sniff. "I wouldn't have hit you with the knife, it was just a joke. Honestly."
Slowly, a skeletal little boy emerged from behind some sacking. He was filthy almost beyond belief and his eyes were wide with fear.
"I was just watching you," Peppis said nervously.
Marcus looked more closely at him, noticing a small crust of dried blood under his nose and a purple bruise over one eye.
"Have the men been beating you again?" he said, trying to make his voice friendly.
"A little, but it was my fault. I tripped on a rope and pulled a knot undone. I didn't mean to but Firstmate said he would teach me to be clumsy. I'm already clumsy, though, so I said I didn't need no teaching and then he knocked me about." He sniffed again and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, leaving a silvery trail.
"Why don't you run away at a port?" Marcus asked.
Peppis puffed his chest out as far as it would go, revealing his ribs like white sticks under his skin. "Not me. I'm going to be a sailor when I'm older. I'm learning all the time, just by watching the men. I can tie ever so many knots now. I could have retied that rope today if Firstmate woulda let me, but he didn't know that."
"Do you want me to have a word with the... first mate? Tell him to stop the beatings?"
Peppis turned even paler and shook his head. "He'd kill me if you do, maybe this trip or maybe on the way back. He's always saying if I can't learn to be a sailor, he'll put me over the side some night when I'm sleeping. That's why I don't sleep in my bunk, but out here on the decks. I move around a lot so he won't know where to find me if he thinks it's time."
Marcus sighed. He felt sorry for the little boy, but there was no simple answer to his problems. Even if the first mate were quietly put over the side himself, Peppis would be tortured by the others. They all took part and the first time Marcus had mentioned it to Renius, the old gladiator had laughed and said there was one like him on every ship of the sea. Even so, it galled Marcus to have the boy hurt. He had never forgotten what it was like to be at the mercy of bullies like Suetonius, and he knew that if he had built the wolf trap, and not Gaius, he would have dropped rocks in and crushed the older boy. He sighed again and stood up, stretching tired muscles.
Where would he have ended up if Gaius's parents hadn't looked after him and brought him up? He could very easily have stowed away on a trade ship and have been in just the sort of horrible position Peppis found himself. He would never have been trained to fight or defend himself, and lack of food would have made him weak and sickly.
"Look," he said, "if you won't let me help you with the sailors, at least let me share my food with you. I don't eat much anyway and I've been sending some of it back, especially in rough water. All right? You stay there and I'll bring you something."
Peppis nodded silently and, a little cheered, Marcus went belowdecks to his cramped cabin to fetch the cheese and bread left for him earlier. In truth, he was hungry, but he could go without and the little boy was practically starved to death.
Leaving Peppis to chew on the food, Marcus wandered back to the steering oars, knowing that the first mate took a turn about midnight. Like Peppis, he'd never heard the man's real name. Everyone called hi
m by his station and he seemed to do his job well enough, keeping the crew in line with a hard hand. The little ship Lucidae had a reputation for honest dealing too, with very little of the cargo ever going missing on voyages. Other ships had to write off such small losses to keep their crews happy, but not the owners of the Lucidae.
Marcus brightened as he saw the man had already taken his place, holding one of the two great rudders steady against the currents and chatting in a low voice to his partner on the other.
"A fine evening," he said as he came close. Firstmate grunted and nodded. He had to be polite to paying passengers, but bare civility was all he would offer. He was a powerfully built man and held the rudder with only one arm, while his companion threw his weight and both shoulders into the task of holding his steady. The other man said nothing and Marcus recognized him as one of the crew, tall and long-armed with a shaven skull. He gazed steadfastly ahead, engrossed in his task and the feel of the wood in his hands.
"I'd like to buy one of the crew as a slave. Who should I talk to?" Marcus said, keeping his voice amiable.
Firstmate blinked in surprise, and two gazes rested on the young Roman.
"We're free men," the other said, his voice showing his distaste.
Marcus looked disconcerted. "Oh, I didn't mean one of you, of course. I meant the boy Peppis. He's not on the crew lists. I checked, so I thought he might be available for sale. I need a boy to carry my sword and—"
"I've seen you on the decks," the first mate rumbled from deep in his chest. "You were making angry faces when we were giving him his lessons. I reckon you're one of those soft city lads who thinks we're too hard on the ship boys. Either that or you want him in your bed. Which is it?"
Marcus smiled slowly, revealing his teeth. "Oh dear. That sounds like an insult, my friend. You'd better let that rudder go, so I can give you a lesson myself."
The first mate opened his mouth to retort and Marcus hit it. For a while, the Lucidae wandered off course over the dark sea.
Renius woke him by shaking him roughly.