"Worth the risks for you, my girl," he whispered to himself, watching the night air frost his breath as he walked through the unlit city streets to his destination.
CHAPTER 25
The Cinna estate began the bustle of the working day as early as any other in Rome, heating water, firing the ovens, sweeping, cleaning, and readying the clothes of the family before they awoke. Before the sun had risen fully, a slave entered Cornelia's room, looking round for clothes to be collected for washing. Her thoughts were on the thousand chores to be completed before the midmorning light meal, and at first she noticed nothing. Then her eyes strayed to where a muscled leg sprawled over the side of the bed. She froze as she saw the sleeping couple, still entwined.
After a moment of indecision, her eyes lit up with malice and she took a deep breath, cracking the still scene with wild screams.
Gaius rolled naked off the bed and onto the floor in a crouch. He took in the situation in a second, but didn't waste any time on cursing himself. He grabbed toga and sword and bolted for the window. The slave girl ran to the door, still screaming, and Cornelia spat oaths after her. Thundering footsteps sounded, and the nurse Clodia came into the room, her face full of outrage. She swung her hand and connected with the slave girl's face, cutting off the scream with a dull smack of flesh and spinning her right round.
"Get out quickly, lad," Clodia snapped at him as the slave girl whimpered on the floor. "You'd better be worth all the trouble this is going to cause!"
Gaius nodded, but turned from the window and came back into the room to Cornelia.
"If I don't go, they'll kill me for an intruder. Tell them my name and tell them you're mine, that I'll marry you. Tell them, if anyone harms you I'll kill him."
Cornelia didn't answer, just reached up and kissed him.
He pulled away, laughing. "Gods, let me go! It is a fine morning for a bit of a chase."
She watched with amusement as his white buttocks flashed over the windowsill and away, trying to compose herself for the drama to come.
Her father's guards entered the room first, led by the dour captain who nodded to her and crossed to the window, looking down.
"Get going," he shouted to his companions. "I'll cross the roofs after him; you men intercept him down below. I'll have his skin on my wall for this. Your pardon, lady," he said as a farewell to Cornelia as his red face dropped out of sight.
Cornelia fought not to giggle with tension.
Gaius slipped and skittered on the tiles, scraping skin from elbows and knees as he sacrificed safety for breakneck speed. He heard the captain shouting behind him, but didn't look back. The tiles offered precious little grip, and all he could really do was control the speed of his fall as he slid toward the edge and the street below. He had time to swear as he realized his sandals were in the room above. How could he make any kind of jump in only his bare feet? He'd break bones for sure and then the chase would be over. He lost his grip on the toga to save the gladius, by far the more valuable of the two items. He managed to cling to the edge of the roof and inched along it, not risking standing up in case archers were waiting for him. It would not be unusual for a man of Cinna's wealth to have a small army on his estate, much as Marius had.
Crouching low, he knew he was out of sight to the swearing, puffing captain behind him, and Gaius looked around desperately for a way out of the predicament. He had to get off the roof. If he stayed, they would simply search each part of it until they found him, and either pitch him off onto his head or drag him before Cinna for punishment. With the heat of betrayal on him, Cinna would be deaf to pleas, and death would quickly follow for the charge of rape. In fact, Gaius realized Cinna would not even have to bring charges; he would simply summon a lictor and have the man execute Gaius on the spot. If Cinna was of a mind to, he could have Cornelia strangled to save the honor of his house, though Gaius knew the old man doted on his only daughter. If he had genuinely believed she would suffer, he would have stayed to fight it out, but he thought she would be safe enough against old Cinna's rage.
Down below, where the roof overhung the street, Gaius could hear shouting as the house guards formed a ring that blocked all the exits. Behind him, the scrabbling of iron-shod sandals on tiles was getting closer, and so he took a deep breath to calm himself and ran, hoping his speed and balance would keep him on the treacherous surface long enough to find safety. The guard captain cried out in recognition as he broke cover, but Gaius didn't have time to look back. The nearest roof was too far away to leap onto, and the only flat place on the whole complex was a bell tower with a small window.
He made the sill with a desperate jump as his legs finally lost all grip, and he heaved himself up and over it, panting in great gulps of the cold morning air. The bell room was tiny, with steps leading down inside it to the main house below. At first, Gaius was tempted to run down them, but then a plan surfaced in his mind and he steadied his breathing and stretched a few muscles as he waited for the captain to reach the window.
Moments after his decision to stay, the man blocked the sunlight and his face lit up at the sight of the young man cornered in the bell house. They looked at each other for a moment, and Gaius watched with interest as the thought of being killed as he climbed in crossed the other man's face. Gaius nodded to him and stood well back to allow him entrance.
The captain grinned nastily at him, panting from the run.
"You should have killed me while you had the chance," he said, drawing his sword.
"You would have fallen off the roof and I need your clothes—especially those sandals," Gaius replied calmly, unsheathing his own gladius and standing relaxed, apparently unaware of his nakedness.
"Will you tell me your name before I kill you? Just so I have something to tell my master, you know," the captain said, moving lightly into a fighters crouch.
"Will you give me your clothes? This is too fine a morning for killing," Gaius countered, smiling easily.
The captain began to reply and Gaius attacked, only to have his sword batted aside. The man had been expecting such a move and was ready for it. Gaius realized quickly that he was facing a skilled opponent and focused, aware of every move in the dance. The floor was too small a space for ease, and the stairwell loomed between them, threatening to send one of them tumbling.
They feinted and struck around the space, looking for weaknesses. The captain was puzzled at the young man's skill. He had bought the position in Cinna's guard after winning a city sword tournament and knew he was the better of most men, but time and again his attacks were driven aside with speed and precision. He wasn't worried, though. At worst, he could simply hang on until help arrived, and as soon as the searchers realized where they fought, more would be sent up the stairs to overwhelm the intruder. Some of this confidence must have shown in his face, as Gaius went on the offensive at last, having got the measure of his man.
Gaius lunged through the captain's guard and pierced his shoulder. The man took the wound with a grunt, but Gaius knocked his riposte aside and opened a gash in the leather chestplate. The captain found himself with his back to the wall of the little bell tower, and then a bruising blow on his fingers sent his gladius down the stairwell, clattering and rebounding in its fall. The hand felt useless and he looked into Gaius's eyes, expecting the cut that would finish him.
Gaius barely slowed. He turned his sword at the last second so that the flat of it slammed against the man's temple and dropped him senseless onto the floor.
More shouts sounded below and he began to strip the captain, fingers working feverishly.
"Come on, come on..." he muttered to himself. Always have a plan, Renius had advised him once, but apart from stealing the man's clothes, he hadn't had time to think the rest of his escape through.
After an age, he was dressed. The captain was stirring and Gaius hit him again with the hilt, nodding as the twitching movements ceased. He hoped he hadn't killed him; the man had been doing what he was paid to do and without
malice. Gaius took a deep breath. Stairs or window? He paused for only a second, put his own gladius into the captains scabbard, now strapped to him, and strode down the stairs back into the main house.
Marius clenched his fists at the news from the breathless messenger.
"How many days behind you are they?" he said as calmly as he could.
"If they force-march, they can't be more than three or four behind. I came as fast as I could, changing horses, but most of Sulla's men had landed by the time I set off. I waited to be sure it was the main force and not just a feint."
"You did well. Did you see Sulla himself?"
"I did, though it was at a distance. It seemed to be a full landing of his legion returning to Rome."
Marius tossed a gold coin to the man, who snatched it out of the air. Marius stood up.
"Then we must be ready to greet him. Gather the other scouts together. I will prepare messages of welcome for you to take to Sulla."
"General?" the messenger asked, surprised.
"Ask no questions. Is he not the conquering hero returned to us? Meet me here in an hour to receive the letters."
Without another word, the man bowed and left.
The captain was found by the searchers as he stumbled naked from the bell tower, holding his head. There was no sign of the intruder, despite the exhaustive search that went on all morning. One of the soldiers remembered a man dressed like the captain who had gone off to check down a side street, but he couldn't remember enough detail to give a good description. At midday, the search was called off, and by then the news of Sulla's return had hit the streets of Rome. An hour later, one of the house guards noticed a small wrapped package leaning against the house gate and opened it, finding the captain's uniform, scabbard, and sandals. The captain swore as he was handed it.
Gaius was summoned into Marius's presence that afternoon and had prepared a defense of his actions. However, the general seemed not to have heard of the scandal and only motioned Gaius to sit with his centurions.
"No doubt by now you will have heard that Sulla has landed his forces on the coast and is only three or four days from the city."
The others nodded and only Gaius had to try to hide the shock he felt.
"It is a year and four months to the day since Sulla left for Greece. I have had enough time to prepare a suitable homecoming."
Some of the men chuckled in response and Marius smiled grimly.
"This is no light undertaking. You are all men I trust and nothing I say here is to leave this room. Do not discuss this with your wives or mistresses or most trusted friends. I have no doubt that Sulla has had spies in the city watching my every move. He must be aware of our preparations and will arrive fully warned of Rome's readiness for civil war."
The words, said at last in the open, chilled the hearts of all who heard them.
"I cannot reveal all my plans even now, save to say this. If Sulla reaches the city alive, and he may not, we will treat his legion as an attacking enemy, destroying them on the field. We have supplies of grain, meat, and salt to last us for many months. We will seal the city against him and destroy him on the walls. Even as we speak, the flow of traffic has ceased in and out of Rome. The city stands alone."
"What if he leaves his legion in camp and comes to demand his rightful entry?" asked a man Gaius didn't know. "Will you risk the wrath of the Senate, declare yourself dictator?"
Marius was silent for a long time, then he raised his head and spoke quietly, almost in a whisper.
"If Sulla comes alone, then I will have him cut down. The Senate will not brand me a traitor to the state. I have their support in everything I do."
This much was true: There was not a man of influence who would dare to put a motion to the Senate condemning the general. The position was clear.
"Now, gentlemen, your orders for tomorrow."
Cornelia waited patiently until her father had finished, allowing his rage to wash over her, leaving her untouched.
"No, Father. You will not have him tracked down. He will be my husband and you will welcome him into our house when the time comes."
Cinna purpled in renewed anger. "I'll see his body rot first! He comes like a thief into my home and you sit there like a block of marble and tell me I will accept it? I will not, until his body lies broken at my feet."
Cornelia sighed gently, waiting for the tirade to slow down. Shutting her ears against the shouting, she counted the flowers that she could see from the window. Finally, the tone changed and she brought her attention back to her father, who was looking at her doubtfully.
"I love him, Father, and he loves me. I am sorry we brought shame to the house, but the marriage will wash it all away, despite the gossips in the market. You did tell me I could choose a man I wanted, remember?"
"Are you pregnant?"
"Not as far as I know. There will be no sign when we are married, no public show."
Her father nodded, looking older and deflated.
Cornelia stood and put her hand on his shoulder. "You won't regret it."
Cinna grunted dubiously. "Do I know him, this despoiler of innocence?"
Cornelia smiled, relieved at his change in mood. "You do, I'm sure. He is the nephew of Marius. Gaius Julius Caesar."
Her father shrugged. "I have heard the name."
CHAPTER 26
Cornelius Sulla sipped cooled wine in the shadow of his tent, looking over the legion camp. It was the last night he would have to bear away from his beloved Rome. He shivered slightly in the breeze and perhaps in anticipation of the conflict to come. Did he know every aspect of Marius's plans, or would the old fox surprise him? Messages of official welcome lay upon the table, ignored for the formality they were.
Padacus rode up, pulling the horse into a flashy stop with the rear legs buckling on the turn. Sulla smiled at him. So very young, and such a very beautiful man, he noted to himself.
"The camp is secure, General," Padacus called as he dismounted. Every inch of his armor was polished and glowing, the leather soft and dark with oil. A young Hercules, Sulla thought as he received and answered the salute. Loyal unto death, though, like a pampered hound.
"Tomorrow night, we will enter the city. This is the last night for hard ground and living like barbarians," Sulla told him, preferring the simple image over the reality of soft beds and fine linen in the general's tent at least. His heart was with the men, but the privations of a legionary's life had never appealed to the consul.
"Will you share your plans, Cornelius? The others are all eager to know how you will handle Marius."
Padacus had pressed a little too closely in his enthusiasm, and Sulla held up a palm.
"Tomorrow, my friend. Tomorrow will be soon enough for preparations. I will retire early tonight, after a little more wine."
"Will you require... company?" Padacus asked softly.
"No. Wait. Send a couple of the better-looking whores to me. I might as well see if I have anything new to learn."
Padacus dropped his head as if he'd been struck. He backed to his horse and trotted away.
Sulla watched his stiff retreat and sighed, splashing the remaining wine in his goblet onto the black ground. It was the third time the young man had offered, and Sulla had to face the fact that he was becoming a problem. The line between adoration and spite was fine in young Padacus. Better to send him away to some other legion before he caused trouble that could not be ignored. He sighed again and walked into the tent, flicking the leather sheet closed over the entrance behind him.
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 crushin
g 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.