crossing each other. In that moment, Gaius understood what Marius had been explaining. These were Roman soldiers who would fight in defence of their city, but their loyalty was to the crest they carried.
All was silent as they waited for the great gates to swing open. Metella appeared out of the shadows and kissed Marius, who responded with enthusiasm, grasping a buttock. His men regarded this impassively, not sharing his lively mood. Then she turned and kissed Gaius and Marcus. To their surprise, they could see tears shine in her eyes.
‘You come back safe to me. I will wait for you all.’ Gaius looked around for Alexandria. He had a vague notion that he could tell her of his noble decision to make way for Marcus. He hoped that she would be touched by his sacrifice and scorn Marcus' affections. Unfortunately, he could not see her anywhere, and then the gates opened and there was no more time.
Gaius and Marcus fell in with Tubruk and Cabera as the soldiers of Marius clattered out onto the dawn streets of Rome.
Under normal circumstances, the streets of Rome would have been empty at dawn, with the majority of the people waking in the late morning and continuing business up to midnight. With the curfew in force, the rhythm of the day had changed and the shops were opening as Marius and his men marched out.
The general led the soldiers, his step easy and sure. Shouts of warning went up from passers-by and Gaius could see people duck back into doorways as they spotted the armed men. After the recent riots, no one was in the mood to stand and watch the procession as it wound its way down the hill to the city forum where the Senate had its buildings.
At first, the main roads emptied as the early-rising workers stood well back for the soldiers. Gaius could feel their eyes on them and heard angry mutters. One word was repeated from hard faces: ‘Scelus!’ – a crime for soldiers to be on the streets. The dawn was damp and cold and he shivered slightly. Marcus too looked grim in the grey light and he nodded as their eyes met, his hand on the hilt of his gladius. The tension was heightened by the clatter and crash as the men moved. Gaius had not realised how noisy fifty soldiers could be, but in the narrow streets the clank of iron-shod sandals echoed back and forth. Windows opened in the high apartments as they passed and someone shouted angrily, but they marched on.
‘Sulla will cut your eyes out!’ one man howled before slamming his door shut.
Marius' men ignored the taunts and the crowd gathering behind them, drawn by the excitement and danger into a swelling mob.
Up ahead, a legionary carrying Sulla's mark on his shield turned at the noise and froze. They marched towards him and Gaius could feel the sudden excitement as every eye fixed on the lone man. He chose discretion over valour and set off at a trot, disappearing around a corner. A man at the front with Marius leaned forward as if to follow, but the general put a hand against his chest.
‘Let him go. He'll tell them I'm coming.’ His voice carried back through the ranks and Gaius marvelled at his calmness. No one else spoke and they continued, feet crashing down in time.
Cabera looked behind them and blanched as he saw the streets filling with followers. There was nowhere to retreat; a crowd was dogging their footsteps, their eyes bright with excitement, calling and hooting to each other. Cabera reached into his robe and brought forth a small blue stone on a thong, kissing it and mumbling a short prayer. Tubruk looked at the old man and put a hand out to his shoulder, gripping it briefly.
By the time they reached the great expanse of the forum, the crowd had spread to fill parallel roads and spilled out behind and around them. Gaius could feel the nervousness of the men he walked behind and saw their muscles tense as they loosened their swords in the scabbards, ready for action. He swallowed and found his throat dry. His heart beat quickly and he felt light-headed.
As if in mockery of the mood, the sun chose the moment they entered the forum to break from behind the morning mists, lighting the statues and temples on one side with gold. Gaius could see the steps of the Senate building ahead and licked suddenly dry lips as white-robed figures came out from the darkness and stood waiting for them. He counted four of Sulla's legionaries on the steps, hands on swords. Others would be on their way.
Hundreds of people were filling the forum from every direction, and jeers and calls could be heard echoing in the nearby streets. They all watched Marius and his men and they left an avenue to the Senate, knowing his destination without having to be told. Gaius clenched his teeth. There were so many people! They showed no sign of fear or awe and pointed, shouted, jostled and shoved each other for a better view. Gaius was beginning to regret having asked to accompany the soldiers.
At the foot of the steps, Marius halted his men and took one pace forward. The crowd pushed in around them, filling every space. The air smelled of sweat and spiced food. Thirty wide steps led up to the doors of the debating chamber. Nine senators stood on them.
Gaius recognised the face of Sulla, standing on the highest step. He stared straight at Marius without expression, his face like a mask. His hands were held behind his back, as if he was about to begin a lecture. His four legionaries had taken up position on the lowest step and Gaius could see that they at least were nervous of what would happen next.
Responsive to some invisible cue, the swelling crowd fell silent, broken here and there by mutters and curses as people struggled for better positions.
‘You all know me,’ Marius bellowed. His voice carried far in the silence. ‘I am Marius, general, consul, citizen. Here, before the Senate, I claim my right to hold a Triumph, recognising the new lands my legion has conquered in Africa.’
The crowd pressed closer and one or two came to blows, sharp yelps breaking the tension of the moment. They pressed against the soldiers and two had to raise their arms and shove figures back into the mass, with more angry shouts in response. Gaius could feel the ugly mood of the crowd. They had gathered as they did when the games were on, to see death and violence and be entertained.
Gaius noticed that the other senators looked to Sulla to respond. As the only other consul, it was his word that carried the authority of the city.
He took two steps down, closer to the soldiers. His face reddened with anger, but his words were quiet.
‘This is unlawful. Tell your men to disperse. Come inside and we will discuss this when the full Senate has convened. You know the law, Marius.’
Those in the crowd who could hear him cheered this, while others shouted vulgarities, knowing they were protected from being seen by the churning mass of people.
‘I do know the law! I know that a general has the right to demand a Triumph. I make that demand. Do you deny me?’ Marius too had taken a step forward and the crowd surged with him, pushing and shoving, spilling onto the Senate steps between the two men.
‘Vappa! Cunnus!’ They screamed abuse at the soldiers who rebuffed them and Marius turned to the front row of his fifty. His eyes were cold and black.
‘Enough. Make room for your general,’ he said, his voice grim.
The front ten men drew their swords and cut down the nearest members of the crowd. In seconds, gashed bodies spat blood over the marble steps. They did not stop, killing with a cold intensity, men and women falling before them. A wail went up as the crowd tried to back away, but those at the rear could not see what was happening and continued to push forward. Every
