The Emperor Series Books 1-5. Conn Iggulden

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cheerfully. ‘She does seem to want me only for sex. Perhaps you can read poetry to her while I run her through the positions.’

      Gaius took a quick breath of indignation, then smiled slowly at his friend.

      ‘With you gone, I will be the one showing her the positions.’ He chuckled to himself at this, hiding his thoughts. What positions? He could only think of two.

      ‘You will be like a bullock after me, with all the practice I have been getting. Marius is a generous man.’

      Gaius looked at his friend, trying to judge how much of his boasting was just that. He knew Marcus had proved a favourite with the slave girls of Marius’ house and was rarely to be found in his own room after dark. As for himself, he didn’t know what he felt. Sometimes he wanted Alexandria so much it hurt him and other times he wanted to be chasing the girls along the corridors as Marcus did. He did know that if he ever tried to force her as a slave, he would lose all that he found precious. A silver coin would buy him that kind of union. The idea that Marcus might have already enjoyed what he wanted made his blood thump in irritation.

      Marcus broke in on these thoughts, his voice low. ‘You will need friends when you are older, men you can trust. We’ve both seen what sort of power your uncle has and I think both of us would like a taste of it.’

      Gaius nodded.

      ‘Then what good will I be to you as a penniless son of a city whore? I can make my name and fortune in my new legion and then we can make real plans for the future.’

      ‘I understand. I remember our oath and I will stick to it.’ Gaius was silent for a moment, then shook his head to clear it of thoughts of Alexandria. ‘Where will you be stationed?’

      ‘I’m with the Fourth Macedonia, so Renius and I are going to Greece – the home of civilisation, they say. I’m looking forward to seeing alien lands. I have heard that the women run races without clothes on, you know. Makes the mind bulge a bit. Not just the mind, either.’ He laughed and Gaius smiled sickly, still thinking of Alexandria. Would she have given herself to him?

      ‘I’m glad Renius is your escort. It’ll do him good to take his mind off his troubles for a while.’

      Marcus grimaced. ‘True, though he won’t be the best of company. He’s been out of sorts ever since he turned up drunk at your uncle’s, but I can understand why.’

      ‘If the slaves had burned my house down, I’d be a bit lost as well. They even took his savings, you know. Had them under the floor, he said, but they must have been found by looters. That was not a glorious chapter in our history, slaves stealing an old man’s savings. Mind you, he’s not really an old man any more, is he?’

      Marcus looked sideways at him. They had never discussed it, but Gaius hadn’t seemed to need telling.

      ‘Cabera?’ Gaius said, catching his eye.

      Marcus nodded.

      ‘I thought so; he did something similar for me, when I was wounded. He is certainly a useful man to have around.’

      ‘I am glad he’s staying with you. He has faith in your future. He should be able to keep you alive until I can come back, covered in glory and draped with beautiful women, all of whom will be the winners of foot-races.’

      ‘I might not recognise you underneath all that glory and those women.’

      ‘I’ll be the same. I’m sorry I’ll miss the Triumph tomorrow. It should really be something special. You know he has had silver coins printed with his face? He’s going to throw them to the crowds in the streets.’

      Gaius laughed. ‘Typical of my uncle. He likes to be recognised. He enjoys fame more than winning battles, I think. He’s already paying the men with those coins so the money gets spread around Rome even faster. It should annoy Sulla at least, which is probably what he really wants.’

      Cabera and Renius came out of the darkness and took up the spaces on Marcus’ bench.

      ‘There you are!’ Renius said. ‘I was beginning to think I couldn’t find you to say goodbye.’

      Gaius noted again the fresh strength of the man. He looked no more than forty, or a well-preserved forty-five. His grip was like a trap as he put out his hand and Gaius took it.

      ‘We’ll all meet again,’ Cabera said.

      They looked at him.

      He held his palms up and smiled. ‘It’s not a prophecy, but I feel it. We haven’t finished our paths yet.’

      ‘I’m glad you’re staying, at least. With Tubruk back at the estate and these two off to Greece, I would be all on my own here,’ Gaius said, smiling a little shyly.

      ‘You look after him, you old scoundrel,’ Renius said. ‘I didn’t go to all the trouble of training him to hear he’s been kicked by a horse. Keep him away from bad women and too much drink.’ He turned to Gaius and held up a finger. ‘Train every day. Your father never let himself become soft and neither should you if you are to be of any use to our city.’

      ‘I will. What are you going to do when you have delivered Marcus?’

      Renius’ face darkened for a second.

      ‘I don’t know. I don’t have the funds to retire any more, so we’ll see … It is in the hands of the gods as always.’

      For a moment, they all looked a little sad. Nothing ever stayed the same.

      ‘Come on,’ he continued, gruffly. ‘Time for sleep. Dawn can’t be more than a few hours away and we all have a long day ahead of us.’

      They shook hands in silence for the last time and returned to their tents.

      When Gaius awoke the following morning, Marcus and Renius were gone.

      By him, folded carefully, was the toga virilis, a man’s garment. He looked at it for a long time, trying to recall Tubruk’s lessons on the correct way to wear one. A boy’s tunic was so much simpler, and the low toga hem would become dirty very quickly. The message was clear in its simplicity: a man did not climb trees and throw himself through muddy rivers. Boyish pursuits were to be put behind him.

      In daylight, the large ten-man tents could be seen stretching into the distance, the orderly lines showing the discipline of the men and their general. Marius had spent most of the month mapping out a six-mile route along the streets that ended, as before, at the Senate steps. The filth had been scrubbed from the stones of the roads, but they were still narrow, winding courses and the legion could get only six men or three horses across. There were going to be just under eleven hundred rows of soldiers, horses and equipment. After a lot of argument with his engineers, Marius had agreed to leave his siege weapons at the camp – there was just no way to get them around the tight corners. The estimate was that it would take three hours to complete the march and that was without hold-ups or mistakes of any kind.

      By the time Gaius had washed, dressed and eaten, the sun was clear of the horizon and the great shining mass of soldiers was in position and almost ready to march. Gaius had been told to dress in a full toga and sandals and to leave his weapons in the camp. After so long carrying a legionary’s tools, he felt a little defenceless without them, but obeyed.

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