today to get everything ready.’
Cabera looked carefully at him as he tucked his winnings into his ragged brown robe. He nodded to the soldiers and one of them shook hands a little ruefully before walking away.
‘I look forward to meeting this girl who has had such an impact on you. I suppose she is terribly beautiful?’
‘Of course! She is a young goddess. Sweet brown eyes and golden hair. You cannot possibly imagine.’
‘No. I was never young. I was born a wrinkled old man, to the surprise of my mother,’ Cabera answered seriously, making Gaius laugh. He felt drunk with excitement, with the threatening shadow of Sulla’s arrival pushed right to the back of his mind.
‘Marius has given me the purse strings, but the shops close so early. We have no time to waste. Come on!’ Gaius pulled Cabera by the arm and the old man chuckled, enjoying the enthusiasm.
As evening darkened over the city, Marius left the centurions and walked out to make another inspection of the wall defences. He stretched as he walked and felt and heard his back clicking, sore from bending over the plans for so many hours. A warning voice in his mind reminded him of how foolish it was to walk around in this city after dark, even with the curfew still in place. He dismissed it with a shrug. Rome would never hurt him. She loved her son too dearly, he knew.
As if in response to his thoughts, he felt the freshening warm wind on his face, drying the sweat that had seeped from him in the cramped barracks. When Sulla was disposed of, he would see about building a greater palace for the Rome legion. There was a slum area adjoining the barracks that could be flattened by senatorial order. He saw it in his mind and imagined entertaining foreign leaders in the great halls. Dreams, but pleasant as he walked through the silent streets, with only the clack-clack of his sandals breaking the perfect stillness.
He could see the silhouettes of his men against the star-filled night sky long before he reached them. Some were still and some walked their prescribed, overlapping routes at random. At a glance, he could see they were alert. Good men. Who knew what awaited them the next time night fell? He shrugged again to himself and was glad no one could see him in the dim streets. Sulla would come and he would be met with steel. There was no point in worrying and Marius took a deep cleansing breath, putting it all away inside him. He smiled cheerfully as the first of many sentries stopped him.
‘Good lad. Hold that spear steady now, a pilum is a fearful weapon in a strong grip. That’s it. I thought I would take a tour of this section. Can’t stand the waiting, you know. Can you?’
The sentry saluted gravely.
‘I don’t mind it, sir. You may pass.’
Marius clapped his hand against the sentry’s shoulder. ‘Good man. They won’t get past you.’
‘No, sir.’
The legionary watched him go and nodded to himself. The old man was still hungry.
Marius climbed the steps to the new wall his legion had constructed over and around the old gates of Rome. It was a solid and massive construction of heavy interlocking blocks with a wide walkway at the top, where a smaller wall would protect his men from archers. Marius rested his hands on the smooth stone and looked out into the night. If he were Sulla, how would he take the city?
Sulla’s legions had huge siege engines, heavy crossbows, stone throwers and catapults. Marius had used each type and feared them all. He knew that, as well as large stones to batter the wall, Sulla could load his machines with smaller shot that would rip through defenders too slow to duck. He would use fire, launching barrels of rock oil over the wall to ignite the inner buildings. Enough barrels and the men on the wall would be lit from behind, easy targets for archers. Marius had cleared some wooden buildings away from the wall, his men dismantling homes quickly and efficiently. Those he could not move had a huge supply of water at the ready, with trained teams to deal with it. It was a new idea for Rome and one he would have to look into when the battle was over. Every summer, fires gutted houses in the city, sometimes spreading to others before being stopped by a wide street or a thick stone wall. A small group ready with water could …
He knuckled his eyes. Too much time spent thinking and planning. He hadn’t slept for more than a few hours for weeks and the drain was beginning to tell on even his vitality.
The wall would have to be scaled with ladders. It was strong, but Roman legions were practised in taking fortresses and castles. The techniques were almost mundane now. Marius muttered to himself, knowing the nearest sentry was too far away to hear his voice.
‘They have never fought Romans, especially Romans in defence of their own city. That is our true advantage. I know Sulla, but he knows me. They have the mobility, but we have the stronghold and the morale. My men are not attacking beloved Rome, after all.’
Cheered by his thoughts, Marius walked on over the section of wall. He spoke to each man and, recalling names here and there, asked them about their progress and promotions and loved ones. There wasn’t a hint of weakness in any he spoke to. They were like hard-eyed hunting dogs, eager to be killing for him.
By the time he had walked the section and descended back into the dark streets below, Marius felt lifted by the men’s simple faith in him. He would see them through. They would see him through. He hummed a military tune to himself as he strolled back to the barracks and his heart was light.
Gaius Julius Caesar smiled, despite the feeling of anxious weakness that fluttered in his stomach. With the help of Marius’ seamstress, he had sent servants off to buy and organise for most of the night. He’d known the ceremony would have to be simple and was astonished at so many members of the nobilitas in attendance on a cold morning. The senators had come, bringing families and slaves to the temple of Jupiter. Every glance that met his was followed by a smile, and the soft odours of flowers and burning scentwood was strong in the air. Marius and Metella were there at the entrance of the marble temple and Metella was dabbing tears from her eyes. Gaius nodded to them both nervously as he waited for his bride to arrive. He twitched the sleeves of his marriage robe, cut low around his neck to reveal a single amethyst on a slender gold chain.
He wished Marcus was there. It would have helped to have someone who really knew him. Everyone else was part of the world he was growing into: Tubruk, Cabera, Marius, even Cornelia herself. With a pang, he realised that to make it all seem real, he needed someone there who could meet his eye and know the whole journey to that point. Instead, Marcus was away in foreign lands, the wild adventurer he always wanted to be. By the time he returned, the wedding day would just be a memory that he could never share.
It was cool in the temple and for a moment Gaius shivered, feeling his skin prickle as the hairs stood up. He was in a room full of people who didn’t know him.
If his father had lived, he could have turned to him as they all waited for Cornelia. They could have shared a smile, or a wink that said, ‘Look what I’ve done.’
Gaius felt tears come into his eyes and he looked up at the domed ceiling, willing them not to spill onto his face. His father’s funeral had been the end of his mother’s moments of peace. Tubruk had shaken his head when Gaius asked if she was able to come. The old gladiator loved her as much as anyone, he knew.
