reached up and tapped it with her hand.
‘You’d be surprised at how many people have asked about it this morning. I already have some orders.’
‘Business on my wedding day!’ he exclaimed and she nodded without embarrassment.
‘May the gods bless your house,’ she said formally.
She moved away and he turned to find Cornelia looking at him quizzically. He kissed her.
‘She is very beautiful. Who is she?’ she said, her voice betraying a touch of worry.
‘Alexandria. She is a slave at Marius’ house.’
‘She doesn’t act like a slave,’ Cornelia replied, dubiously.
Julius laughed. ‘Do I hear jealousy?’
Cornelia did not smile and he took her hands gently in his.
‘You are all I want. My beautiful wife. Come to our new home and I’ll show you.’
Cornelia relaxed as he kissed her, deciding to find out everything she could about the slave girl with the jewellery.
The new house was bare of furniture, or slaves. They were the only ones there and their voices echoed. The bed was a present from Metella, made of carved, dark wood. At least there was a mattress over the slats, and soft linen.
For a few minutes, they seemed clumsy, self-conscious with the weight of the new titles.
‘I think you might remove my toga, wife,’ Julius said, his voice light.
‘I shall, husband. You could unbind my hair, perhaps.’
Then their old passion returned and the clumsiness was forgotten through the afternoon, as the heat built outside.
Julius panted, his hair wet with perspiration. ‘I will be tired out tonight,’ he said between breaths.
A light frown creased Cornelia’s forehead. ‘You’ll be careful?’
‘Not at all, I shall throw myself into conflict. I may start a battle myself, just to impress you.’
Her fingers traced a line down his chest, dimpling the smooth skin. ‘You could impress me in other ways,’
He groaned. ‘Not right now I can’t, but give it a little time.’
Her eyes glinted mischievously as she moved her delicate fingers.
‘I might be too impatient to wait. I think I can awake your interest.’
After a few moments, he groaned again, crumpling the sheets under his clenching fists.
At four o’clock, Julius was hammering at the barracks door, only to be told the general was back up on the walls, walking section after section. Julius had exchanged his toga for a legionary’s simple uniform of cloth and leather. His gladius was held to his belt and he carried a helmet under one arm. He felt slightly light-headed after the hours spent with Cornelia, but he found he was able to leave that longing in a compartment inside himself. He would return to her as the young lover, but at that moment he was a soldier, nephew of Marius, trained by Renius himself.
He found Marius talking to a group of his officers and stood a few paces away, looking over the preparations. Marius had split his legion into small mobile groups of sixteen men, each with assigned tasks, but more flexible than having each century man the wall. All the scouts reported Sulla making a straight line for the city, with no attempt to feint or confuse. It looked as if Sulla was going to risk a direct attack, but Marius still suspected some other plan to make itself evident as the army hove into view. He finished giving his final orders and gripped hands with each of his officers before they went to their posts. The sun had dropped past the zenith point and there were only a few hours until evening began.
He turned to his nephew and grinned at the serious expression.
‘I want you to walk the wall with me, as fresh eyes. Tell me anything you could improve. Watch the men, their expressions, the way they hold themselves. Judge their morale.’
Julius still looked grim and Marius sighed in exasperation.
‘And smile, lad. Raise their spirits.’ He leaned in closer. ‘Many of these men will be dead by morning. They are professionals, but they will still know fear. Some won’t be happy about facing our own people in war, though I have tried to have the worst of those moved back from the first assault wall. Say a few words to as many as you can, not long conversations, just notice what they are doing and compliment them on it. Ask them their names and then use the name in your reply to them. Ready?’
Julius nodded, straightening his spine. He knew that the way he presented himself to others affected how they saw him. If he strode in with shoulders and spine straight, men would take him seriously. He remembered his father telling the boys how to lead soldiers.
‘Keep your head high and don’t apologise unless you absolutely have to. Then do it once, loudly and clearly. Never whine, never plead, never gush. Think before you speak to a man and, when you have to, use few words. Men respect the silent; they despise the garrulous.’
Renius had taught him how to kill a man as quickly and efficiently as possible. He was still learning how to win loyalty.
They walked slowly along a section of wall, stopping and speaking to each soldier and spending a few minutes longer with the leader of the section, listening to ideas and suggestions and complimenting the men on their readiness.
Julius caught glances and held them as he nodded. The soldiers acknowledged him, tension evident. He stopped by one barrel-chested little man adjusting a powerful metal crossbow, set into the stone of the wall itself.
‘What’s the range?’
The soldier saluted smartly.
‘With the wind behind you, three hundred paces, sir.’
‘Excellent. Can the machine be aimed?’
‘A little, nothing precise at the moment. The workshop is working on a moving pedestal.’
‘Good. It looks a deadly thing indeed.’
The soldier smiled proudly and wiped a rag over the winch mechanism that would wind the heavy arms back to their locking slot.
‘She, sir. Something as dangerous as this has to be female.’
Julius chuckled as he thought of Cornelia and his aching muscles.
‘What is your name, soldier?’
‘Trad Lepidus, sir.’
‘I will look to see how many of the enemy she takes down, Lepidus.’
The man smiled again.
‘Oh, it will be a few, sir. No one is coming into my city without the permission of the general, sir.’
‘Good man.’
Julius
