‘There is the consul, coming in. He must use his veto against Cato if the fat fool interferes. This is more than a personal matter between us. The safety of the north is at stake. The safety of Rome herself.’
Pompey left them, shoving rudely through the gathering senators to speak to the consul as he entered. Julius watched as he met the man, an elder elected to the position as a compromise between the Senate factions. As Pompey spoke to him, his hands moving with his words, the man looked nervous and intimidated. Julius frowned, tapping his fingers against his stomach in tension as the consul turned his back on the gesturing Pompey to step up to the rostrum.
‘Take your seats, senators,’ the consul called.
The meeting oath was quickly taken and then the consul cleared his throat to address the tense ranks before him.
‘You have been summoned for an emergency meeting to debate a response to the uprising. I have the latest reports with me and they are worrying. It was a revolt of gladiators from a ring school at Capua. At first the local praetor looked as if he could handle it, but he failed to contain the rebellion. It seems they have managed to gather a slave army and flee north. They have plundered a number of towns and estates, killing hundreds and burning anything they could not steal. The legate at Mutina engaged the slaves and the garrison was destroyed with no survivors.’
He paused. Those senators who had not heard the news gasped and shouted in outrage and the consul raised his hands to calm them.
‘Senators, this threat cannot be overstated. The legions at Ariminum have been told to secure the city, but with Mutina gone, the north is completely open. The estimates I have are varied, but they may have as many as thirty thousand slaves under their command, with more coming in as they ravage each town. I can only assume they overwhelmed the Mutina legions with vast numbers. They must be met with the largest force we can muster while still keeping our southern borders secure. I need not tell you that we cannot strip garrisons from Greece without dire risk so soon after their own rebellion.
‘At present, they show no sign of turning towards Rome, but if they do so, there are more than eighty thousand slaves who could rally to their cause by the time they reach the south. This is a grave threat and our response must be swift and final.’
The consul glanced quickly at Cato, then Pompey.
‘I ask at this time that you put aside your grievances for the good of the city and Roman lands. I call on the master of debate to hear the responses.’
The consul sat down, wiping his brow nervously, obviously relieved to be able to pass the meeting to another. The master of debate had held his post for a number of years, his experience giving him a detachment that served to cool the hottest tempers. He waited patiently for quiet before choosing his first speaker.
‘Pompey?’
‘Thank you. Senators, I ask to be given command of the legions sent against these rebels. My record speaks for me as qualification and I urge you to vote quickly. Every soldier of Rome within a hundred miles has been called back to the city. Within a week, we should have an army of six legions to send against the slaves, joining with the two at Ariminum when we reach it. If we delay, this slave army will grow further until it may be impossible to stop. Remember that they outnumber us, senators, even in our own homes. Grant me the command and I will destroy them in the name of the Senate.’
Pompey sat down to scattered cheers and stamping of feet. He did not respond to the noise, his gaze fixed on the figure of Cato who had risen slowly, his face flushed.
‘Cato to speak,’ the master of debate confirmed.
‘Pompey’s record is indeed a fine one,’ Cato began, smiling at the stone-faced senator across the benches. ‘I agree with him that a force must be assembled and sent to strike quickly before the fire of the rebellion burns the north. However, there are other choices for men to command the force we send, others who bear the rank of general and have experience in fighting for Rome. It strikes me that a man who puts himself forward may not be suitable for such a role. Better we appoint a general who is acceptable to all of us for this difficult task. I confess Pompey’s eagerness makes me uneasy given our recent city history, and instead I suggest the command is handed to Lepidus, fresh returned from Greece.’ He sat down in silence before a babble of angry shouts and conversation broke out, with both factions abusing the other.
‘Be silent, gentlemen. You do not serve Rome with your spite,’ the master of debate said across them, bringing a restless stillness back to the benches. He looked around at the seated senators and nodded to Julius, who had risen at the end of Cato’s speech.
‘I was a witness to the caution of Lepidus against Mithridates. He was late to engage and had barely moved beyond his landing place when I came upon him to hand over the body of the Greek king. I have seen too many such compromises in this Senate. Lepidus is a poor choice, when we need to move quickly and crush the rebellion before it grows out of control. We must put aside our grievances and factions to grant the command to the one who will achieve most and fastest. That is Pompey.’
The master of debate nodded his agreement, dropping his usually impartial stance, but was then compelled to recognise Cato as the man stood again.
‘I am concerned that the threat against us is being used as a blind for ambition, senators. Lepidus will never endanger us when the battles are over, but Pompey may well have his eyes on a future even as we discuss this choice. My vote will be for Lepidus.’ The man lowered himself carefully back into his seat, glaring at Julius for a moment.
‘Are there any other candidates? If so, let them rise, or we will go directly to a vote.’ The master of debate waited, his gaze sweeping the rows.
Crassus stood stiffly, ignoring the surprise of Cato’s supporters. He received the nod to speak and crossed his hands behind his back, like a tutor addressing his wards.
‘Senators, I fear that politics will bring us to the wrong choice for the city. I do not know who would win a vote between Pompey and Lepidus as commanders, but if it is Lepidus, that could only lead to disaster. I put myself forward as a third candidate to prevent the waste of lives that would surely result from any command by Lepidus. Though I have devoted myself to business in recent years, I too rest on my previous record with the legions, for your approval.’
Once again, the noise of conversation broke out all over the senate hall as Crassus sat. Pompey was amazed at the revelation from his friend and tried to catch his eye without success as Crassus looked away from him. As the noise died, Pompey stood, his hands tightening into fists unconsciously.
‘I withdraw my name from consideration in favour of Crassus,’ he said bitterly.
‘Then we will move to a vote without further delay. Rise for your choice, gentlemen,’ the master of debate replied, as surprised as anyone by the turn of events. He waited a few moments more for the senators to make up their minds, then began to call the names.
‘Lepidus!’
Julius craned his neck with everyone else still seated to judge the numbers, then breathed out in satisfaction. There were not enough to carry the vote.
‘Crassus!’ the master of debate intoned, smiling himself.
Julius stood with Pompey and the others who had judged the choice correct. The master of debate nodded to the consul, who stood and gripped the rostrum before him.
‘Crassus is appointed general of the north armies assembling and is ordered to take the field against the rebellion and destroy it utterly,’ the consul said.
Crassus stood to thank the senators.
‘I will do my utmost to preserve our lands and the city, gentlemen. As soon as the legions are brought together in the Campus Martius, I will move against the rebels.’
He paused for a moment and smiled slyly.
‘I will keep the legates in place under me, but I must have a second-in-command should I fall. I name Gnaeus Pompey as that second.’
Curses and cheers broke out all over, with the calls for quiet from the master
of debate ignored. Julius laughed at the stroke and Crassus inclined his head towards him in acknowledgement, clearly enjoying himself.
‘Keep silence!’ the master of debate bellowed above them, finally losing his temper. The babble subsided under his glare, but slowly.
‘We should move on to the details, senators,’ the consul said, shuffling through his papers. ‘Our runners report that the slaves are well armed after Mutina, having outfitted themselves with legionary supplies and armour. One of our people claims to have seen the gladiators training the slaves in sword and spear work, mimicking our formations on the field. After Mutina, they should not be underestimated.’ The consul licked his fingers nervously as he scanned the sheaf of parchments in front of him.
‘Do they have officers?’ Pompey called out.
The consul nodded as he read. ‘It seems they have a structure based on our own legions in every way. I have the original message from the owner of the barracks where the gladiators escaped. It’s here, somewhere.’
The senators waited patiently as the consul found the paper he was looking for.
‘Yes, there were seventy of them and all the guards were killed. The barracks slaves went with them, though whether they were willing or forced, the man does not know. He claims to have barely escaped with his own life. It seems these gladiators form the officer class of the army.’
‘Who leads this rabble of gladiators?’ Pompey demanded, not caring that his tone went some way to confirm the fiction of Crassus’ leadership.
The consul searched through the papers again, and licked his fingers more than once to separate them.
‘Yes, I have it. They are led by a gladiator named Spartacus, a Thracian. He began it and the rest followed him. There is nothing more, but I will pass anything further to Crassus as the reports come in.’
‘With your permission, gentlemen, I would like to leave with my second to prepare for the march ahead of us,’ Crassus said.
As he turned, he tapped his hand on Julius’ shoulder. ‘I want Primigenia with me when we go, Julius,’ he said quietly.
‘They will be ready,’ Julius promised.
Crassus lay back in the warmth of the sunken bath, allowing the difficulties of the day to slide away from him. Darkness had come early outside, but the bathing room was lit with softly flickering lamps and candles, the air thick with steam from the water. He rested his arms along the marble sill, enjoying the coolness against his skin. The water came to his neck, but with the smooth stone seat under the surface, he could relax completely. He exhaled slowly, wondering why the pool in his own estate could never be as comfortable.
Servilia sat naked in the water across from him, only her shoulders above the surface. When she moved, the swelling curves of her breasts eased into view for tantalising moments before they slid down again, blurred by the sweet oils she’d poured for them both. She’d known it was what he wanted as soon as he came to her from his generals, tired and irritable. That had all gone as her fingers worked away the painful spots from his neck before he stepped into the deep pool, set into the floor of a private part of her home. She could always sense his mood.
She watched as the tension of the day left Crassus, amused by his sighs and groans. She knew what hardly anyone else suspected of the ageing senator, that he was a terribly lonely man who had accumulated fortunes and influence without holding on to the friends of his youth. He rarely wanted anything more from her than the chance to talk in privacy, though she knew the sight of her nakedness could still arouse him, if she let it. It was a comfortable relationship, without the sordid worry of payment to spoil the intimacy. He offered her no coin but the conversations, though they were sometimes worth much more than gold.
The oils glittered on the surface of the pool and she traced patterns in them with a finger, knowing he would be enjoying the sight of her.
‘You have brought Primigenia back,’ she said. ‘My son is wonderfully proud of the men he’s found for the name.’
Crassus smiled slowly. ‘If you’d known Marius, you would understand why it gave me such pleasure to do it.’
He chose not to remind her of the part Pompey and Cinna had played, preferring not to hear their names in her house. That was another thing she understood without it having to be said.
Servilia raised herself out of the water, laying her slender arms out to the sides, so that her breasts were fully visible. She was very vain about them and she moved without embarrassment. Crassus smiled appreciatively, completely comfortable with her.
‘I was a little surprised to hear he’d given command to Julius,’ he said.
Servilia shrugged, which fascinated him.
‘He loves him,’ she replied. ‘Rome is lucky to have sons like those two.’
‘Cato would not agree, my dear. You must be wary of him.’
‘I know, Crassus. They are both so very young. Too young to see the danger of mounting debts, even.’
Crassus sighed. ‘You came to me for help, remember? I have set no limit on Primigenia’s purse. Would you have me cancel the debt? I would be laughed at.’
‘For raising Marius’ legion back from the ashes? Never. You have acted as a statesman, Crassus; they will know that. It was a noble thing to do.’
Crassus chuckled, resting his head back on the cool stone and staring up at the ceiling where the steam hung in a cooling mist.
‘You are flattering me rather obviously, don’t you think? We are not discussing a small sum, for all the pleasure it brought me to see Primigenia back on the rolls.’
‘Have you thought that Julius may pay the debt? He has the gold for it.’ As the air cooled on her skin, she shivered slightly and sank back into the water. ‘So much better for you to make a gift of it, a grand gesture to shame the petty men in the Senate. I know you care nothing for money, Crassus, which is why you have so much. It is the influence it brings that you love. There are other kinds of debts. How many times have I passed on information that you used for profit?’
She shrugged in answer to her own question, making the steaming water ripple away from her. Crassus lifted his head with an effort, letting his gaze play over her. She smiled at him.
‘It is a part of my friendship and it has given me pleasure to help you, once in a while. My son will always think kindly of you if you gift the money to him. Julius will support you in anything. You could not buy such men with coins, Crassus. They have too much pride, but a forgiven debt? That is a noble act and you know it as well as I do.’
‘I will … think about it,’ he said, his eyes closing.
Servilia watched him as he sank into light sleep and the water cooled around her. He would do as she wanted. Her own thoughts drifted back to seeing Julius at the trial. Such a forceful young man. When her son had passed over Primigenia to him, she wondered if they had considered the debt to Crassus. It would not be a burden now. Odd how the thought of her son’s gratitude was a minor pleasure compared to Julius knowing she had been a part of the gift.
Idly, she let her hands slide over her stomach as she thought of the young Roman with the strange eyes. He had a force in him that was no more than echoed in the sleeping Crassus, though it was the old man who would take the legions north.
One of her slaves entered the room in silken silence, a beautiful girl Servilia had rescued from a farm in the north.
‘Your son is here, madam, with the tribune,’ the girl whispered.
Servilia glanced at Crassus, then signalled the girl to take her place in the warm water. If he woke, he would not be pleased to find himself alone and the girl was attractive enough to catch even his interest.
Servilia pulled a robe around her still wet skin and shivered slightly in anticipation.
She paused for a moment in front of a huge mirror set into the wall and pushed her damp hair back from her forehead. Her stomach felt light with a surprising tension at the thought of meeting Julius at last and she smiled at herself in amusement.
Brutus sat wi
th Julius in a chamber that had nothing of the artistry she employed for her business rooms. It was simply furnished and the walls were covered in subtly patterned cloth that gave a feeling of warmth. A fire flickered in the grate and the light was golden as both of them rose to greet her.
‘It’s good to see you at last, Caesar,’ she said, extending a hand. Her robe clung to her damp skin exactly as she had hoped it would and his expression gave her pleasure as he struggled not to stare at her.
Julius felt overwhelmed by her. He wondered if Brutus was troubled by the fact that she seemed almost naked, despite the thin cloth that covered her skin. He saw she had been bathing and his pulse thumped at the thought of what might have been going on before his arrival. Not beautiful, he thought, but when she smiled, there was something utterly without pretence in her sensuality. He was dimly aware that he hadn’t slept with a woman for so long he had almost forgotten and, even then, he didn’t remember Cornelia or Alexandria stirring him as this one did so effortlessly.
He flushed slightly as he took her hand.
‘Your son speaks very highly of you. I’m glad we could meet, even for just a moment before I return home. I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.’
‘Primigenia will be mustering to put down the rebellion,’ she said, nodding. His eyes widened slightly as he took in her words. ‘I won’t keep you and I should return to my bath. Just remember you have a friend if you ever need me.’
Julius wondered if there really was a promise in the eyes that looked so warmly back at him. Her voice was low and soft and he could have listened to it for a long time. He shook his head suddenly, as if to break a trance.
‘I will remember,’ he said, tilting his head slightly as he considered her. As she looked at Brutus, he stole a glance to where the lines of damp cloth curved around her breasts and flushed again as she caught his glance and smiled with obvious pleasure.
‘You must bring him again, Brutus, when you have more time. My son speaks highly of both of us, it seems.’
The Emperor Series: Books 1-5 Page 76
