Читать книгу The Emperor Series Books 1-5 - Conn Iggulden - Страница 22

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 man of the fifty soldiers drew his gladius and cut around him, careless of who fell under the blade.

It must have been only a few seconds from start to finish, but it seemed hours to Gaius and Marcus who could only watch in horror as the ranks of the crowd were sliced down like wheat. The bodies littered the forum and the crowd was suddenly fighting to get away, the message having finally got through. A few more seconds and there was a great ring around Marius and his men, growing wider as citizens and slaves alike ran from the red swords.

Not a word had been said. Blades were wiped on the dead and resheathed. The men returned to their positions and Marius looked up at the senators again.

The stones of the forum were slicked wet with blood. The other men on the steps had gone pale, taking involuntary paces backwards away from the slaughter. Only Sulla had held firm and his lips twisted into a bitter grimace as the stench of fresh blood and opened bowels came to him.

The two men looked at each other for a long moment, as if only they were in the forum. The moment stretched and Marius raised his hand as if to give another command to his waiting men.

‘One month from today,’ Sulla snapped. ‘Hold your Triumph, General, but remember you have made an enemy today. Savour the moments of joy that are due to you.’

Marius inclined his head.

‘My thanks, Sulla, for your wisdom.’

He turned his back on the senators and called the turn, walking through the ranks to take up position at the front again. The crowd held back, but anger was on every bitter face.

‘Forward,’ came the bellow and, once again, the crash of iron on stone was heard as the half-century followed their general out of the plaza.

Gaius shook his head in wonderment at Tubruk and Marcus, saying nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a century of Sulla’s men enter the plaza from a side street, each man running with his sword out and in hand. He tensed and would have shouted a warning, but caught Tubruk’s shake of the head.

Behind them, Sulla had raised his hand to halt his men and they stood to attention, watching Marius leave with angry expressions. As Gaius reached the edge of the forum, he saw Sulla make a circle with his right hand in the air.

‘A little too close in timing for my liking,’ Tubruk whispered.

Marius snorted up ahead, overhearing. He strode forward, his voice carrying back.

‘Close formation in the streets, men. This is not over yet.’

The soldiers drew into a tightly packed unit. Marius looked back over his shoulder.

‘Watch the side streets. Sulla will not let us get clean away if he can help it. Keep your wits about you and your swords loose.’

Gaius felt dazed, carried along by events beyond his control. This was the safety of his uncle’s shadow? He walked along with the others, hemmed in by legionaries.

A short, barking scream sounded from behind and Gaius whirled, almost knocked off his feet by the soldier behind him. One of the men was lying on the cobbles, in the filth of the road. Blood pooled around him and Gaius caught a glimpse of three men stabbing and cutting in a frenzy.

‘Don’t look,’ Tubruk warned, turning Gaius forward with gentle pressure on his shoulder.

‘But the man! Shouldn’t we stop?’ Gaius shouted, astonished.

‘If we stop, we’ll all die. Sulla has unleashed his dogs.’

Gaius glanced into a side street as they passed and saw a group of men with daggers drawn, running towards them. By their bearing, they were legionaries, but without uniforms. Gaius drew his sword almost at one with all the others. His heart began to pound again and he felt sweat break out on his forehead.

‘Hold your nerve! We stop for nothing,’ Marius shouted back, his neck and back muscles rigid.

The knife men attacked the back row again as it passed, one of them going down with a gladius in his ribs before the others bore their man down onto the ground. He yelled in fear as his sword was wrenched from his grasp and then the yell was cut suddenly short.

As they marched on, Gaius could hear hoots of triumph from behind. He sneaked a look back and wished he hadn’t as the attackers raised a bloody head and howled like animals. The men around him swore viciously and one of them suddenly stopped, raising his sword.

‘Come on, Vegus, we’re nearly there,’ another urged him, but he shook off the hands on his shoulders and spat at the ground.

‘He was my friend,’ he muttered and broke rank, racing back towards the bloody group. Gaius tried to watch what happened. He could hear the cry as they saw him coming, but then men seemed to pour out of the alleyways and he was torn apart without a sound.

‘Steady,’ Marius shouted, and Gaius could hear the anger in the voice, the first touch of it he’d seen in the man. ‘Steady,’ he called again.

Marcus took a dagger from the man on his right and drifted back through the ranks. He was in the last row of three when they passed the dark mouth of an alleyway and four others sprang, their knives held to kill. Marcus ducked and took the weight of an attacker as they crashed together in a violent embrace. He pulled his knife across the throat he saw so close to his own and blinked as the blood spurted out over him. He used the body to block another thrust and then threw it at the remaining attackers. As it landed, the men went down to swift, punching stabs from the three legionaries, who then rejoined the ranks without a word. One of them clapped a hand on Marcus’ shoulder and Marcus grinned at him. He ghosted up through the ranks again and arrived at Gaius’ side, panting slightly. Gaius clasped the back of his neck for a second.

Then the gates were opening in front of them and they were safe, holding formation until the last man was through into the courtyard.

As the gates closed, Gaius went back to look down the hill they’d walked together. It was deserted, not a face showed. Rome seemed as quiet and orderly as ever.