‘A good general is prepared for every eventuality,’ Marius said as he handed the documents to Gaius. ‘These are money orders. They are as good as gold in your hand, drawn on the city treasury. I do not expect to have them repaid, they are a gift to you.’
Gaius looked at the sums and fought to smile. The amounts were large, but would barely cover the debts he had run up with the moneylenders. Marius hadn’t been able to keep a close eye on his nephew as the preparations for Sulla’s return continued and Gaius had run lines of credit in those first few months after Alexandria, buying women, wine and sculpture – all to increase his standing in a city that had respect only for gold and power. With borrowed wealth, Gaius had come onto a jaded social scene as a young lion. Even those who distrusted his uncle knew Gaius was a man to be watched and there was never a problem with the ever larger sums he required, as the rich struggled to be next to offer finance to Marius’ nephew.
Marius must have caught a hint of Gaius’ disappointment and interpreted it as worry for the future.
‘I expect to win, but only a fool wouldn’t plan for disaster where Sulla was involved. If it doesn’t go as I have planned, take the drafts and get out of the city. I have included a reference that should get you a berth on a legion vessel to take you to some far post of the empire. I … have also written documents naming you as a son of my house. You will be able to join any regiment and make your name for a couple of years.’
‘What if you crush Sulla, as you expect?’
‘Then we will continue with your advance in Rome. I will secure a post for you that carries life membership of the Senate. They are jealously guarded, come the elections, but it should not be impossible. It will cost us a fortune, but then you are in, truly one of the chosen. Who knows where the future will take you after that?’
Gaius grinned, caught up in the man’s enthusiasm. He would use the drafts to pay off the worst of his debts. Of course, the horse sales were next week and the rumour was that Arabian princes were bringing new breeds of warhorses, huge stallions that could be guided with the gentlest touch. They would cost a fortune, a fortune very like the one he held in his hand. He tucked the papers inside his toga as he left. The moneylenders would wait a little longer, he was sure.
In the cool night outside Marius’ town house, Gaius weighed up his options for the hours before dawn. As usual, the dark city was far from quiet and he didn’t feel ready for sleep. Traders and cart-drivers swore at each other, smiths hammered, somebody laughed in a nearby house and he could hear crockery being smashed. The city was a place of life in a way the estate could never match. Gaius loved it.
He could go and listen to the orators in the forum by torchlight, perhaps joining in one of the endless debates with other young nobles until the dawn made them all go home. Or he could seek out Diracius’ home and satisfy other appetites. Wiser not to venture alone through the dark streets, he thought, remembering Marius’ warnings about the various raptores who lurked in the dim alleys, ready for theft or murder. The city was not safe at night and it was easy to become lost in the maze of unnamed, twisting streets. One wrong turning could lead a wanderer into an alley filled with piles of human filth and great pools of urine, though the smell was usually enough of a warning.
A month before, he might have gathered companions for a wild night, but the face of one girl had been appearing more and more in his thoughts. Far from dwindling, his longing for her seemed to be fired by contact rather than quenched. Cornelia would be thinking of him in her father’s estate rooms. He would go to her and scale the outer wall, slipping past her father’s house guards one more time.
He grinned to himself, remembering the sudden fear as he had slipped during the last climb, hanging above the hard stones of the street below. It was getting so he knew every inch of that wall, but one mistake would cost him a pair of broken legs or worse.
‘Worth the risks for you, my girl,’ he whispered to himself, watching the night air frost his breath as he walked through the unlit city streets to his destination.
The Cinna estate began the bustle of the working day as early as any other in Rome, heating water, firing the ovens, sweeping, cleaning and readying the clothes of the family before they awoke. Before the sun had risen fully, a slave entered Cornelia’s room, looking round for clothes to be collected for washing. Her thoughts were on the thousand chores to be completed before the mid-morning light meal and at first she noticed nothing. Then her eyes strayed to where a muscled leg sprawled over the side of the bed. She froze as she saw the sleeping couple, still entwined.
After a moment of indecision, her eyes lit up with malice and she took a deep breath, cracking the still scene with wild screams.
Gaius rolled naked off the bed and onto the floor in a crouch. He took in the situation in a second, but didn’t waste any time on cursing himself. He grabbed toga and sword and bolted for the window. The slave girl ran to the door, still screaming, and Cornelia spat oaths after her. Thundering footsteps sounded, and the nurse Clodia came into the room, her face full of outrage. She swung her hand and connected with the slave girl’s face, cutting off the scream with a dull smack of flesh and spinning her right round.
‘Get out quickly, lad,’ Clodia snapped at him as the slave girl whimpered on the floor. ‘You’d better be worth all the trouble this is going to cause!’
Gaius nodded, but turned from the window and came back into the room to Cornelia.
‘If I don’t go, they’ll kill me for an intruder. Tell them my name and tell them you’re mine, that I’ll marry you. Tell them, if anyone harms you I’ll kill him.’
Cornelia didn’t answer, just reached up and kissed him.
He pulled away, laughing. ‘Gods, let me go! It is a fine morning for a bit of a chase.’
She watched with amusement as his white buttocks flashed over the windowsill and away, trying to compose herself for the drama to come.
Her father’s guards entered the room first, led by the dour captain who nodded to her and crossed to the window, looking down.
‘Get going,’ he shouted to his companions. ‘I’ll cross the roofs after him, you men intercept him down below. I’ll have his skin on my wall for this. Your pardon, lady,’ he said as a farewell to Cornelia as his red face dropped out of sight.
Cornelia fought not to giggle with tension.
Gaius slipped and skittered on the tiles, scraping skin from elbows and knees as he sacrificed safety for breakneck speed. He heard the captain shouting behind him, but didn’t look back. The tiles offered precious little grip and all he could really do was control the speed of his fall as he slid towards the edge and the street below. He had time to swear as he realised his sandals were in the room above. How could he make any kind of jump in only his bare feet? He’d break bones for sure and then the chase would be over. He lost his grip on the toga to save the gladius, by far the more valuable of the two items. He managed to cling to the edge of the roof and inched along it, not risking standing up in case archers were waiting for him. It would not be unusual for a man of Cinna’s wealth to have a small army on his estate, much as Marius had.
Crouching low, he knew he was out of sight to the swearing, puffing captain behind him and Gaius looked around desperately for a way out of the predicament. He had to get off the roof. If he stayed, they would simply search each part of it until they found him and either pitch him off onto his head or drag him before Cinna for punishment. With the heat of betrayal on him, Cinna would be deaf to pleas and death would quickly follow for the charge of rape. In fact, Gaius realised Cinna would not even have to bring charges, he would simply summon a lictor and have the man execute Gaius on the spot. If Cinna was