The room was lit with warm, flickering lamps, and the wine was as good as Brutus had promised. It was a pleasant meal and Servilia found that she was enjoying the banter between the men. Domitius allowed himself to be persuaded into telling one of his stories, though the conclusion was spoiled slightly as Cabera called it out with enthusiasm, then thumped the table in amusement.
‘That story was old when I was a boy,’ the old man cackled, reaching over to take a portion of fish from a bowl near Octavian. The young man was about to take the same piece and Cabera slapped his fingers to make him drop it, scooping up the rich flesh as it fell. Octavian scowled at him, clearly stifling a response as he remembered the presence of Servilia at the table.
‘How did you come to be with the Tenth legion, Domitius?’ Servilia asked.
‘Brutus arranged it when we were down in the south fighting Spartacus. I’d let him win a couple of practice bouts out of fairness, but on the whole he saw that he could benefit from my training.’
‘Lies!’ Brutus said, laughing. ‘I asked him in passing if he would be willing to transfer to the new legion and he practically bit my arm off in enthusiasm. Julius had to pay a fortune in compensation to the legate. We’re all still waiting to see if he’ll be worth it.’
Domitius waited patiently until Brutus was drinking from his wine cup.
‘I’m the best of my generation, you see,’ he told Servilia, watching in amusement as Brutus fought not to choke, turning red in the process.
The sound of footsteps made them all look up and the men rose together to welcome Julius. He took his place at the head of the table and signalled for them to sit. Servants brought fresh dishes and Brutus filled a cup with wine, smiling when he saw Julius raise an eyebrow at the quality.
The conversation began again and as it did Servilia caught Julius’ eye and inclined her head slightly. He copied the gesture, accepting her at the table, and she found herself letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.
There was an authority to him that she couldn’t recall seeing before. He didn’t join in the laughter, merely smiling at the more outrageous chatter. He punished the wine, Servilia noted, drinking as if it was water and with no obvious effect, though a slow flush appeared at his neck that could have been from the evening heat.
The high spirits at the table were quickly restored. The camaraderie between the men was infectious and after a while Servilia was engaged in the stories and humour with the others. Cabera flirted outrageously with her, winking at inopportune moments and making her snort with amusement. Once as she laughed she caught Julius’ eye again and the moment seemed to freeze, hinting at a deeper reality behind the lively façade of the meal.
Julius watched her, constantly surprised at the effect she had wrought on the usually sombre gathering. She laughed without affectation and in those moments he wondered how he could ever have found her less than beautiful. Her skin was dark and freckled from the sun and her nose and chin a little too strong, yet still she had something that set her apart. The calculating part of him saw how she transferred her attention to whoever spoke, flattering them simply by the interest she showed. She was a woman who liked men and they sensed it. Julius shook his head slightly. His reaction to her disturbed him, but she was so different from Cornelia that no comparison occurred to trouble his thoughts.
He had not been in female company for a long time and then only when Brutus managed to get enough drink in him that he didn’t care any more. Looking at Servilia reminded him of the world outside his soldiers’ rough gatherings. He felt unbalanced with her, out of practice. The thought crossed his mind that he should be careful to keep a distance. A woman of her experience could very well eat him alive.
He shook his head to clear it, irritated with his weakness. The first woman to sit at their table for months and he was reacting with little more sophistication than Octavian, though he hoped his thoughts weren’t so obvious. He’d never hear the end of Brutus’ mockery if they were. He imagined the amused taunts with a shudder and pushed his wine cup away firmly. No matter what, she was hardly likely to show interest in a friend of her son. It was ridiculous even to entertain the idea.
Octavian interrupted Julius’ musings as he reached across the table to offer Servilia the last morsel of a herb dish. The young Roman had grown in strength and skill under the tutelage of Brutus and Domitius. Julius wondered if Octavian would have so much to fear from the apprentices in the city as he’d used to. He doubted it. The boy seemed to thrive in the company of the rough soldiers of the Tenth and even copied the way Brutus walked, to his friend’s amusement. He seemed so young, it was strange to think Julius had been married when only a year older.
‘I learned a new feint this morning, sir,’ Octavian said proudly.
Julius smiled at him. ‘You’ll have to show it to me,’ he said, reaching over to ruffle the boy’s hair.
Octavian beamed in response to the small show of affection. ‘Will you train with us tomorrow, then?’ he asked, readying himself for disappointment.
Julius shook his head. ‘I’m going out to the gold mines with Renius for a few days,’ he said, ‘but perhaps I will when I come back.’
Octavian tried to look pleased, but they could all see he took it as a straight refusal. Julius almost changed his mind, but the dark humours that plagued him eased back into his thoughts. None of them understood his work. They had the light spirits of boys and that carelessness was no longer a luxury he could afford. Forgetting his earlier resolution, Julius reached for his cup and emptied it.
Brutus saw the depression settle on his friend and struggled to find something to divert him.
‘The Spanish swordsmith will begin working with our legion men tomorrow. Can’t you delay the trip until you’ve seen what you paid for?’
Julius stared at him, making them all uncomfortable.
‘No, the preparations are made,’ he said, refilling his cup and cursing softly as he spilled a little of the wine onto the table in the process. Julius frowned at his hands. Was there a tremble there? He couldn’t tell. As rather stilted conversation resumed, he watched them all, looking for some sign that they had seen his weakness. Only Cabera met his eyes and the old man’s face was full of kindness. Julius drained the cup, suddenly angry with all of them.
Servilia dipped her fingers in the water bowl and wiped her mouth delicately with them, a gesture that held Julius’ attention, though she seemed not to notice it.
‘I have enjoyed this, very much, but the journey here was tiring,’ she said, smiling at them all. ‘I will rise early to watch your training, Octavian, if you don’t mind?’
‘Of course, come and watch,’ Brutus said pleasantly. ‘I’ll get a carriage ready for you in the stables, as well. This is a luxurious post, compared to some. You’ll love it here.’
‘Find a good horse and I won’t need the carriage,’ Servilia replied, noting the flicker in Julius’ eyes as he digested this piece of information. Men were such strange creatures, but she had yet to find one who didn’t enjoy the thought of a beautiful woman on a horse.
‘I hope my girls won’t be a disruption to you all. I will look for a place in the city tomorrow. Good night, gentlemen. General.’
They rose with her and again she experienced that strange frisson of excitement as Julius’ eyes met her own.
Julius stood soon after she had left, swaying slightly.
‘I have left my orders in your quarters, Brutus, for the time I am away. Make sure there is a guard on those girls while they are in our care. Good night.’ He left without another word, walking with the exaggerated stiffness