Lupus nodded and steered Marcus ahead as they climbed the stairs to the colonnade that surrounded the debating chamber. The shutters in the tall windows had been opened and shafts of light illuminated the ranks of stone benches facing the two ornate chairs where the consuls sat. One of the chairs was already occupied by a large man with a round face and wispy dark hair.
‘Ah.’ Lupus’s lips lifted in amusement. ‘Consul Bibulus is already here. Waiting impatiently, I expect.’
Marcus leaned on the wooden rail and peered down into the chamber. He saw Caesar making his way through the senators, shaking hands and exchanging greetings. But there were many others who regarded Caesar coolly and Marcus guessed these were the enemies he had mentioned — the faces Marcus was supposed to remember. A chill ran down his spine as he reflected that these senators had been the bitter enemies of his true father, Spartacus. These were the same senators who had ordered the crucifixion of the prisoners after the last battle of Spartacus. Six thousand of them, Brixus had told him — lining the Appian Way from Rome to Capua.
Caesar crossed the open floor between the senators’ benches and the consuls’ chairs, nodding a greeting to Bibulus as he eased himself into his seat. Now that both consuls were in attendance, the rest of the senators took their places. When the last of them had arrived the crowds were finally allowed to enter. Officials formed a line across the doorway to keep the people out as they moved up the stairs and filled the public gallery overlooking the debating chamber.
‘What happens now?’ asked Marcus as people jostled around him, trying to get a good view of the senators.
‘Now?’ Lupus glanced at him with a grim smile. ‘Now we find out who is for Caesar and who is against him.’
4
Marcus leaned forward and watched intently as the chief clerk of the Senate cleared his throat and began to read from the waxed slate in his hands.
‘The first, and only, item on today’s agenda is that proposed by Consul Gaius Julius Caesar.’ He bowed his head to Caesar and returned to his desk where he took up his stylus to record key comments of the coming debate for the official archive of the Roman Senate.
An expectant silence fell on the house. Marcus gazed down at his master. Caesar was still for a moment, milking the tension in his audience, before he rose slowly and drew a deep breath.
‘As every citizen knows, we are living in a time of great prosperity. Peace has returned to Rome, and it is time we honoured the great sacrifices made by our fellow citizens who fought for the glory of Rome. The soldiers of General Pompeius, who have defeated every enemy sent against them. .’
The men who killed my father, and those who had fought with him for their freedom, Marcus thought. He wasn’t sure how he felt, hearing this.
‘Now they have returned to Italia with every expectation that Rome would show its gratitude to them.’ Caesar gestured to the faces peering down from the windows. ‘I am sure there are many here today who are former soldiers of General Pompeius. To them I offer my thanks, on behalf of all the citizens of Rome. To them I say it is only right that Rome should bear the cost of providing them with the land settlement they richly deserve.’
A series of cheers sounded from the public gathered in the colonnade, and then rippled down the stairs into the Forum. Caesar waited for the cries to die down before continuing.
‘Yet here today some senators are opposed to the principle of a fair reward for the gallant service given by our soldiers. I will not name them, as you will know them when they speak against my proposal. They will have to answer to our soldiers for their opposition. .’
Caesar stared around the chamber and then abruptly sat down. At once, one of the other senators rose to his feet and raised his arm to draw attention to himself.
‘I second the consul’s motion.’
‘No surprises there,’ Lupus chuckled.
‘Who is he?’ asked Marcus. He looked down at the tall, distinguished-looking speaker as he continued his support for the measure to resettle Pompeius’s veterans.
‘That’s Marcus Licinius Crassus. He was the richest man in Rome — made most of his fortune from buying and selling tax-collecting contracts. But then General Pompeius returned from the east loaded down with treasures he had looted from our conquests there. They used to be bitter enemies.’
Marcus frowned. He had pinned his hopes on General Pompeius. If Pompeius had enemies, then Marcus needed to find out more. ‘Then why is Crassus supporting Pompeius and his soldiers now?’
Lupus grinned. ‘You can be sure he isn’t doing it out of the goodness of his heart. No doubt he’s stitched up a deal with Pompeius and Caesar. My guess is that he’s after the tax- collection contracts in the provinces that Pompeius has created.’
‘I see.’ Marcus watched a moment longer as Crassus spelled out the reasons why the Senate should vote in favour of the new law. Then he turned to Lupus again.
‘Is General Pompeius here?’
‘For once. He doesn’t usually bother to attend. Turns out he’s a rather better soldier than he is a politician. He made a complete mess of his first speech in the Senate and only comes out when it’s important for him to be seen in public.’
Marcus felt a surge of hope. He asked excitedly, ‘Which one is he?’
Lupus pointed at a well-built man sitting in the front row. He had blond hair, artfully arranged in a neat quiff, and wore gold tores on his hairy wrists, with another around his thick neck. He sat back, arms folded, and nodded at each point made by Crassus. Around him sat a group of senators watching him closely for cues as they added their gestures of support to his.
Marcus stared at the famous general, his excitement building. This was the man for whom Titus had fought, and whose life he had saved in the final battle against Spartacus and his rebel army. This was the man who could help Marcus free his mother, the man Marcus had hoped to find when he first set out for Rome. Perhaps Portia was right, and he should be grateful for ending up in Caesar’s household. He’d never have known how to track down General Pompeius otherwise.
And now he must find some way to get close enough to speak to Pompeius. If only he could do that, Marcus was certain that he would put an end to his mother’s suffering. His mind was suddenly filled with images of her chained to other slaves. He knew she was being forced to work on the farm estate owned by Decimus, the tax collector responsible for inflicting all the suffering that Marcus had endured since the day his men had turned up at Titus’s farm. In his mind’s eye, Marcus saw Titus die at the hands of Decimus’s henchman, Thermon. Then he saw his mother’s face, weary and tear-stained. He felt his throat tighten and his eyes sting as his own tears began to well up.
He cuffed them away before Lupus noticed, angry with himself. He had to be strong, or there would be no chance of saving his mother and himself. He had to remember his gladiator training which had taught him to withstand suffering, to bear pain and injustice without complaint. With an effort, he pushed the images of his mother aside and concentrated on the debate. He needed to think about how it could help his own cause.
Crassus had finished his speech, to mild applause from most of the senators, and loud cheers from the public. One of the senators close to Pompeius stood up to offer his support, before entering into a lengthy speech in praise of Pompeius. The great general accepted this with a modest nod of his head. When the senator had resumed his seat another figure rose to his feet. A complete contrast to the other senators, the tall, thin man was dressed in a simple beige toga over a brown tunic. He wore plain sandals and his hair looked unkempt. The muttering of the watching public died away.
‘Here comes trouble,’ said Lupus. ‘That’s Cato. One of our master’s bitterest enemies. And, incidentally, the father-in-law of the other consul, Bibulus.’