isn’t it? I own the buildings around us, of course, which is why there aren’t idlers dangling out of every window!’
Scaurus looked about him with thinly disguised amusement.
‘Always one for the theatrical, aren’t you Senator?’
The big man smiled broadly back at him, revelling in his domination of the situation he had so clearly engineered.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t call this theatrical, Rutilius Scaurus, I’d be using the term gladiatorial. ’
The tribune shook his head in bemusement.
‘Gladiatorial? What, do you intend to turn your men loose on us in some sort of pitched battle? What do you think the urban cohorts will make of that? I’m sure they’ll be along soon enough, given the spectacle you made back there with so much illegal iron on the street.’
Albinus shook his head, his smile widening.
‘Oh, I doubt it. The local tribune has managed to get himself rather deeper into debt than might have been sensible, so once I’d purchased that debt it was relatively easy to persuade him to keep his men clear of the area for rather more time than I need for this carefully constructed scenario to play out. Centurion?’
Cotta stepped forward, dropping a sword at Marcus’s feet with a clang of iron on stone, and shot him another pointed glance that narrowed Julius’s eyes with a sudden suspicion. The senator pointed to the weapon, his voice taking on a triumphant tone as he barked out an order.
‘Pick up the sword, Valerius Aquila! Pick up the sword, and prepare to fight for your life!’
Scaurus stepped forward, his expression hardening, and a pair of Albinus’s ex-legion bodyguards moved swiftly to block any attempt to approach their master.
‘What the fuck are you playing at, Decimus ?’
Albinus grinned back at him from behind his protectors.
‘Nice try, Rutilius Scaurus, but no amount of impudence is going to distract me from delivering this lesson to you. Perhaps the death of your pet centurion will teach you to exercise a little more humility with your betters. Now, pick up the sword, boy , or I’ll have my man here kill you anyway, defenceless or not.’
Marcus smiled tolerantly in the face of the insult, bending to take the sword by its hilt.
‘Be warned, Roman …’ Martos stepped forward to stand beside Scaurus and raised a finger to the senator, his expression murderous. ‘If this man is harmed here while you hide behind those swords, I will find you and tear your heart from your body with my bare hands!’
Albinus raised his eyebrows in mock terror.
‘And how will you make that happen, when a word from me will see you dead on the cobbles beside him? Would anybody else like to consider volunteering for a place in the closest refuse pit? No? Let’s be about it then! Centurion!’
Cotta stepped forward, reaching forward to tap Marcus’s blade with his own with an evil grin.
‘You ready to fight, youngster?’
Marcus looked at Scaurus with a helpless shrug, discarding his toga on the square’s cobbles for one of the senator’s bodyguards to remove.
‘This has been coming ever since this man and I laid eyes on each other that night on the Palatine Hill, Tribune.’
Scaurus nodded in reply, and the two men dropped into fighting crouches, each of them watching the other as they circled slowly. Cotta looked his opponent up and down, nodding reluctant approval at the younger man’s muscular frame.
‘You’re a fighting soldier, from the look of you. Britannia, was it?’ Marcus nodded, focusing intently on the other man’s eyes as Cotta shook his head in apparent disgust. ‘Full of tunic lifters and arse pokers, Britannia. It’s a shame your old man didn’t send you somewhere character-forming before they murdered him.’
The younger man feinted forward with the point of his gladius, watching in cold amusement as his opponent stepped back and parried easily.
‘What, somewhere like Dacia?’
Cotta snorted his ridicule.
‘Dacia? Land of cock suckers. And don’t
Scaurus looked about him with thinly disguised amusement.
‘Always one for the theatrical, aren’t you Senator?’
The big man smiled broadly back at him, revelling in his domination of the situation he had so clearly engineered.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t call this theatrical, Rutilius Scaurus, I’d be using the term gladiatorial. ’
The tribune shook his head in bemusement.
‘Gladiatorial? What, do you intend to turn your men loose on us in some sort of pitched battle? What do you think the urban cohorts will make of that? I’m sure they’ll be along soon enough, given the spectacle you made back there with so much illegal iron on the street.’
Albinus shook his head, his smile widening.
‘Oh, I doubt it. The local tribune has managed to get himself rather deeper into debt than might have been sensible, so once I’d purchased that debt it was relatively easy to persuade him to keep his men clear of the area for rather more time than I need for this carefully constructed scenario to play out. Centurion?’
Cotta stepped forward, dropping a sword at Marcus’s feet with a clang of iron on stone, and shot him another pointed glance that narrowed Julius’s eyes with a sudden suspicion. The senator pointed to the weapon, his voice taking on a triumphant tone as he barked out an order.
‘Pick up the sword, Valerius Aquila! Pick up the sword, and prepare to fight for your life!’
Scaurus stepped forward, his expression hardening, and a pair of Albinus’s ex-legion bodyguards moved swiftly to block any attempt to approach their master.
‘What the fuck are you playing at, Decimus ?’
Albinus grinned back at him from behind his protectors.
‘Nice try, Rutilius Scaurus, but no amount of impudence is going to distract me from delivering this lesson to you. Perhaps the death of your pet centurion will teach you to exercise a little more humility with your betters. Now, pick up the sword, boy , or I’ll have my man here kill you anyway, defenceless or not.’
Marcus smiled tolerantly in the face of the insult, bending to take the sword by its hilt.
‘Be warned, Roman …’ Martos stepped forward to stand beside Scaurus and raised a finger to the senator, his expression murderous. ‘If this man is harmed here while you hide behind those swords, I will find you and tear your heart from your body with my bare hands!’
Albinus raised his eyebrows in mock terror.
‘And how will you make that happen, when a word from me will see you dead on the cobbles beside him? Would anybody else like to consider volunteering for a place in the closest refuse pit? No? Let’s be about it then! Centurion!’
Cotta stepped forward, reaching forward to tap Marcus’s blade with his own with an evil grin.
‘You ready to fight, youngster?’
Marcus looked at Scaurus with a helpless shrug, discarding his toga on the square’s cobbles for one of the senator’s bodyguards to remove.
‘This has been coming ever since this man and I laid eyes on each other that night on the Palatine Hill, Tribune.’
Scaurus nodded in reply, and the two men dropped into fighting crouches, each of them watching the other as they circled slowly. Cotta looked his opponent up and down, nodding reluctant approval at the younger man’s muscular frame.
‘You’re a fighting soldier, from the look of you. Britannia, was it?’ Marcus nodded, focusing intently on the other man’s eyes as Cotta shook his head in apparent disgust. ‘Full of tunic lifters and arse pokers, Britannia. It’s a shame your old man didn’t send you somewhere character-forming before they murdered him.’
The younger man feinted forward with the point of his gladius, watching in cold amusement as his opponent stepped back and parried easily.
‘What, somewhere like Dacia?’
Cotta snorted his ridicule.
‘Dacia? Land of cock suckers. And don’t
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