She spoke quickly to cover the pause, wondering if he had noticed her distraction, or the flush that had come to her cheeks.

“You haven’t seen Rome recently, Julius. There are so many poor now. The slave army left almost no one to work the fields, and the beggars are like flies. At least Pompey gives them a taste of glory, even when their bellies are empty. The Senate wouldn’t dare to hold him back in anything, in case the mobs rise and consume them all. It was a fragile peace when I left, and I doubt anything has improved since then. You couldn’t know how close they are to chaos. The Senate lives in fear of another uprising to rival the battles with Spartacus. Everyone who can afford them has guards and the poor kill each other in the streets with nothing done about it. They are not easy times, Julius.”

“Perhaps I should return then. I haven’t seen my daughter in four years and Pompey owes me a great deal. Perhaps it is time to call in a few of my debts and make sure I am a part of the work again.”

For a moment, his face lit with a passion that made her heart lift as she saw the image of the man she’d watched at the trial, holding the Senate rapt as he took justice from his enemies. Then, just as quickly, it was gone and he blew air through his lips in exasperation.

“I had a wife to share it with before all this. I had Tubruk, who was more like a father to me than a friend; my home. The future was rushing on me with a kind of… joy. Now I’ve nothing but new swords and mines and it seems pointless. I would give anything to have Tubruk come back for one hour to share a drink with me, or the chance to see Cornelia just for a while, long enough to say sorry for breaking my promises to her.”

He rubbed his eyes with his hand before walking on. Servilia almost reached for him then, knowing her touch could bring him comfort. She resisted with an enormous effort of will. The touch would lead to more, and though she ached to be held herself, she had the strength not to play the game she knew so well, that she had known all her life. A younger woman might have gathered him in without shame at the moment of his weakness, but Servilia knew too much to try. There would be other days.

Then he turned to her and held her tightly enough to hurt, his mouth pressing her lips to open for him.

She gave way to it, unable to help herself.

Brutus slid neatly from the saddle as he passed under the gates of the fort. The Tenth had staged complex maneuvers out in the hills and Octavian had done well, using the force he had been given to flank Domitius in a skillful display. Brutus didn’t hesitate as he ran into the buildings. The dark moods that had cast a cloud over them all were already a memory, and he knew Julius would be pleased to hear how well his young relative was doing. Octavian had the shoulders to command, as Marius used to say.

The guard at the base of the steps was out of position, standing well back from his post. Brutus heard him shout as he clattered up the stairs, but only grinned.

Julius was lying on a couch with Servilia, their faces flushed in panic at the sudden, noisy arrival of Brutus into the room. Julius leapt naked to his feet and faced his friend in rage.

“Get out!” he roared.

Brutus froze in disbelief, then his face twisted and he spun around, slamming the door shut behind him.

Julius turned slowly to meet Servilia’s eyes, already regretting his anger. He pulled his clothes on roughly, sitting back on the long couch. Her perfume was heavy in his nostrils and he knew he smelled of her. As he stood, the warmth of the cloth was left behind and he drew away, thinking of what he had to do.

“I’ll go out to him,” she said, standing.

Wrapped in bitterness, Julius barely noticed her nudity. It had been madness to fall asleep where they could be found, but there was no point in regretting what was past. He shook his head as he tied his sandals.

“You have less of an apology to make. Let me find him first,” he said.

Her eyes hardened for a moment. “You won’t apologize… for me?” she said, her voice deceptively calm.

Julius stood and faced her. “Not for a moment of you,” he said, softly.

She came into his arms then and he found there was something indescribably erotic in holding a naked woman while fully clothed. He broke away with a grin despite his worry for Brutus.

“He’ll be all right when he’s calmed down a little,” he said to reassure her, wishing he believed it. With steady hands, he buckled his gladius to his waist. Servilia looked suddenly afraid.

“I don’t want you to fight him, Julius. You must not.”

Julius forced a laugh that seemed to echo in his empty stomach.

“He’d never hurt me,” he said as he left.

Outside the door, Julius’s expression settled into a grim mask as he came down the stairs. Domitius and Cabera were there with Ciro, and he imagined their eyes accused him.

“Where is he?” Julius snapped.

“Training yard,” Domitius said. “I’d leave him for a while if I were you, General. His blood’s running hot and it’ll do no good to have it out now.”

Julius hesitated, then his old recklessness swept through him. He had brought it about and the price was his to pay.

“Stay here,” he said curtly. “He’s my oldest friend and this is private.”

Brutus stood alone in the empty yard, a gladius by Cavallo glittering in his hand. He nodded as Julius walked toward him, and once again Julius almost hesitated at the black glare that followed his every movement. If it came to blood, he could not beat Brutus. Even if he could steal victory, he doubted he could take that life above all others.

Brutus brought the shining blade into first position and Julius emptied his mind with the old discipline Renius had taught. This was an enemy and he could kill him.

Julius unsheathed his sword.

“Did you pay her?” Brutus said softly, breaking his concentration.

Julius fought against the spiky anger that came to him then. They had both learned from the same man, and he knew better than to listen. They began to circle each other.

“I think I knew, but I didn’t believe it,” Brutus began again. “I knew you wouldn’t shame me with her, so I didn’t worry.”

“There is no shame,” Julius replied.

“Yes. There is,” Brutus said and moved.

Of all men, Julius knew his style better than anyone, but he barely managed to parry a blade sent straight at his heart. It was a killing blow and he could not excuse it. Anger rose in him then and he moved a little faster, his step a little firmer on the ground as his senses quickened. So be it.

Julius darted in, ducking under a sweep of silver and forcing Brutus onto his back foot. He pulled his blade to the side to cut, but Brutus skipped away with a sneer, then answered with a rain of blows.

They broke clear, beginning to pant slightly. Julius clenched his left hand into a fist to close a gash across his palm. The blood dripped slowly from it as he moved around, leaving spots like glossy eyes to vanish in the sand.

“I love her,” Julius said. “I love you. Too much for this.” With a gesture of disgust, he threw his sword away and stood facing his friend.

Brutus brought the point up to his throat and looked into Julius’s eyes.

“They all know? Cabera, Domitius, Octavian?”

Julius looked steadily back at him, steeling himself not to flinch.

“Perhaps. We didn’t plan it, Brutus. I didn’t want you to walk in on us.”

The sword was a still point in a moving world. Julius clenched his jaw, a vast sense of calm settling over him. He relaxed every muscle consciously and stood waiting. He did not want to die, but if it came, he would treat it with contempt.

“This is no small thing, Marcus. Not for me, not for her,” he said.

The sword came down suddenly and the manic light died from Brutus’s eyes.