Brutus saw that Alexandria was standing stiffly amongst them and moved to her side instinctively.

Julius caught the movement and understood it.

“We need you here, Alexandria. No one else has lived in the city for the last few years, and I want that knowledge.”

She blushed prettily as she relaxed, and Brutus squeezed her buttock, unseen by the others. His mother looked sharply at him as Alexandria slapped his hand away, but Brutus only smiled at her before looking back at Julius.

“Where is this daughter of yours?” Brutus asked. He was curious to see the girl.

“She’ll be out in the stables,” Julius said. “She rides like a centaur, you know. I’ll call her in before she’s ready to sleep.” For an instant, pride touched his features as he thought of his daughter, and Brutus smiled with him. Then Julius cleared his throat, looking round at them all.

“Now, I need to decide what I am to do tomorrow morning, when I walk into the forum and declare for the consul’s post.”

Everyone tried to speak at once and the knock at the door went unheard for the first few moments.

Clodia opened it and her expression brought quiet as they saw her.

“There is… I could not stop him,” she began.

Julius took her by the arm. “Who is it?” he asked.

He froze as he caught sight of the figure behind her and stood back with Clodia to let the door swing open.

Crassus stood there, dressed in a toga of startling white against his dark skin. A gold clasp glittered at his shoulder and Alexandria blinked as she recognized her own work, wondering if it was coincidence or subtle proof of his understanding of the relationships in the room.

“Good evening, Caesar. I believe your post of tribune was never revoked. Should I address you by that title now that you have left the praetorship of Spain behind you?”

Julius bowed his head, struggling to hide the anger he felt at the man’s casual entry into his home. His mind spun with sudden thoughts. Were there soldiers outside? If there were, Crassus would find it harder to leave than to enter, he swore silently. Julius released his grip on Clodia’s arm and she left the room quickly without looking back. He did not blame her for letting Crassus into his home. Though she had run the house as its mistress, she had been too many years a slave not to be frightened by one of the most powerful men in the Senate. No door could be barred against a consul of Rome.

Crassus saw the tension in the young man he faced and continued. “Put yourself at ease, Julius. I am a friend to this house, as I was to Marius before you. Did you think you could land a legion on my coastline without word reaching me? I would imagine even Pompey’s feeble ring of spies has heard you are back by now.” Crassus caught sight of Servilia in the room and lowered his head slightly in greeting.

“You are welcome here,” Julius said, trying to unbend. He knew he had hesitated too long and suspected the older man had enjoyed every moment of the confusion he had created.

“I am glad,” Crassus replied. “Well, if someone will fetch another chair, I will join you, with your permission. You will need a strong speech tomorrow if you mean to have a consul’s robe next year. Pompey will not be pleased to hear of it, but that is the sweetness to the sauce.”

“Are there no secrets from you?” Julius asked, beginning to recover.

Crassus smiled at him. “Confirmed by your own mouth! I thought there could be no other reason for you to leave the post as praetor. I trust you appointed a replacement before you sailed for Rome?”

“I did, of course,” Julius replied. To his surprise, he found he was enjoying the exchange.

Crassus took the chair Octavian vacated for him and settled himself, using his long fingers to tweak his toga into neatness. The tension in the room began to ease as they accepted him amongst them.

“I wonder, did you think you would just stride through the forum and ascend the speakers’ platform?” Crassus asked.

Julius looked blankly at him. “Why not? Servilia tells me Prandus will be there to speak. I have as much right as he.”

Crassus smiled, shaking his head. “I believe you would have done, at that. Better to come at my invitation, Julius. Pompey will not be asking for you to join us, after all. I look forward to seeing his face when you enter your name onto the lists.”

He accepted a cup of wine and sipped at it, wincing slightly.

“You realize Pompey may claim you have abandoned your duty by leaving before your term in Spain was finished?” he said, leaning forward in his seat.

“I am immune from prosecution as tribune,” Julius replied quickly.

“Unless it is a crime of violence, my friend, though I suppose deserting your post is safe enough.

Pompey knows your protection, but how will it look to the people? From now until the elections, Julius, you must not only act well, but be seen to act well, or the votes you need will be wasted on another candidate.”

Crassus looked around at the others in the room and smiled as his eyes met Alexandria’s. His fingers caressed the gold clasp at his shoulder for an instant, and she knew he recognized her and experienced a thrill of danger. For the first time since Brutus had found her in the workshop, she realized that Julius collected as many enemies as he did friends, and she was not yet sure which Crassus was.

“What do you gain by helping me?” Julius said suddenly.

“You have a legion I helped to rebuild, Julius, when it was still named Primigenia. I have been… persuaded of the need for men in the city. Trained men who cannot be bribed or tempted away by the gangs of raptores.”

“You claim a debt from me?” Julius replied, tensing himself to refuse.

Crassus glanced at Servilia and exchanged a look of understanding that Julius could not fathom.

“No. I waived any debts too long ago to mention. I am asking freely for your help and in return my clients will help to spread your name in the city. You do have only a hundred days, my friend. Even with my aid, that is a short time.”

He saw Julius hesitate and went on: “I was a friend to your father and Marius. Is it too much to ask for trust from the son?”

Servilia tried to will Julius to look at her. She knew Crassus better than anyone else in the room and hoped Julius would not be fool enough to refuse him. She watched the man she loved with something like pain as she waited for his reply.

“Thank you, Consul,” Julius said formally. “I do not forget my friends.”

Crassus smiled in genuine pleasure. “With my wealth…” he began.

Julius shook his head. “I have enough for this, Crassus, though I thank you.”

For the first time, Crassus looked at the young general with the beginning of real respect. He had been right in his judgment, he thought. He could work with him and infuriate Pompey at the same time.

“Shall we toast your candidacy, then?” Crassus asked, raising his cup.

At Julius’s nod, the rest of them took wine and held the vessels awkwardly as they waited. For a moment, Julius regretted finishing the Falernian, but thought better of it. Tubruk could raise a cup of it to them, wherever he was.

Julia sat out in the darkness of the stables, enjoying the warm comfort that the horses brought. She walked down the stalls and patted their soft muzzles, speaking softly to each one. She paused at the enormous gelding her father’s friend had brought that woman on. It was strange to use the word. Her father. How many times had Clodia told her about the brave man who had been sent away from the city by a consul’s whim? She had made her own pictures of him, telling herself he was held by the bonds of duty and could not return for her. Clodia always said he would come back in the end and everything would be all right, but now that he was there, Julia found him more than a little frightening. As soon as he had put his foot in the dust of the yard, everything had changed and the house had a new master.