He still remembered his father’s eyes when he protested. There was no love, just a cool appraisal that found him always wanting.

Suetonius raised his head and relaxed his tight hands. He would see his father and commiserate with him. Perhaps he wouldn’t flinch when Suetonius looked him in the eye, as if he were sickened by what he saw there. Perhaps he wouldn’t look so disappointed in his son.

Bibilus had seen the change in his friend’s gait and took the opportunity.

“It’s getting hot, Suetonius. We should be heading back to the inn.”

Suetonius stopped and turned to his friend.

“How wealthy are you, Bibilus?” he asked suddenly.

Bibilus rubbed his hands nervously, as he always did when the subject of money came up between them. He had inherited a sum large enough never to have to work, but talking about it made him hot with embarrassment. He wished Suetonius didn’t find the subject so fascinating.

“I have enough, you know. Not like Crassus, obviously, but enough,” he said warily. Was he after another loan? Bibilus hoped not. Somehow the only time Suetonius promised repayment was at the moment of asking. When he had the money, it was never mentioned again. When Bibilus summoned enough courage to bring up the outstanding sums, Suetonius became irritable and usually ended up storming off, until Bibilus had to apologize.

“Enough to stand for consul, Bibilus? There’s still another day or two before the Senate list is closed to new names.”

Bibilus blinked in confusion and horror at the idea. “No, Suetonius, definitely not. I will not, even for you. I like my life and position in the Senate as it is. I wouldn’t want to be consul even if they offered it to me.”

Suetonius stepped closer to him and took hold of his damp toga, his face filled with distaste. “Do you want to see Caesar as consul? Do you even remember the civil war? Do you remember Marius and the damage he did? If you stand, you could split the vote for Caesar and let one of the others in with my father.

If you are a friend to me, you won’t hesitate.”

“I am, of course, but it won’t work!” Bibilus said, trying to pull away from the anger. The thought that Suetonius would smell his sweat was humiliating, but the grip was hard on his toga, exposing the white skin of his sagging chest.

“Even if I stand and gather a few votes, I could take them from your father as easily as Caesar, don’t you see? Why don’t you stand yourself, if that’s what you want? I’ll give you campaign funds, I swear it.”

“Have you lost your mind, telling me to stand against my own father? No, Bibilus. You may not be much of a friend, or much of anything, but there’s no one else on the list of any note. If we do nothing, my father will be destroyed by Caesar. I know how he panders to the mob, how they love him. How many would honor my father with Caesar parading himself like a glittering whore? You come from an old family and you have the money to raise your name before the election.” His eyes brightened with malice as he considered the idea.

“My father has not been away from Rome for years, remember, and he has support in the richer centuries, who vote first. You saw the speeches. Caesar appeals to the shiftless poor. If a majority is reached early, half of Rome may not be called to vote. It can be done.”

“I don’t think-” Bibilus stammered.

“You must, Bibi, for me. Just a few of the early centuries at the vote would be enough, and then he will be shamed into leaving Rome. If you see my father’s vote is suffering, you can withdraw. Nothing could be simpler, unless you would prefer to let Caesar be consul without a fight?”

Bibilus tried again. “I don’t have the funds to pay for-”

“Your father left you a fortune, Bibi; did you think I didn’t know that? Do you think he would want to see Cato’s old enemy as consul? No, those petty loans you have given me in the past are nothing more than a few days’ living for you.” Suetonius seemed to sense the incongruity of holding his friend so tightly even as he tried to persuade him. He let go and straightened Bibilus’s toga with a few twitches of his fingers.

“That’s better. Now, will you do this for me, Bibilus? You know how important it is to me. Who knows, you might enjoy being consul with my father, if it comes to that. More importantly, Caesar must not be allowed to slide his way into power in this city.”

“No. Do you hear? I will not!” Bibilus said, wheezing slightly in fear.

Suetonius narrowed his eyes and gripped Bibilus by the arm, pulling him away from their companions.

When he could not be overheard, Suetonius leaned in close to the sweating face of the young Roman.

“Do you remember what you told me last year? What I saw when I came to your house? I know why your father despised you, Bibilus, why he sent you away to your fine house and retired from the Senate.

Perhaps that was why his heart gave out, who knows? How long do you think you would survive if your tastes became public knowledge?”

Bibilus looked ill, his face twisting. “It was an accident, that girl. She had a flux…”

“Can you stand the light of day on you, Bibilus?” Suetonius said, pressing still closer. “I’ve seen the results of your… enthusiasm. I could bring a case myself against you and the penalties are unpleasant, though not more than you deserve. How many little girls and boys have passed through your hands in the last few years, Bibilus? How many of the Senate are fathers, do you think?”

Bibilus’s wet mouth shook in frustration. “You have no right to threaten me! My slaves are my own property. No one would listen to you.”

Suetonius showed his teeth, his face ugly with triumph. “Pompey lost a daughter, Bibi. He’d listen.

He’d make sure you suffered for your pleasures, don’t you think? I’m sure he would not turn me away if I went to him.”

Bibilus slumped, his eyes filling with tears. “Please…” he whispered.

Suetonius patted him on the shoulder. “There is no need to mention it again, Bibi. Friends do not desert each other,” he said, rubbing the damp flesh comfortingly.

“One hundred days, Servilia,” Julius said as he took her in his arms on the steps of the Senate. “I have men searching the law cases to come. I’ll choose the best of them to make my name, and the tribes will come to listen. Gods, there’s so much to do! I need you to contact everyone with debts to my family. I need runners, organizers, anyone who can argue for me on the streets from dawn to dusk. Brutus must use the Tenth to bring the gangs to heel. It’s my responsibility now, thanks to Crassus. The old man is a genius, I swear it. In one stroke, I have the power I need to prove I can make the streets safe. It’s all come so quickly,

I almost don’t-”

Servilia pressed her fingers onto his lips to stop the torrent of words. She laughed as he continued to talk, mouthing muffled ideas as they struck him. She kissed him then and for a second he continued to talk as their lips touched, until she slapped him lightly on the cheek with her free hand.

He broke away, laughing.

“I have to meet the Senate and I can’t be late for them. Start the work, Servilia. I’ll meet you here at noon.”

She watched him as he ran up the steps and disappeared into the gloom within, and then walked down to where her guards waited, her step light.

As Julius reached the door to the outer chamber, he found Crassus waiting for him. The older man looked strangely nervous and beads of sweat ran into the lines of his face.

“I must speak to you before you go in, Julius,” Crassus said. “Not inside, where there are ears to hear us.”

“What is it?” Julius asked, feeling a sudden weight descend on him as he registered the consul’s nervousness.

“I have not been entirely honest with you, my friend,” Crassus replied.