Egypt, India, places without names, even. None of this showed in his expression. Crassus frowned carefully to show the young man he still needed to be persuaded, while his mind reeled at the thought of the fleet he would gather.

“What about your own concessions, Julius?” Pompey said impatiently.

“I want six months in Senate, working with you in mutual support. The promises I made to the people of Rome were not empty. I want to pass new laws and ordinances. Some will upset the more traditional members of the Senate, and I must have your votes with me to ride over their objections. The people have elected me; let us not be held back by Bibilus or a pack of toothless old men.”

“I cannot see what advantage there is to me in such an arrangement,” Pompey prompted.

Julius raised his eyebrows. “Apart from the good of Rome, of course.” He smiled to ease the barb as Pompey colored, knowing he could still lose it all with a false step.

“Your own desires are simple enough, my friend,” Julius said. “You want Dictatorship, though you may resist the name. Crassus and I will endorse any motion or vote you put to the Senate. Anything. Between us, we could have the Senate at our feet.”

“That is no small thing,” Pompey said quietly. What Julius was proposing completely undermined the purpose of having two consuls as a check on each other, but Pompey couldn’t find it in himself to mention it.

Julius nodded. “I would not if I thought you were a lesser man, Pompey. We have disagreed in the past, but I have never questioned your love of this city, and who knows you better than I? We destroyed Cato together, remember? Rome will not suffer under you.”

The flattery was perhaps a little obvious, though Julius found to his surprise that he believed at least part of it. Pompey was a solid leader and would defend Roman interests with determination and strength, even if he would never extend them.

“I do not trust you, Caesar,” Pompey said bluntly. “All these promises could come to nothing unless we are more firmly bound.” He cleared his throat. “I need a token of goodwill from you, a proof of your support that is more than air.”

“Tell me what you want,” Julius said, shrugging.

“How old is your daughter?” Pompey asked. His face was deadly serious and Julius understood his meaning immediately.

“Ten this year,” he replied. “Too young for you, Pompey.”

“She will not always be. Bind your blood to me and I will accept your promises. My own wife is in the grave more than three years, and a man is not meant to be alone. When she is fourteen, send her to me and I will marry her.”

Julius rubbed his eyes. So much depended on reaching an agreement with the two old wolves. If his daughter had been one of his soldiers, he knew he would sacrifice her without a moment’s thought for such stakes.

“Sixteen. She will be your bride at sixteen,” he said at last.

Pompey beamed at him and nodded, stretching out his hand. Julius felt cold as he took it. He had them both, if he could supply the final pieces, but still the problem of Crassus worried at his thoughts. In the silent Curia, Julius could hear the echoes of Pompey’s soldiers as they marched in the forum, and listening to them gave him the answer.

“A legion also, Crassus,” Julius said, thinking quickly. “A new eagle in the Campus Martius, raised in your name. Men I would train and mingle with my best officers for half a year. We will send to the country for them, to the tens of thousands of simple men who have never had the chance to fight for Rome. They would become yours, Crassus, and I can tell you there is no greater bond or joy than forming them into a legion. I will make them for you, but you will wear the general’s plume.”

Crassus looked up sharply at both men, considering the offer. He had longed for a command ever since the disaster against Spartacus, held from it by the nagging doubt that he could not lead as easily as Pompey and Caesar. Listening to Julius made it seem possible, but he tried to speak, to explain his doubts.

Julius laid a hand on his arm.

“I have taken men from Africa and Greece and made them soldiers, Crassus. I will do more with those of Roman blood. Catiline saw a weakness we must remove if Rome is to thrive with your trade, don’t you think? The city needs good men on the walls above all else.”

Crassus flushed. “I may… not be the man to lead them, Caesar,” he said through clenched teeth.

Julius could imagine what it had cost him to make the admission in front of Pompey, but he snorted in reply, “Neither was I until Marius and Renius and, yes, Pompey showed me how, by example and by training. No man leaps full-grown into that role, Crassus. I will be with you in the first steps, and Pompey will always be there. He knows Rome needs a second legion for protection. I doubt he would want anything less in a city that answers to him.”

Both of them looked to Pompey and he answered immediately.

“Whatever you need, Crassus. There is truth in what he says.” Before they could do more than smile,

Pompey went on, “You paint a pretty picture for us, Julius. Crassus with his trade, I with a bride and the city I love. But you have not told us the price for this generosity. Say it now.”

Crassus interrupted, “I will accept these terms, with two additions. A license for five years, not two, and my eldest son, Publius, is to be taken into the Tenth as an officer, a tribune. I am an old man, Julius. My son will lead this new legion after me.”

“I can agree to that,” Julius said.

Pompey cleared his throat impatiently. “But what do you want, Caesar?”

Julius rubbed his eyes again. He had not considered binding his family to Pompey’s line, but his daughter would rise in one stroke to the highest social rank in Rome. It was a fair bargain. Pompey and Crassus were both too old in politics to refuse such an arrangement, and what he offered was a world better than the misery of losing their power and influence, even in part. Julius knew the addictive nature of command. There was no greater satisfaction than to lead. When he looked up at them, his eyes were bright and sharp.

“When my six months are up in the city and the laws I want have been added to the rolls, then it is simple. I want to take my two legions out to new lands. I will give my proxy to Pompey and I want you both to sign orders giving me complete freedom to levy soldiers, strike bargains, and make laws in the name of Rome. I will not report back unless I see fit. I will answer to no man but myself.”

“Will that be legal?” Crassus asked.

Pompey nodded. “If I have the consul’s proxy, it will. There is some precedent.” Pompey frowned in thought. “Where will you take these legions, to do this?” he asked.

Julius grinned, carried away by his own enthusiasm. How he had argued with his friends over the destination! Yet in the end, there had been only one choice. Alexander had gone east and that path was well trodden. He would go west.

“I want the wild land, gentlemen,” he said. “I want Gaul.”

In full armor, Julius strode through the night, heading toward Bibilus’s home. Pompey and Crassus believed he knew some way to muzzle his co-consul, but the truth was he had no clear idea of how to prevent Bibilus and Suetonius from making a mockery of all their plans.

Julius clenched his fists as he walked. He had given up his daughter and pledged time and money and power to Pompey and Crassus. In return, he would have a freedom greater than any Roman general in the city’s history. Scipio Africanus had not had the range of powers Julius would have in Gaul. Even Marius had answered to the Senate. Julius knew he would not let such a thing fall from his hands because of one man, no matter what he had to do.

The crowds parted for him as he swept through. Those who recognized him fell silent. The new consul’s expression forbade any attempt to greet or congratulate him, and more than a few wondered what news could have so angered a man on the very day of his election.