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Crassus sighed as Servilia’s slave girl massaged the knotted muscles of his neck and shoulders. The frozen fruit he had eaten lay cold in his stomach, and after he had been fully relaxed on the table, the luxury of a hot pool awaited him, steaming in the open night. Across from him, Servilia lay along a padded couch, looking up at the stars. Though there was no moon to light the heavens, the sky was clear and she could see the tiny red disk of Mars above the line of the tiled roof that surrounded the open courtyard. The hot pool gleamed under the light of lamps, and heavy moths fluttered into the flames, crackling as they died.

“This place is worth every coin,” Crassus murmured, wincing slightly as the slave girl worked a painful point between his shoulder blades.

“I knew you would appreciate it,” Servilia replied, smiling with real pleasure. “So few who come to my house have an eye for the beautiful things, but what are we without them?”

Her gaze fell on the freshly painted plaster of the new wing of her town house. Crassus had secured the land and she had paid a full market rate for it, without resentment. Anything else would have meant a shift of their relationship, and she liked and honored the old man who lay so comfortably under the strong fingers of her Nubian girl.

“Are you not going to press me for information, then?” he asked without opening his eyes. “Am I no longer useful to you?”

Servilia chuckled, sitting up. “Old father, be silent if that is what you want. My house is yours for as long as you need it. There is no obligation.”

“Ah, the worst kind,” he replied, smiling to himself. “What is it you want to know?”

“These new men in the Senate, Clodius and now Titus Milo, the owner of the meat market. Are they dangerous?” she said. Though she spoke lightly, Crassus knew her full attention was on the answer.

“Very much so,” he replied. “I would not like to enter the Senate when they are there.”

Servilia snorted. “You don’t fool me with your sudden devotion to trade, old man. I doubt there is a word spoken there that doesn’t find its way back to you.”

She smiled sweetly at him then and he opened his eyes and winked at her before shifting under the hands of the slave to guide her to a new place. Servilia shook her head at his games.

“How is your new legion shaping?” she asked.

“Well enough, my dear. When my son Publius returns from Gaul, I may find a use for them. If I survive the current unrest.”

“Is it that bad?” she asked.

Crassus propped himself up on his elbows, his expression becoming serious. “It is. These new men sway the mob of Rome and recruit more and more to their gangs each day. The streets are no longer safe even for members of the Senate, Servilia. We must be thankful that Milo occupies so much of Clodius’s time. If either one of them should destroy the other, the victor would be free to wreak havoc in the city. As it is, each man is the check on his colleague, at least for the moment. I have heard they consider parts of the city their own, so that the followers of Clodius may not cross certain streets without a beating, even in the day. Most of Rome cannot see the struggle, but it is there nonetheless. I have seen the bodies in the Tiber.”

“And Pompey? Does he not see the threat?”

Crassus shrugged. “What can he do against their code of silence? The raptores fear their masters more than anything Pompey can do to them. He at least will not attack their families after they are dead. When a trial is considered, the witnesses disappear or become unable to remember. It is a shameful thing to see,

Servilia. It is as if a great sickness has come into the city, and I do not see how it can be cut out.” He sighed in distaste.

“The Senate house is the core of it and I spoke the truth when I said I was glad my business takes me away from it. Clodius and Milo meet openly to sniff and taunt each other before their animals terrorize the city at night. The Senate do not have the will to control them. All the little men have fallen in with one or the other, and Pompey has less support than he realizes. He cannot match their bribes, nor their threats.

At times, I wish Julius would come back. He would not see Rome descend into chaos while he had life in him.”

Servilia looked up at the bright evening star, trying to hide her interest. When she glanced at Crassus, she saw his eyes were open, studying her. There was little the old man didn’t know or guess.

“Have you heard from Julius?” she asked at last.

“I have. He offers me trade concessions with the new lands in Gaul, though I think he paints a prettier picture than the full truth to tempt me in. Mind you, if half of what he says is true, I would be a fool to miss the opportunity.”

“I saw the notices around the city,” Servilia said softly, thinking of Julius. “How many will respond?”

“With Clodius and Milo making life a misery with their struggle, I would think there will be thousands crossing the Alps in the spring. Land for the taking: who can resist such an offer? Slaves and trade for every man with enough energy to make the trip. If I were younger and poor, I might consider his offer myself. Of course, I am ready to provide the stores and supplies to anyone who wants to go to his fabulous new provinces.”

Servilia laughed. “Always the merchant?”

“A merchant prince, Servilia. Julius used the term in one of his letters, and I rather like it.” He waved away the slave girl and sat up on the long bench.

“He is more useful than he knows, is Julius. When the city looks too long inward to its own affairs, we create men like Clodius and Milo, who care nothing for the greater events of the world. The reports Julius pays to be read on every street corner raise the spirits of the lowest tanner or dyer in the markets.” He chuckled. “Pompey knows it, though he hates to see Julius so successful. He is forced to fight for him in the Senate whenever Suetonius objects to some little breach of the laws. Such a bitter draft for that man to swallow, but without Julius and his conquests, Rome would become a stagnant pool, with all the fish eating each other out of desperation.”

“And you, Crassus? What does the future hold for you?”

Crassus rose from the table and lowered himself into the warm bath set in the floor, oblivious of his nudity. “I find that old age is the perfect balm for raging ambition, Servilia. My dreams are all for my son.”

His eyes twinkled in the starlight and she did not believe him.

“Will you join me?” he asked.

As an answer, Servilia stood and undid the single clasp that held the cool material to her. She was naked underneath and Crassus smiled at the unveiling.

“How you do love drama, my dear,” he said with amusement.

Julius swore as the Roman squares faltered. After two days of pursuit, he had forced the Suebi to face them only a few miles short of the Rhine. He knew he should have expected the attack, but when it came, the reversal had been so sudden that the armies clashed before the Roman legions could even untie their spears.

The warriors of Ariovistus were every bit as brutal as they had expected. They gave no ground unless it was over the corpses of their men, and the cavalry swirled like smoke around the battlefield, with charges forming the instant the Romans broke their squares to attack.

“Mark Antony! Support the left!” Julius bellowed, glimpsing the general in the heaving mass. There was no sign of his order having been heard over the clash of arms.

The battlefield was in chaos and, for the first time, he began to fear a defeat. Every Suebi rider ran with another man hanging on the horse’s mane, and that speed of movement was making it almost impossible to counter them. Julius saw with horror that two of the Ariminum legions were close to being overwhelmed on the left flank and there was no sign of a supporting force arriving to help them. He could no longer see Mark Antony, and Brutus was embroiled in the fighting, too far away to help. Julius tore a shield from a legionary’s grasp and raced on foot across the battlefield.