“Oh, I think I can manage something better than that for a son of mine,” she said carelessly.

He stopped and took her arm gently. “What… How?” he began.

She laughed at his confusion, making him blush.

“Sometimes I forget how innocent you can be,” she said, softening the words with her smile. “You have spent too long marching and fighting, I think. Yes, that's probably it. Mixing with savages and soldiers and not a breath of politics in your life.”

She reached up to where he held her and pressed her hand over his with affection.

“The Senate are simply men, and men rarely do what is right. Most of the time, they do what they are persuaded, or ordered, or frightened into doing. Golden bribes will change hands, but the true currency of Rome is influence and favors. I have the first and I am owed many favors. Half those appointments will have been decided on already, in those private meetings. The rest can be bargained for or demanded.”

She expected a smile at her words, but Brutus looked pained and she let her hand fall from his.

“I thought it was… different,” he said quietly.

Servilia composed herself, caught between a desire not to shatter his illusions and an urgent need to wake the young soldier to reality before he got himself killed.

“Do you see that enclosure? You remember I told you it is where the people of Rome come to vote for the appointments of the Senate, the tribunes, the quaestors, even the praetors? It is a secret vote and they take it seriously, yet time and again the same men are elected, the same families, with few changes. It seems fair, but the voters would not know an outsider. Only the Senate have fame enough and wealth enough to have their names in the mouths of the lowliest freemen of the city. It is all an illusion, but an elegant one. What is astonishing is that a few of the Senate do try to be just, earnestly improving the city and the welfare of her citizens.” Servilia pointed over to the Senate house. “There are great men in that building, men who light up the city with their works. Most of the others, though, lack strength of any kind. They use the power of the Senate for riches and greater authority for themselves. That is the simple reality. The Senate is neither evil nor blessed, but a mixture, like everything else we set our hands to in this life.”

Brutus studied her as he listened to her intensity. Whether she knew it or not, Servilia was not as detached and world-weary as she liked to appear. Her generally cynical air had vanished as she talked of the venal senators, the dislike obvious. She was not a simple woman, he thought to himself, not for the first time.

“I understand you. It's just that when I met Marius he was like a god. Small things were beneath him. I've met so many who couldn't see further than their work or their rank, and when I look back he had a vision for the city and everything he did was to make it a reality, no matter what it cost him. He risked everything he owned to bring Sulla down, and he was right to! Sulla set himself up like a king in Rome the moment Marius was dead.”

Servilia looked quickly around to see if anyone was close enough to overhear. She spoke softly.

“Don't say those names so loudly in public, Brutus. Those men may be dead, but the wounds are still fresh and they haven't found Sulla's killers yet. I'm glad you met Marius. He never came to my house, but even his enemies had respect for him, I know that. I wish there were more like him.” Her tone lightened as she seemed to shrug away the seriousness of the subject. “Now let's walk on before the gossips start to wonder what we're talking about. I want to climb the hill up to the temple of Jupiter. Sulla had it rebuilt after the civil war, you know, shipping the pillars from the remains of the temple to Zeus in Greece. We will make an offering there.”

“In his temple?” Brutus asked as they walked.

“The dead don't own temples. It belongs to Rome, or the god himself, if you want. Men try so hard to leave something behind. I think that's why I love them.”

Brutus looked at her, struck again by the feeling that this woman had seen and lived lifetimes for his one.

“Do you want me to take a legion post?” he asked.

She smiled at the safer topic. “It would be the right thing to do. There is little point in me having favors owed if I never call them in, is there? You could spend your whole career as a centurion, overlooked by blind commanders, finishing your days with a little farm in a barely tamed new province, having to sleep with your sword. Take what I can give you. It pleases me to be able to help you after being gone from your life for so long. You understand? It is a debt I owe you, and I always pay my debts.”

“What did you have in mind?” he asked.

“Ah, the interest sharpens, does it? Good. I would hate to think a son of mine lacked ambition. Let's see. You are barely nineteen years old, so religious posts are out for a few years. It should be military. Pompey will have his friends vote any way I want. He is an old companion. Crassus too will throw in with me for past favors. Cinna would clinch it. He is… a more current friend.”

Brutus spluttered in amazement. “Cinna, Cornelia's father? I thought he was an old man!”

Servilia chuckled, the sound deep and sensual. “Sometimes he is, sometimes he's not.”

Brutus went crimson with embarrassment. How could he look Cornelia in the eye the next time he met her?

Servilia continued, her mouth twitching upward as she ignored his confusion. “With their support, you could have command of a thousand men in any of the four legions they will review. What do you think?”

Brutus almost stumbled. What she offered was astonishing, but he realized he would have to stop being surprised at every revelation from Servilia. She was a very unusual woman in many ways, especially to have as a mother. A thought struck him and he stopped walking. She turned and looked at him with her eyebrows raised in enquiry.

“What about Marius's old legion?”

Servilia frowned. “Primigenia is finished. Even if the name were brought back, there can't be more than a handful of survivors. Use your head, Brutus. Every one of Sulla's friends would learn your name. You'd be lucky to survive a year.”

Brutus hesitated. He had to ask or he would always wonder about not taking the chance.

“Is it possible, though? If I accept the risk, can those men you mentioned order it re-formed?”

Servilia shrugged and another passerby stared at her, captured for a moment. Brutus touched the hilt of his gladius and the man moved on.

“If I asked it, yes, but Primigenia was disgraced. Marius was declared an enemy of the state. Who would come to fight under that name? No, it's impossible.”

“I want it. Just the name and the right to gather and train new soldiers. I can't think of anything I would want more.”

Servilia looked into his eyes, searching them. “Are you sure?”

“Can Crassus, Cinna, and Pompey do it?” he said firmly.

Servilia smiled, still amazed at how this young man could send her emotions swinging from anger and amusement to pride in moments. She could not refuse him anything.

“It would take every favor I have, but they do owe me. For my own son, they would not deny me Primigenia.”

Brutus wrapped his arms around her and she returned the embrace laughingly, swept up in his happiness.

“You will need to raise enormous capital if you are to bring a legion back from the dead,” she said as he let her go. “I will introduce you to Crassus. I don't know anyone richer-I don't think there is anyone with more wealth-but he is not a fool. You will have to convince him of some return for his gold.”

“I will give it some thought,” Brutus said, looking back at the Senate building behind them.