Tubruk climbed the inner steps up the wall of the estate, thankful for the early warning brought in by the field slaves. He strained to see details of the marching column coming along the road toward them.
“Two or three centuries, it looks like,” he called down to Cornelia, who had come out from the buildings at the summons. “I can't see standards, but they're in full armor. It could be part of the Roman garrison.”
“Will you turn out the men?” Cornelia asked nervously.
Tubruk didn't reply at first, intent on his scrutiny of the approaching force. They were well disciplined and armored, but the absence of standards worried him immensely. The death of Pompey's daughter had brought a tension back to the old families of Rome that had been missing since the death of Sulla. If such a powerful senator could suffer an attack in his own home, then no one was safe. Tubruk hesitated. If he summoned Brutus and his soldiers to guard the gate, it could be seen as provocation, or an insult to a legitimate force. He gripped the hard stone of the wall as he came to a decision. He would rather offend someone than be found vulnerable, and the approaching centuries could be assassins with all legion marks removed.
“Call Brutus. Tell him I need his men out here now!” Tubruk shouted down to Cornelia. She abandoned dignity to run back into the estate buildings.
By the time the approaching column was less than a thousand paces away, Brutus had his men in formation by the gate, ready to rush out into the attack. There were only twenty with him and Tubruk wished they'd had room for more, though he'd laughed at the young commander traveling with even that many at first.
Brutus felt the old anticipation tighten his stomach. For a moment, the child in him wished he hadn't left Renius in the city barracks, but it was a momentary weakness. As he bared his gladius, his confidence swelled and his men responded, their tension giving way to tight smiles. They could all hear the tramp of soldiers moving closer to the estate, but there was not a trace of fear in them.
A small figure ran out of the stables and skidded to a stop almost at Brutus's feet.
“You're not coming with us,” Brutus snapped to forestall the request. He knew very little about the urchin Tubruk had rescued, and at that moment he lacked the patience for an argument. Octavian opened his mouth and Brutus barked an order at him, made angry by the sight of a glinting dagger in the boy's hand.
“Get away from here!”
Octavian froze, his eyes wide, then turned on his heel and stalked away without a word. Brutus ignored him, instead watching Tubruk for news of what was happening outside. It was frustrating to be waiting blind, but Brutus understood that soldiers sent by the Senate should not be met with drawn swords. Bloodshed would certainly follow, even if the original errand was an innocent one.
On the top of the wall, Tubruk squinted as the approaching army came closer, marching steadily along the road to the estate. With a deep expulsion of breath, all the tension went out of him in an instant, unseen by those below.
“Marcus Brutus,” he called down, “I request that you have your men open the gate and go out to meet them.”
Brutus looked up at him quizzically. “Are you sure? If they're hostile, we can defend better from within the walls.”
“Open the gates,” Tubruk replied quietly, with a peculiar expression on his face.
Brutus shrugged and gave the order to the men of Primigenia, who drew their swords as they moved forward. His heart pounded and he felt the wild joy that came from his certainty. There was no one alive who could beat him with a blade, not since a day with Renius in the same yard, many years before.
“All right, you old devil, but if I get killed, I'll be waiting for you when it's your time!”
Julius saw the armed men come out of the gates and stiffened. What had happened?
“Ready weapons!” he snapped suddenly and his men lost their cheerful expressions on the instant. What had seemed a victorious return had suddenly become edged with danger. Cabera jumped at the order, scanning the unknown force with a squint. He reached out a hand to catch Julius's attention, but thought better of it and grinned to himself, raising his dagger and gesticulating furiously with it. He was enjoying himself tremendously, but his mood wasn't shared by the soldiers around him. They had been expecting a hero's welcome after too many hard months of travel and killing. Their expressions were savage as their swords came out one more time.
“Line formation!” Julius ordered, seething. If his house had been taken, he would destroy them, leaving nothing alive. His heart twinged for his mother and Tubruk.
He ran a professional eye over the soldiers deploying before the walls. No more than twenty, though they could have others hidden inside. Legionaries. They moved well, but he would trust his Wolves against any other soldiers anywhere, and they had the numbers. He put all thoughts of his family aside and prepared to give the order to charge.
“Sweet Mars! They're going to attack!” Brutus exclaimed as he saw the column swing out into an offensive formation. As he saw the numbers against him, he was tempted to order his men back into safety, but there wouldn't be time to close the gates and the enemy would cut them to pieces as they retreated.
“Secure the gates, Tubruk!” he bellowed. The old fool had completely misjudged the threat and now there was a price to be paid.
To Brutus's pride, the men of Primigenia didn't falter as they understood the fact of their inevitable destruction. They took their positions close to the estate wall and readied weapons, unstrapping javelins to throw as the charge came. Each man carried four of the long spears, and many of the enemy would fall to them before they were close enough for swords.
“Steady…” Brutus called over the heads of his men. Just a few more paces and the advancing lines would be in range.
Without warning, the order to halt rang out and the opposing ranks shuddered to a disciplined stop. Brutus raised his eyebrows in surprise, scanning the faces of the enemy. He caught sight of Julius and suddenly laughed out loud, to the bemusement of those around him.
“Stand down!” he ordered his twenty and watched as they restrapped their javelins and sheathed their swords. When everything was back in place, he marched them toward the halted soldiers, chuckling.
Julius spoke first.
“Have you any idea how close I just came to carving you up?” he asked, grinning.
“I was thinking much the same thing. My men would have dropped a couple of spears through you before you came ten paces closer. Still lucky, I see.”
“I recognized you,” Cabera interjected smugly.
Brutus whooped to see the old man still alive. All three embraced, to the complete confusion of the battle lines surrounding them. Julius broke away first and noticed the three linked arrows on Brutus's breastplate.
“Gods! That's Primigenia, isn't it?”
Brutus nodded, his eyes bright. “I have command, though we're a little understrength at present.”
“How much understrength?”
“By about four thousand men, as it happens, but I am working on it.”
Julius whistled softly. “We have a lot to talk about. Does Tubruk know I'm back?”
Brutus looked over his shoulder at the white walls of the estate. The figure of the estate manager raised an arm in greeting from the top. Cabera waved back enthusiastically.
“Yes, he knows,” Brutus replied, smiling wryly.