Marius walked to where a white bull was held steady by four of his men. A great black-bristled boar was similarly held, but snorted and chafed against the ropes.
Marius accepted a taper and lit the incense in a golden bowl. His men bowed their heads and he stepped forward with his dagger, speaking softly as he cut the two throats.
"Bring us all through war and pestilence, safe home to our city," he said. He wiped the blade on the skin of the bull as it sank to its knees, bawling its fear and pain. Sheathing the dagger, he put an arm around Gaius's shoulder, and together they walked up the wide white steps of the Senate building.
It was the seat of power in all the world. Columns that could not be girdled by three large men holding their arms outstretched supported a sloping roof that was itself mounted with distant statues. Bronze doors that dwarfed even Marius stood closed at the top of the steps. Made of interlocking panels, they looked as if they were designed to stand against an army, but as the pair ascended, the doors opened silently, pulled from within. Marius nodded and Gaius swallowed his awe.
"Come, lad, let us go and meet our masters. It would not do to keep the Senate waiting."
CHAPTER 16
Marcus wondered at the tight expression on Renius's face as they traveled the road to the sea. From dawn until late in the afternoon, they had trotted and walked the stone surface without a word. He was hungry and desperately thirsty, but would not admit it. He had decided at noon that if Renius wanted to do the whole trip to the docks without stopping, then he would not give up first.
Finally, when the smell of dead fish and seaweed soured the clean country air, Renius pulled up and, to his surprise, Marcus noticed the man was pale.
"I want to break off here, to see a friend of mine. You can go on to the docks and get a room there. There's an inn...
"I'm coming with you," Marcus said curtly.
Renius's jaw tightened and he muttered "As you please," before turning off the main road onto a lesser track.
Mystified, Marcus followed him as the track wound through woods for miles. He didn't ask where they were going, just kept his sword loose in his scabbard in case there were bandits hidden in the foliage. Not that a sword would be much use against a bow, he noted.
The sun, where it could be seen at all through the canopy, had dropped down toward the horizon when they rode into a small village. There were no more than twenty small houses, but the place had a well-kept air to it. Chickens were penned and goats tethered outside most dwellings, and Marcus felt no sense of danger. Renius dismounted.
"Are you coming in?" he said as he walked to a door.
Marcus nodded, and tied the two horses to a post. Renius was inside by the time he was done, and he frowned, resting a hand on his dagger as he went in. It was a little dark inside, lit only by a candle and a small fire in the hearth, but Marcus could see Renius hugging an ancient old man with his one good arm.
"This is my brother, Primus. Primus, this is the lad I mentioned, traveling with me to Greece."
The man must have been eighty years old, but he had a firm grip.
"My brother has written about your progress and the other one, Gaius. He doesn't like anyone, but I think he dislikes you two less than most people."
Marcus grunted.
"Take a seat, boy. We have a long night ahead of us." He went over to his small wood fire and placed a long metal poker in its fiery heart.
"What is happening?" Marcus asked.
Renius sighed. "My brother was a surgeon. He is going to take my arm off."
Marcus felt a sick horror come over him as he realized what he was going to see. Guilt too flushed his face. He hoped Renius wouldn't mention how he had been injured. To cover his embarrassment, he spoke quickly. "Lucius or Cabera could have done it, I'm sure."
Renius silenced him with a raised hand.
"Many people could do the job, but Primus was... is the best."
Primus cackled, revealing a mouth with very few teeth. "My little brother used to chop people up and I would stitch them back together," he said cheerfully. "Let us have a light for this." He turned to an oil lamp and lit it from a candle. When he turned back, he squinted at Renius.
"I know my eyes are not what they were, but did you dye your hair?"
Renius flushed. "I do not want to be told your eyes are failing before you start cutting me, Primus. I am aging well, that is all."
"Damned well," Primus agreed. He emptied a leather satchel of tools onto a table surface and gestured to his brother to sit down. Looking at the saws and needles, Marcus wished he had taken the advice and gone on to the docks, but it was too late. Renius sat and sweat dripped from his forehead. Primus gave him a bottle of brown liquid and he raised it, taking great swallows.
"You, boy, get that rope and tie him to the chair. I don't want him thrashing around and breaking my furniture."
Feeling sick, Marcus took the lengths of rope, noting with a quiet horror that they were all stained with ancient blood. He busied himself with the knots and tried not to think about it.
After a few minutes, Renius was immobile and Primus poured the last of the brown liquid into his throat.
"That's all I have, I'm afraid. It will take the edge off, but not much."
"Just get on with it," Renius growled through clenched teeth.
Primus raised a thick piece of leather to his mouth and told him to bite it. "It will save your teeth, at least."
He turned to Marcus. "You hold the arm still. It will make the sawing quicker." He placed Marcus's hands on the corded bicep and checked that the ropes held the wrist and elbow securely. He slid a vicious-looking blade from his pack and held it up to the light, squinting at the edge.
"I will cut a circle around the bone, then another below it to give the saw room. We will take out a ring of flesh, saw the bone, and cauterize the leaks. It must be fast, or he will bleed to death. I will leave enough skin to fold over the stump, then it must be bound securely. He must not touch it for the first week, then, each morning and night, he should rub in an ointment I will give you. I have no leather cup for the stump; you will have to make or buy one yourself."
Marcus swallowed nervously.
Primus plunged his fingers into the muscles and nerves of the useless arm, feeling around. After a minute, he tutted to himself, his face sad.
"It is as you said. There is no feeling at all. The muscles are cut and beginning to waste. Was it a fight?"
Involuntarily, Marcus glanced up at Renius. The eyes above the bared teeth were manic and he looked away. "A training accident," he said softly, his voice muffled by the leather piece.
Primus nodded and pressed the blade to the skin. Renius tensed and Marcus gripped the arm.
With deft, sure strokes, Primus cut deep, stopping only to dab at the wound with a piece of cloth to remove obscuring gouts of blood. Marcus felt his stomach heave, but Renius's brother seemed completely relaxed, blowing air between his teeth in something close to a little tune. White bone sheathed in a pink curtain appeared, and Primus grunted in satisfaction. After only a few seconds, he had reached the bone all the way around and begun the second cut.
Renius looked down at the gory hands of his brother, and his lip curled into a bitter grimace. After that, he stared at the wall, his jaw clenched. A slight tremble of his breathing was the only sign of his fear.
Blood spilled over Marcus's hands, the chair, the floor, everything. There were lakes of it inside Renius and it was all coming out, shining and wet. The second ring was gouged out, leaving great flaps of hanging skin. Primus notched and sliced, removing the dark lumps of meat and dropping them carelessly on the floor.
"Don't worry about the mess. I have two dogs that will love this when I let them in."
Marcus turned his head away and vomited helplessly. Primus tutted and rearranged the hands that held the arm. A white spike of bone was visible a hand's breadth up from the elbow.
Renius had begun to breathe in hard blasts from his
nose, and Primus pressed a hand against his brother's neck, feeling for the pulse.
"I'll be as quick as I can," he muttered.
Renius nodded, unblinking.
Primus stood up and wiped his hands on a cloth. He looked his brother in the eyes and grimaced at what he found there.
"This is the hard part. You will feel the pain when I cut the bone, and the vibration is very unpleasant. I will be as fast as I can. Hold him very still. For two minutes, you must be like a rock. No more of this puking, understand?"
Marcus took deep breaths, miserably, and Primus brought out a thin-bladed saw, set in a wooden handle like a kitchen knife.
"Ready?"
They both muttered assent and Primus set the blade and began to cut, his elbow moving back and forth almost in a blur.
Renius went rigid and his whole body rose against the ropes holding him. Marcus gripped as if his life depended on it, and winced whenever the blood made his fingers slip and the saw snagged.
Without warning, the arm came free, leaning sideways and away from Renius. Renius looked down at it and grunted in anger. Primus wiped his hands and pressed a wad of cloth into the wound. He gestured to Marcus to hold it in place and fetched the iron bar that had been heating in the fire. The tip glowed and Marcus winced in anticipation.
When the cloth was removed, Primus worked quickly, stabbing the tip into every spot of welling blood. Each contact sizzled and the stench was horrible. Marcus dry-heaved onto the floor, a line of sticky yellow bile connecting him with it.
"Put this back in the fire, quickly. I will hold the cloth while it heats again."
Marcus staggered upright and took the bar, jamming it back into the flames. Renius's head lolled on his shoulders and the leather strip fell from his slack mouth.
Primus kept holding the cloth, then removing it to watch the blood come. He swore viciously.
"I've missed half the pipes at least. Used to be, I could hit each one with one go, but I haven't done this in a few years. It has to be done right, or the wound will poison itself. Is the iron ready yet?"
Marcus withdrew it, but the point was still black. "No. Will he be all right?"
"Not if I can't seal the wound, no. Get outside and fetch some wood to build up the fire."
Marcus was thankful for the excuse and left quickly, taking great gulps of sweet air as he stood outside. It was almost dark—gods, how long had they been in there? He noticed a couple of large hounds tied to a wall around the side, asleep. He shuddered and gathered heavy chunks of wood from the pile near them. They woke at his approach and growled softly, but didn't get up. Without looking at them, he went back inside, dumping two billets onto the flames.
"Bring me the iron as soon as the tip is red," Primus muttered, pressing the wad of cloth hard against the stump.
Marcus avoided looking at the detached arm. It seemed wrong, away from a body, and his stomach heaved in a series of quick spasms before he had the sense to gaze back at the flames.
Once more the bar had to be reheated before Primus was finally satisfied. Marcus knew he would never be able to forget the fsss sound of the burning and repressed a shudder as he helped bind the stump in clean cloth bandages. Together, they lifted Renius onto a pallet bed in another room, and Marcus sat on the edge, wiping the sweat out of his eyes, thankful it was over.
"What happens to... that?" He gestured toward the arm that was still tied to the chair.
Primus shrugged. "Doesn't seem right to give the whole thing to my dogs. I'll probably bury it somewhere in the woods. It would only rot and smell if I didn't, but a lot of men ask for them. There are so many memories wrapped up in a hand. I mean, those fingers have held women and patted children. It is a lot to lose, but my brother is strong. I hope strong enough even for this."
"Our ship leaves in four days, on the best tide," Marcus said weakly.
Primus scratched his chin. "He can sit a horse. He will be weak for a few days, but he's as strong as a bull. The problems will be with balance. He will have to retrain, almost from scratch. How long is the sea trip?"
"A month, with good winds," Marcus replied.
"Use the time. Practice with him every day. Of all men, my brother will not enjoy being less than capable."
CHAPTER 17
Marius paused at the inner doors of the Senate chamber.
"You are not allowed to enter until you are officially accepted as a citizen, and then only as my guest for the day. I will propose you and make a short speech on your behalf. It is a formality. Wait until I return and show you where you may sit."
Gaius nodded calmly and stood back as Marius rapped on the doors and walked through them as they opened. He was left alone in the outer chamber and paced up and down it for a while.
After twenty minutes, he began to fret at the delay and wandered over to the open outer doors, looking down onto the massed soldiers in the forum. They were an impressive sight, standing rigidly to attention despite the heat of the day. From the height of the Senate doors and with the open plaza ahead of him, Gaius had a good view of the bustling city beyond. He was lost in his inspection of this when he heard the creak of hinges from the inner doors and Marius stepped out.
"Welcome to the nobilitas, Gaius. You are a citizen of Rome and your father would be proud. Sit next to me and listen to the matters of the day. You will find them interesting, I suspect."
Gaius followed and met the eyes of the senators as they watched him enter. One or two nodded to him and he wondered if they had known his father, memorizing faces in case he had a chance to speak to them later on. He glanced around the hall, trying not to stare. The world listened to what these few had to say.
The arrangement was very like the circus in miniature, he thought as he took the seat Marius indicated. Five stepped tiers of seating curled around a central space where one speaker at a time could address the others. Gaius remembered from his tutors that the rostrum was made from the prow of a Carthaginian warship, and was fascinated to imagine its history.
The seats were built into the curving rows, with dark wooden arms protruding where they were not obscured by seated men. Everyone wore white togas and sandals and the effect was of a working room, a place that crackled with energy. Most of the men had white hair, but a few were young and physically commanding. Several of the senators were standing, and he guessed this was to show they wanted to raise a point or add to the debate at hand. Sulla himself stood at the center of it all, talking about taxation and corn. He smiled at Gaius when he saw the young man looking over at him, and Gaius felt the power of it. Here was another like Marius, he judged on the instant, but was there room in Rome for two of that kind? Sulla looked as he had when Gaius had seen him at the games. He was dressed in a simple white toga, belted with a band of red. His hair was oiled and gleamed in dark gold curls. He glowed with health and vitality and seemed completely relaxed. As Gaius took his seat next to his uncle, Sulla coughed into his hand delicately.
"I think, given the more serious business of the day, that this taxation debate can be postponed until next week. Are there any objections?" Those who were standing sat down, looking unperturbed. Sulla smiled again, revealing even, white teeth.
"I welcome the new citizen and offer the hope of the Senate that he will serve the city as well as his father did." There was a murmur of approval and Gaius dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment.
"However, our formal welcome must also be put aside for the moment. I have received grave news of a threat to the city this very morning." He paused and waited patiently for the senators to stop talking. "To the east, a Greek general, Mithridates, has overrun a garrison of ours in Asia Minor. He may have as many as eight thousand men in rebellion. They have apparently become aware of the overstretched state of our current fighting forces and are gambling on our being too weak to regain the territory. However, if we do not act to repel him, we risk his army growing in strength and threatening the security of our Greek possessions."
S
everal senators rose to their feet, and shouted arguments began on the benches. Sulla held his hands up for quiet.
"A decision must be made here. The legions already in Greece are committed to controlling the unstable borders. They do not have the men to break this new threat. We cannot leave the city defenseless, especially after the most recent riots, but it is of equal importance that we send a legion to meet the man in the field. Greece is watching to see how we will respond—it must be with speed and fury."
Heads nodded in violent agreement. Rome had not been built on caution and compromise. Gaius looked at Marius in sudden thought. The general sat with his hands clenched in front of him, and his face was tight and cold.
"Marius and I command a legion each. We are months closer than any other from the north. The decision I put to the vote is which of the two should take ship to meet the enemy army."
He flashed a look at Marius, and for the first time, Gaius could see the bright malice in his eyes. Marius rose to his feet and the chamber hushed. Those standing sat to allow the first response to the other consul. Marius put his hands behind his back and Gaius could see the whiteness of his knuckles.
"I find no fault with Sulla's proposed course of action. The situation is clear: Our forces must be split to defend Rome and our foreign dominions. I must ask him whether he will volunteer to be the one to banish the invader."
All eyes turned to Sulla.
"I will trust the judgment of the Senate on this. I am a servant of Rome. My personal wishes do not come into it."
Marius smiled tightly and the tension could be felt in the air between them.
"I concur," Marius said clearly, and took his seat.
Sulla looked relieved and cast his gaze around the vaulted room.
"Then it is a simple choice. I will say the name of each legion, and those who believe that is the one to fight Mithridates will stand up and be counted. The rest will stand when they hear the second name. No man may abstain in such a vote on the security of the city. Are we all agreed?"