stretching into the distance, the orderly lines showing the discipline of the men and their general. Marius had spent most of the month mapping out a six-mile route along the streets that ended, as before, at the Senate steps. The filth had been scrubbed from the stones of the roads, but they were still narrow, winding courses and the legion could get only six men or three horses across. There were going to be just under eleven hundred rows of soldiers, horses and equipment. After a lot of argument with his engineers, Marius had agreed to leave his siege weapons at the camp – there was just no way to get them around the tight corners. The estimate was that it would take three hours to complete the march and that was without hold-ups or mistakes of any kind.
By the time Gaius had washed, dressed and eaten, the sun was clear of the horizon and the great shining mass of soldiers was in position and almost ready to march. Gaius had been told to dress in a full toga and sandals and to leave his weapons in the camp. After so long carrying a legionary's tools, he felt a little defenceless without them, but obeyed.
Marius himself would be riding on a throne set atop a flat open carriage, pulled by a team of six horses. He would wear a purple toga, a colour that could only be worn by a general at the head of a Triumph. The dye was incredibly expensive, gathered from rare seashells and distilled. It was a garment to wear only once, and the colour of the ancient kings of Rome.
As he passed under the city gates, a slave would raise a gilded laurel wreath above his head and hold it there for the rest of the journey. Four words had to be whispered throughout the Triumph, cheerfully ignored by Marius: ‘Remember thou art mortal.’
The carriage had been put together by the legion engineers, made to fit perfectly between the street stepping stones. The heavy wooden wheels were shod with an iron band and the axles freshly greased. The main body had been gilded and shone in the morning sun as if made of pure gold.
As Gaius approached, the general was inspecting his troops, his expression serious. He spoke to many of the men and they answered him without moving their gaze from the middle distance.
At last, the general seemed satisfied and climbed up onto the carriage.
‘The people of our city will not forget this day. The sight of you will inspire the children to join the forces that keep us all safe. Foreign ambassadors will watch us and be cautious in their dealings with Rome, with the vision of our ranks always in their minds. Merchants will watch us and know there is something more in the world than making money. Women will watch us and compare their little husbands to the best of Rome! See your reflections in the eyes as we pass. You will give the people something more than bread and coin today; you will give them glory.’
The men cheered at the last and Gaius found himself cheering as well. He walked to the throned carriage and Marius saw him.
‘Where shall I stand, Uncle?’ he asked.
‘Up here, lad. Stand at my right shoulder, so that they will know you are beloved of my house.’
Gaius grinned and clambered on, taking position. He could see into the far distance from his new height and felt a thrill of anticipation.
Marius dropped his arm and horns sounded, echoing down the line to the far back. The legionaries took their first step on the hard-packed soil.
On each side of the great gold carriage, Gaius recognised faces from the first bloody trip to the Senate. Even on a day of rejoicing, Marius had his hand-picked men with him. Only a fool would risk a thrown knife with the legion in the streets; they would destroy the city in rage – but Marius had warned his men that there were always fools, and there were no smiles in the ranks.
‘To be alive on such a day is a precious gift of the gods,’ Marius said, his voice carrying.
Gaius nodded and rested his hand on the throne.
‘There are six hundred thousand people in the city and not one of them will be tending his business today. They have already begun lining the streets and buying seats at windows to cheer us through. The roads are strewn with fresh rushes, a carpet for us to walk on for each step of the six miles. Only the forum is being kept clear so that we can halt the whole five thousand in one block there. I shall sacrifice a bull to Jupiter and a boar to Minerva and then you and I, Gaius, we will walk into the Senate to attend our first vote.’
‘What is the vote about?’ Gaius asked.
Marius laughed. ‘A simple matter of officially accepting you into the ranks of the nobilitas and adulthood. In truth, it is only a formality. You have the right through your father, or, indeed, my sponsorship would do it. Remember, this city was built and is maintained on talent. There are the old houses, the pure-bloods; Sulla himself is from one such. But other men are there because they have dragged themselves up to power, as I have. We respect strength and cherish what is good for the city, regardless of the parentage.’
‘Are your supporters from the new men?’ Gaius asked.
Marius shook his head. ‘Strangely enough, no. They are often too wary of being seen to side with one of their own. Many of them support Sulla, but those who follow me are as often high-born as they are new wolves in the fold. The people's tribunes make a great show of being untouched by politics and take each vote as they find it, although they can always be depended on to vote for cheaper corn or more rights for the slaves. With their veto, they can never be ignored.’
‘Could they prevent my acceptance then?’
Marius chuckled. ‘Take off the worried look. They do not vote in internal matters, such as new members, only in city policy. Even if they did, it would be a brave man to vote against me with my legion standing thousands deep in the forum outside. Sulla and I are consuls – the supreme commanders of all the military might of Rome. We lead the Senate, not the other way around.’ He smiled complacently and called for wine, having the full cup handed to him.
‘What happens if you disagree with the Senate, or with Sulla?’ Gaius asked.
Marius snorted into his wine cup.
‘All too common. The people elect the Senate to make and enforce the laws – and to build the empire. They also elect the other, more senior posts: aediles, praetors and consuls. Sulla and I are here because the people voted for us and the Senate do not forget that. If we disagree, a consul may forbid any piece of legislation and its passage stops immediately. Sulla or I have only to say, “Veto” – I forbid it – as the speeches begin and that is the end for that year. We can also block each other in this way, although that does not happen often.’
‘But how does the Senate control the consuls?’ Gaius pressed, interested.
Marius took a deep draught of the wine and patted his stomach, smiling.
‘They could vote against me, even remove me from office in theory. In practice, my supporters and clients would prevent any such vote going through, so for the whole year, a consul is almost untouchable in power.’
‘You said a consul was only elected for one year and has to step down,’ Gaius said.
‘The law bends for strong men, Gaius. Each year, the Senate clamours for an exception to be made and I should be re-elected. I am good for Rome, you see – and they know it.’
Gaius felt pleased at the quiet conversation, or as quiet as the general ever managed, at least. He understood why his father had been wary of the man. Marius was like summer lightning – it was impossible to tell what he would strike next – but he had the city in the palm of his hand for the moment and Gaius had discovered that was where he too wanted to be: at the centre of things.
They could hear the roar of Rome long before they reached the gates. The sound was like the sea, a formless, crashing wave that engulfed them as they halted at the border tower. City guards approached the golden carriage and Marius stood to receive them. They too were polished and perfectly turned out and they had a formal air.
‘Give your name and state your business,’ one said.
‘Marius, general of the First-Born. I am here. I will hold a Triumph on the streets of Rome.’