The Emperor Series Books 1-5. Conn Iggulden

him.

      ‘Had a bit too much to drink, have you?’ one of them grated as they closed.

      Brutus drew his gladius in one smooth movement. It glittered, the blade etched like the greave with swirling designs that caught the light. Both men paused, suddenly uncertain.

      ‘Servilia!’ Brutus yelled at the top of his voice, keeping the sword levelled at the men. They drew daggers from their belt sheaths and advanced slowly.

      ‘You cocky little bugger!’ one said, waving his blade. ‘Think you can come in here and do what you like? I never got the chance to kill an officer before, but I’m going to enjoy this.’

      Brutus stiffened.

      ‘Stand to attention, you ignorant bastards,’ he snapped at them. ‘If I see a blade pointing my way, I will have you hanged.’

      The two men hesitated as he glared at them, responding to the tone almost as a reflex. Brutus took a furious step towards them.

      ‘You tell me how men of your age have left their legion to guard a whorehouse. Deserters?’

      ‘No … sir. We served with Primigenia.’

      Brutus held his face stiff to mask his surprise and delight.

      ‘Under Marius?’ he demanded.

      The older of the pair nodded. By now, they were standing erect before him and Brutus looked them up and down as if it was an inspection.

      ‘If I had time, I would show you the letter he wrote to send me to my century in Greece. I marched with him to the steps of the senate house to demand his Triumph. Do not shame his memory.’

      The two men blinked in discomfort as Brutus spoke. He let the silence stretch for a moment.

      ‘Now, I have business with a woman named Servilia. You can fetch her to me, or take me to her, but you will act like soldiers while I’m here, understood?’

      As the two men nodded, a door slammed open at the end of the corridor and a female voice snapped out.

      ‘Stand away from him and give me a clear line of sight.’

      The two guards didn’t move, their eyes locked on the young centurion. The tension showed in their shoulders, but they remained still.

      Brutus spoke clearly to them. ‘Is this the one?’

      The older man was sweating with strain. ‘She is the lady of the house,’ he confirmed.

      ‘Then do as she tells you, gentlemen.’

      Without another word, the two guards stepped aside to reveal a woman sighting down the length of an arrow at Brutus.

      ‘Are you Servilia?’ he said, noting the slight shake of her arms as they began to tire.

      ‘The name you have been yelling like a street brat selling fish? I own this house.’

      ‘I am no danger to you,’ Brutus replied. ‘And I’d ease off on that bow before you shoot someone by accident.’

      Servilia glanced at her guards and seemed to find comfort in their presence. With a release of breath, she unbent the bow, though Brutus saw she held it so it could be quickly drawn and fired if he rushed at her. She had known the threats of soldiers before, he guessed.

      The woman Brutus saw there was nothing like the one from the room of statues. She was as tall and slim as he was, with long dark hair that hung loose about her shoulders. Her skin glowed with sun and health and her face was not beautiful, in fact was almost ugly, but the wide mouth and dark eyes had a knowing sensuality that he thought would ensnare many men. Her hands were wide and strong on the bow and gold bangles chimed on her wrists as she moved.

      He took in every detail of her and felt pain as he recognised a touch of himself in the line of her perfect throat.

      ‘You don’t know me,’ he said quietly.

      ‘What did you say?’ she said, coming closer. ‘You disrupt my home and carry a blade into my rooms. I should have you whipped raw, and do not think your pretty rank will save you.’

      She walked superbly, he thought. He had seen that sort of sexual confidence in a woman only once before, at the temple of Vesta, where the virgins moved with insolence in every stride, knowing it was death to any man who touched them. She had something of that and he felt himself becoming aroused, sickened by it, but not knowing how to feel like a son. Blood rushed into his face and neck and she smiled sensually, showing sharp white teeth.

      ‘I thought you would look older,’ he murmured and a look of irritation came into her eyes.

      ‘I look how I look. I still don’t know you.’

      Brutus sheathed his sword. He wanted to say who he was and have shock break through her confidence, to see her eyes widen in amazement as she realised what an impressive young man he was.

      Then it all seemed worthless. A long-suppressed memory came to him of overhearing Julius’ father talking about her and he sighed to have it confirmed. He was in a whorehouse, regardless of how rich it seemed. It didn’t really matter what she thought of him.

      ‘My name is Marcus. I am your son,’ he said, shrugging.

      She froze as still as one of her statues. For a long moment, she held his gaze, then her eyes filled with tears and she dropped the bow with a clatter and ran back down the corridor, slamming the door behind her with a force that shook the walls.

      The guard was looking at Brutus with his mouth open.

      ‘Is that true, sir?’ he said, gruffly. Brutus nodded and the man flushed with embarrassment. ‘We didn’t know.’

      ‘I didn’t tell you. Look, I’m going to leave now. Is anyone waiting to put a bolt in me as I go through the door?’

      The guard relaxed slightly. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Me and the lad are the only guards. She doesn’t need them, as a rule.’

      Brutus turned to leave and the guard spoke again.

      ‘Sulla had Primigenia cut off the rolls in the Senate. We had to take what work we could find.’

      Brutus turned back to him, wishing he had more to offer.

      ‘I know where you are now. I can find you again if I need you,’ he said. The guard stretched out his hand and Brutus took it in the legionary grip.

      On his way out, Brutus passed through the room with the pool, thankful to find it empty. He paused only to collect his helmet and splash a little of the water on his face and neck. It didn’t help cool his confusion. He felt dazed by events and desperately wanted to find somewhere quiet where he could think through what had happened. The thought of struggling in the busy crowds was an irritation, but he would have to get back to the estate. He had no other home.

      At the gate, a slave came running towards him. He almost drew his sword again at the footsteps, but the slave was another young girl, unarmed. She panted as she reached him and he noticed the rise and fall of her chest almost absently. Another beauty. It seemed the house was full of them.

      ‘The mistress told me you should return here tomorrow morning. She will see you then.’

      Inexplicably, Brutus felt his spirits lift at the words.

      ‘I will be here,’ he said.

      The pattern along the coast suggested the next settlement would be further than the soldiers could march in a day. They made better time when they crossed the tracks of heavy animals and could follow them until they turned away from the coast. Julius was unwilling to travel too far from the sound of crashing surf for fear of getting completely lost. When they turned off a trail, it was hard, sweaty work to cut their way through stalks and thornbushes as high as a man’s head and tipped with red thorns as if already marked in blood. Away from the sea, the air was thick with moisture and stinging insects plagued them all, rising unseen from the heavy leaves as the Romans