Street fighter

8

Later that evening, after Crassus had left the house under the protection of every man that Caesar could spare, Marcus went to the benches in the corner of the garden to think. He was deeply frustrated by his situation, and Crassus’s impromptu visit had reminded him he was failing in his goal to free his mother. Once he had thought his quest would be over the moment he reached Rome. He just had to find General Pompeius’s house and explain what had happened, and it would all be sorted out. He and his mother would be freed and Decimus punished. But now? He was no closer to finding a way to put his case to Pompeius. Worse still, Decimus was a friend of Crassus, and Crassus was an ally of Caesar and Pompeius. He realized he’d been stupid and naive. This world was far more complicated than he’d thought — how could he ever hope to use it to his advantage? He let out a bitter sigh and cursed the fates that had brought him so close to the end of his quest, only to withhold the final prize.

‘I thought I saw you come in here.’

He looked up and saw Portia standing in the gap in the hedge that screened the benches. She smiled at him and came and sat down. ‘We haven’t spoken for days. I had begun to wonder if you were avoiding me.’

‘Festus has kept me busy,’ Marcus explained. ‘He wants me ready to protect you as soon as possible. There’s been no let-up. Now I see why.’

‘That attack on Crassus, you mean?’

Marcus nodded. ‘If that can happen to a man so powerful, then it can happen to anyone. I had no idea the mob could be so dangerous. Crassus said it looked like a trap.’

Portia nodded. ‘I was in the library. It’s separated from Uncle’s study by a curtain, so I heard him and Uncle Gaius talking. At first I meant to creep out and leave them to it. But then I decided to stay and listen. Uncle rarely tells me much about his plans, so I couldn’t resist eavesdropping. I don’t see why I should be treated like a child. I’m old enough to under-stand what is going on.’ She frowned. ‘Just because I am a girl they treat me like a fool. Something to be patted on the head and kept amused while a suitable husband is found for me. All I want is a bit of freedom to make my own choices. It’s not fair. .’

Marcus saw her lip begin to tremble and felt a pang of sympathy for Portia. They were alike in more ways than he had thought.

She bit her lip and forced a smile. ‘You remember the trouble over the law that Uncle Gaius is trying to pass? The one to provide land for Pompeius’s veterans?’

‘I could hardly forget.’ Marcus recalled the confrontation between Bibulus and Caesar, and the excrement on the head of the unfortunate Bibulus. He could not help smiling at the memory. ‘A messy business, for the other consul.’

Portia laughed briefly. ‘Well, apparently, after that Bibulus went back to his house and has refused to come out since. He issued a proclamation that it isn’t safe for a consul to be seen in public while Caesar’s thugs rule the streets. He’s also said that he will refuse to recognize any laws passed in his absence — which makes no difference to my uncle. He’s carried on with things at the Senate House without Bibulus, even though Cato’s done everything to throw obstacles in the way. But that’s not all. There have been attacks on several senators who support Uncle, just like what happened to Crassus. He thinks there’s more to this than the usual clashes between supporters of the political factions.’

Portia’s information was interesting. It was difficult for Marcus to piece together the events of Caesar’s world, and he nodded thoughtfully as he recalled his earlier conversations with his master. Caesar had known he would be facing dangerous opponents, men prepared to use violence to get their way. So far it seemed Caesar had been restrained, but Marcus knew his master would be forced to match the tactics of his enemies, if only to preserve his own life and that of his family.

Marcus looked up at Portia. ‘Sounds as if Cato and his friends have been stirring up the mob.’

‘That’s what Uncle thinks. He’s heard someone is spreading a rumour that he has a secret plan to take control of Rome together with General Pompeius and Crassus.’

‘That’s the kind of rumour you’d expect his enemies to put about.’

Portia’s eyes widened as she leaned closer to Marcus. ‘That’s just it. There actually is a secret plan. I heard Uncle and Crassus talking about it. Until a few months ago Pompeius and Crassus were bitter enemies. Then Uncle persuaded them they could have more power if they worked together instead of obstructing each other. He reminded Crassus of it this evening. In exchange for supporting each other in the Senate they’ll each have command of a big army and a chance to win more glory and loot.’

‘Loot?’ Marcus asked, even though he knew the answer

‘The usual kind. Gold, silver and slaves.’

Slaves, he reflected bitterly. Even more misery to add to that endured by the millions Rome already kept in bondage. The idea sickened him. Much as he’d come to admire his master, Marcus reminded himself that Caesar was Roman to the core and would always be an enemy of all that Spartacus stood for.

‘Anyway,’ Portia continued, ‘that’s not the most interesting part. Uncle Gaius and Crassus were planning the best way to make sure their deal with Pompeius continues to work. Uncle suggested it might be best to bind Pompeius more closely to him by arranging another marriage.’ Portia paused and her expression darkened. ‘My uncle is going to suggest to Pompeius that I should marry his nephew to cement their arrangement. .’

‘Married? You?’ Marcus stared at her in shock. ‘But you’re only thirteen, just two years older than me.’

‘I’m nearly fourteen,’ Portia replied dejectedly. ‘More than old enough to be offered in marriage. Many girls are married at my age, some even younger. That is the way in Rome. Sometimes it’s for love, but mostly to create alliances between families with influence.’

Marcus digested the news with a sense of distaste. What was marriage without affection, he wondered. He remembered his mother and Titus. Despite the way they had first met there was genuine fondness between them, until the end. As Portia’s news sank in he felt a pang of despair at the thought of losing his friend so soon.

‘How do you feel about being married?’ Marcus asked.

Portia clasped her fingers together as she considered her reply. ‘I’m not really sure. It’s so sudden. Uncle never mentioned the possibility to me. I always knew that I would be married one day and forced to leave my family and home behind. I just hoped I’d be lucky enough to marry someone I liked.’ She was silent for a moment before she continued bravely. ‘I suppose I should consider it an honour to marry into a family as famous as Pompeius’s.’

Marcus watched her face as she contemplated the possibility and saw the sadness in her eyes. He shared her mood. He would miss her. Then a further thought struck him. If Portia married Pompeius’s nephew, maybe she could use her influence to allow Marcus to put his case before Titus’s former commander. Before he could think this through, Portia spoke again.

‘There is a problem, though,’ she said. ‘Crassus is not keen on the idea. He told Uncle Gaius that I should marry a relative of his as a way of repaying him for all the money Uncle has borrowed.’

Marcus’s brain was whirring. He needed to think. If Caesar was indebted to Crassus and Crassus was in league with Decimus, what did that mean, for Caesar, and for Marcus? ‘What did your uncle say to that?’ Marcus asked her.

‘He said he knew how much he was indebted to Crassus, and that he’d always be his loyal friend. But Pompeius does not share that bond, and it would be useful to make sure he didn’t break away from their secret alliance. Crassus didn’t sound convinced.’ She frowned briefly and they both sat silent again. Marcus thought how both their lives were at the mercy of the ambitious manoeuvring of supposedly ‘great’ men. And for whose benefit? Then Portia sighed and her forced smile returned. ‘There’s no use moping. I suppose I should be pleased at the idea.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’ He forced a smile in return.

Her forehead creased into a faint frown. ‘The news saddens you too?’

‘Yes. . Yes, it does,’ he replied truthfully. ‘You’re the first friendly face I have known for a long time. I had looked forward to being your protector. That won’t be possible now.’

‘Maybe it will be. Perhaps I can take you with me if I marry. I’ll ask Uncle to sell you to Pompeius.’

Marcus winced at her words. Sold again. Like a mule. At least it would take him closer to Pompeius, he supposed.

Portia continued in a flat tone. ‘Anyway, it’ll take a while to make any arrangement, so there’s time to sort something out. I promise I’ll do what I can to persuade Uncle to let you remain at my side.’ She yawned and patted her mouth. ‘I’m tired. It’s been a long day and I need to sleep. I just wanted to share the news with you first, Marcus.’

She stood up and Marcus followed suit.

‘Goodnight then,’ she said.

Marcus bowed his head. ‘Goodnight, mistress.’

He watched as she made her way out of the enclosed area and the sound of her footsteps faded away along the garden path.