The Blood of Gods A Novel of Rome - By Conn Iggulden Page 0,117
memory. Twelve legions had camped on every piece of spare ground for miles around the central town, a gathering large enough to ruin the economy for years as they commandeered everything useful from the region, from horses and food to iron, bronze and leather.
‘I’m to have dinner tonight with Buccio and Liburnius,’ Mark Antony said, smiling wryly. ‘I think the legates would like to make amends for the small matter of mutinying under my command.’
He chuckled at the thought, amused at how fate had swung them apart and then together again. The movements of the Republic made a mockery of all his plans. A year before, he could not have imagined standing on those sea cliffs with the Senate in hand and an alliance with a young man he had barely remembered. His mood darkened as he realised Julius had been alive at that time. No one could have predicted the events after the assassination. Mark Antony only counted himself lucky that he had survived and risen, no matter who else had risen with him.
‘They seem to have the ear of Caesar,’ Lepidus said. ‘Perhaps you should question them about crossing the sea to Greece. How long can we stay here without ships?’
‘As long as we must, to keep Rome safe from invasion,’ Mark Antony replied uncomfortably. He did not enjoy hearing the name of Caesar used for Octavian, but it was becoming a hard reality and he assumed it would jar less and less in time. ‘But I agree, it is not enough to stay here and wait. I can wish for a new fleet, but then I might as well wish for the men to be given wings. I do not know all his plans, Lepidus. As it is, we are the block that prevents Brutus or Cassius landing on this coast. While we remain in such strength, they too cannot cross by sea. Who would have thought that galleys would ever be so important? The future of Rome rests on fleets, while legions remain idle.’
‘Then we should build new ships,’ Lepidus said irritably. ‘Yet whenever I ask, that friend of his, Maecenas, tells me I shouldn’t concern myself. Have you broached the subject with Caesar? I would be happier if I knew we were at least beginning the task. I don’t want to spend years on this coast waiting to be attacked.’
Mark Antony grinned to himself, turning away to hide his amusement. He had only arrived from Rome the day before, while Lepidus had been stationed at Brundisium for almost three months. Mark Antony was satisfied with the way the triumvirate was working, though he could appreciate Lepidus might not feel the same. It would not be useful to remind the man he had only been included to give Mark Antony a casting vote in any disagreement. Apart from that, he was not concerned with what Lepidus thought.
The wind gusted around them as they walked the cliffs, looking down to the dark blue sea. Both men felt the energy of it raising their spirits as their togas whipped and fluttered. Even from such a height, Mark Antony could not see Greece in the distance, though he imagined Brutus and Cassius there. The vagaries of fate had thrown him onto this shore and Rome would remember only the victors when it was done.
As he stared out over the vastness of the white-capped ocean, Mark Antony felt his attention dragged towards movement on his right side. He turned his head and froze, his good mood curdling like old milk in his stomach.
‘By the gods, do you see that?’ Lepidus said a moment later.
Mark Antony nodded. Around the bay, a host of galleys rowed into view, sleek and fast and dangerous. Many of them had broken stubs where fine oars had been before and, to his experienced eye, the ships looked battered. Yet they kept coming and his heart sank further.
‘Sixty … no, eighty …’ Lepidus was muttering.
There were at least a hundred galleys, fully half the fleet Sextus Pompey led. Mark Antony found himself making the horned hand instinctively. It was more than enough to blockade the east coast of Italy, preventing even the small boats that carried messages and kept trade alive.
‘It seems Sextus Pompey has heard about our legions gathering here,’ Mark Antony said. ‘By Jupiter, what I wouldn’t give for a fleet! I’ll send a rider to Rome, but we cannot cross now, even if Octavian found me a dozen ships tomorrow.’