The Blood of Gods A Novel of Rome - By Conn Iggulden Page 0,138

the population to know that Brutus and Cassius had assembled a huge army. He would need every legion he had – and perhaps more than he had.

The thought of Rome in the hands of men like Consul Pedius had worried him enough to leave Lepidus behind in the city. His co-triumvir would sit out the conflict in relative safety, but at least Mark Antony would not come home to find he had lost Rome while fighting his enemies. There had been too many surprises since the assassination and he trusted Lepidus to lack the ambition he would need to reach beyond his grasp.

As a result, Mark Antony had been forced to appoint another to command his left wing. He was uncertain as to whether Pontius Fabius was the ablest of his generals, but he was the most senior, with almost twenty-five years of service in every post from senator to legion tribune. Mark Antony noted how, as his new second in command, the man stood subtly apart, and he was not surprised when it was Pontius who spoke for the other legates.

‘The word is that the last ships are in, Triumvir,’ Pontius said. ‘We are expecting to move today.’ He smiled as he spoke, knowing the news had been a long time coming.

Mark Antony raised his eyes briefly to the heavens.

‘I might wonder why that news wasn’t brought over last night, so I could be already on the way. Still, that is good to know.’

With a noble effort, he held back from criticising Octavian, unaware that he actually did so regularly. As a result, almost every man there considered themselves to belong to the main army, with a subsidiary force lagging behind.

‘Are the legions ready to march?’ he asked the assembled group.

They responded with stiff courtesy, nodding. The triumvir was a head taller than all of them and he seemed to have twice the life in his frame, a figure of endless energy. He clapped Pontius on the shoulder as he passed, calling for breakfast and making his servants scurry to provide it.

‘Today is the day then, gentlemen. Come and break your fasts with me. I have a little fresh bread, though don’t ask me where I found it. My factor is a genius or a thief; I have not decided which.’

They smiled at that, taking their places in the command post and accepting cups of water brought fresh from a stream nearby. As the other legates were already seating themselves, Pontius stayed out long enough to pass on the orders. Around that single point, twelve legions began to pack up to leave the coast behind.

‘Send a runner to Caesar when we have finished here,’ Mark Antony called out to his subordinate. ‘I’m heading east this morning. I’ll see him at the first camp.’ He took a cup of water to wash the bread down and idly picked through a plate of boiled vegetables, looking for something worth eating. ‘If he can catch up, of course.’

The men around the table chuckled dutifully, though they were already thinking of the campaign ahead. The problem did not lie in finding the enemy forces. All the reports carried the same information, that the army of Brutus and Cassius had found a good position and had been fortifying it for months. It was every legion commander’s worst scenario – facing quality soldiers on land they had prepared and chosen well in advance. None of them saw any special significance in the name the scouts reported. The town of Philippi may have been named for Philip of Macedon, father to Alexander, but to the stolid Romans sitting and munching that morning, it was just another Greek town. It lay some two hundred and fifty miles to the east and they would reach it in twelve days or less. Like hunting dogs, the march would harden their legs and improve their fitness as they went. They would arrive ready to break the back of anyone who dared to oppose the will of Rome.

Mark Antony’s words were reported back to the legions of Caesar gathered on the coast. Even if Pontius Fabius had not been a cousin of Maecenas, there would have been half a dozen other reports before the day was out, keeping Octavian informed of every detail of his colleague’s movements and intentions. Octavian had found it useful to have a few trusted men around the other two members of the triumvirate, on the advice of Pedius months before. It was not a matter of