The Blood of Gods A Novel of Rome - By Conn Iggulden Page 0,44

heard his legacy from Caesar, he had hardly stopped moving. He’d visited three different homes in the city, complete with slaves and staff, all of whom were now his. It was dizzying. He had come into Rome with nothing, but it was somehow fitting that Caesar’s will had been the agent of his change in fortune. Alive, Caesar had been unpredictable, given to ignoring laws and rules as he saw the fastest way to achieve his objectives. Octavian had learned from him. If he hesitated, those who might oppose him would have time to gather their strength.

It was strange to see the consul’s property pristine and untouched. On the streets nearby, Octavian had passed through great swathes of rubble and ash, seeing views of the seven hills that had not existed for a century or more. There were already builders and sweating workmen in those places, paid by the wealthy owners. The vistas created by destruction would not last long. Yet Mark Antony’s homes remained, his reward for firing the emotions of the city.

‘Maecenas and I both think this is a terrible idea,’ Agrippa said, as they strode up the hill.

Gracchus was with the three men, in the main because he had made himself useful all day. His motive for sudden loyalty was obvious and Maecenas baited him at every opportunity, but another sword was undeniably useful and Octavian had not sent him away.

Octavian did not reply and the four of them reached the massive oak door set into the wall that ran alongside the cobbled street. There was a small iron grille and Agrippa bent down to peer through it, raising his eyebrows at the courtyard within. It was chaotic, with more than a dozen slaves running to and fro, loading a carriage and bringing draught horses into position.

‘It seems we have chosen a busy time for the consul,’ he said. ‘There is no need to do this, Octavian.’

‘I say there is. And you will have to get used to the new name. I have the right to it, by blood and adoption.’

Agrippa shrugged.

‘I will try to remember, Julius. Gods, it doesn’t sit well to call you that.’

‘It will get easier. Use makes master, my friend.’

In the courtyard, one of the scurrying slaves had noticed the big man peering in and approached them, making waving motions with his hands.

‘Whatever you want, the consul is not available,’ he said. ‘If it is official business, see your senator.’

‘Tell him Caesar is here,’ Octavian said. ‘I think he will come out for me.’

The slave’s eyes widened.

‘Yes, sir. I will let him know.’ The man trotted away, looking back over his shoulder every few paces until he had disappeared into the main house.

‘There’s nothing to be gained here; you do know that?’ Maecenas said. ‘Even your excited new dog knows it, don’t you, Gracchus?’ Gracchus merely glared at him, saying nothing. ‘At best, you will anger a powerful man.’

Mark Antony came out into the courtyard, looking harassed and flushed. He gave orders as he went and more men and women scurried around him, staggering under chests and bales tied with leather.

The consul made a gesture to a man they had not yet seen, presumably guarding the door on the inside. They heard the rattle of iron as a bar was lifted and bolts drawn. It opened smoothly and Mark Antony stopped a pace within his property, regarding them with impatience in every feature. His gaze took in the fact that they were armed and his mouth firmed.

‘What is so important that you must trouble me in my home? Do you think the name of Caesar has such power still?’

‘It brought you out,’ Octavian replied.

Mark Antony waited a beat. Following the letter of the Senate’s orders, he could have gone to Brundisium with just a few servants. The reality was that he was moving his household, including his wife and children. He did not know when he would return and his mind was on the labyrinthine politics of the Senate, not the young man who called himself Caesar.

‘It must have escaped your notice that I am busy. See me when I return to Rome.’

‘Consul, men speak of you as one who was Caesar’s friend. I have read the text of your oration and it was … noble, no matter what came next. Yet the terms of his will have not been ratified in Senate and will not be, without your support. What of the legacy to the people of Rome?’

‘I’m sorry. The Senate have

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