The Blood of Gods A Novel of Rome - By Conn Iggulden Page 0,46

than a distraction, at a time when he could not afford to be distracted. Six legions waited at the coast, no doubt in fear of the Senate’s anger. They had not yet mutinied, at least not formally. If he found the words to call them, they would be his to command. It was exactly the sort of grand stroke Julius would have attempted and the thought warmed him.

With the energy of a younger man, Mark Antony put his foot on the step and leapt up onto the carriage, clambering in through the narrow door to where his wife and children were eating. Fulvia and her daughter were playing a game with a long string wound about their fingers. They were in mid-laughter as he appeared among them, the sound cut short. Mark Antony nodded to his two sons and stepdaughter, ruffling the hair of Antyllus as he stepped over him.

In her thirties, Fulvia had broadened across the hips and waist, though her skin and black hair were still lustrous. Claudia moved to give him space and Fulvia held out her arms to her husband. The consul almost fell into them in the low space, landing with a gasp on the bench as his feet tangled in cloth. Paulus yelped and Claudia smacked his leg, making the younger boy glare. Mark Antony leaned close to Fulvia, speaking into her ear.

‘I think I have waited my whole life for a chance like this,’ he said, smiling.

She kissed him on the neck, looking up at him in adoration.

‘The omens are good, husband. My soothsayer was amazed at the signs this morning.’

Mark Antony’s high spirits dampened slightly, but he nodded, pleased that she was happy. If he had learned one thing from the years at Caesar’s side, it was that omens and entrails were not as important as quick wits and strength.

‘I’m going ahead. You’ll see me in Brundisium and I hope with more than just a few guards at my back.’

She winked at him, smiling even as their sons demanded to know what he meant. Mark Antony cuffed their heads affectionately, kissed Claudia and Fulvia goodbye, then opened the door and vaulted down to the road, leaving his wife to deal with the endless questions.

In just moments, he had gained the saddle of his gelding and untied the reins. His personal guards were mounted and ready, keen to be off. On a Roman road, they had no fear of bad ground in the moonlight. They would be twenty miles clear by dawn.

The rising sun brought pale light through the blown-glass windows high in the walls. Maecenas sat back, enjoying the sense of utter relaxation that came from a private bath-house. Steam filled his lungs with every breath and he could barely see his companions.

Caesar’s town house had been in a state of half-life when they entered it, with most of the furniture covered in great sheets of dusty, brown cloth. In just a few hours, the staff had lit the fires and the floors were already warm enough to walk on in bare feet. In the presence of a new owner, they had scavenged fresh fruit from one of the markets and begun to prepare a cold meal. Maecenas thought idly that he was sitting where Caesar himself had sat. Where Caesar still sat, he corrected himself with a smile, looking through the mist at Octavian. Dripping with sweat and steam, his friend stared into some private vision, his muscles as tight as ropes in his arms and shoulders. Looking at him, Maecenas remembered his friend collapsing, sightless and pale. He did not want to see that again.

‘Are you ready yet for the cold bath or the massage?’ he said. ‘It will relax you.’

At least Gracchus was not present. Maecenas had given him the task of bringing life back to the house. The legionary was still working hard to remain and Octavian had not objected. Despite his misgivings, it was almost pleasant to deal with one whose greed for gold made him transparent.

‘Agrippa?’ Maecenas asked again. ‘What about you?’

‘Not yet,’ Agrippa rumbled, his voice echoing oddly in the steam.

‘Oct … Caesar?’ Maecenas said, catching himself.

Octavian opened his eyes, smiling tiredly.

‘Thank you. I must get used to the new name. But we are private here and I do not want to be overheard. Stay.’

Maecenas shrugged slightly, letting the warm air flow out of his lungs and then sucking in a deep breath.

‘I hope today will not be as busy as yesterday, that’s all I