The Blood of Gods A Novel of Rome - By Conn Iggulden Page 0,61

may not be possible to lay hands on them within the law, not when the Senate have made those laws. Perhaps you could demand the least of them to be turned over into your custody. Hold a trial for them in the forum and let the Senate see that you understand dignity and tradition.’

‘There’s only Gaius Trebonius and Suetonius left in Rome, I think,’ Octavian said slowly. ‘Trebonius did not even wield a blade with the rest. I could take them both by force. But that will not bring me the others, especially those who have been given powerful posts. It will not bring me Cassius or Brutus. All I need is a renunciation of the amnesty and then they can all be brought to trial.’

Maecenas shook his head. ‘Then you must be willing to cut a few throats, or at least threaten to do so without bluffing.’

Octavian brought his knuckles up to his eyes, pressing out the weariness.

‘I will find a way, when I have slept.’

He rose from the table, stifling another yawn that spread quickly around the table. Almost as an afterthought, Octavian looked towards the doorway where he had left Gracchus. It was empty. The lamplight lit only the gentle drizzle coming down through the air of the forum.

Pompey’s theatre was at its best at night. The huge semicircles of stone seats were lit by hundreds of lamps swinging high above. Servants had climbed ladders to reach the larger bowls of oil that flickered above the stage itself, creating conflicting shadows that moved in gold and black.

In the absence of Mark Antony, four men stood to face the others and direct the debate. Bibilus and Suetonius had the least right to do so, though Bibilus had been a consul years before. Senators Hirtius and Pansa were not due to take up their consular posts until the new year, but the emergency required the most senior men to put aside differences and they had the attention of the Senate that night. All four had discovered that the position facing the benches gave their voices a new power and resonance and they relished being able to quell discussion with just a sharp word.

‘Consul Mark Antony is not the issue,’ Hirtius said for the second time. ‘Fast messengers are on their way to him and there is nothing more we can do until he has returned. There is no point debating whether he will be successful in punishing the mutinous behaviour at Brundisium. If he has sense, he will have them marching without delay and leave their decimation as a condition of their success in relieving us here.’

Several senators stood up and Hirtius picked a man that he knew would at least add something useful instead of raging pointlessly about factors they could not influence.

‘Senator Calvus has the floor,’ Hirtius said, gesturing to him. The others sat down on the curving benches, though many of them talked among themselves.

‘Thank you,’ Senator Calvus said, staring grimly at two men talking close to him until they broke off in embarrassment. ‘I wished only to remind the Senate that Ostia is closer than the legions at Brundisium. Are there forces there which can be brought in?’

It was Bibilus who cleared his throat to reply. Senator Hirtius nodded to him out of courtesy.

‘In normal times there would be at least a full legion at Ostia. Until two months ago, that legion was the Eighth Gemina, one of the two currently infesting the forum. Caesar’s campaign against Parthia brought in legions from as far away as Macedonia, ready to join the fleet. Ostia has no more than a few hundred soldiers and administrators at the port, perhaps as many again in retired men. It is not enough to scrape these invaders out of the city, even if we could be certain they would remain loyal to us.’

Angry voices answered him and Bibilus wiped sweat from his brow. He had not sat a single day in the Senate until Caesar’s death and he was still not accustomed to the sheer noise and energy of the debates.

Senator Calvus had remained on his feet and Bibilus gave way to him, sitting down with a thump on a heavy bench dragged to the front for that purpose.

‘The question of loyalty lies at the heart of the problem facing us tonight,’ Calvus said. ‘Our main hopes rest with the legions of Brundisium. Yet the consul has gone not to forgive them, but to exact punishment. If he has not suppressed