The Blood of Gods A Novel of Rome - By Conn Iggulden Page 0,66

on his neck. He should have guessed the legionaries would have heard the news. They marched together all day and the slightest rumour spread like a rash. He cursed under his breath. He should have burned the Senate orders, but it was too late for that. Folding his hands in front of him, Mark Antony tried to conceal his irritation.

‘Whatever Octavian calls himself now,’ he said, ‘I will deal with him when I return to the city. If that is all you have heard …’

‘I wish it was, Consul.’ Buccio took a deep breath, steeling himself for the reaction. ‘They are saying they will not fight against Caesar.’

The hush that followed was unbroken as every man there suddenly found his food fascinating.

‘You are talking about mutiny, Legate Buccio,’ Mark Antony said grimly. ‘Are you saying your men have not yet learned that particular lesson?’

‘I … I’m sorry, sir. I thought it was something you should hear.’

‘And you were correct in that, though I cannot help doubt your ability to lead if this is how you deal with it. Internal legion matters should be kept internal, Buccio! I would have thought nothing of a few floggings in the morning. A commander does not have to hear everything that goes on; you know that! Why bring idle gossip to my attention?’

‘Consul, I … I could handle a few fools rousing the others, but I understand that half the men are saying they will not fight, not against Caesar. Not in Rome, sir.’

Mark Antony leaned back. He waited while steaming chickens were brought to the table and torn apart by the hungry men.

‘You are all senior officers,’ he said when the serving staff had moved away to give them privacy. ‘I will say this to you. Rome gives your soldiers everything: a salary, status, a sense of brotherhood. But they endure the discipline because they are men of Rome.’

He waved a hand in frustration, trying to find words that would make it clear to the mystified faces around the table. Before he could go on, another of them cleared his throat to speak. Mark Antony rubbed the back of his neck in irritation. Legate Saturnius had not impressed him in their deliberations to that point. The man had no shame when it came to seeking his favour.

‘You have something to add?’ he said.

‘Yes, sir,’ Saturnius replied, leaning forward onto the table. ‘More often than not they come from impure lines, sir. I believe that is the problem. How can we expect the sons of prostitutes and merchants to understand our beliefs? They are prey to every new fashion, every wild speaker in the Republic. A few years ago, I had to have an agitator strangled because he was copying out the words of some Greek politician. The very few who could read were whispering his dangerous ideas to the ones that couldn’t. That one man was very nearly the rot that broke a legion!’

Saturnius looked to Mark Antony for approval, but found him gazing stonily back. Oblivious, Saturnius wiped his mouth of grease and went on.

‘The common soldiers are like unruly children, and in the same way, they must be disciplined.’ He began to sense the others were not with him and looked around the table. ‘It is all they understand, as the consul said.’

There was a moment of silence as some of the other men cringed internally. Saturnius looked from face to face in confusion.

‘Is that not so?’ he said, growing red.

‘It does you no credit to say so,’ Mark Antony replied, ‘or to put words in my mouth that I have not said. I do not know where you have served, Saturnius, but I have seen those sons of prostitutes and merchants risk their lives to save me, when my life could be measured in heartbeats. I said they were men of Rome. The least of them is worth something.’

Saturnius rubbed his face with both hands to make himself more alert. His voice took on a wheedling tone as he replied.

‘I thought, sir, after the executions in Brundisium, that you shared the same outlook. I apologise if that is not the case.’

Mark Antony glowered.

‘In Brundisium, they understood that punishment must come. Do you think it gave me pleasure to order a hundred criminals to their deaths? I was within my rights to order the decimation of every legion – the deaths of three thousand men, Saturnius. What I did was a gesture of strength – a demonstration that I would not