Brutus. ‘Tonight! The Thirteenth Legion is already on the near bank. They only await Caesar’s arrival before crossing.’
‘So soon?’ Startled, Fabiola glanced at her lover. But he was not joking. ‘What about Pompey’s forces?’
His lips parted in a wolfish smile. ‘The fool has none in the area, and the garrisons of Ariminium and other nearby towns have been bribed well.’
Fabiola was relieved. There would be no immediate bloodshed. ‘What are his plans?’
‘You know Caesar,’ Brutus replied with a wink. ‘Never happy unless he goes for the jugular.’
She paled. ‘Rome?’
He grinned in acknowledgement.
Fabiola felt faint. This was far more than she had expected. Although it was not all here in Ravenna, Caesar’s battle-hardened army was the most powerful ever controlled by one man in the Republic’s history. Yet once assembled, Pompey’s would be far larger. The impending clash over which of the two had ultimate power boded ill for the future of democracy and the rights of the ordinary citizen. How had things come to such a pass? ‘And us?’ she asked.
‘This is when Caesar most needs support.’ He smiled fiercely. ‘We go with him.’
Fabiola’s heart began to pound. Fear and dread blended with a strange excitement. She would witness a Roman leader commit the most treasonous act possible.
Crossing the Rubicon under arms.
Awe filled Fabiola. The druid had been right. If only he had revealed more about Romulus, she thought with a pang of anguish.
‘You’ll hear about it later,’ Brutus revealed.
Fabiola looked at him enquiringly.
‘Caesar’s holding a banquet. We’re invited.’
‘Is he not meeting with you and the other officers?’ she asked, confused.
‘Quite the opposite. Relaxation before a battle is the best policy,’ Brutus laughed. ‘Just remember not to ask him about Gergovia.’
Fabiola giggled, then her face turned serious. ‘Don’t worry, my love. I won’t ever let you down again like that.’
‘I know.’ Stepping closer, Brutus looked into her eyes. ‘You, I can rely on more than anyone else.’
This comment lit up Fabiola’s heart. It confirmed that Brutus was hers more than Caesar’s. An important battle had already been won.
To Fabiola, that was more important than any of the ones to follow.
Fabiola had long ago lost her embarrassment when being introduced to nobility. By now most, if not all, of Brutus’ colleagues knew her history. Unknown to her lover, one or two had even been clients in the Lupanar. Often, though, Romans were quite accepting of slaves who had been freed, which made her life much easier. As far as the military officers Fabiola encountered were concerned, she was a beautiful, intelligent young woman whom Brutus valued considerably. She suspected that many were somewhat jealous and would have liked her for themselves.
At the feast that night, Fabiola was grateful for her acquired poise when introduced to Longinus, one of the new tribunes. Meeting him made Fabiola so nervous that she wanted to vomit, yet she controlled herself adroitly. Together with Antonius and Curio, Longinus had brought the news of the Senate’s actions to Ravenna just a few hours before. But that was not what interested Fabiola most. This was the officer who had escaped from Carrhae with his honour and the survivors of his legion intact. He had also brought news of the terrible defeat to Rome. While it was like reopening an old wound, Fabiola could not help wanting to pick Longinus’ brains, asking him not about his role in the impending civil war but his experiences in Parthia. All her hopes about Romulus had resurfaced with a vengeance the instant he appeared.
Longinus was surprised. ‘Why would you want to know about that burning hell?’ he asked, his scarred face confused. ‘I try never to think about it.’
A quick glance over her shoulder told Fabiola that Brutus was not watching. She turned coy, a policy which rarely failed with men. ‘Don’t be modest, general,’ she purred. ‘I’m told that if you had been in charge at Carrhae, the outcome might have been quite different.’
Flattered, Longinus’ grizzled features softened. ‘I don’t know about that,’ he protested. ‘But Crassus certainly wouldn’t listen to my advice that day.’
She nodded understandingly. ‘How bad was it?’
Longinus scowled. ‘Beyond your imagination, lady. Nothing but sand as far as the eye could see. Temperatures hotter than Hades. Scant food and no water.’ He sighed. ‘And the damn Parthians. Little men for the most part, but by all the gods, they can ride and shoot arrows. Ordinary legionaries just can’t fight them.’ His face darkened. ‘And thanks to the treachery of our so-called Nabataean allies, we had precious few