The Forgotten Legion - Kane Ben - Страница 67

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Fabiola kept aware of current trends. All knowledge was power and a possible escape from the life she secretly detested. Bringing rich and powerful men under her influence could only help this. Learning how senators, members of the magistracy and army bargained and dealt with each other was fascinating. As a slave in Gemellus' house, Fabiola had had no idea of what went on in the world and how Rome was ruled. Now, after countless hours spent in the company of those who controlled the Republic, she understood it intimately.

For more than five years, Pompey, Crassus and Caesar had enjoyed a stranglehold on the reins of power. Each took his turn as consul and the best governorships were carefully shared. Corrupt equestrians took the rest. A small number of politicians, among them the senators Cato and Domitius, remained loyal to the Republic's original ideal – that no one man should have supreme power. But as a tiny minority, they rarely succeeded in slowing the inexorable decline of the Senate 's influence.

The triumvirate cleverly kept the ignorant masses happy with frequent munera – gladiator games and horse racing. Distributions of grain to those in need were made free. This resulted in massive influxes of the rural poor to Rome, creating an ever greater demand. Imports of wheat from Egypt soared, prices plummeted, Italian farms suffered. More landless peasants arrived in the cities, requiring more food and entertainment.

Desperate for employment, many joined the military, eager to comply with whatever their leaders ordered. Instead of answering to the Senate, legions were now loyal to generals like Caesar and Pompey. Romans were increasingly prepared to fight each other. It was a far cry from the days of farmers who had served the Republic's army each summer. The people's democracy, which had endured for half a millennium, was stealthily being eroded. If Fabiola's clients were right, it was only a matter of time before one of the triumvirate made a bid for absolute control. The balance of power swung this way and that, as deals and alliances between the three rivals were made and broken again.

Nobody knew who would emerge triumphant.

Although she was not lucky enough to have snared one of the triumvirate, there were several potential candidates for Fabiola's ultimate aim: a client to buy her freedom. As the mistress of a rich noble, she would have a real chance to pursue Gemellus and find out who her father was. Fabiola had not yet selected the unknowing customer. It was something that required careful planning. The decision would be life-changing in more ways than one.

One of the most likely was Decimus Brutus. As Julius Caesar's popularity grew with each passing year, so did that of his close allies. Tales of the general's outstanding tactics and victories against overwhelming odds filled Rome's bathhouses, markets and brothels with gossip. There were even stories about Brutus' victories against tribes such as the Veneti.

Fabiola was ecstatic.

Sent home by Caesar to canvass and maintain support among the equestrians and senators, the taker of Fabiola's virginity had returned permanently from Gaul two years later. Having made regular visits to the Lupanar each time he was in Rome, the staff officer had become totally infatuated with her. Every need and desire of his was slaked and the pillow talk he provided in return was worth more than that of all her other clients put together. It gave Fabiola a window on the thoughts of a military genius, the likes of whom had not been seen in generations.

'What a leader,' Brutus gushed. 'Alexander himself would have been proud to meet Julius Caesar.'

'Such devotion!' Fabiola raked his arm with long fingernails. 'And he deserves it all?'

'Of course.' Brutus' eyes shone with pride. 'You should have seen him last winter in Gaul. One night he slept amongst his men on the frozen ground, wrapped only in his cloak. The next morning, he turned a battle with the Eburones on its head. Sixty thousand tribesmen against seven thousand legionaries! Defeat was imminent until Caesar took a place in the front line. Covered himself in enemy blood. He rallied the men and rolled those savages back.'

Consummate at her job, Fabiola gasped with apparent amazement. She did not care for war and the suffering it caused. Brutus was so excited he did even not notice.

'What does he look like?' she asked idly, wondering if Caesar would ever visit the Lupanar. 'Not fat, like Pompey?'

Brutus laughed. 'Lean as a whippet!' He frowned and stared at her, concentrating. 'You have the same nose.'

'Really?' She batted her eyelashes.

The subject of their father had always been taboo. Just once, not long before Gemellus had sold them, Velvinna had hinted that she'd been raped by a noble. But when the twins had begun asking questions, she had clammed up. 'Not fit for children's ears. I'll tell you in a few years.' There would never be a chance to ask her mother about the rape now. Fabiola knew the merchant had sold Velvinna to the salt mines a few months later. Curse him.

'No patrician blood in me,' she sighed, giving nothing away.

Brutus took her hand and kissed it. 'You are the queen of my heart,' he replied. 'That makes you noble.'

This time, the smile was real. Fabiola was genuinely fond of the enthusiastic young staff officer. He was the best candidate, she suddenly decided. Her fingers trailed across firm chest muscles, straying towards his groin. 'Thank you, Master,' Fabiola said. Half-closed eyes looked at him seductively for a moment. Then she slid down, tugging off his licium.

Brutus moaned in anticipation.

I must see Caesar's face, she thought.

Some months later, Brutus finally persuaded her to attend a gladiator contest sponsored by Pompey. Terrified she would witness Romulus fighting, Fabiola had always refused invitations to the arena. But it seemed a good chance to see one of Rome's destiny-makers in person, so she agreed. Crassus was long gone to the east and Caesar had not visited Italy for nearly two years, prohibited as a general with a standing army. Pompey was, for the moment, the leading man in the city and he was making the most of it.

On a warm afternoon in early summer, Brutus' largest slaves carried a litter through crowded streets to Pompey's new auditorium on the Campus Martius. Fabiola and the staff officer sat inside, protected from the world by light curtains. A dozen armed guards paced around them, whipping the way clear of eager citizens. Thanks to charges of corruption against the two sitting consuls and the resulting disarray in the Senate, public unrest was on the increase. Brutus left nothing to chance and there was no equality in the manner of their entrance to the stands.

Soon they were sitting in the area reserved for nobles, protected from sunlight by the cloth velarium. Fabiola felt quite strange. Life as one of the ruling class was altogether different. Liberating. It strengthened her determination not to remain a slave for much longer.

Fabiola's lover sat on the cushioned wooden seat alongside, a broad grin on his handsome face. They had spent the previous night together. After a long bath, she had given him a lingering massage. Brutus felt like a god.

Other nobles had watched them arrive, nodding at Brutus and eyeing Fabiola curiously. Some had seen her before, but many had not. Excursions tended to be outside the city, to Brutus' villa at Capua. As usual in such situations, men's glances were admiring, women's disapproving. Fabiola ignored both, staring round the arena proudly. One day she would be free. Equal to those who sneered, more than a mere prostitute.

'No sport watching animals being slaughtered,' Brutus said. He had delayed coming until the earlier, boring contests had already finished. Trumpets were now announcing the imminent entrance of gladiators. 'Might as well see some skill.'

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