The grey-haired man standing beside Marcus tilted his head slightly to one side as he considered the boy’s question. Festus was in charge of Caesar’s private bodyguard, a small force of army veterans, ex-gladiators and street fighters who were tasked with his safety when he passed through the crowded streets of Rome. Marcus was the youngest member of the bodyguard, but had won the respect of the others for his courage and skill with weapons.

‘Hard to decide. The master is popular enough with the people. His land reforms last year have helped many. But they won’t have a say over what happens to him. That’s down to the senators alone.’ He paused and a smile creased his weathered face. ‘But I dare say that most of them will not be willing to risk the anger of the mob by putting Caesar on trial. The only danger is that Cato will manage to sway their opinion.’

Marcus turned his gaze to the surly-looking senator sitting on the front bench opposite Caesar. Cato wore his usual plain brown toga to show that he held true to the plain virtues and traditions of the forefathers of the Senate. In the previous year he had bitterly resisted the reforms of Caesar and the two men remained enemies.

One of the new consuls, Calpurnius Piso, was chairing the debate and now stood up to speak. The other senators and the spectators fell silent out of respect for his office as he cleared his throat.

‘My fellow senators. I am mindful that there are barely two hours left before the day is out. We have heard the arguments for and against the motion for the last three days and I move that we now vote on whether Caesar should be put on trial.’

‘Now we’ll find out,’ Marcus muttered.

‘Don’t be so sure,’ said Festus. ‘You haven’t reckoned on our friend Clodius.’

Marcus nodded, recalling the violent young man who had organized the street gangs that had served Caesar’s interests the previous year.

‘I forbid!’ a voice announced loudly.

Everyone’s eyes turned towards one of the men sitting on the tribunes’ bench. The tribunes, elected by the people, had the power to oppose any decisions made in the Senate, but it was a power rarely exercised. Now, Tribune Clodius rose to his feet and held out his hand. ‘I forbid the vote.’

At once Cato was on his feet, pointing his finger accusingly. ‘On what grounds?’

Clodius turned to the senator and smiled. ‘I don’t have to give you reasons, my dear Cato. I simply have the right to forbid a vote. That is all.’

Cato glared across the floor of the Senate House. ‘But you have a moral obligation to explain your decision. You must give your reasons.’

‘Must I?’ Clodius turned to the consul.

Piso sighed and shook his head.

‘Bah!’ Cato fumed. ‘The tribune is abusing his power. If there is no good reason to forbid a vote, and there isn’t, then it is not right that he should do so.’