“I see. How does Cato stand on the issue?” Pompey asked without looking over to the sprawling figure that straightened suddenly in his seat.

The Master of Debate risked a glance at Cato. “He has argued for censure,” he replied, bewildered.

Pompey joined his hands behind his back and those near him could see the whiteness of the knuckles as he spoke. “Then I shall vote against him.”

For a long moment, he held Cato’s gaze in the stillness until everyone there was aware of the new enmity between them. Whispers began as the older ones sat up with fresh interest.

“Furthermore, I call on my supporters to vote against him. I call on every vote owed me in debt. Discharge them here and clear your slate with me.”

The Senate erupted into chatter as they discussed the implications of such a move. It was practically a declaration of war, and Cato set his fleshy mouth in a thin line of irritation as the Master of Debate announced the vote. By calling in all his favors at the same time, Pompey was throwing away years of careful arrangements and alliances, simply to show his contempt in public.

Crassus paled slightly. It was a foolhardy thing for Pompey to do, though he thought he understood it. No one there could doubt that Pompey had subtly identified the man responsible for his daughter’s murder. Cato would lose a lot of his power while those around him weighed up this new threat and decided whether to distance themselves. He sighed. At least the vote would be won and Cato damaged by the decision. Though the numbers reflected many long-held obligations to Pompey, it was still difficult for the fat senator to stand almost alone with hundreds of his colleagues ranged against him.

The vote passed quickly and Pompey resumed his seat to engage in the discussion for the legion rank Julius would be given on his return to Senate. With most of the senators wanting to get out of the building into the cool fresh air, it was surprisingly quick and Cato hardly took part, stunned into immobility by the humiliation forced on him.

As they filed out through the bronze doors, Cato grimaced and inclined his head in Pompey’s direction, acknowledging the victory. Pompey ignored him and left quickly for home without speaking to anyone.

*                                                      *                                                      *

Tubruk climbed the inner steps up the wall of the estate, thankful for the early warning brought in by the field slaves. He strained to see details of the marching column coming along the road toward them.

“Two or three centuries, it looks like,” he called down to Cornelia, who had come out from the buildings at the summons. “I can’t see standards, but they’re in full armor. It could be part of the Roman garrison.”

“Will you turn out the men?” Cornelia asked nervously.