Cabera cackled as he made the reins crack in the air. “He would have been too suspicious if it was. No, we paid just enough to make him think of us as wine dealers avoiding the city tariff. You look like a guard and he probably thought of me as the wealthy owner.”

Brutus snorted. “He thought you were a cart driver. That tatty old robe of yours doesn’t look much like a wealthy owner to me,” he replied as they wound on through the streets. Cabera snapped the leather reins again in irritation as a response.

The cart blocked the road neatly, with its wheels fitting between the stepping-stones used by the walking crowds. There was nowhere to pass or turn and their progress toward Marius’s house was slow, though Cabera enjoyed shouting at the other drivers and shaking his fist at anyone who dared to cross in front of them. Four of Julius’s men fell in behind them, obviously pleased to have the cart to follow through the tortuous maze of streets. Neither Brutus nor Cabera dared look back at them, though Brutus wondered how many would still be wandering through the markets at sunset. His directions had been simple enough, he was sure, but then after months of working with Primigenia at their barracks as well as his trips to see his mother, he knew Rome as well as anybody. Pretending to check the wheels under them, Brutus looked around and was relieved to see the number of followers had grown to nine of the men Julius had wanted. He hoped they wouldn’t make it too obvious, or the curious people of Rome would quickly be joining them and an impromptu procession would arrive at Marius’s old house, with the cart at the head and any attempt at stealth ruined.

As they turned in to the hill that led up to the great house he remembered so vividly, Brutus saw a gesticulating figure shouting at someone inside the gate. At least the road was wide enough so that stopping on it would not bring all the traffic in the area to a shuddering halt, he thought gratefully.

“Get out and check the wheels or something,” he hissed to Cabera, who clambered down with an ill grace and walked around the cart, pronouncing “Wheel” as he came to each one. The shouting man at the gate didn’t seem to notice the laden cart that had stopped just down from him, and Brutus risked another glance back, blinking in surprise at the group of men who had assembled behind him. Even worse, they had fallen into ranks and, despite their clothing, looked exactly what they were—a group of legionaries pretending to be citizens. Brutus leapt out of the cart and ran over to them.

“Don’t stand to attention, you fools. You’ll have every house in the area sending guards out to see what you’re doing!”