The gate guards must have been told to expect them and waved the soldiers through without a halt. Once inside, though, with the heavy gate closed behind them, Julius found himself in a killing ground similar to the one between the walls at Mytilene. Any one of the buildings that faced the main yard could have been lined with archers, and with no way to retreat, the only forward path was a narrow one that was itself interrupted with wall slits for more. Julius shrugged as his centuries halted in order, dressing their ranks until they filled the yard in a perfect square.

Julius wondered how long Brutus would keep him waiting. It was a difficult thing to predict after so long away from his oldest friend. The boy he had known would have been there already, but the man who led the remnants of Primigenia had changed a great deal in their time apart—perhaps enough to bury the boy; he didn’t yet know.

With no outward sign of his impatience, Julius stood impassively with his men as the minutes stretched. He did need the barracks, and from what Tubruk had said, they were as good as Brutus claimed. With Crassus behind the purchase, the purse was heavy enough to buy the best in the city, after all. While he waited, Julius considered buying part of the barracks out of Crassus’s hands. Privately, he agreed with Tubruk that the relationship the rich senator was fostering could be a thorn for the future, no matter how friendly he appeared at present.

Brutus strode out of the main building with Renius at his side. With interest, Julius saw the capped stump of Renius’s left arm, though he kept his face still. Brutus looked furious and Julius’s hopes died in him.

As Brutus reached him, he halted stiffly, giving the salute from one equal to another. Julius returned it without hesitation. For a second, Julius felt pain at the space that separated them before his resolve firmed. He would not give way. Brutus wasn’t someone he wanted to use his wits to flatter and control. That sort of manipulation was for enemies or formal allies, not for the boy he’d caught a raven with, so many years before.

“Welcome to Primigenia barracks, Tribune,” Brutus said.

Julius shook his head at the formal tone. A touch of irritation spiked in him and he spoke to Renius, ignoring Brutus. “It is good to see you, old friend. Can’t you make him understand these men are not Primigenia?”

Renius looked impassively back at him for a moment before replying.

“This is not a time to split your strength, lad. The choosing day on the Campus is over this year—there’ll be no extra men for another legion. You two should stop puffing your chests at each other and make peace.”