“I have not come back from ten years of war to struggle against my own people here. I tell you that you have been misled. I give you my word that not one of you will be killed if you put away your weapons now.” He swept his gaze over the men. “You have a choice, gentlemen. I will treat you with honor if you make good your mistake. Look around you. I do not need to be merciful. After this, I will consider you traitors to Rome.”

He had reached Ahenobarbus once more and the guard was forced to look up into the sun to meet his eyes. Julius was dark against the light as he waited for a response.

“Well? Your idiocy has brought them here,” Julius said softly. “Will you see them all killed for nothing?” Mutely, Ahenobarbus shook his head. “Then stand them down and bring the officers to me, Ahenobarbus. We must discuss the terms of the surrender.”

“You did break a law when you crossed the Rubicon, sir,” Ahenobarbus said stubbornly.

Julius’s eyes flashed. “And Dictatorships are meant to be temporary. Sometimes a man must act according to his conscience, General,” he replied.

Ahenobarbus looked away at his men for a moment. “I have your word that there will be no punishment?” he said.

Julius did not hesitate. “I will not shed Roman blood, General. Not unless I must. You have my word.”

Being addressed as an equal was such a small thing, but the urge to throw away his life had faded like a memory. Ahenobarbus nodded. “Very well, sir. I will stand down.”

“Give me your sword,” Julius said.

The two men locked eyes for a moment before Ahenobarbus held it up and Julius’s hand closed over the scabbard. The symbolic gesture was seen by all the guards.

“The right choice, at last,” Julius said, quietly, before cantering back to his own lines.

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Pompey stood on the docks at Ostia and looked back in the direction of Rome. The port town was quiet and he wondered if the inhabitants understood what they were seeing. It was possible, but over his time in the Senate he had come to realize that there were thousands of citizens who barely noticed the work of their masters. Their lives went on just the same. After all, no matter who was consul, the bread had to be baked and the fish brought in.