Brutus silenced him with a wave of his hand. “No. I am the right man to lead you in this. I will not risk my life on fools and secrets. If this is to be done, let it be done well.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “If we are to risk our lives for the good of Rome, it must be before spring. He plans a campaign in Parthia that will take him away, perhaps for years.”

Cassius smiled in triumph. He stood and held out his hand.

“The Republic is worth a life,” he said as Brutus gripped his thin fingers.

Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

From the highest rooftops, the petals of red roses filled the air by the million, drifting down on the Dictator’s procession. The citizens of Rome reached up to them like children, entranced. For weeks, they had walked to the city from their farms and homes, drawn by the lure of glory and spectacle. The price of a bed had soared, but Julius had given every family a bag of silver, a jug of sweet oil, and corn to make bread. The city had been rich with the smell of baking as they rose at dawn to watch Julius sacrifice a white bull at the temple of Jupiter. The omens had been good, as he had known they would be.

He had employed hundreds in the arrangements for the Triumph, from the ex-legion adventurers charged with capturing animals in Africa, to the stonemasons given the task of re-creating Alexandria in Rome. Statues of Egyptian gods lined the route through the city and by noon many were draped with climbing children, laughing and calling to one another.

The ancient streets had a festive air, with every junction festooned in bright banners fluttering gaily over the city. By nightfall, there would be many girls with Julius to thank for a wedding dress from the material. Until then, Rome was a riot of color and noise.

The column that wound its way through the main streets at noon was more than a mile long and lined at every step by cheering citizens. Soldiers of the Tenth and Fourth had been recalled from retirement to lead Julius through the city. They walked like heroes, and those who knew their history showed appreciation at the sight of the men who had taken Gaul and beaten Pompey at Pharsalus.

The gladiators of Rome marched wearing heads of falcons and jackals, while chained leopards spat and struggled to the delight of the crowd.