Slowly, Julius rubbed the damp leaves together in his hand and let them fall. The soldiers of the Tenth reached a chorus, their voices soaring over the fields.

“I heard that song from the men who followed Marius, years ago,” he said. “These things seem to survive somehow.”

Octavian looked at his general, tilting his head as he assessed his mood. “I feel it. This is home,” he said.

Julius smiled. “I haven’t been this close to the city in ten years. But I can sense her on the horizon. I swear I can.” He raised his hand and pointed over the low hills, heavy with wheat. “Over there, waiting for us. Fearing us perhaps, while Pompey threatens and blusters.”

His eyes grew cold as the last words were spoken. He would have continued, but Brutus rode up through the crops, leaving a snaking path behind him. Julius rose to his feet and they clasped hands.

“The scouts report eleven cohorts, maybe twelve,” Brutus said.

Julius’s mouth twisted irritably. Every legion post and road fort had been cleared before them as they moved south. His march had shaken them free like ripe fruit and now they were within reach. Whatever their quality, six thousand men was too many to leave at his back.

“They’ve gathered in Corfinium,” Brutus continued. “The town looks like someone kicked a wasp nest. Either they know we’re close, or they’re getting ready to move back to Rome.”

Julius glanced around him, noticing how many in earshot were sitting up and listening, anticipating his order. The thought of unleashing them on Roman soldiers was almost a blasphemy.

Pompey had done well to recall the guards. They would do more good on the walls of Rome than wasted against the Gaul veterans. Julius knew he should strike fast to blood the campaign and seal the decision made on the banks of the Rubicon. Brutus shifted at the delay, but Julius still did not speak, staring into nothing. The men in Corfinium were inexperienced. It would be a slaughter.

“The numbers are accurate?” Julius said softly.

Brutus shrugged. “As far as they can be. I didn’t let the scouts risk being seen, but it’s clear ground. There’s no ambush. I’d say these are the only soldiers between us and Rome. And we can take these. The gods know we have enough experience breaking into towns.”

Julius looked up as Domitius and Ciro came out of the wheat with Regulus. Mark Antony was only a short way behind them and he felt the pressure to give the orders to spill Roman blood on Roman land. Once those first lives were taken, every loyal hand would be raised against him. Every legion would swear vengeance unto death against his name. The civil war would be a test of strength and numbers that he could very well lose. His mind searched feverishly and he wiped sweat from his forehead.