“If we kill them, we will destroy any hope of peace in the future,” he said slowly. Domitius and Brutus exchanged a quick glance as Julius went on, testing the thoughts aloud. “We need . . . guile, as well as a strong arm, against our people. We need to win their loyalty, and that cannot be accomplished by killing men who love Rome as I do.”

“They won’t let us through, Julius,” Brutus said, coloring with irritation. “Would you, if an army wanted a path to your city? They’ll fight just to slow us down; you know they will.”

Julius frowned with the anger that was always close to the surface. “These are our own, Brutus. It is no small thing to be talking of killing them. Not for me.”

“That decision was made when we crossed the river and came south,” Brutus replied, refusing to back down. “You knew the price then. Or will you go alone and give yourself up to Pompey?”

Some of those who listened winced at his tone. Ciro shifted his massive shoulders, his anger showing. Brutus ignored them all, his gaze fixed on his general.

“If you stop now, Julius, we are all dead men. Pompey won’t forget we threatened the city. You know it. He’d follow us back to Britain if he had to.” He looked into Julius’s eyes and, for a moment, his voice shook. “Now don’t you let me down. I’ve come this far with you. We have to see it through.”

Julius returned the pleading gaze in silence before placing his hand on Brutus’s shoulder. “I am home, Brutus. If it sticks in my throat to kill men of my own city, would you begrudge me my doubts?”

“What choice do you have?” Brutus replied.

Julius began to pace up and down amongst the crushed wheat. “If I take power . . .” He froze for a moment as the idea formed, and spoke faster. “What if I declare Pompey’s Dictatorship to be illegal? I could enter Rome to restore the Republic then. That is how they must see me. Adàn! Where are you?” he called across the field. His Spanish scribe came at the run. “Here is your answer, Brutus,” Julius said, his eyes gleaming. “Adàn? I want a letter sent to every Roman commander. It is ten years since I was consul; there is no bar against me standing once more. Tell them . . . I reject the Dictatorship that Pompey will not end.”

Julius watched impatiently as Adàn fussed with his writing tablets.

“Let them know I will respect the courts and the Senate building, that Pompey alone is my enemy. Tell them that I will welcome any man who wishes to join me as we bring back the Republic of Marius and the security of the past. I carry the gold of Gaul with me and Rome will be reborn with what I have won for her.