The Emperor Series Books 1-4. Conn Iggulden
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estate outside Rome and never looked back. Gaius' father said he was one in a thousand for organising talent. The slaves worked well under him, some from fear and some from liking. He sniffed at the two young boys.
‘Fall in the river, did we? Smells like it.’
They nodded happily at this explanation.
‘Mind you, you didn't pick up those stick marks from a river bottom, did you? Suetonius, was it? I should have kicked his backside for him years ago, when he was young enough for it to make a difference. Well?’
‘No, Tubruk, we had an argument and fought each other. No one else was involved and even if there had been, we would want to handle it ourselves, you see?’
Tubruk grinned at this from such a small boy. He was forty-five years of age, with hair that had gone grey in his thirties. He had been a legionary in Africa in the Third Cyrenaica legion, and had fought nearly a hundred battles as a gladiator, collecting a mass of scars on his body. He put out his great spade of a hand and rubbed his square fingers through Gaius' hair.
‘I do see, little wolf. You are your father's son. You cannot handle everything yet though, you are just a little lad and Suetonius – or whoever – is shaping into a fine young warrior so I hear. Mind yourselves, his father is too powerful to be an enemy in the Senate.’
Gaius drew himself up to his full height and spoke as formally as he knew how, trying to assert his position.
‘It is luck then, that this Suetonius is in no way attached to ourselves,’ he replied.
Tubruk nodded as if he had accepted the point, trying not to grin.
Gaius continued more confidently: ‘Send Lucius to me to look at our wounds. My nose is broken and almost certainly Marcus’ hand is the same.'
Tubruk watched them totter into the main house and resumed his post in the darkness, guarding the gate on first watch, as he did each night. It would be full summer soon and the days would be almost too hot to bear. It was good to be alive with the sky so clear and honest work ahead.
The following morning was an agony of protest from muscles, cuts and joints; the two days after that were worse. Marcus had succumbed to a fever that the physician said entered his head through the broken bone of his hand, which swelled to astonishing proportions as it was strapped and splinted. For days he was hot and had to be kept in darkness, while Gaius fretted on the steps outside.
Almost exactly one week after the attack in the woods, Marcus was lying asleep, still weak, but recovering. Gaius could still feel pain as he stretched his muscles and his face was a pretty collection of yellow and purple patches, shiny and tight in places as they healed. It was time, though: time to find Suetonius.
As he walked through the woods of the family estate, his mind was full of thoughts of fear and pain. What if Suetonius didn't show up? There was no reason to suppose that he made regular trips into the woods. What if the older boy was with his friends again? They would kill him, no doubt about it. Gaius had brought a bow with him this time, and practised drawing it as he walked. It was a man's bow and too large for him, but he found he could plant the end in the ground and pull an arrow back enough to frighten Suetonius, if the boy refused to back down.
‘Suetonius, you are a pus-filled bag of dung. If I catch you on my father's land, I will put an arrow through your head.’
He spoke aloud as he went along. It was a beautiful day to walk in the woods and he might have enjoyed it if it wasn't for his serious purpose in being there. This time, too, he had his brown hair oiled tight against his head and clean, simple clothes that allowed him easy movements and an unrestricted draw.
He was still on his side of the estate border, so Gaius was surprised when he heard footsteps up ahead and saw Suetonius and a giggling girl appear suddenly on the wide track. The older boy didn't notice him for a moment, so intent was he on grappling with the girl.
‘You're trespassing,’ Gaius snapped, pleased to hear his voice come out steady, even if it was high. ‘You're on my father's estate.’
Suetonius jumped and swore in shock. As he saw Gaius plant one end of the bow in the path and understood the threat, he began to laugh.
‘A little wolf now! A creature of many forms, it seems. Didn't you get enough of a beating last time, little wolf ?’
The girl seemed very pretty to Gaius, but he wished she would go away and lose herself. He had not imagined a female present for this encounter and felt a new level of danger from Suetonius.
Suetonius put a melodramatic arm around the girl.
‘Careful, my dear. He is a dangerous fighter. He is especially dangerous when upside down, then he is unstoppable!’ He laughed at his own joke and the girl joined in.
‘Is he that one you mentioned, Tonius? Look at his angry little face!’
‘If I see you here again, I'll put an arrow through you,’ Gaius said quickly, the words tumbling over themselves. He pulled the shaft back a few inches. ‘Leave now or I will strike you down.’
Suetonius had stopped smiling as he weighed up his chances.
‘All right then, parvus lupus, I'll give you what you seem to want.’
Without warning, he rushed at him and Gaius released the arrow too quickly. It struck the tunic of the older boy, but fell away without piercing. Suetonius yelled in triumph and stepped forward with his hands outstretched and his eyes cruel. Gaius whipped the bow up in panic, hitting the older boy on the nose. Blood spurted and Tonius roared in rage and pain, his eyes filling with tears. As Gaius raised the bow again, Tonius seized it with one hand and Gaius' throat with the other, carrying him back six or seven paces with the sheer fury of his charge.
‘Any other threats?’ he growled as his grip tightened. Blood poured from his nose and stained his praetexta tunic. He wrenched the bow away from Gaius' grasp and set about him with it, raining blows, but all the time keeping hold of his throat.
‘He's going to kill me and pretend it was an accident,’ Gaius thought desperately. ‘I can see it in his eyes. I can't breathe.’
He pummelled at the larger boy with his own fists, but his reach was not enough to do any real damage. His vision lost colour, becoming like a dream; his ears ceased to hear sound. He lost consciousness as Tonius threw him down onto the wet leaves.
Tubruk found Gaius on the path about an hour later and woke him by pouring water onto his bruised and battered head. Once again, his face was a crusted mess. His barely scabbed eye had filled with blood, so that his vision was dark on that side. His nose had been rebroken and everything else was a bruise.
‘Tubruk?’ he murmured, dazed. ‘I fell out of a tree.’
The big man's laugh echoed in the closeness of the dense woods.
‘You know, lad, no one doubts your courage. It's your ability to fight I'm not too sure about. It's time you were properly trained before you get yourself killed. When your father is back from the city, I'll raise it with him.’
‘You won't tell him about … me falling from the tree? I hit a lot of branches on the way down.’ Gaius could taste blood in his mouth, leaking back from the broken nose.
‘Did you manage to hit the tree at all? Even once?’ Tubruk asked, looking at the scuffed leaves and reading the answers for himself.
‘The tree has a nose like mine, I'd say.’ Gaius tried to smile, but vomited into the bushes instead.
‘Hmmm. Is this the end of it, do you think? I can't let you carry on and see you crippled or dead. When your father is away in the city, he expects you to begin to learn your responsibilities as his heir and a patrician, not an urchin involved in pointless brawls.’ Tubruk paused to pick up a battered bow from the undergrowth. The string had snapped and he tutted.
‘I should tan your backside for stealing this bow as well.’
Gaius nodded miserably.