Gallia Invicta

your ‘ice monsters’ before the trial actually begins. Have you given any thought to continued protection for the defendant here should you have to leave and join your legion?”

Fronto frowned. The thought hadn’t occurred to him. For the first time in years he’d wintered in Rome and had found that he’d actually enjoyed himself; particularly in the past few weeks with the added entertainment of villains to kick. He’d hardly spared a thought for the Tenth. Beside him, Crispus cleared his throat.

“I daresay that our favourite convalescing camp prefect would be more than adequate for the task. He is to stay in Rome on enforced leave and I suspect would welcome the distraction.”

Fronto grinned.

“Aye, Priscus knows what he’s doing; Caelius’ll be in good hands.”

Cicero and Crassus shared a glance and nodded.

“Very well,” Crassus smiled, “you just keep on doing what you’re doing and we shall begin putting the case together in detail. Cicero here has gathered copious notes, details and depositions over the past fortnight and we should have everything we need, though we may drop in from time to time when questions arise that only Caelius here can answer.”

Cicero changed hands with the tablets he was carrying and opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it sharply, a cloud falling across his face as he looked back up the steps.

Fronto turned to follow his gaze. The prosecution party had appeared at the entrance to the curia and begun to make its way down to the comitium where they stood. The legate spared a moment to take in everything he could of his enemy. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from Clodius, but for some reason his mind had padded the man out with a rotund, sweaty form, dripping in jewellery and excess, piggy eyes greedily searching out his next vice. This mental image could hardly have been further from the truth.

Clodius was a handsome man of middle height, with neat black hair and high cheekbones, his form slim and athletic and attire suited to an austere public event. The man was, quite simply, stylish. Behind him stood the tall, olive figure of his ‘facilitator’, Philopater. Fronto had met the man a couple of times and had taken enough of a dislike to him that he had to restrain himself on sight. The other prosecutors had separated from the pair as they emerged and, without any exchange, had veered off to the left away from the gathering. As Clodius and his man approached, however, a new figure appeared at the doorway and stepped light and fast down the stairs to catch up with them.

Clodia was stunning. Her ebony tresses, pinned elegantly and woven around a diadem of silver filigree, surrounded a pale face that would make Venus green with envy. Her small and delicate form, dressed in a stola of midnight blue, seemed lithe and dextrous and almost glided down the steps. Fronto found that he was staring and wrenched his gaze away to glance at Caelius. He could quite see how the man had fallen for her charms.

Caelius’ downcast and miserable features had filled for a moment with a golden light as his eyes fell on her and, in that single moment, Fronto realised just how dangerous this woman could be.

“My dearest Cicero” Clodius announced as he reached the bottom of the steps, his sister catching up with them there. He held out his hands and clasped Cicero’s grudgingly proffered arm. “You spoke well in there; almost destroyed our case before it was even presented. I am, as ever, in awe of your oratory.”

Cicero smiled with a rictus and inclined his head slightly.

“Your prosecutors supply the ammunition. I merely use it.”

Anger flashed for a fraction of a second in Clodius’ eyes, but he forced it down and continued to smile.

“And Crassus. To have your illustrious presence gracing the court is always a joy.”

Fronto glowered at the man. Clodius was plainly the kind of man that Fronto hated most in the world: a devious thug, hiding behind a mask of civility. His attention was drawn once more to the figure now standing at the man’s side. Clodia smiled her most devastating smile at him and licked her lips. He tore his gaze quickly away from her and realised that Philopater was also watching him. What was it with these people?

Clodius nodded respectfully at Caelius.

“I am so sorry that events have come to this point. You have been like a brother to me. But then” he smiled sadly “my brother would have known better than to sleep with my sister, wouldn’t he?”

Caelius flinched and Fronto cleared his throat.

“I‘m a soldier, not a politician, and all this feigned civility is in danger of forcing my breakfast to make a reappearance and my sword arm’s beginning to itch. If we’re all done posturing, could we go our separate ways?”

Clodius laughed.

“You would be this Fronto I keep hearing of. Caesar must be a truly patient and forgiving man. But you are absolutely correct: let’s dispense with the pleasantries. My sister has a habit of involving herself in difficult and sticky situations. I would just as rather this whole affair had not occurred. Rest assured, Caelius, that, despite the best efforts of your two noble advocates, we will win the case and then you will be executed and your family will suffer grave dishonour.”

He smiled at Caelius rather unpleasantly.

“You could, of course, save us all the trouble, and take the honourable way out. I give you my word that no further motion will be made against your name if you remove the need for the trial.”

Clodia glared at her brother, but he ignored her. Fronto tried to ignore the fact that the woman’s gaze kept coming to rest on him, while the burning eyes of the Egyptian continued to bore into his skull.

Something clicked in his head in that moment. He’d been wondering why Clodius should be trying so hard to remove Caelius from the picture when it was he who pushed the trial in the first place, but the answer was obvious now. His sister was the source of the accusation and Clodius would rather have disassociated himself from the whole potentially-destructive matter had he the choice. Clodius was trying to make the problem go away in any way he could. Now Fronto really hated the man.

In a moment of insight that he would rather not have had, Fronto realised that it was a damn good job that this man and Caesar were enemies. Were they together, they could rule the world within a year with their unscrupulous methods. He flashed his teeth in an almost-smile at Clodius.

“I’d just as rather he didn’t fall on his sword quite yet. He’s staying with me and the mess would be appalling.”

Clodius frowned for a moment and then laughed.

“Very well. I have important matters to attend to. Philopater? Come!”

He bowed and, turning, strode away across the forum. The hook-nosed Egyptian nodded toward Fronto and made a strange sign with three fingers pointing at his own eyes and then at Fronto. The legate’s lip curled.

“See you soon.”

He watched Philopater until the man turned his back and then nodded to Crispus.

“Get Caelius back to the house and gather Galronus and Priscus and come meet me at the Taverna Arabia in an hour or so. We need to step up our routine if Caelius is going to live long enough to be tried. If young Cicero is at the house, bring him too. He said he’d be dropping by.”

Crispus nodded and turned to the small gang of men he currently commanded, gesturing them on and marching them back toward the Aventine. Cicero and Crassus let their gaze rest on Fronto for a while and finally Caesar’s patron pursed his lips.

“I am aware of your reputation, Fronto. With the current evidence, we can walk this trial through the way we want it. Leave matters in the hands of the lawyers and don’t do anything stupid that might give our opponents ammunition to use against us.”

Fronto grinned.

“Trust me!”

Crassus shook his head and muttered something to the elder Cicero that Fronto didn’t hear before the pair turned and strode away across the forum. Fronto watched them go, silently voicing his opinion of lawyers and politicians alike. Men like these had built the republic, yes, but then it was men like these that would destroy it too.

He almost jumped as he turned to leave and saw the startling green-blue eyes of Clodia locked on him. She had been so silent he’d forgotten she was there again.

“Can I help you?” he asked, with an audible trace of irritation.

“It would appear that my brother has left me to your tender care. It would be unseemly and dangerous for a