Marius' Mules VII: The Great Revolt Read Online Free PDF Page B

that’s not an apple for a change.’
    Ignoring the bow and retreat of the slave, Ingenuus gave himself one last critical look in the mirror and then nodded his approval before opening the door, strolling out of the room and into the corridor beyond.
    The palace was quiet, unusually quiet for this time of the morning, and Ingenuus’ superstitious mind told him that was a sign of bad times to come. Most of the staff were not officially supposed to start this early, of course, but the Proconsul slept little and light and was rarely still abed when Aurora wafted her rosy fingers across the horizon. And with Caesar being active early, it was a courageous underling who slept later and took advantage of the letter of the law.
    Squaring his shoulders, he set off on his usual morning rounds. Through a series of corridors lined with marble busts, painted in lifelike colours and recently touched-up at the general’s request he strode until he reached the front entrance to the palace and the steps down to the main street of Aquileia. The two men on guard there were perfectly turned-out and standing to attention just as he’d expected. His cavalry were all good men. Over the years he had weeded out the few who were not up to scratch and replaced them with chosen men from other mounted units, drawn by the prestige and the pay in equal amounts.
    With a nod to the two men, he turned back inside and marched on through the corridors to the office of his clerk, who was busy scribbling tiny scratched marks on a wax tablet behind a desk overburdened with documentation. The clerk only looked up as the door opened, but he was on his feet before Ingenuus came to a stop, the stylus forgotten and lying on the desk.
    ‘Good morning, prefect.’
    ‘Morning, Strabo. What’s the news today?’
    Without having to look down at his records, the clerk cleared his throat. ‘Largus and Satrius still in the hospital, sir. Largus does not seem to be throwing off the illness, but there is no blood in his sputum, so the medicus tells me it is only a matter of time and recuperation. Satrius is now hobbling, sir, but will be out of action for at least a week still, and will only be fit for light duties for a further two. You have two pending requests for leave before the campaigning season begins.’
    ‘And your opinion on those, Strabo?’
    ‘Frankly, sir, I would turn down Allidius, as his home is south of Rome and the journey time would make any leave finish perilously close to when he might be needed. Rectus is only from Cremona though, sir. He could be there and back in short order.’
    Ingenuus shook his head. ‘Cannot penalise a man on account of geography. If Allidius cannot go because we are too close to marching season, then neither can Rectus. Tell them that once the season is over I will sanction an extended leave for them both.’
    ‘Very good sir.’
    ‘Anything else?’
    ‘All fine otherwise, sir. The new bridles should arrive later today, barring unforeseen mercantile delays, and the three spare mounts were delivered yesterday by Olichus the horse trader and are now in the training school.’
    ‘Excellent.’ Ingenuus straightened. ‘Be about your business then, Strabo, and I shall see you later.’
    The man saluted and Ingenuus departed the office, leaving the door to close with a click, and strolled on. Next stop: Caesar. As he rounded a corner and found himself in the wide vestibule that led to the Proconsul’s office, lined with statues of the Julii clan and of Venus Genetrix, the family’s divine mother, he was almost knocked sideways as a slave scurried out of another side corridor. The small Spaniard - whom Ingenuus recognised vaguely from having seen around in the palace only recently - stared wide eyed and then dropped his head and rattled out a string of apparently heartfelt apologies in his thick Iberian accent.
    ‘Clumsy idiot,’ Ingenuus grumbled, sweeping aside the matter with his three fingered hand as he righted