Marius' Mules: Prelude to War by S.J.A. Turney

thoughts churned. What was Saufeius doing here? He was with Paetus these days, part of his crowd. He should be at Lanuvio. He frowned and rubbed his temple.
    ‘Saufeius, what are you doing here?’
    The hireling simply shrugged, wiping his blade on a rag and sliding it back into his sheath. ‘Apologies, Domine. Master Paetus sent me back to Bovillae to buy boletus mushrooms and Caecuban wine. The market in Lanuvio is sadly lacking in quality goods, and Paetus reckoned to know the best shop here for such items.’ Saufeius cast his eyes downwards apologetically. ‘I am afraid that while I was alone, I slipped into the tavern for a drink in violation of my orders.’
    Milo stared at him, his frown only deepening. Something here was wrong, but it was hard to work out what in this mess. Still, whatever had happened, Clodius was dead and Milo’s men had suffered but minor troubles. A resounding victory and one that could only be of benefit. Saufeius reached down towards the body in the gutter, but Milo waved at him.
    ‘Leave it there. And Lanuvio, I fear, will have to do without their new priest for another week or two. I believe it’s time we returned to Rome. There will be much to do. And you, Saufeius, should ride for Lanuvio and tell Paetus and the rest to head back to the city at their earliest convenience.’
    Saufeius nodded and straightened, risking one last look down at the pulp that had been Clodius. All was well.
     
    * * *
     
    Paetus leaned back against the wall on the walkway of the Tabularium on the Capitoline hill, peering out of one of the arches that looked down along the forum and the sacred way. Saufeius sat at the next arch, mirroring him, as the pair watched the black roiling smoke drift across Rome like a portent of dreadful things, smothering the city in its dark embrace.
    ‘What will happen next?’
    Paetus glanced across at his friend’s question and shrugged. ‘More violence; more destruction.’
    They had watched with detached coldness as that day - following their return from Bovillae - Rome had exploded into riotous violence on a scale previously undreamed. Clodius’ smashed and ruined body had been brought back to the city by the slaves of the senator Sextus Teidius, who’d happened to pass along the Via Appia mere hours after the clash.
    The corpse had been laid out on the public rostrum by Clodius’ supporters for all to see the horrible things that had been done to it. Milo had brushed aside all accusations that morning, and had been kept too busy to pry into the business of his men, and so Paetus and Saufeius had watched events unfold from this lofty perch. Despite Milo’s confidence that he was freed of a troublesome enemy and would easily rise above this, Paetus was starting to doubt it. Important names were now calling out in support of Clodius and denouncing Milo as a murderer. Big names . Names even Milo couldn’t easily fob off. And the violence of the killing had brought out even many of those nobles who had hated Clodius and forced them to condemn the deed.
    Rome had never been so close to tearing itself apart.
    The pair sitting in the Tabularium had watched in astonishment as good citizens of Rome ran amok, invading the senate house, smashing the seats and tables and forming a crude pyre. Then, in a move that no one could have predicted or condoned, the populace of Rome had burned the body of a man it had previously hated on a makeshift pyre inside the sacred senate’s curia! Within the hour the building that was the heart of Rome’s government was ablaze and the more forward-thinking of the populace were filling buckets with water and doing their best to stop the flames spreading to the rest of the forum.
    ‘Rome’s in danger,’ Saufeius noted.
    ‘Rome will settle in time. But something has begun here today and, while I would do it all again the very same way, I cannot say I am comfortable with the possible long-term results of our actions, Saufeius.’
    ‘Do you