Emperor: The Gates of Rome E#1 by Conn Iggulden Page A

stubble.
"Where does safety lie for my wife and my son? Do I throw in my house to the wolf or the snake?"
Silence answered him and he shook his head slowly. He rose and kissed Aurelia, imagining just for one moment more that, if her eyes opened, someone he knew would be looking out. Then he left quietly, shutting the door softly behind him.
When Tubruk walked his watch that evening, the last of the candles had guttered out and the rooms were dark. Julius still sat in his chair, but his eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell slowly, with a soft whistle of air from his nose. Tubruk nodded to himself, pleased he was getting some rest from worry.

The following morning, Julius ate with the two boys, a small breaking of the fast with bread, fruit, and a warm tisane to counter the dawn chill. The depressive thoughts of the day before had been put aside and he sat straight, his gaze clear.
"You look healthy and strong," he said to the pair of them. "Renius is turning you into young men."
They grinned at each other for a second.
"Renius says we will soon be fit enough for battle training. We have shown we can stand heat and cold and have begun to find our strengths and weaknesses. All this is internal, which he says is the foundation for external skill." Gaius spoke with animation, his hands moving slightly with his words.
Both boys were clearly growing in confidence, and Julius felt a pang for a moment that he was not able to see more of their growth. Looking at his son, he wondered if he would come home to a stranger one day.
"You are my son. Renius has trained many, but never a son of mine. You will surprise him, I think." Julius looked at Gaius's incredulous expression, knowing the boy was not used to praise or admiration.
"I will try to. Marcus will surprise him too, I expect."
Julius did not look at the other boy at the table, although he felt his eyes. As if he were not present, he answered, wanting the point to be remembered and annoyed at Gaius's attempt to bring his friend into the conversation.
"Marcus is not my son. You carry my name and my reputation with you. You alone."
Gaius bowed his head, embarrassed and unable to hold his fathers strangely compelling gaze. "Yes, Father," he muttered, and continued to eat.
Sometimes he wished there were other children, brothers or sisters to play with and to carry the burden of his father's hopes. Of course, he would not give up the estate to them, that was his alone and always had been, but occasionally he felt the pressure as an uncomfortable weight. His mother especially, when she was quiet and placid, would croon to him that he was all the children she had been allowed, one perfect example of life. She often told him that she would have liked daughters to dress and pass on her wisdom to, but the fever that had struck her at his birth had taken that chance away.
Renius came into the warm kitchen. He wore open sandals with a red soldier's tunic and short leggings that ended on his calves, stretched tight over almost obscenely large muscles, the legacy of life as an infantryman in the legions. Despite his age, he seemed to burn with health and vitality. He halted in front of the table, his back straight and his eyes bright and interested.
"With your permission, sir, the sun is rising and the boys must run five miles before it clears the hills."
Julius nodded and the two boys stood quickly, waiting for his dismissal.
"Go—train hard," he said, smiling. His son looked eager, the other—there was something else there in those dark eyes and brows. Anger? No, it was gone. The pair raced off and the two men were once again left alone. Julius indicated the table.
"I hear you are intending to begin battle school with them soon."
"They are not strong enough yet; they may not be this year, but I am not just a fitness instructor to them, after all."
"Have you given any thought to continuing their training after the year contract is up?" Julius asked, hoping his casual manner masked his