Fortune's Favorites by Colleen McCullough Page B

man, his physique had set with the coming of his middle thirties into its final mold-thick-necked, bull-like, formidable. And in some ways this was a pity, for it endowed Sertorius with a bovine look entirely at variance with the power and quality of his mind. He was Gaius Marius's cousin, and had inherited far more of Marius's personal and military brilliance than had, for instance, Marius's son. The eye had been obliterated in a skirmish just before the Siege of Rome, but as it was his left one and he was right-handed, its loss had not slowed him down as a fighter. Scar tissue had turned his pleasant face into something of a caricature, in that its right side was still most pleasant while its left leered a horrible contradiction.
    So it was that Scipio underestimated him, did not respect or understand him. And looked at him now in surprise.
    Sertorius tried. “Asiagenus, think! How well do you feel our men will fight for us if they're allowed to get too friendly with the enemy?”
    “They'll fight because they're ordered to fight.”
    “I don't agree. Why do you think Sulla built his swimming hole, if not to suborn our troops? He didn't do it for the sake of his own men! It's a trap, and you're falling into it!”
    “We are under a truce, and the other side is as Roman as we are,” said Scipio Asiagenus stubbornly.
    “The other side is led by a man you ought to fear as if he and his army had been sown from the dragon's teeth! You can't give him one single little inch, Asiagenus. If you do, he will end in taking all the miles between here and Rome.”
    “You exaggerate,” said Scipio stiffly.
    “You're a fool!” snarled Sertorius, unable not to say it.
    But Scipio was not impressed by the display of temper either. He yawned, scratched his chin, looked down at his beautifully manicured nails. Then he looked up at Sertorius looming over him, and smiled sweetly. “Do go away!” he said.
    “I will that! Right away!” Sertorius snapped. “Maybe Gaius Norbanus can make you see sense!”
    “Give him my regards,” Scipio called after him, then went back to studying his nails.
    So Quintus Sertorius rode for Capua at the gallop, and there found a man more to his taste than Scipio Asiagenus. The loyalest of Marians, Norbanus was no fanatical adherent of Carbo's; after the death of Cinna, he had only persisted in his allegiance because he loathed Sulla far more than he did Carbo.
    “You mean that chinless wonder of an aristocrat actually has concluded an armistice with Sulla?” asked Norbanus, voice squeaking as it uttered that detested name.
    “He certainly has. And he's permitting his men to fraternize with the enemy,” said Sertorius steadily.
    “Why did I have to be saddled with a colleague as stupid as Asiagenus?” wailed Norbanus, then shrugged. “Well, that is what our Rome is reduced to, Quintus Sertorius. I'll send him a nasty message which he will ignore, but I suggest you don't return to him. I hate to think of you as a captive of Sulla's-he'd find a way to murder you. Find something to do that will annoy Sulla.”
    “Eminent good sense,” said Sertorius, sighing. “I'll stir up trouble for Sulla among the towns of Campania. The townspeople all declared for Sulla, but there are plenty of men who aren't happy about it.” He looked disgusted. “Women, Gaius Norbanus! Women! They only have to hear Sulla's name and they go limp with ecstasy. It's the women decided which side these Campanian towns chose, not the men.”
    “Then they ought to set eyes on him,” said Norbanus, and grimaced. “I believe he looks like nothing human.”
    “Worse than me?”
    “A lot worse, so they say.”
    Sertorius frowned. “I'd heard something of it, but Scipio wouldn't include me in the treating party, so I didn't see him, and Scipio made no reference to his appearance.” He laughed grimly. “Oh, I'll bet that hurts him, the pretty mentula! He was so vain! Like a woman.”
    Norbanus grinned. “Don't like the sex