"Who has led you here? Let that man step forward!" a voice carried over the field.

Faces turned to Ahenobarbus and he smiled mirthlessly as he made his way through the ranks to the front. The sun shone and his vision seemed unnaturally clear, as if the edges of things had sharpened.

Ahenobarbus stepped out from his men, alone. He felt the eyes of thousands on him as the three horsemen rode closer. Gently, he drew his sword and took a deep breath. Let them come in and get his answer, he thought to himself. His heart hammered, but he felt calm and strangely detached as Julius Caesar glared down at him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Julius roared, red-faced in anger. "What is your name?"

Ahenobarbus almost took a step back in surprise. "Ahenobarbus," he replied, stifling the urge to add "sir." He felt the men behind jostle and readied himself to give the order to attack.

"How dare you bare your sword to me, Ahenobarbus? How dare you! You have abused the trust placed in you. Be thankful none of your men or mine have been killed or I would see you hanged before sunset."

Ahenobarbus blinked in confusion. "I have orders to-"

"Orders from whom? Pompey? By what right is he still Dictator in my city? I stand before you as a loyal Roman and you mutter about your orders. Do you want to be killed? Who do you think you are to be throwing away so many lives, Ahenobarbus? Are you a lawmaker, a senator? No, you've been let down, General. You should not be here." Julius removed his gaze from Ahenobarbus in disgust, raising his head to address the guards who watched him. "I am returning to my city to stand as consul once more. I break no laws in doing so. I have no quarrel with you and I will not shed the blood of my people unless I am forced to."

Ignoring Ahenobarbus, Julius walked his mount along the line, his accompanying riders moving in formation with him. For a split second, Ahenobarbus considered shouting for an attack, but then he caught the eye of one of the riders and saw him grin and shake his head as if he had heard the thought. Ahenobarbus remembered that Caesar had called him "General" and the words died in his throat.

Julius's voice echoed across them. "I am within my rights to have you disarmed and sold into slavery for what you have done today. I see bared swords and spears in your ranks even now! Do not force my hand, gentlemen. I am a loyal general of Rome. I am the commander of Gaul and in my person I am the Senate and the law. Do not think to raise your weapons against me."

Every man in the guards stood appalled as his words washed over them. Ahenobarbus saw them lower swords and spears as Julius wheeled his mount and came back along the line.

"I have not come back from ten years of war to struggle against my own people here. I tell you that you have been misled. I give you my word that not one of you will be killed if you put away your weapons now." He swept his gaze over the men. "You have a choice, gentlemen. I will treat you with honor if you make good your mistake. Look around you. I do not need to be merciful. After this, I will consider you traitors to Rome."

He had reached Ahenobarbus once more and the guard was forced to look up into the sun to meet his eyes. Julius was dark against the light as he waited for a response.

"Well? Your idiocy has brought them here," Julius said softly. "Will you see them all killed for nothing?" Mutely, Ahenobarbus shook his head. "Then stand them down and bring the officers to me, Ahenobarbus. We must discuss the terms of the surrender."

"You did break a law when you crossed the Rubicon, sir," Ahenobarbus said stubbornly.

Julius's eyes flashed. "And Dictatorships are meant to be temporary. Sometimes a man must act according to his conscience, General," he replied.

Ahenobarbus looked away at his men for a moment. "I have your word that there will be no punishment?" he said.

Julius did not hesitate. "I will not shed Roman blood, General. Not unless I must. You have my word."

Being addressed as an equal was such a small thing, but the urge to throw away his life had faded like a memory. Ahenobarbus nodded. "Very well, sir. I will stand down."

"Give me your sword," Julius said.

The two men locked eyes for a moment before Ahenobarbus held it up and Julius's hand closed over the scabbard. The symbolic gesture was seen by all the guards.

"The right choice, at last," Julius said, quietly, before cantering back to his own lines.

Pompey stood on the docks at Ostia and looked back in the direction of Rome. The port town was quiet and he wondered if the inhabitants understood what they were seeing. It was possible, but over his time in the Senate he had come to realize that there were thousands of citizens who barely noticed the work of their masters. Their lives went on just the same. After all, no matter who was consul, the bread had to be baked and the fish brought in.

The last of the merchant ships crackled into flame behind him, making him turn and look out to sea. There were lives who would be affected, he thought. The owners would be beggared at a stroke, to make sure that Caesar would not have a fleet to follow before Pompey was ready. Even at a distance, the roar of flames was impressive, and Pompey watched as they reached the sail and engulfed the tarry cloth in an instant. The small ship began to settle and he hoped his men had the sense to get well clear on the boats before she sank.

Three sturdy triremes waited for the final members of the Senate and Pompey himself. They rocked in the swell as the great oars were greased in their locks and checked for fouling. The wind was running out to sea with the tide. It was fitting that Pompey should be the last to leave, and he knew it was time, but he couldn't break the mood that held him on shore.

Had there ever been a choice? He had thought himself clever when he sent the order for Julius to return. Any other general would have come with just a few guards and Pompey would have made a quick, neat end to it. Even now, he could not be sure why Julius had gambled everything on his rush south. Regulus had obviously failed and Pompey assumed he had died trying to fulfill his last orders. Perhaps the man's clumsy attempt had given Julius the truth of his master. He could not imagine Regulus breaking under torture, but perhaps that was foolishness. Experience had taught him that any man could be broken in enough time. It was just necessary to find the levers into his soul. Even so, he would not have thought there was a lever made to open Regulus.

Pompey saw the last boat from his ship bump against the quayside and Suetonius jump onto the docks. He watched as the younger man marched up the hill, stiff with self-importance. Pompey turned back toward the city he could feel in the distance. Ahenobarbus had not come and Pompey doubted he still lived. It had been a blow to lose the men he had with him, but if he had slowed Julius at all, it would have been worth it. Pompey could not believe how difficult it had been to uproot the senators from their homes. He had been tempted to abandon the endless crates of their possessions on the quayside for the merchant sailors to pick through. Their wives and children had been bad enough, but he had drawn a line at more than three slaves to each family, and hundreds had been sent back to the city. Every ship and trireme for a hundred miles up and down the coast had been called in, and only a few were left empty and burnt.

Pompey smiled tightly to himself. Even Julius could not conjure a fleet out of nothing. Pompey's army would have nearly a year to prepare for the invasion and then, well, let them come after that.

As Suetonius approached, Pompey noted the high polish on his armor and approved. The senator had made himself indispensable over the previous weeks. In addition, Pompey knew his hatred of Caesar was absolute. It was good to have a man who could be trusted, and Pompey knew that Suetonius would never be one of those who questioned his orders.