by Ryan Lew
“Willing and waiting,” Justina said, sliding on her helmet.
Fabricius walked over to the practice swords and removed one from the holding rack. He placed his helmet on his head. “Then let us begin,” he said and thrusted his sword forward with all his might.
Chapter 46
april 22, 55 BC
Brutus was slumped in a chair when Caesar walked into the dining area of Servilia’s home unannounced. The slave had tried to make him wait, but Caesar was not a man who waited for permission to do anything. When Brutus saw him, he sat up straight as a column.
“Caesar,” Brutus said, the surprise evident in his voice.
“Good evening, Brutus. Why does late evening find you away from slumber?”
“I am just now getting home. I know how much you desire information, but I was to you tomorrow with news.”
Caesar was intrigued, eager to see if his not-so-veiled threat had born fruit. He took a seat at the table. “What news have you for me?”
“Your partner in the Triumvirate, Crassus, has desires to command army again.”
Caesar was impressed. Though the information was not news to him, it had only been spoken between he, Pompey, and Crassus. The fact that Brutus was able to discover it was a good sign. “Continue,” he said.
“Pompey is planning to call for a vote in seven days’ time to block such desire. He is concerned for Crassus’ health if he were to find battlefield.”
“Pompey and myself are of like mind in this.” That was all Brutus needed to know. The news, however, did not please him. Blocking such a deal could potentially cut off purse strings for both armies. The move made him wonder as to Pompey’s purpose.
“Pompey is recruiting support in the senate now,” Brutus added.
Though he heard Brutus, Caesar was still contemplating his options. A warrior’s mind preparing for battle. It was that mind that began to think aloud. “Crassus is relying on Pompey and I to make this happen for him,” he said. “He once defeated the slave king Spartacus in battle, yet Pompey quickly grabbed credit for history to hear. Crassus desires to be known in the annals for more than just his wealth.” He looked directly at Brutus. “I see conversation just a few short weeks ago finally bears fruit. Message must have been received by butcher’s son as well.”
“We are here to better the glory of Rome.”
Caesar cut him off. “Gratitude for information. Now, find me names of each senator that Pompey sways. I will have my time with them as well.” He stood. “Is your mother home?”
“She is in her bedroom, asleep for hours according to slaves.”
“I shall see if I can awaken her with good news of her son’s actions.”
Brutus bowed his head.
Caesar made his way across the peristyle to Servilia’s bedroom. He tapped lightly on her door. When he got no response, he knocked harder.
“Enter,” Servilia said. He had awoken her, and she was still groggy from slumber. When she saw him enter the room, she sat straight up, raised her knees to her chest, and pulled the covers up around her. Caesar entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“This is your bedroom?” Caesar said looking around. “I have never been invited.” The room was smaller than he expected, being barely large enough to fit the bed. One small window was located on the west side. The shutters had been closed to block the light. Servilia’s bed was draped in sheer silk with patterns of flowers. A vase and several grooming items rested on a small table to the right. “I thought it would be larger.”
“It is more than enough for one woman to sleep. Were there someone to join her, then yes, a larger room would be ideal.”
Caesar smiled. He wondered briefly what it would be like to live here, but quickly pushed the thought from his mind.
“What brings Caesar to my humble home at this late hour?” Servilia asked.
He stepped closer to the bed. “For each of the last few nights, I had intended to summon you to my quarters.”
“And yet, you did not.”
“No,” he said. “Because you are not someone to be summoned. You are someone to be invited with waited response.”
Servilia lowered her knees and allowed the covers to flow downward. “Is the great Caesar becoming soft in his old age?”
Caesar sat on the bed next to her. “I do miss your affections,” he said and placed his hand on her leg. “But I also miss your counsel. You are wiser than most men I call advisor.”
Servilia smiled broadly. “Gratitude, I have always hoped to be of more use to you than that of concubine.” She leaned over and kissed Caesar softly on the cheek.
“Would it be too much to ask for my guards and I to accompany you to my home this evening?”
“I think I can be persuaded. Let me gather some clothing and we can leave.” She arose and headed over to a small wardrobe against the wall. She opened the door and began to pull out clothing.
“Besides,” Caesar said. “I do not believe your son would care to hear our climaxes.”
Servilia laughed. “So, great Caesar wants more than just my counsel this evening?”
Caesar smiled. “I will accept what you wish to give this evening. And,” he added, “I hope to make this more of a permanent situation.”
Servilia turned suddenly, still holding the robe she had removed from the wardrobe. “What is meaning of statement?”
Caesar stepped closer to Servilia. He placed his hands on her arms. “I am aware I am not the only surprise visitor you had in this house recently.”
Servilia’s face showed the shock she felt. Before she could answer, Caesar continued, “I know that Livius made an appearance here not too many days past. Based on your son’s information today, I would assume your meeting with him was to exchange ideas,” he paused, “and nothing else.”
Servilia’s body stiffened. Caesar noted her stress, but instead of relishing in it, as was his nature, he relieved her of it. “I do not wish to know if anything more happened between the two of you,” he said, with more kindness than even he expected. The thought of losing her had been more uncomfortable than he anticipated. His first instinct had been to send Livius to the afterlife, and he nearly made the decision to do so, but thought better of it. Losing the butcher would mean losing his son and that would not be a wise move. Pride could not be placed before power. Caesar knew his history; men who did that had a tendency to fall hard.
“I just need to know that it is over and that you and I will be for each other,” he said.
Servilia dropped her robe and threw her arms around him.
“I have told my wife that she may remain in the villa outside of the city. She will no longer make appearance with me or for me. My heart lies elsewhere.”
“My ears have been waiting many years to hear such words come from your mouth,” Servilia said and kissed him full on the lips. He slipped his arms around her and kissed her back.
Caesar pulled back. The softness had fallen from his eyes. “I do not consider butcher a friend, but he is no enemy, as yet. As long as his son performs as promised, his family will prosper.”
“My concern is no longer for the butcher,” Servilia said. “I have the greatest man in Rome.”
Caesar kissed her again. “Bring clothes for several days. I would have you at my side and residence for more than the evening.” He let Servilia return to her packing. “I will wait for you outside. Let your son know of your whereabouts.”
Caesar walked out of the room, but left the door open. Servilia returned to her preparations. She had waited for this day for so long, and it had finally arrived. She sped up her efforts, singing as she prepared.
“May I come in?” Brutus asked.
“Yes, of course,” she replied, still packing. Brutus entered and walked near the bed. “You must continue to keep Caesar happy,” she said, as she folded her robes. “I will do my part on my end.” She stopped and looked up at her son. “As I am sure you heard conversation through thin walls.”
Brutus’ cheeks reddened. Servilia continued to pack as she spoke. “If you truly want revenge on the man who took your father from us, then you must uphold your end and provide information.”
“I will do what I can, mother,” Brutus said. He was lingering in the room.
“Is there something else?”
Brutus looked down. She waited for him to find the right words. “I was not aware Livius had made appearance here.”
Servilia stopped. “He came. It was a couple weeks ago.”
“Why did you not tell me?”
Servilia returned to packing, a little more quickly than before. “There was nothing to tell. He came over, we talked, and he left.”
“That is all?”
“Did you want more?”
“Caesar seemed to think there was more.”
Servilia walked over to her son. “Whether or not there was something more no longer matters. Recent revelations from Caesar have secured our future.” She kissed her son on the cheek, picked up her clothing, and walked out of the room. “Do not wait up.”
Chapter 47
April 28, 55 BC
Three weeks had passed since his confrontation with Alba and little had changed. Tension still filled the house, and the relationship between them was strained, at best. Livius had not been able to bring himself to talk to Servilia, and that seemed to have worked out best, as Brutus had explained Caesar and Servilia’s current relationship. He may have acted in haste with Servilia, but that didn’t change his feelings toward Alba, who he no longer viewed as a wife or confidant. Their evenings were spent in separate rooms except for dinner and sharing a bed at night. The two of them hardly saw each other.
The house itself had grown quite quiet. When Fabricius wasn’t on patrol, his nights were spent with Justina in the sparring room. Livius didn’t know why they were training so hard, but he thought it best not to ask. There was a chance it wasn’t training at all and, quite frankly, that was something he didn’t want to know. Lucilius and Atilius spent most of their time on patrol or with other soldiers, doing things young boys did at their age. Livius didn’t want to know about that either. Herminius too was away most of the time. In fact, it had been several days since Livius recalled him even being in the house. So when he walked in while he and Alba were having dinner, Livius was very happy to see him.
“Father, Mother, I have news,” Herminius said, a grand smile on his face.
“Come sit by me and share,” Alba said.
Herminius walked over to his mother. He kissed her on the cheek and sat down beside her. “Gratitude to both of you for all of the years of support you have given me. I am the man I am today because of caring actions from you both. I am set to move into my own home in a few days.”
Livius was happy for his son, not only was he moving up in the world, but it would be good for him to free himself of the tension that so filled the house as of late. “I always thought Fabricius would be first to leave from under our roof,” Livius said. “Congratulations, you have bested your brother.”
Herminius was very happy with his father’s response. Alba was not. She flashed Livius an unpleasant look. He ignored it. She turned to Herminius. “You are just starting your new position. Are you sure it wise to leave so soon?”
Livius stood, walked over to his son, and shook his hand. “If mother would have her way, all four of you would remain under roof till departed from this world.” Livius shared a laugh with his son.
Alba was not amused. “I knew the day would come when all my children would take leave. I was hoping it would be after they were long married and with children.”
Livius ignored her a second time. “Are you sure you can afford to live on your own?” he asked Herminius. “You can come and go as you please here.”
“Gratitude. I recently received much-deserved bonus for the job I am doing and expect more of that in the weeks and years to come. If I find struggle I will return, with permission, to my old room.”
Livius returned to his seat at the head of the table. “Bonus?” he questioned. “I have known Pompey many years, but have never known him to give such a treat. Maybe he has changed,”
“The bonus was not from Pompey.”
“Then who?” Livius asked, but as soon as he did, he knew the answer.
“I know you served under Pompey father and have much respect for him. I appreciate your words assisting in my position. But the future belongs to Caesar and being in the wrong camp could be costly.”
“You must be very careful in the games politicians play,” Livius cautioned. “You are young to the ways of these cunning men. Guile is their handiwork.”
“I do what is best for myself, best for Rome,” he said. “I do not feel my hand forced. This family will rise to prominence whether desired or not.”
“Finally someone in this household sees benefits of such actions,” Alba chimed in. “I long to be revered in the town square.”
“We are not looked down upon,” Livius said frankly.
“No, but higher status would be a nice change.”
Livius grew grim. “I respect that you make your own decisions,” he said to Herminius. “I hope you will learn from Brutus and keep friend near.”
“I will, father,” Herminius said. “Now I must go prepare.” He stood and kissed his mother on the cheek. She forced a smile. He shook his father’s hand again. Livius gave him a firm grip and a father’s grin. Herminius smiled back and left the room.
Livius turned to Alba. He was disgusted with what he saw. “You long for status? Since when? I married you, not Servilia, because you were not obsessed with such a thing.”
“When we were young it did not matter to me. Now, I have children leaving nest. I have longed for respect for several years now, and with Fabricius as a centurion and Herminius assisting Caesar, we may reach my goals.”
Livius did not answer.
“Speaking of that other woman, I assume communications have ended?”
“She sent note several moons ago that we should not continue talking,” Livius said without looking at Alba. “I respect her wishes. She is now a key aid to Caesar.”
“Caesar seeks a whore for direction? I must go tell Herminius that he chooses the wrong side.”
Livius stood and was about to leave. He turned to Alba. “She is more intelligent than you give her credit. You have your wish fulfilled. Servilia and I will not happen and I am committed to my loving wife.” Alba smiled, but tonight, Livius would not share her bed.
Chapter 48
APRIL 29, 55 BC
“Ever so anxious you are,” Fabricius said.
As usual, Justina was in full battle gear. Ready and waiting for him to arrive at the sparring room. She had made great progress in the last few weeks. More even than most of the recruits he had helped train, so he said. When Justina was in the training room, she was of single purpose. Not only did she endure what Fabricius put her through, she craved it. She practiced on her own, so much so that except for time in this room, the two saw little of each other. In fact, the house didn’t see much of Justina at all. Dinners and chores, otherwise her time was spent practicing.
Their mother, for the most part, ignored her. Their father seemed to have decided it was his daughter’s way of dealing with Antonia’s death and it would subside in time, but it did not appear as if that time was coming in the near future. Justina stayed up late and practiced, got up early in the morning to do her chores, then returned to the sword. While Fabricius was impressed, he was also a little apprehensive.
“Sometimes I wonder whether it is me you are excited to see, or the ‘freedom’ that you are learning.”
Justina smiled, then gave Fabricius a long, passionate kiss. “I do get ever so lonely with my big brother playing army while I just swing sword all alone.” She tapped him on the chest, then returned to being all business. “Can we begin?”
Fabricius walked over to the rack of practice swords and drew one from the holder. “You ha
ve done great work, Justina. You are driven and your skills have improved dramatically.” Justina was pleased with the assessment. “Your desire for this freedom has me curious though. This man who spoke to you, not in dream, but in vision. I wonder, once you have your freedom, will you seek him out?”
Justina laughed. “You needn’t worry. He is father’s age. I prefer someone of younger years.” She winked. “Now tell me of my skills again.”
It was Fabricius’ turn to laugh. “Your skills are strong. I can see improvement from only a few short weeks ago. I would go as far as to say you could best some lesser recruits.”
“I do not wish to best recruits destined to see their fate on the battle field. Only true freedom is what I desire, and that will make me as tough as you, centurion.”
Fabricius laughed again. “Do you have any idea how many years it has taken for my skills to develop? It is not a matter of weeks,” he said, “but years.” Out of nowhere, Fabricius swung his sword at her. The movement caught her off guard, and she was barely able to block the blow. He stepped into her and swung again. This time, she managed a block but did not pay attention to his footwork. He caught her leg, and when she transferred her weight, he easily pulled it out from under her. She fell hard on the floor.
Now she was mad. “Your advantage is your mind and your desire,” Fabricius said. “You are smart and will be able to outwit many opponents.” He offered her his hand. She took it and when he pulled her up, she turned and thrust her sword at him. Fabricius easily stepped out of the way and slammed his sword hard into her back as she passed. The blow made her wince in pain.
“But you are still far too aggressive. Once we teach recruits how to be animals, we try to harness that anger and aggression so they may become true warriors.” Justina turned to face him. She wasn’t about to show the pain he had inflicted. “You need to slow down. Plan your attacks. Read your opponent. It is not always about the gladius.” He paused. “You have seen many bruises on your brother. I do not wish those same in your lessons. A few minor scrapes are all I offer.”