Vincent would never learn.
So that was that.
Rome was under control and with its rightful ruler popularly and sanely in place. The rest of the empire’s knowledge of the incident was reduced to mere rumors spread by traveling citizens. Santino and I had accepted Caligula’s offer to remain as bodyguards for him, as did Helena, who would join us when she recovered. It wasn’t so much a bodyguard position, but as agents he could call on for “special” assignments.
It was the best posting I’d ever had because Caligula hasn’t asked us to do anything yet, except for the occasional appearance in the Curia, dressed in our full military gear. The rules of the pomerium were restricted to swords, spears, and shields, so our rifles fell through a loop hole that allowed us to carry them.
Caligula was also sympathetic to my desires to care for Helena, and knew three would be better than two on any assignment he sent us on. With that in mind, he told Helena, on one of his occasional visits, to take her time healing. Other bonuses included our housing assignment, an income that easily put us in the equestrian class, those wealthy Roman businessmen who weren’t part of the patrician senatorial class, and invitations to numerous dinner parties, most of which Caligula himself invited us to.
Which is where we were headed now, only this one wasn’t hosted by Caligula, but by his sister.
Agrippina.
I hadn’t told anyone about what I saw that day Santino and I were captured. About how she had possibly set us up, and how she had been present at the moment we were captured. The evidence was circumstantial, as Claudius could have been lying about sending her as a messenger just to get a rise out of me, and I still couldn’t be sure it had actually been her smooching him after I had been hit over the head.
Besides. Who would I tell? Caligula wouldn’t believe me. He seemed completely secure in the notion that Agrippina was a sweet little angel, and now a mother to boot. If I told Helena, she would have crawled out of bed, dragged herself to Agrippina’s home, and ripped her throat out with her bare hands. While the latter outcome was somewhat appealing, I couldn’t condemn someone on circumstantial evidence alone.
So, arm in arm, the three of us slowly made our way to the Domus Augusti, where Agrippina had taken up residence with her brother. Passing through the familiar gate, and two familiar Praetorians now back in their traditional white togas, we made our way into the house of Augustus.
While, it was no longer the same house Augustus had built after Bordeaux had destroyed much of it; Caligula kept its original name, a tribute to his great grandfather. While the exterior had been reconstructed beautifully by Claudius, Caligula removed every piece of callous art he had adorned it with. The end result was the same kind of austere, yet beautiful home it had originally been. Met at the door by a house slave, something I’d never get used to but could do little to change, we were escorted through the house and into the dining room.
The room was devoid of any modern semblance of formal dining accoutrements or ware. Instead of chairs, there were low couches arranged in a U, with tables laid out in front of them. Lying on couches while eating dinner was every lazy man’s dream, and after experiencing it a few times, I never wanted to go back. All the Romans needed was a television with some Monday Night Football, and life would be complete.
We mingled with increasingly familiar people. I chatted with Varus while Helena and Santino struck up a conversation with an off duty Quintilius and his wife. We didn’t have too much time for small talk as Caligula and Agrippina arrived only a few minutes later. Once they were announced, we made our way to the dining tables and got comfortable.
Agrippina seated herself at the head of the table with Caligula and her young son, Nero. Santino, Helena, and I were seated at their right, a place of honor, Varus and Quintilius directly across from us to their left, with the rest of the guests scattered throughout the couches. As soon as everyone was settled, house slaves began bringing out dozens of various steaming dishes.
The dinner had been delicious, and the evening fun. Chicken, beef, vegetables of all kinds, grains, and fruits for dessert, it was a feast fit for kings, and I wondered how these Romans stayed in such good shape eating so much all the time. I already felt my waistline beginning to tighten and I had to ptomise Helena that I’d hit up the Campus Martius next week for a workout.
With dinner completed, the evening slowed down to alcohol induced conversation. I found myself pretty drunk, lounging on my back, and munching on fruit Helena was playfully lowering into my mouth. She told me to close my eyes while she found something new to feed me, and as a result I felt a syrupy liquid spill down my chin. I opened my eyes to see Helena pouring honey from a cup. I laughed and knocked the cup away, gently pushing her into Santino. He was talking to a young, pretty, Roman woman and glared at me when Helena interrupted his conversation. I couldn’t help but laugh again as I rolled onto my back, and Helena moved to lie next to me, her head on my stomach.
I stared up at the ceiling feeling drunk, glutinous, and happy for the first time in years. The world I had left had been filled with nothing but war, one that had no end in sight. Albert Einstein once said, “I know not what weapons World War III will be fought with, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones”. He was probably right, and I knew it was only a matter of time before someone started the chain reaction that would end it all. Ancient Rome, however, I knew had a future, and maybe with my help, a better one. We’d done too much to the timeline as it was, so there was no sense resting on our laurels now and not trying to help.
A future aside, it was also the first time since I was a kid I could honestly admit I had everything. With Helena at my side, my best friend Santino at my back, and the emperor of Rome as my employer, I couldn’t find much to complain about. I sighed, laid back, and drank in the moment.
It wasn’t until I heard the innocent giggle of a small child that I remembered life was never perfect. Out of the corner of my eye I saw young Nero on the ground in a corner. I also saw a dozen attendants playing with and spoiling him right in front of me. It gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Friends and family,” Caligula suddenly announced, struggling to sit up on his couch, arms spread at his sides to maintain his balance. “I am so very glad you could join my sister and I for dinner tonight, and a wonderful dinner it was, I might add.”
Many of the guests offered their own positive sentiments to Agrippina, as though she had anything to do with the actual cooking of the meal.
“I, myself, am not quite finished,” Caligula announced, slurring his words drunkenly, still munching on part of his entree, “but I have an announcement to make. A very important one that will affect the continuation of my imperial reign.”
I glanced over at Santino and Helena, the latter’s expression looking confused, while the former was still trying to cop a feel. I gave her a shrug. I was beyond making predictions based on historical precedence at this point.
“My lovely sister and I have been discussing events at great length, and I have come to a decision. I hereby announce that due to my lack of children, as of this afternoon and recorded in my living will, Agrippina’s son, Nero, will succeed me as Caesar in the circumstances of my death. Should that happen before he reaches the age of fourteen, Agrippina shall rule in regency till the day he is.”
There was a chorus of applause and adulation from the guests present. As for me, my jaw practically hit the floor. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After all we’ve gone though and all we’ve changed, establishing Caligula as potentially one of Rome’s greatest emperors, Nero would still take over and ruin everything. I looked over at the young child, and even at six months of age, I saw the beginnings of the man he would become, the servants continuing to pamper and spoil the boy.
I looked over at my two companions, who were just as confused as I was, but obviously not truly grasping the implications. Even Varus, sitting across the table from my position looked as
confused as the three of us. If he didn’t know, this must have been a recent decision.
I looked back at Caligula, heartened by his vitality and youth, knowing it would be a long time before Nero could actually become Caesar. Caligula was so much more popular and protected than ever, it would take an act of the gods to bring him down. I laid my head back down against a couch cushion and continued to stare at the ceiling in comfort.
I felt myself falling asleep when I heard the clatter of a plate beside me. I peeked through my right eye and saw Caligula eating a small, dark brown mushroom from the plate that must have fallen to the floor in his drunken stupor. I sniveled at the sight as mushrooms were never my favorite. Something about eating fungus bugged me. They always seemed to…
My train of thought stopped as a word association sprang to mind. Something about Caligula and mushrooms should have been important to me, but I was too drunk to remember. Claudius. Mushrooms. Caligula. Agrippina.
Poison.
I tried to get up and warn him, but my mind and body were too slow. I watched as he took a bite, glancing at it curiously, but pleasingly, before his eyes tightened in confusion and concern. He dropped the mushroom and his hands grasped at his throat while a white, frothy substance foamed at his mouth. Most dinner guests were still elated and discussing Caligula’s announcement but when he fell to the floor and convulsed from a seizure, every guest rushed to their feet, and ran to his side.
All except Agrippina.
She was still seated on her couch, looking down at the emperor’s shaking form, but only for a moment before she turned her head to look right at me. A slow smile crept across her face, and I thought I saw her shaking slightly in laughter. I looked back at Nero, and back at her, whose smile broadened just slightly before she turned back to Caligula, now in horrified sister mode.
“What’s happening to him?” Helena asked, bewilderment in her voice.
“We have to go,” I said. “Now.”
“What? Why?” Santino asked, looking from me to Caligula and back and forth.
“Come on!” I almost yelled, grabbing Helena and helping her off the couch. Pulling her close to make a quick getaway, I was about to start announcing politely that we were leaving, but realized everyone’s attention was elsewhere. Only Varus, holding his friend and emperor’s head in his arms, paid us any attention. He looked angry, but he knew as well as I did that fingers might soon be pointed in our direction. His look suggested he felt we were innocent, but I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was that in a place like Rome it was best to avoid getting caught than to stick around with even the slightest bit of suspicion directed towards you.
I nodded to my friend, and hauled Helena out of the room, Santino catching up to help me with her.
Not even to the house gate, realization seemed to dawn on her. “We didn’t actually change anything, did we? What you said before. About fate finding a way to set things straight.”
I thought about it.
It made sense. With Claudius out of the picture, the only logical thing for fate to do was to have Agrippina rule while she waited for Nero to turn fourteen. She had practically ruled alongside Claudius anyway.
I thought about it
No, I couldn’t buy that. I wouldn’t. There was no way some natural force controlled the outcome of all living things. I had free will. I had a choice. I controlled my own fate, and so did Agrippina. We had to stop the madman I knew Nero would become from ever taking the throne. For all I knew, the current situation would make things far worse than I could possibly imagine.
“No,” I said, thinking hard about what to do. “We’re fucking changing things.”
I sifted through every shred of knowledge I had about ancient Rome. There had to be something we could do. Both Caligula and Claudius may be dead, and with it Rome’s chances of a bright future, but there must be someone who can help. I cross referenced as many dates, names and events as I could in my mind to try and find someone.
I could only think of one man. Only one man in the entirety of the Roman Empire could have a positive effect on the course of history. He was the only one because he’d done it before. He’d taken an empire on the brink of collapse and realigned it back towards greatness.
Vespasian.
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The Last Roman p-1 Page 42