All Roads Lead to Rome (The Praetorian Series Book 4)

by Edward Crichton

  I looked up, taking note of our position within a residential district of indistinct repute and without much character. It was just one unremarkable neighborhood among hundreds in the city, filled with square buildings with blank façades. Residents were everywhere, crowding the narrow streets, pushing on the perimeter of Agrippina’s Praetorians that encased us like a solid wall. The residents were unhelpful and Agrippina’s Praetorians were also silent, offering no advice on how to act on Agrippina’s question.

  I raised a hand and pointed south. “Let’s head around the back side of the hill first. Maybe we’ll find something near the Temple of Lupercal.”

  Agrippina nodded and flicked her hand, commanding the Praetorians to move out. “A sound theory. My Praetorians know the boundaries of the pomerium well; they will lead us along its path.”

  I didn’t bother to respond as we fell into step with her Praetorians as they pushed the throng of civilians around us aside, carving a path for us. We continued along at an even clip, those who refused to get out of our way ending up on the ground or pushed out of the way. Agrippina graciously helped the first woman who fell, but aided no other after her, and I didn’t bother either.

  We were just rounding the southern tip of the hill, the Circus Maximus off to our left and stretching for what seemed like miles along the back side of the Palatine Hill, when I realized we were already quite close to the Temple of Lupercal. When I’d first found myself exiting that small temple years ago, I’d emerged from a secondary entrance thanks to a recent renovation project that had deposited us near the Caelian Hill. That entrance had been closed soon after the cave had collapsed, and I suspected the main entrance today existed exactly where it would be should I ever return home.

  I glanced at Agrippina as we walked, noticing for the first time how purposeful her stride was. She surged onward, her shoulders hunched and her head sticking forward with silent purpose. It was a surprising posture for someone I thought determined but patient to discover answers in a timely, if not pertinent, manner.

  She noticed my attention and looked at me with a hard expression. “Do you sense something, Jacob?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Sense something? No, not really. Why do you ask it like that?”

  “It is simply how you appeared,” she answered, not missing a single stride.

  The tightness around my eyes slackened, and I felt that was a pretty good answer, although I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t. Again, deep down, a questioning curiosity and innate distrust of those with things to hide bubbled its way into my mind, ordering me to push my line of inquiry, but then I felt the orb at my waist and thought better of it

  “Sorry,” I replied. “I was just curious if more had been excavated within the Temple of Lupercal after I left Rome last time. It’s where Caligula found the blue orb, so I thought, maybe, you found the red orb later.”

  Agrippina threw up a hand and her Praetorians halted. She stopped too, but I almost stumbled after trying to stop just as quickly myself. She reached out both hands to steady my shoulders, smiling an ineffably cute and innocent smile at me. “Jacob, for what reason would I have to conceal it from you if I had?” She asked as she rubbed my arms. “That is an idea with little sense. No, the temple was sealed by Caligula once everything you had lost there had been recovered, and I have respected his decree.”

  I worked my mouth to the left, considering her words. “You’re not lying?”

  Her smile returned. “I assure you, Jacob. I am not. It is your destiny to find the red orb, not mine.”

  I smiled at her reassurance and held her gaze for a few seconds, searching her face for any sign of deception but finding none. She seemed aware of my inspection and allowed me to analyze her for a moment, but then she finally pulled away and ordered her troops to move out. Once we were all moving again, I found myself feeling considerably better about this whole thing. Maybe everything would work out perfectly well after all. Agrippina had certainly opened my eyes to bigger and better things before, so maybe it was finally my time to just reach out and take it.

  ***

  Marching past the Circus Maximus had only taken a few minutes. It certainly was a large structure, although not quite as imposing as I’d always thought it’d be, but despite the grand arena’s majestic, soaring, and lengthy façade, it was the last thing on my mind as we continued along the path, my senses keen, my situational awareness honed, searching for… something. I still didn’t know what I was looking for, but Agrippina was convinced that I’d, loosely translated, “know it when I saw it.” Her confidence was invigorating, to be sure, but it seemed completely misplaced as we approached the Temple of Lupercal, the place I assumed had to be some kind of hotbed of paranormal or cosmic activity.

  Our Praetorian escorts stopped outside the temple as though already ordered to do so but I paid them no mind. I simply turned and faced the temple, which looked more like a hobbit hole than anything else. Built into the side of the hill, the only part of it I could see was its rectangular entranceway that was flanked by a pair of simple, Doric columns. Like an Egyptian tomb buried beneath one of the great pyramids, a staircase would lead worshipers deeper into the hill before entering the domed temple within, and beneath that, the secret pre-ancient temple I had arrived in.

  Its purpose was still a mystery since Caligula had sealed it and Agrippina had left it sealed, but I hadn’t seen anything like it in my hallucination, so I assumed it wasn’t important. Perhaps it was just something Romulus’ supporters had crafted for him later. Or something built in the early years following his death. I didn’t know, and certainly didn’t care.

  I placed my hands on my hips and waited, hoping something, anything, would come to me. But nothing did. I worked my jaw left and then right in frustration, trying to will a clue into existence, but when nothing happened, I dropped my arms, feeling my right one brush against the strap of my shoulder bag. I glanced down, noticing it at my side, and remembered I had the orb within.

  Willing to try anything, I reached into the bag and carefully removed it. I no longer bothered trying to avoid skin contact anymore, as it no longer seemed to do anything, and when I brought it out to eye level, I was once again met with the swirling white clouds over a blue background, making the orb appear much like a miniature planet with circulating weather patterns.

  I shook my head and tried to focus, closing my eyes so that I could divert all my attention to the orb and its mystical and mind altering energies that I felt even now but had grown resistant to. No longer did it call out to me, beckoning me, enticing me. Now, it seemed little more than a pretty trinket of great value, one that soothed my seething emotions, a function I often appreciated in recent days.

  Yet, try as I did, nothing happened.

  The orb remained inert, the cave that housed the Temple of Lupercal remained silent, and I felt no different than I had a few minutes ago. Opening my eyes, I confirmed that everything seemed the same. In a bout of frustration, I thrust the orb back into my satchel and started to move.

  Agrippina caught up a second later. “You feel no different?”

  “No,” I confirmed, not in the mood for further conversation.

  “Most odd,” she said, as though thinking out loud. “I was certain the blue orb would draw you to the red one. It was the key to entering Merlin’s realm, and I thought it would do the same today…”

  Even though I was verging on hopelessness, the bleakness in Agrippina’s usually chipper voice helped me find it within myself to act as a supportive force for once, and I found myself wrapping an arm around her shoulders supportively. “That’s quitter talk. We haven’t even gone around the pomerium yet.”

  She nodded and leaned her head against the side of my chest, and pressed a hand against my stomach as we walked. “We are a good pair, Jacob. Always so supportive in a time of great need. I do hope you choose to stay.”

  I looked away from her, realizing how odd it was that I hadn’t yet come to a decision
concerning her earlier offer. As I’d thought on it, trying to formulate a definitive answer for her, I found that I couldn’t give her one. In my mind, the choice remained, although I was starting to lean in the direction of staying with Agrippina, ruling over the grandest empire to ever grace human civilization.

  I squeezed her gently before I removed my arm from around her shoulder. She looked up at me and smiled, but I couldn’t return it. Something pulled me away from her. Not an external distraction but an internal one. A pair of small, green orbs floating in the back of my mind haloed by the same dark hair I often saw, a visual cue that continued to flit about in my mind annoyingly.

  I only hoped such distractions would fade in time.

  ***

  I didn’t want to admit it, but each and every steps seemed more embarrassing than the last.

  We were just now entering the Forum Romanum, which was between the Palatine and Capitoline Hill and not near Romulus’ walls. I didn’t think the episode I’d seen in Merlin’s vision could possibly have happened there, but Agrippina had insisted that we at least poke around. I’d agreed, and now the rectangular, enormous, and beautiful Basilica Julia off to our left and the diminutive but still opulent Temple of Castor and Pollux came into view off to our right. Both of these structures existed two thousand years from now in a state of decay, but still they persisted. I ignored them, much as I ignored everything, too distracted to take in much detail of the social life going on around us. None of it seemed to matter anymore, as I was sure life would continue on as it always did. Life, it seemed, would go on without me. Whether I found the red orb or not, life in Rome would continue, meaningless and empty, destined to fall one day and become irrelevant.

  It would influence a few laws in America and Great Britain, bore seventh graders to tears, and become an expensive tourist trap, but other than those few things, it would become useless, just another fallen empire no one cared about. It was a concept that gave me serious pause, an excuse to give Agrippina’s offer serious consideration. I’d had no desire to rule the world before; the exact opposite in fact. I’d wanted to remain as removed from Roman society as I could, despite being constantly pulled into it by people like Claudius, Caligula, Galba, Vespasian, and, of course Agrippina.

  I no longer saw a point in resisting.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets as I thought, and followed behind Agrippina so that even with our looming failure, at least I could stare at her ass as we walked in circles. That, at the very least, was something worth doing in Ancient Rome, as I’d seen few better in all of antiquity. I was so distracted by it, in fact, that I barely noticed a trio of Praetorians off to my left fall to the ground when they were apparently attacked by a small band of disgruntled Romans. I looked up and glanced at them, watching apathetically as another Praetorian skewered one of the attackers through the chest while another pair scared off the remaining few.

  The incident was over in seconds, and everything went back to normal, and no one seemed to care, least of all Agrippina, who hadn’t even turned to see what was going on. I, however, gave the murdered individual one last look, not necessarily caring who he was or what had enticed him to attack us. I craned my neck to keep him in sight as long as possible, but when it was no longer possible, I turned back to set my eyes on Agrippina’s beatific posterior again, settling in for further boredom and a lack of accomplishment.

  I shoved my hands back in my pockets and basically spent the next few minutes analyzing every curve of Agrippina’s body. I was so distracted by it, in fact, that I barely noticed a trio of Praetorians off to my left fall to the ground when they were apparently attacked by a small band of disgruntled Romans. I looked up and glanced at them, watching apathetically as another Praetorian skewered one of the attackers through the chest while another pair scared off the remaining few.

  The incident was over in a minute, and everything went back to normal. I glanced at the dead man for only a second, observing that he was dirty and wore ragged clothes, quite probably identifying him as a common street urchin, beggar, or perhaps a poor thief. I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering what could have caused him to turn so violent so quickly, but decided it was irrelevant.

  I returned my eyes to their inspection of Agrippina’s backside, but then realized I’d seen pretty much all I’d needed or wanted to see there already and ignored her as well, but in that exact moment, she turned her head completely around to look at me, her long, golden, curly locks swirling around her shoulders at the movement.

  She smiled and lifted her eyebrows. “Anything, Jacob?’

  I shook my head, and she looked slightly disappointed at my negative gesture but no less determined. She returned her attention back to the streets ahead of her, leaving me once again alone, so I shoved my hands back into my pocket and continued on my way. Now that we were in the heart of the Forum, with so much culture, commerce, and government on display all around me, I couldn’t help but look around. I’d spent months in Rome once before, so none of this really interested me anymore, but if I could no longer take any childlike enjoyment at the idea of being in the Roman Empire, maybe I could at least remember why I’d always been so interested in the city to begin with.

  But nothing popped out at me as I scanned my surroundings, little seemed interesting, and I remained clueless. Taller than each and every one of the Roman Praetorians, I had no trouble seeing over them, but nothing caught my eye. A group of what could have been actual Roman Senators were grouped around each other, standing on the steps of some temple I couldn’t immediately identify, possibly discussing recent legislative proceedings or perhaps conniving against Agrippina. She hadn’t been present in Rome for over a year, which wasn’t exactly unprecedented, but it was entirely possible that recalcitrant members of Rome’s ruling elite had long since determined it was time for a change in leadership.

  In fact, I wasn’t even certain she’d told the Senate she had returned yet, and it wasn’t like a cursory inspection of our group of Praetorians would reveal her to the world, tightly packed around us as they were. Praetorian patrols were probably a common thing within the city, and few civilians spared a second glance at us. Picking out the tiny form of Agrippina from within a group of them would have been difficult, and while I certainly stood out, I was just one man within a whole group of them.

  A few dozen meters away from the group of senators, across the wide roadway that separated them, I caught sight of a Roman orator: a man who fulfilled the role of the entire internet back home. In Ancient Rome, an orator was the news. He would stand atop an elevated platform, papyrus in hand, and spend his day bellowing the world’s “current” events for all those willing to gather and listen. A number of topics were always on the menu, including updates on how one war or another was faring, whether there was any recent legislation passed, if any notable Roman had died recently, or what was new in the realm of Roman high fashion for the week. An orator was Rome’s only qualified journalist and hack blogger, both, and while there were numerous men who held the post, they weren’t ubiquitous and news traveled very slowly in antiquity.

  One such orator was espousing the midday news now, going on about Agrippina, in fact, and how Rome’s beloved empress was bound to return to Rome with news of great tidings for all, and that she would soon lead the city into a new age of prosperity. He went on to describe Agrippina herself with a string of accolades, fancy titles, and accomplishments, and I found myself wondering who exactly wrote the news for this guy to read.

  Probably Agrippina.

  But the crowd wasn’t exactly eating it up. Most of them probably had family members who had been conscripted to fight in her legions, called up with little prompting or explanation when she’d decided to bulk up her army for the war in Germany. Those men today were fighting all across the empire, putting down one brush fire or another, with no end in sight, and the local mob wasn’t quite ready to sing Agrippina’s praises, despite all she’d done to revitalize the city.

 
And then, like a scene from a movie set in the medieval age, streaking across the sky was a piece of fruit or vegetable that struck the orator clean between the eyes. The fat, jolly old man dropped to his rump in a landslide of fat and flab, causing the gathered populace to laugh and jeer at him. Flanking the downed orator were a pair of guards wielding large cudgels. He glared up at them, but even they laughed at him and didn’t at all seem interested in protecting him should the mob decide he had earned a forced and early retirement.

  I turned away from the scene, but then a commotion to my left diverted my attention again. I looked and saw a piece of fruit or vegetable flying through the air before it struck the orator clean between the eyes. The fat, jolly old man fell to the ground, causing the gathered populace to laugh and mock at him.

  I turned away from the scene, amazed at the hilarity of it, but while I wanted to laugh, I simply couldn’t. I no longer had the ability, and I knew it because I couldn’t even find it in myself to cackle at a man getting pegged in the face by a piece of fruit. Whether it was because I was insane or simply too focused to find humor in anything anymore, I understood that a piece of what had made me who I was, was gone.

  The Jacob Hunter I had once been was dead.

  And with his death came the realization that his home was lost to him as well. I knew I should have been saddened by this epiphany, but I wasn’t. I was content. I knew what I wanted to do with my life now, and it had nothing to do with the twenty first century.

  I looked up and noticed Agrippina was already looking at me, perhaps wondering why I had stopped. I stepped up to her and placed my hands on her arms. “I’ve made my decision. Whether we find the red orb or not, I’m staying right here. I’ll help you make your empire great.”

  She smiled and lunged in to hug me, but it was brief and curt, and she pulled back so that I could see how happy she was. “That is wonderful news, Jacob! But do not give up hope yet. We still have a portion of the pomerium remaining.”