Swords of Rome

by Christopher Lee Buckner

  Gaius rubbed his tears from his eyes and wiped his cheeks, before he found the courage to answer.

  “I understand, father. I promise I will not let you down.”

  “That’s my boy. Now, come, I want to show you something.”

  Gaius watched as his father walked over to his bed, which was on the far side of the small house. Gaius soon joined him.

  “I know you have seen these before, when I wasn’t around,” Julius confronted Gaius with a grin. “Now I want you to know what they are.”

  Gaius sat by his father’s side as he opened the trunk and removed the thin sheet that lay on top of the items inside. Most of the things were ignored, but it was the chest plate with the ivory white wolf that Julius held up.

  “This is the crest of the Sixth Legion, the Wolves of Rome,” Julius began as he rubbed his hand across the face of the wolf, which stood in the center of the expensive armor, surrounding by fig leaves of silver, with smaller depictions of wolves running in a pack on each breast.

  “I was their chief centurion, and they were my family. I would have done anything to protect them, and they would me. We were defenders of the Republic, willing servants of Rome, but most of all we fought to protect those we left at home. Very few of the old guard is left, save for myself and Valerius. He trains young men such as you to become the next generation of Wolves. Because of that, the Sixth Legion is unique. They aren’t comprised of farmers or seasonal soldiers, but men who have sworn a lifelong oath to keep our Republic safe.”

  “But I thought Rome had no standing army,” Gaius asked. He had studied a lot about warfare, mostly so he could make his games with Antony more entertaining.

  Julius smiled. “True, to a point, but Rome is always at war in one form or another. We’ve only just united the whole of Italy, and before that a year did not go by that we weren’t at someone’s throat. However, the Sixth, they, as I have already said, are unique. They are kept ready in the south to protect the Republic’s interests, and prepared at a moment’s notice to march anywhere the Senate might deem necessary,” Julius explained. “For the most part Valerius keeps the legion filled at less than half strength, around a thousand men. More are added as needed.”

  Julius handed the armor over to Gaius, urging him to take it from him, which he did.

  He had held it many times, now after hearing what his father had said, it seemed heavier than it did now as his shacking arms struggled to keep it in his possession.

  “You are too young to be a soldier now, but soon, when you come of age this armor will be yours to wear. With it, you will carry a huge burden, and the honor of our family. The Sixth will become your new home, its men your brothers, and Valerius your guardian to take my place.”

  Gaius looked over at his father with a heavy heart as he fought to hold back his tears.

  “Watch out for them, your men, your family — your pack, and they will protect you from the evils of this world.”

  Gaius stared down at the image of the wolf, which looked much like the one he saw in the forum in Rome. Why, he couldn’t understand but for some reason, this animal was looking out for him, as the old shopkeeper had said.

  Gaius cradled the armor close to his chest as he embraced the destiny his father had set him down. He swore to make him proud; he would become a great warrior as his father was before him, but today, he just wanted to be a twelve-year-old boy who was saying good-bye to everything he’d known.

  Gaius fell into Julius’ arms as for the first time in his life the man embraced his son and cried with him. They would remain together for several more hours as Julius would tell more tales about the contents of the chest, gifts that he was giving to his son for the journey that was to come.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Gaius stood before the front door, his hand resting on the latch, not yet finding the courage to pull it open. Two hours had passed quicker than he would have liked. There was so much more than he wanted to say to his father, but his mind drew a blank as emotions overtook him. Now, it was time to go, and before him stood the first independent act, he had to master.

  “It is okay, Gaius,” Julius said as he rested his hand over his son, urging him to pull the door open.

  His hand shook terrible but with his father’s encouragement, he finally pulled the door open, revealing the setting sun, and to his surprise, Antony and Julia still waiting for him.

  “Gaius!” Julia called out as she rushed over to him with her brother a step behind her. Right away, the young girl’s eyes could see that something was wrong.

  “Where are you going?” Antony asked with haste as he saw his friend holding a large bag filled with his belongings, his father holding another bag over his shoulder.

  Gaius could not answer as his eyes were gazed downward. He still had difficulty understanding himself what was happening.

  “Are you leaving, Gaius?” Julia asked as she stood next to her brother, who held tightly onto her hand.

  “He is,” Julius answered for his son; resting his hand down on Gaius’ shoulder, trying to support him as best he could.

  “Why?” Antony demanded as his voice showed signs of a quiver.

  “I have to,” Gaius finally spoke.

  “But why? I don’t understand,” Julia asked, tears falling from her eyes.

  “I just have to!” Gaius replied sharply, not really meaning to sound so harsh.

  Julia let go of her brother and stepped in front of Gaius, looking up at him with tearful eyes as she struggled to understand the sudden turn of events.

  “Don’t you like me anymore? Did I do something to upset you that might be causing you to leave?” she pleaded.

  Gaius could not answer. A part of him wanted to yell at her, tell her that he didn’t like her anymore. Certainly, it would have made more sense to her if he had. However, words could not form.

  “Young Gaius has made a very brave decision. He has chosen to serve the people of Rome so that he may protect little girls such as yourself,” Valerius broke the awkward silence as he stepped beside Gaius and answered Julia’s question.

  “When will he be back?” she asked.

  “When he has finished his training,” Valerius answered.

  “When will that be?” Antony then asked.

  “I’m afraid it will be some years,” Julius spoke as he handed Gaius’ bags over to Valerius, who then strapped them to the smaller of the two horses.

  “I don’t want you to go, Gaius!” Julia cried as she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could manage, tears rolled down Gaius’ chest as she buried her face into his tunic.

  Gaius held her for a while as she replied, “I don’t want you to go!”

  Gaius straightened himself and sucked back his own tears, before he pulled Julia away from him, still holding onto her shoulders, but now gazing lovingly into her deep eyes.

  “I have to go. I have to become strong. If I don’t, I won’t be able to protect you from the monsters of the world, like I promised. I swear to you, Julia, one day I will come back for you. Do you believe me?”

  Julia wiped the snot from her nose as she replied, “Do you promise?”

  “I swear it — I swear it with all my heart that I will come back for you, and we’ll never be parted again.”

  “But you’ll forget me.”

  Gaius hugged Julia tightly as she again wrapped her arms around him.

  “No. I could never forget you, Julia.”

  “I love you, Gaius,” she whispered, only loud enough for him to hear.

  “I love you too.”

  Antony stood next to his sister, removing the clay medallion of the She-Wolf Lupus. Carefully, he snapped the token in two halves before handing the top piece to Gaius, for him to take.

  “Here, so you shall remember me. We will always be brothers, as long as each of us has a piece of the medallion. Don’t forget that, okay.”

  “I won’t forget,” Gaius answered as he placed the broken medallion
around his neck, letting the top half of Lupus’ head rest on his chest where he vowed never to take off.

  Antony took his sister’s hand and guided her back to where they had been resting. The body slave took the still crying Julia into her arms, wrapping a shawl around the girl while she comforted her.

  “I’m proud of you, Gaius. Today you have taken your first step to becoming a man. Never forget those that we leave behind, for they are the ones you’ll fight for when the time comes,” Julius said as he knelt down before Gaius, speaking to him with a clear, proud voice.

  “I won’t forget, father. I promise.”

  Gaius hugged his father for the last time before Julius forced himself to let go.

  “You train him well, Valerius.”

  “I will old friend. I will see you in the next life,” Valerius said as he extended his hand for Julius to take.

  “Take your time getting there.” Julius grabbed his oldest friend and embraced him, before the two men parted quickly, not wanting to prolong their separation any longer.

  “Come lad, we have a lot of road to cover before we reach the legion barracks,” Valerius said as he escorted Gaius over to his horse, helping him up onto the back of the smaller mare, before he leaped onto his own.

  As the two of them turned and started down the dirt road, heading south, Julia ran behind Gaius for several paces crying out, “Don’t forget me, Gaius! Don’t forget your promise! I will be waiting for you; I promise! I love you, Gaius!”

  He smiled down at her, watching her until she disappeared over the horizon as the falling sun soon crossed under the western sky, ending the last day of his old life.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Senate of Carthage

  North Africa

  Two large gold-plated doors that led into the Carthaginian Senate swung open once the visitors from Rome were announced to the gathering of politicians, foreign delegates and the nobility of Carthage. The glare of the sun, blistering hot, filled the chamber that seated over three hundred representatives, who had gathered to meet emissaries from Rome. These men waited eagerly; most, if not all, with apprehension and contempt that filled their hearts. The last time representatives from Rome stepped foot in the Carthaginian Senate, was to accept their surrender to Rome. Now, as the collective audience took a deep breath, they looked on as five men, each dressed in pristine white togas, stepped through the open doors and walked without breaking stride toward the gathering of men who would hear what Rome demanded of them.

  Each senator waited in silence, in anticipation. Only the rhythmic tapping of the representatives of Rome, shoes could be heard as they crossed the marble floor to see the leader of the Carthaginian Senate.

  Finally, the leader of the group, a tall, well-built man, clearly the equestrian class, with short close-cut black hair, dark eyes and a stern glare nodded his head to the leader of the Carthaginian Senate. His name was Quintus Fabius. He was a former tribune in the Roman army and now appointed chief envoy by his Senate to deliver a message to Carthage, in hopes of preventing another war.

  Each of his four aides stood poised behind Quintus — each soldiers purposefully big and intimidating, as if they carried the might of the Roman army on their shoulders.

  “Senators,” Quintus began, not waiting to be formally introduced or spoken to. His voice carried high, easily heard from all corners of the Senate chambers, as all who listened, paid attention to him and his words with great and worrisome interest.

  “I have come to you with great urgency. It would appear that this house has allowed one of its generals to run astray.” Quintus’ opening statement was designed to sound purposely mocking. More than a few of the Carthaginian senators snorted their contempt at his acquisition.

  “Three months ago, a general by the name of Hannibal Barca, birthed out of New Carthage in Hispania, raised an army and laid siege to the settlement of Saguntum, a Roman ally.” His voice rose higher on that last statement as Quintus directed his gaze around the room.

  “Three weeks ago Saguntum fell to Hannibal’s forces, and now Rome has learned that the rogue Hannibal has unified a number of barbarian tribes within Gaul, and is planning his march across the Alps even as I speak, with the clear intentions of invading Italy.”

  A number of Carthaginian senators began to voice their belay in the accusations that Quintus was making.

  “Where is your proof?! Yelled one man, but Quintus ignored him and all others that demanded the same.

  “Rome,” Quintus’ voice rose even higher, “will not tolerate this act of open aggression against our allies and our people. If this Senate does not act now and forcefully remove the renegade Hannibal of his command, and present him to the Roman Senate, so he may face punishment, his actions, and the unwillingness of this Senate will be considered an act of war.”

  Quintus stretched out his words, putting an extra pause on the word war, so that his warnings would resonate deeply with the men who had gathered to hear his demands.

  Quintus lowered both of his hands down to his sides and filled them with the folds of his toga, before raising it higher, as if he was offering the cloth to the senators. He paused for a moment longer, allowing his confusing gesture to be seen by all in the chambers before he continued.

  “In my folds, Rome brings you either peace or war. Which do you choose?”

  The Carthaginians seemed puzzled as a chorus of voices rose up, most of them outraged by the proposal and the seemly theatrical gesture by Quintus.

  The leader of the Senate rose from to his feet, fixing his dark gaze on Quintus as he gave his reply. Like many of his fellow representatives, he donned a thick curled black beard that made him distinctly alien to the five trimmed Romans who stood before him.

  He raised his right hand; palm held out, and urged his members to be silent for a moment as he gave his answer.

  “Which do you prefer?” the senator seemed like he was going to say more, but before he could; Quintus dropped his folds and tilted his head in a respectful manner.

  “Then we choose war. This, the Senate, the People and Rome accept,” and afterwards, Quintus and his four burly bodyguards turned abruptly, walking with haste out of the Carthaginian Senate even though a number of the senators, including their leader urged them to return so that negotiations could continue. Other senators, however, accepted Rome’s statement and rallied for war as the chambers erupted into frenzy.

  Quintus glanced back one last time as the senators and other Carthaginians present at the brief assembly were at each other’s throats. Some accepting Rome’s offer for war, while others demanded that they sue for peace, at any cost. This told Quintus all he needed to know. Carthage was not ready for a prolonged conflict, and more than likely would not send aid to Hannibal. The rouge would be alone and easily dealt with when and if he crossed the Alps. And at the very least, he would be bogged down for a number of years, perhaps even a decade without help from home before he could actually threaten Rome directly. No matter, Quintus knew Rome would be back here, in these chambers, with Hannibal’s head on a pike. With him, Carthage would kneel before Rome and her legions.

  The Republic's destiny was at hand.

  Gaius stared into the fire and watched the flames dance with no particular interest, as the embers from the newly placed log burned bright against the night sky. It had been four days since he had left his father, and the only life he had ever known. He understood the reasons why he was forced to leave; still, a part of him wished he could see his father and friends one last time. So much needed to be said, but so little actually was spoken. Now, he found himself in the company of a stranger.

  Valerius served with his father long ago, during Rome’s last war with a nation called Carthage. He learned that fact but knew little else since neither of them had said more than a dozen words to one another since they had set out on their long journey. He knew that Valerius was taking him to some kind of camp, one where other young men served the Republic, the home of the Sixth
Legion. However, what new life awaited him, he knew nothing about, or if he could properly prepare himself for what was to come in the weeks and months.

  Becoming a soldier, a warrior of Rome had been one of his boyhood dreams, ever since he discovered his father’s armor, he dreamed about glorious adventures in faraway countries; fight barbarian hordes, and defending the values of Rome. However, now, too soon had the obligation been thrust upon him that he doubted his ability to overcome the trials that would be waiting for him when he reached his destination.

  Valerius stroked the fire. For four days, the two had been heading south, and while they were never far from a town, every night they camped under the stars. Gaius did not mind this; he was accustomed to sleeping outdoors, which was comforting for him since it was something he and his father had done many times. Tonight, they sat under a tall tree that had twisted and weathered branches, which protected the pair from the light rain that was beginning to fall. Rested up against the tree, Gaius glanced over at the breast plate that Valerius had worn. It too was engraved with the same image of the white wolf, only in a different style, but serving the same meaning.

  Gaius noted that both his father and Valerius seemed to coven the crest a great deal. Even when they spoke of the Sixth Legion, their words were filled with respect and joy, like two proud fathers. Gaius wondered what it all meant. Would he also come to cherish the Sixth as they had — his new family, his brothers? How would he know if he was going to like the life that was being forced on him? His mind was vexed with these questions and many more — too many uncertainties. He hated not knowing what to expect. He disliked surprises, and more so feared his own lingering doubts. Fear was terrible, and it had sunk its teeth into him. What should happen to him if he failed? What if he was a terrible soldier? He had nothing to his name but what was strapped to the horse.