Gaius’ spirits lifted in that instant as Julia’s stare lingered again, as the two caught one another in each other’s eyes when the opportunity presented itself.
She has not forgotten me; Gaius thought to himself, joyful by his own words. He longed to be by her now, to share in her words, yet, after ten years he was so close, but still distance separated them, as did the proper edict.
He would wait, he decided. He had this long already.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The wine flowed freely, as did the discourse as Varro and two dozen of his guests sat around a long marble table, which at the moment is being covered with the fifth course, which comprised of an assortment of pastries, rich and sweet breads, and a dozen varieties of fruits and nuts, served with an endless flow of hot, cold or honey wine.
Slaves moved in between the guests, refilling silver goblets. Plates were removed when they were emptied, before being filled once more as everyone ate until they were full. A number of the guests, to Gaius’ dismay, vomited into copper buckets that were set next to them; an acceptable act, done, so they could expel their meal and subsequently quickly refill their bellies with more delights as if this was the last meal they were ever going to eat again.
The main course had consisted of assorted soups, spices and wild game such as duck, boar, quail and fish, all mixed with vegetables, breads and sweets that Gaius had never seen, much less tasted. It had been the best meal of his life, and unlike the guests, he wasn’t about to expel the contents of his stomach until nature took its course. Consequently, he wasn’t able to try everything that covered the table.
Varro sat at the head, as the guests were seated by their importance along each side. It had been the senator who carried most of the conversations, as Varro had an unlimited roll of topics which to bring up at any moment. These interests drifted across many subjects, from catching up on personal and family business, to politics of the Senate, and what internal and foreign troubles were plaguing the Republic. More recent, talk shifted to the rogue Carthaginian general, Hannibal and his seemingly madman’s determination to crush Rome entirely on his own.
Hannibal’s name had been echoed all day through the streets, since the Senate had declared its intention to march against him. Most of the men in the room were old enough to remember the last war Rome fought with Carthage, and more so, Hannibal’s father who stood undefeated as he controlled the island of Sicily — sweeping aside one legion after another that dared to set foot on its shores. Haunted memories troubled many men, namely those that stood to lose the most if Hannibal became as troublesome as his father had been.
Most vocal had been Fabius Maximus, who despite the growing, annoyed stares from his uncle continued to bring Hannibal up at the dinner table.
Fabius was a military man, raised to lead men into battle. He clearly wanted to be north with Scipio’s legion as it moved to intercept Hannibal, yet, here he was, stuck with his uncle in Rome due to family obligations. Gaius could see the raging storm that brewed behind his eyes, but Varro treated him like a child, using his authority as master of the house continuously denounce what his nephew tried to argue.
Gaius found it uncomfortable to watch Fabius squirm in his seat as if some insect had been chewing away at his backside since dinner started. He clearly needed to be heard, wanted to reach out to these men, men who had it in their capability to make changes that could protect Rome, but acted powerless when faced with threats that stood to topple everything men for generations had sworn to uphold.
As Gaius listened to the ongoing conversations, it seemed to him that Varro was positioning himself to take control of the Senate. If that was a good or bad thing, he did not know. However, it seemed that everyone around the table, and many more businessmen and senators unseen stood to gain a great deal with Varro’ rise to power.
“How can any of you sit here today eating my uncle’s food and act like the world isn’t going mad?” Fabius interjected, bringing the previous topic of conversation to a halt as he blurted his statement out with a slight slur in his voice.
“There is no need for theatrics, Fabius,” Varro spoke up.
“I’m afraid there is, uncle. When will each of you wake up and see what is staring us in the face? We act as if nothing can touch our city, yet, we believe that our enemies will bend to our every demand. And now, when one man stands to challenge Rome with an army of northern barbarians, you simulate a fiction that we aren’t in danger,” Fabius added as he stood angrily to his feet.
“Sit down, nephew. Was it not I who called upon the Senate to take action first?” Varro defended as his tone rose with annoyance. By now, all of his guests had ended their privet conversations and had turned their gaze to the front of the table with keen interest.
“You might have been, but why is the Senate turning against Carthage, demanding, not requesting, that they deal with Hannibal on their own?” Fabius paused briefly, but he did not allow Varro to reply. “He went against them as much as he is challenging Rome. However, instead of standing with Carthage, we shift the blame for Hannibal’s actions to them, which will very likely lead the Republic to war on two fronts, and that if our enemies in Greece and Macedonia don’t take advantage of this conflict and rise up against Rome as well. What will you do then, uncle, when our legions are stretched beyond reason? How will the Senate protect its people?”
“We cannot make peace with Carthage anymore than we can a wild dog,” Varro cried out, his anger starting to get the better of him.
“It is easy for you to see them as lesser, isn’t it? Then tell me, dear uncle, how will you explain you position to the crying widows and mother of our dead legionnaires as their blood is spilled not on just our own soil, but on lands distant from home?”
“Because they are lesser than us, dear Fabius,” a new voice added to the argument.
Gaius directed his attention towards the man who sat next to Julia; closer than he would have liked. He recalled his brief introduction with him earlier in the evening as a man by the name of Paullus.
The name was not unfamiliar with introduction. He was a powerful figure, more so than even Varro, wealthy, respectable and hailing from an influential family that had served the Rome for generations. Most notably Paullus had spent much of his time in Greece with his four legions, putting down one rebellion after another. These acts made him a celebrated man. However, it was not these details that concerned Gaius, more so the frequent stares and gestures, and hidden whispers he made to Julia that had kept Gaius on the edge all night.
Julia played her role, laughing and smiling at him with affection when called for. Right now, it was how Paullus had gently rested his hand down on hers’ with an uneasy familiarity that went beyond simple friendship.
“If Hannibal wishes, let him cross the Alps. The legion under Scipio’s authority will crush him, and his horde like we would a slave rebellion. It will serve as a reminder to all those who dare stand before Rome’s destiny,” Paullus commented as he finished a cup of wine.
“If you are that confident in our legions, why are your men staying in Greece?” Fabius asked.
“Please, my good friend. There is no glory in crushing Hannibal and his rabble. Those spoils are for older men, well past their prime, men such as Scipio,” Paullus snorted.
“I would hardly call fifty thousand men a rabble,” Antony commented, which brought a sharp gaze from his father.
“A few thousand Gauls, nothing more — No lesser beings on the face of the earth,” Varro quickly commented to weaken his son’s hasty statement.
“Do remember your history, father. It was those blue-skinned dirt worshipers that sacked Rome,” Antony quickly shot back.
Varro looked across his table as a number of mummers from his guests filled his ears.
“That was a long time ago, when Rome and the Republic was weaker. I would not show any faith in Hannibal’s ability to maintain his alliance with the Gallic tribes for a prolonged period of time. They are as like
ly to rip his throat out as they are ours.” Varro tried to salvage the debate and ease his guests’ mind, but still it was easy to note that many at his table were becoming uneasy about the topic as the wine and food had stopped.
“And are we Romans are so superior that we, in such a short time are faced with another invasion?” Fabius added.
“Oh, come now!” Varro blurted out as he finally lost his sense. “You cannot honestly believe what you are saying.” Varro slammed his fist against the surface of his table, which drew everyone’s attention to him. “No army of Carthage or barbarians can topple this government or its legion, regardless what some may say at my table. Rome is strong, and this emboldened — delusional Hannibal will soon be nothing more than a footnote in our history when we are done with him!” Varro asserted.
There was silence for a moment as Varro looked around the table. He could plainly see that it was starting to weight on his guest whom the night might be lost.
Gaius noticed that Varro had a desperate glare in his eyes. He needed to find someone that would agree with him, beyond those he already had in his pocket. It was then, to Gaius’ concern that Varro settled his eyes on him.
“And what about you, Gaius, what does our younger generation think?” Varro directed his gaze down to his son, “that has proper training and experience in matters of warfare has to say about these matters that face our great Republic?”
Gaius swallowed hard as he suddenly wished he had a shell in which he could hide in, as everyone’s attention was turned towards him, as if he had the wisdom to ease their troubled minds and instill confidence in Rome’s abilities to handle the current crisis.
Taking a deep breath, Gaius wasn’t sure what he could say. Truthfully, beyond the simple facts that every common citizen knew, he understood little about Hannibal and his bloodlust against Rome. He hardly had enough time to think of the matter, not with so many other concerns that kept his troubled thoughts preoccupied.
Gaius decided it was best he played it safe.
“Well, Senator, the luxury of being a soldier is, you don’t have to have any political views. I merely fight who I’m told without question as to why.”
Varro was silent for an awkward moment before he burst into laughter, which was soon copied by a number of his guests.
“Well, lad, with men such you, Rome is certainly safe.”
Gaius forced a shrewd smile as he took a sip of his drink. He knew that was what Varro expected him to say, to follow his superiors’ authority without question, and blindly walk through the gates of Hades if instructed.
It was then that Gaius looked into Julia’s eyes as she stared at him with disappointment, and suddenly he felt ashamed. He had lied, and she knew it, somehow. He had his individual mind and his private opinions, but he allowed the pressure of those he perceived to be superior to him clouds his thoughts, and Julia saw threw him.
Gaius coughed, which drew Varro and his guest's attention back towards him.
“However, Senator, if I may continue,” Gaius interjected. “Those are the thoughts of what is expected of a simple soldier. N I am a centurion in Rome’s legions, and a citizen of this Republic. I know the truth isn’t as uncomplicated as we all wish to make it seem. A soldier works in facts, and the modest fact is Hannibal has armed a combined force that numbers well over anything Rome has faced in two generations. We are the sons of the veterans who knew this enemy. We have heard their stories and because of that, I know one thing above all: no matter what you wish to call them, so that your words can give you comfort, they are not weak, nor should we ever underestimate them. Carthage has a culture as old as ours, and like us, they will not allow a foreign power to dictate how they grow and expand. If we are to mend the damage between our two nations, then those that lead need to make more effort to reach a compromise that doesn’t risk the lives of more Roman men. Alternatively, I fear we will face the dire consequences of our failure to be responsible to those citizens who place their trust in us.”
Varro laughed, attempting to break the tension in the room as the whole table went silent.
Gaius noticed Fabius’ sneer at Varro hasty comment.
“To my understanding,” Gaius began before anyone could speak first. “The Senate demanded that Carthage bend to our will and do something about Hannibal, regardless of the fact that they had no control over him. Perhaps it is us that should have bowed to reason and found a solution for both our nations, so that we might have resolved this crisis before it has gotten this far.”
Gaius looked around the table, gazing in each of the guests’ eyes as he continued. He could see their doubts as if they were shrouds covering their heads.
“We are alone in the world, with fewer friends than enemies, whether or not you want to see that. If this city is to survive, then it is in you, Senator, that we must find the means, to either grow stronger by building a lasting union with those we think lesser, or we will perish from this earth, as a people and nation — never to have been remembered unless told by those that have enslaved us.”
“And what should we do about men like Hannibal?” Paullus asked. To even Gaius’ surprise the man seemed keenly interested in what he had to say, in contrast to Varro’ who face had turned bright red.
“Do not misread my words, gentlemen. I am a patriot first. I love Rome, and the Republic that we have built more than my own life, and I would gladly lay it down to keep Rome and those I love safe,” Gaius directed the final part of his sentence towards Julia, who smiled as she hung on his every word. “Hannibal must be stopped, that I agree with completely. I only asked that we think about if we've given this man reason to hate us?”
“Well said, centurion,” Julia broke the silence as she raised her cup to him, which was soon followed by Paullus and a number of other guests; Varro wasn’t among them.
Gaius remained silent during their acclaim, taking a deep breath as he looked at Julia, who smiled at him. He knew it was time for him to make his departure. He wasn’t sure if he could stomach the night much longer.
Gaius cleared his throat as he stood to his feet. “Unfortunately Senator, I’m afraid that I must take my leave before the hour grows too late. My men have a great deal to do before the week is over.”
Varro stood to his feet, managing a false smile as he nodded respectfully,” Thank you for coming, Centurion.” Gaius noted the small hint of annoyance in Varro address. He took no offense to it. He needed this night to be over with. “And thank you for the wonderful evening, and the insightful conversation.
Antony stood from his chair, deciding to walk Gaius to the exit as Varro’ guests’ quickly found new topics to explore, as the room once again filled with conversation.
As Antony escorted Gaius out to the courtyard, he suddenly erupted into laughter.
Gaius too joined his friend, even though he tried his best to hold back his enjoyment of the moment.
“I did not mean to offend.”
“Please, it was wonderful. Do not let those old goats bring you down. You spoke your mind, as you should have. My father surrounds himself with puppets that don’t think for themselves, all but Fabius and Paullus, I must say.”
Paullus, Gaius thought to himself, still trying to figure the man out.
Antony placed both his hands down onto Gaius’ shoulder; his smile beaming as he stood before his friend.
“Honestly, it does my heart wonders to see you well, my dear brother. I have enjoyed this reunion, and await our next gathering.”
“As I,” Gaius replied honestly. It was hard for him to think about why his fears had taken hold of him so strongly. Antony, while older than the boy he remembered, was still young and carefree — untainted with the burdens that weigh most Roman men down.
“Perhaps in a week’s time, if you aren’t too busy soldiering, we can explore the city and its many wondrous treats that were forbidden to us in our youth.”
“I would enjoy that very much. However, you will have to pay; I'm only a
poor soldier, after all,” Gaius joked, which brought about more laughter shared between the two friends.
“I shall bring my purse and make certain that it is filled with plenty of coin.” Antony hugged Gaius one last time before he turned and headed back into the house. A moment later, Gaius watched as Julia stepped out from the doorway and stood on the patio.
It was colder outside than it had been when Gaius first arrived, so Julia was wrapped in a fur cloak that draped well past her feet.
Antony gazed up at his sister with joyful eyes. “You be gentle with our boy now,” he smirked. She only grinned before he left her alone.
“Are you leaving so suddenly, without saying good-bye to me?” Julia asked as she walked carefully down the steps, before moving towards Gaius, who stood, taking in every detail of her as she neared him.
“I wouldn’t think of it. I was hoping we would get the chance to speak tonight, just the two of us,” Gaius answered.
“Oh really? Was there anything, in particular, you desired to talk about?” Her stare was alluring, nearly overpowering Gaius, who had to hold back with every fiber of his being not to reach out and grab her, wanting with all his heart to taste her seductive lips.
“I…” his mind drew a blank. He had had countless conversations with her in his mind over the past ten years. There, within the recesses of his thoughts, he was in control, without fear and able to formulate the words of poets to describe his longing for her, and how her presence gave him strength to carry on when he felt most alone. However, Julia stepped within inches of Gaius, placing the tip of her index finger against his lips, forcing him to remain silent as she stared deeply into his eyes. She did not break from her probe, seemly looking through him, searching for something that wasn’t on the surface, but still within Gaius.
“What is it?” Gaius broke the awkward silence as he touched Julia’s hand, feeling her soft skin against his rough fingers as he pulled her reach away from his face.
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