“Nothing,” she mussed with a wide grin. “I am merely looking for that boy I knew — the one that vowed to protect me with his body and heart.” She beamed — her touch, presence and voice leaching into Gaius that he was without thought or words — awestruck by this woman as if the goddess Athena had come from the heavens and stood before him now.
Gaius swallowed. “Am I so different now?” he asked nervously as he rested his hand over hers.
“No,” she smiled. “And yes. Nevertheless, you are he. I knew it the moment I saw you — those same eyes that shine the goodness of your heart that I’ve longed to see once again.”
“I’m pleased that I haven’t disappointed you,” Gaius replied, barely able to form a cohesive thought.
“I, on the other hand, must be quite different. I imagine you pictured me astray — fat, with hideous skin and matted hair,” she giggled.
“At times, perhaps I might have imagined that fiction. However, you are nothing that I could have dreamt.” She stared at him with curious eyes as Gaius took a deep breath. “You are beyond any beauty I’ve ever seen — a goddess statue made real,” Gaius caressed her cheek, memorizing her every feature.
Julia blushed, noticeable even in the cold. She then eagerly took his hand and pulled him over towards the stables, “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
“What is it?” he asked as he followed without hesitation.
“Hush, you shall see in due time.”
Julia signaled for one of her slaves to bring two horses over to her and Gaius.
He noticed, a boy no more than twelve years old escorted two horses to them that the animals were already prepared for riding. It seemed to him that she had planned this encounter, when she could escape her father’s party and be alone with him without fear of interruption.
Gaius ran his hand over the horse he was given, feeling the soft hairs of the animal’s mane between his fingers. It was an expensive horse, and elegant, not the bulky steeds that were drafted in the legions.
Taking the reins, Gaius pulled himself up onto the horse’s back, quickly easing into a comfortable sitting position. He was surprised the animal did not voice any discomfort. It felt odd for him to not be on Apollo.
Julia mounted her horse with the assistance of a slave. As she positioned her thighs over the mare’s back, she glanced over towards Gaius, who rode next to her, both waiting as the gates were swung open.
“It can be dangerous for a lady to ride this late at night,” Gaius commented as he kept a few paces behind her, knowing that she would be leading him through the city, and to whatever destination she had in mind for the two.
“Then it is a good thing I have my protector with me. Do try to keep up, soldier,” she smiled before kicking her horse, which reared back slightly before bursting into a full gallop and rounding the corner once outside the gate.
Gaius spurred his horse forward, and as he took raced down the paved streets, their two animals hoof echoing through the night as Julia led Gaius towards the western gate. Where she was taking him, he did not care. He was lost in the moment.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The empty abyss of the hollow doorway loomed before Gaius, who feared to move forward as he rested several feet from the entranceway to his boyhood house. The home, if it could be called that was barely standing. Most of the roof had caved in, and part of the west wall had fallen, scattering bricks over the weeds and waist-high grass that’d grown between the foundations; the only life came from a cluster of roosting birds that had nested between the broken beams.
Gaius almost forgot about his home. He hardly thought about it and had never planned on returning, yet, here he was now, standing before the threshold, afraid to go inside.
Julia was stagnant behind him, just out of arms reach. She hadn’t told Gaius about her plans to bring him to his home when they left the city behind them several hours ago. They rode through the darkness, guided by the full moon. Her heart, like his had raced with excitement, and she hated believing she had deceived him. However, she felt that she needed to bring him, her, to lift some of the burden she knew he carried on his back, for leaving his father and her behind ten years ago.
“It is okay, Gaius. I’m right here,” Julia spoke softly to him as she rested her hand down on his shoulder.
He wanted to feel angry with her. He wasn’t ready for this, but as he turned and glanced back, he could see the concern in her eyes as she urged him forward.
Gaius took the first careful step towards the propped door.
Brushing aside cobwebs, he entered, with Julia close by.
There was enough moonlight to see by, which cast through the broken roof and gaping holes above. The illumination revealed nothing of interest as no furnishings besides a single bed and a table were present, both wooden frames having rotted and covered with moss from prolonged exposure.
There were no personal effects whatsoever. Gaius didn’t much care. There was nothing of value regardless — everything that had been his father had given him when he left to join the Sixth Legion.
Gaius clenched his fists as memories of his childhood filled his mind: that last night eating with his father at the table, begging to be allowed to go to Rome with Antony. The bed which held the footlocker, and the fireplace that cooked the tasteless military stew, and the occasional fits of anger and laughter shared between his father and mother, when she was still alive.
Gaius was silent for a long time as his eyes drifted lazily from corner to corner, seemly expecting to find something. And then he spoke, low and without turning towards Julia, who remained fixed behind him, still standing between the broken doorframes.
“When did he die, my father?” Gaius whispered as he focused his attention to the bed.
“Some years after you left. However, he hung in there for a long while, still,” she answered carefully.
“No, he did not die alone,” Julia replied. Grabbing Gaius’ hand, she pulled him out of the house. “Come with me, I wish to show you something,” she urged him.
Gaius was reluctant at first. Earlier, this night he followed her without question, and this was where she brought him. Why, he wasn’t so sure, or keen on asking. He was still trying to take in this realization.
Julia led Gaius around the house, beyond the barn, which was little more than a pile of rotted wood that had long ago collapsed, and out into the horribly overgrown field that had once blossomed wheat. In the distance, cast by the bright moon and starry night sky loomed a lone tree that stood at the summit of a slopping hill, which over-looked the whole property from a high vantage point.
Julia felt a slight hesitation as she was forced to stop, once she realized that Gaius had slowed his pace.
“It is okay, trust me, please,” she said in a low tone, easing Gaius along, now with more care.
Gaius knew what lie at the top of hill, and at the base of the century-old cypress tree. He had seldom gone there, not since his father placed his mother cold body into the earth.
Gaius’ eyes widen for a moment as he saw two marked gravestones at the foot of the tree. One he knew belonged to his mother. It was her people’s custom to be buried, and not burned like Romans. His father honored that, but upon closer expecting of the second slab of stone, Gaius read his father’s name.
Gaius stared at Julia with a puzzled expression. She answered his question before he ever uttered a word. “He asked to be laid to rest with your mother, not to be cremated, but to honor her Celtic traditions and be buried in the soil.”
“How…” Gaius struggled for words, “did he get up here. He would have never asked for help, from anyone.”
Julia fought back a laugh as she smiled at the memory. “No, he would not have asked for help, and never did. However, he did not have too. Antony and I took care of him until the end. And when that day came, we prepared his body, dug the earth, and brought him to rest with your mother.”
Gaius was dumbfounded by Julia’s confession.
“He demanded that we leave him alone once you left.” Julia’s smile widened from the memories that she shared with Gaius. “Every day he cursed Antony and, I when we volunteered to cook, clean, tend to the grounds, whatever he needed done and wasn’t able to do for himself. At first, he chased us off with a club, cursing our names, but each day we came back. And when he wasn’t able to get out of bed, as his condition worsened, we did what needed to be done, so he may live the remainder of his days in comfort.”
“Why would you do this?” Gaius asked as he stepped closer to Julia and carefully took her hand and placed it in his.
She smiled at him, gazing into his eyes as she squeezed his hand tightly.
“Because, we loved you…I, love you. It was the only way that my brother and I could show it.” Julia rested her palm against Gaius’ cheek as she said her next words carefully. “You took an oath, for me, Gaius. How could I not do something for you in return?”
Gaius turned his sight away from her embrace and stared down at his parent’s graves.
“As I grew older,” Julia continued, “your father would break down as he became accustom to our company. While Antony was at the market, selling what he grew on your land, Julius confided to me how proud he was of you, and excited in knowing the man you would someday grow to become. When I asked about you, as I often did, he painted me a vivid picture, who you were, what you were like, and who you would become. I knew without having to try that it was you standing in my father’s house. I had seen your face my whole life,” she rubbed her hand carefully across Gaius’ cheeks, staring up at him with unconditional love.
“I was terrified that you would have forgotten me,” Gaius confessed. “I did not want to come back, and I hoped to the gods that I would never see you again — better to remember you as you were than who you might have become.”
“Why?” Julia asked.
“We were only children, and you far younger than I. Our lives were fantasy and fiction. How could I continue to love a girl I hardly knew, no less, you… I?”
Julia smiled as she moved closer.
“Those fictions, as you call it, were the only realities my brother, and I had. Our lives are laid out for us from the moment we were born, to the day we die. You freed us with your games and your stories. We could never do enough to thank you for that. You gave us a freedom we could not have attained on our own. You’ve allowed me to see the world through your eyes, Gaius.”
Gaius grew somber as he lowered his head.
“I’m afraid the reality isn’t the truth we believed, Julia. Rome, this Republic, it isn’t what I thought it was. It corrupted, rotting and ignorant of the reality of our world. I feel, Julia that I’m fighting to defend a fantasy that only exists in my mind. Rome isn’t what I once thought it was, not after what I’ve seen and heard over the past couple days.”
Julia shook her head fiercely, grabbing his hand once more and pulling him down the hill as quickly as their legs could carry them.
“Where are we going now?” Gaius asked with a hint of annoyance.
“Just be quiet and follow me. I will show you the Rome you dream of, Gaius, one that even my father and his flock can’t take away from you,” she cried back as they raced towards their horses and again rode out into the night.
Gaius knew that Julia was leading him back towards Rome, but they had left the road some miles back and were riding through the country, now for over an hour, but still heading in the direction of the city.
Moments earlier Julia leapt from her horse and urged Gaius as the two climbed a steep hill. She reached the summit first, turning back, staring down at Gaius as he reluctantly followed.
“Look, Gaius, look upon your dream — the dream that is Rome!” she called as he reached the top of the hill.
Gaius’ eyes widen when he looked upon Rome, the whole city stretched out before him, for as far as he could see. The fires from the countless millions of torches flickered behind the tall stone walls that encompassed Rome, shining brightly like a sea of stars that rolled with the seven hills.
The water of the Tiber River glistened in the full light of the moon as lone ship drifted lazily downriver, heading out toward sea.
A flock of birds flying south as winter’s breath moved from the mountains…
The sight was the most magnificent thing Gaius had ever laid eyes on. It was peaceful, clean and oblivious the blight and rot he’d seen since arriving; Rome, indeed seemed like a beacon of civilization, order and the rule of law that was absent throughout much of the world, that he was a loss for words to properly express what he was seeing.
“This is your Rome, Gaius, the city you’ve given you life to defend. It is the symbol for all men whom we can reach beyond our standing, and strive to better ourselves,” Julia voiced with pride as she stood by Gaius’ side. “It is not perfect, however. There are men who seek to twist the dream of Rome for their own ambitions. There are those who go without, dying each day on its streets, and our system is far from perfect, but it is the best the world has to offer, because we, the people of the Republic have choices in how we govern ourselves.”
Julia looked up at Gaius, drawing his gaze down towards her as she gently caressed his cheek with her hand.
“Men like you, Gaius, are the keepers of the dream. You fight to ensure that our flame never die, to protect our greatest ambitions from those that would destroy everything we have, and might still achieve.”
Time seemed to stop for Gaius as he stared into Julia’s deep eyes. Just being this close to her was overpowering that he couldn’t hold back his feelings any longer, nor could she as Gaius wrapped his arms around her thin waste, and embraced her with ten years worth of building passion.
He wanted to hold onto her forever, never to let her fall through his fingers as they kissed for a long while, each intimately enjoying the taste of the other’s lips against their own. However, after a while, Julia pulled back suddenly, forcing herself to turn away from him, as if she was ashamed.
Tears began to form under her eyes as Gaius looked on with concern. “Julia?” he spoke nervously.
“I love you, Gaius. I unfailingly have, and I always will,” she whispered with a heavy heart that seemed as if it was tearing apart within the walls of her chest.
“Then what is wrong?” he asked.
“It is, Paullus,” she finally admitted, pausing between words with a heavy sigh. “We are to be wed in the summer. I have no choice or say in the matter. It is the desire of my father. With Paullus’ support and money, my father will rise higher within the Senate, as will my soon-to-be husband. They have the chance to create one of Rome’s strongest unions, now and for generations to come, beginning with myself as the prize.”
Julia turned sharply, driving her face into his chest where tears ran down his tunic, soaking the fabric as she wept.
“This is ridiculous!” she cried out, still holding tightly onto him. “My life is to be in ruin for politics, not love. Paullus has money, power and an army. He can give me anything my heart could ever desire, but not the one thing it wants the most, and that is you. I don’t know what to do.”
Julia was angry, her words resentful and bitter. She obviously wanted to hate her father, but seemly could not bring herself to say it. It was the way the world was, they both knew it: as the daughter of Varro, she had her obligations, and it was within his right to do what he wanted with her — marry her to whomever he desired, her heart only got in the way.
Gaius pulled Julia back so he may look into her eyes, and said, “I feel as if I have been waiting my whole life for this moment. There hasn’t been a day that has gone by that I haven’t thought about you. I have prayed to the gods many times for precisely one chance to tell you how I’ve felt — only one chance to confess that I love you. However, I cannot change what we are or what the fates have in store for us. All I know is, right now, we have this moment, which no one can take away from us.”
Gaius held his stare fo
r a while as his words sunk into her heart, which brought a faint smile to her face as he continued, “I’ve loved you for so long, Julia, and I will continue to do so for many years to come. Nothing will ever change that, not as long as the sun rises and falls…I will love you with my whole heart.”
Julia leaned close and kissed Gaius once more, softly.
They treasured their shared feelings, staying the rest of the night at top the hill that overlooked Rome. They wanted their time together to last for all ages to come. This was their moment, and the affairs of their lives could wait a little while longer.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The screams of the dying beast carried over the battlefield, adding to those of the thousands of men wounded and dying, which littered the ground with limbs, entrails and flesh, saturated in pools of crimson blood and glinting metal of iron and armor.
Hannibal’s attention was not focused on the dying Romans, which his men eagerly dispatched from this world with joyful purpose. Instead, his gaze fell upon one of his elephants, which had been speared numerous times in the belly, which now lay on its side, riving in agony as it stomach was sliced open, pilling entrails across the snow-covered field.
The smell was horrific, but the creature’s dying cries were worse as with each shallow breath, the trunk sprayed misty blood from its nostrils, which showered down on the warriors who tried to put the creature out of its misery. However, its thrashing made it difficult for the dark-skinned hunters to finish the beast off.
Hannibal sighed with a worried heart as that elephant was the last he brought with him across the Alp, a dozen already having died during the long and cold journey, the remainder killed by Roman spears. He had once hoped they would have made a greater difference in his campaign, perhaps lasting another two or three battles.
He watched with unblinking eyes as a Numidian hunter carefully crept towards the elephant’s head, with a spear raised, ready to strike.
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