Swords of Rome

by Christopher Lee Buckner

  “Enough! Stop this madness, at once! Move aside you bloody fool, now I say!”

  Gaius realized it was Antony’s voice before he saw his friend push his way between the hired goons.

  “By the grace of Jupiter almighty, Gaius, you’re alive!” Antony cried out as he rushed over and embraced his old friend, throwing his arms around him without holding back his joyful emotions.

  “What is happening here, Antony?” Gaius demanded as he nodded his question toward the big lug that stood before him.

  Antony glanced back and leered at the gang, unable to hold back his anger.

  “Lower your damn weapons, I command you! Who do you think you are raising swords against a Roman officer?!"

  “We are only doing the job your father paid us to do,” the gang leader replied, but he did as he was told as he withdrew his weapon, but clearly unpleased about Antony’s tone of voice.

  “Ignore them, Gaius, they are goons hired by my father to safeguard our home and us from the rioters — mindless dogs, nothing more. Come, bring your men inside.” Antony waved his hand violently at the gang leader as if he was shooing a fly from his path, before he led Gaius and his century into the courtyard of his father’s home.

  “Bring water, and food for these men, at once!” Antony demanded to a group of slaves who were busy moving furnisher from the house. They dropped what they were doing and ran off, gathering more help as they carried out Antony’s demands without question.

  “What is going on here, Antony?” Gaius asked.

  Antony sighed deeply as the first group of slaves brought back buckets of water and fresh-baked bread. Maurus took command as he directed the men to corners of the large courtyard, while issuing twenty men to stand watch by the front entrance, clearly none-too-trusting of the gang beyond the walls.

  “My father, he is running, like many noblemen have done over the past few days. He is packing our stuff and moving us to our country estate where we can be better protected, or so he would hope.”

  “You are no safer out there, not with Hannibal and his horde running about unopposed,” Gaius commented.

  “I know, but there seems no place safe, regardless. He acts out of fear, nothing more.”

  “It is that bad?” Gaius asked.

  “I’m afraid it is worse,” Antony shook his head. “Once word reached the city about Flaminius’ death and the defeat of his army, the people demanded answers from the Senate. However, those old fools had no answers to give. Some ran, fleeing for their own estates, or heading elsewhere out of Italy. The people, well, they just went mad.”

  Antony closed his eyes as he recalled what he had seen.

  “By the gods, Gaius, our own soldiers were slaughtering people in the streets, in droves. I barely escaped the madness myself.”

  “Then, the Senate must call more legions from the frontier to safeguard Rome,” Gaius spoke, more demanding, as if he was in the Senate addressing its members.

  “It is not that simply, I’m afraid. While the Senate is taken Hannibal seriously now, the bloody Macedonians have started a rebellion. What capable legions we have in Greece are forced to remain there to safeguard our settlements there, and our grain shipments, or else we all starve, Hannibal or no Hannibal.”

  Antony led Gaius into his home. To his amazement, the place, which had been pristine upon his first visit months before, was sorry, as the floors were filthy, caked with layers of muddy footprints. Most of the furnisher was gone, as well as the potted plants, marble statues, the family death masks that dominated the far wall, and even the gold tiling had been removed from the floor.

  Antony sat down on one of the few chairs that remained in the house, as a slave brought him a cup of honey wine. Gaius, on the other hand, refused his drink, and chose to remain standing as he tried to wrap his mind around the information he had learned in the past hour.

  “Then we must do something. We must reform the legions from the survivors, draft new soldiers from the country, hell, and even empty the dungeons if we must. With winter almost over, we won’t have much time before Hannibal has enough supplies to launch his full offensive on Rome,” Gaius spoke, practically yelling as if he expected it was within Antony’s doing to carry out the suggesting he was making.

  “And then what? Who will lead them into battle? We don’t’ have an affective government right now. Brand new consuls must be voted into office. And then what should we do, lead the fresh legions to their slaughter? I’m afraid it isn’t as simple as you may wish it to be so, my friend.” Antony rubbed his index finger across his brow, before he took several long swings of his wine.

  “You mean well, my friend. I know. However, you haven’t been in Rome to know the whole picture,” Antony added.

  “No, I’ve been out there, bleeding for Rome,” Gaius shot back.

  Antony couldn't resist smiling.

  “Oh, how I wish we had ten thousand men just like you, Gaius. We could conquer the world if we tried.”

  “I’m only interested in saving the Republic,” Gaius replied.

  “As am I. However, until someone steps up for the task, I’m afraid there is little that can be done right now but wait and let the river take us where it may.”

  Gaius finally sat down, and then took a long, deep breath before letting it out. As he ran his palm through is growing hair, it was only when he pulled it back that he noticed the grit and filth from his scalp.

  “I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe, and I’m not speaking of the battles or the men I’ve killed." Gaius’ words trailed when he said, killed, as if he had only just then understood that he had taken lives — men who might be fathers, doing what they believed was right.

  Antony lessened carefully as Gaius continued.

  “The men who fight for Hannibal, his barbarians, and…” Gaius did not know how to form the right words for what he’d seen at the estate further north, now a full week past. “The things they’ve done to our people — women, children, even the fucking slaves; you couldn’t believe if I told you.”

  “The Senate has heard the reports,” Antony added.

  “Not like this,” Gaius’ words fell silent as, he pulled out from his purse that hung from his waist the ring he pulled from the charred corpse of Decima Felix Titus, where he held the small object tightly in his hand.

  After a long pause, Gaius’ thoughts returned from the lingering horrors he had seen. He turned his attention back towards Antony and spoke with an unfamiliar firm tone.

  “The Senate may be filled with cowards, and you may even want to surrender,” Gaius directed his angry words at Antony, speaking to him as if he represented the whole Senate. “But I've lost too many good friends to allow what I’ve seen done to our people to go unpunished.” Gaius stood abruptly, clinching his fists shut once he tossed the gold ring of Titus to Antony, who caught it, unknowing why Gaius had given it to him.

  “You need to understand; Hannibal doesn’t want to defeat Rome or topple the Republic, but he desires to destroy us, all of us, so that our names may never be spoken again, for all history. I fear that even Carthage won’t be able to pull him back.”

  “You cannot make this war personal, Gaius,” Antony said as he struggled to understand what his friend had gone through.

  “Tell that to those people beyond our city gates, or the widows and orphans of our fallen brothers.”

  Gaius was about to leave when he stopped, as he saw Julia standing in the doorway, blocking his exit.

  She had just walked in, and dropped the package she had been carrying, as apples rolled across the dirty floor. Her eyes quickly began to water as she first uttered, “Gaius,” before she cried out his name once more, and rushed over to him, throwing herself into his waiting arms.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Gaius, I thought,” Julia swallowed hard as she struggled for words, “I thought you were dead.” She held him tightly, refusing to let him go. The smell of the oils in her black hair rose around him, covering
the months of death, battle and exhaustion that shrouded him like a heavy cloak. He hadn’t realized how much he longed for her, to feel her warm and loving embrace again. In light of what had happened over the past few months, his last words to her before he set off for the north, were meaningless.

  “I am alive, Julia,” Gaius replied with a soft voice.

  Julia stood back, staring up at him with swollen eyes. Carefully, Gaius wiped away her fallen tears, which left behind a streak of filth across her cheek.

  “When I heard about Sempronius, and then Flaminius, I feared the worst.” She threw herself back into his arms. Gaius could hear the beating of her heart against his chest, even though his armor.

  A part of him felt guilty as she hadn’t been in his thoughts as much as he would have liked over the months. Now she was in his loving embrace again, and he realized she was what he needed to allow the weight of his burden to lift, just for a moment. He wanted to say so much to her, to confess his endless love and affection, and resend everything he had last said, but Gaius held his tongue, as he feared what it might unleash.

  Gaius’ attention was as he heard the voice of a man enter the house, soon followed by the footsteps of several individuals as they came across the room that Gaius, Julia and Antony occupied.

  When the voice became clear, Julia pulled suddenly away from Gaius’ hold, and quickly wiped her face of tears, but could do nothing about the redness under her lids.

  A moment later Gaius recognized Paullus as he entered, with him, trailing close behind were two other men, bodyguards it seemed from their close military haircuts, and burly build.

  “Ah, there you are Antony,” Paullus spoke, but held his words when he saw Julia’s sorrowful expression. Concern quickly filled his eyes as he stepped toward her, holding out his hand so that he may caress her face.

  “What is the matter, my dear?” Paullus asked, concerned.

  Julia managed her best smile, replying with a soft giggle as she answered, “Oh, it is tears of joyful glee, my love, for my old friend Gaius has returned from the dead it would seem.”

  Paullus stared at Gaius for a moment, seemly trying to place his face. A moment later he smiled, either recognizing the young officer, or pretending he did.

  “That is wonderful. You were with Flaminius I presume, with the rest of your legion?” Paullus asked.

  “No sir, I was with Sempronius at Trebia. I was tasked with another assignment after the battle, so I missed the battle at Lake Trasimene, I’m sorry to say,” Gaius replied as respectfully as he could. It was obvious how uncomfortable he and Julia were at the moment, and a part of him could not help but be angry at her sudden shift, from loving embrace to cold distant friendship.

  “Then it is a fortunate thing you were not with that fool Flaminius, I must say.”

  “It is as bad as they say?” Gaius asked.

  Paullus glanced to his men, seemingly telling them with his stare to remain where they stood, before he placed his hand onto Gaius’ shoulder, leading him nearer to the wall where he lowered his voice and spoke.

  “It is much worse than they say.” Paullus thought for a moment as he looked up at Gaius with a renewed sense of familiarity. “That night at Varro’ entertaining dinner, I was impressed at your honesty. While he might soon be my father-in-law, the man can be a dreadful bore, made worse by his lapdogs. So, please, Gaius, share with me some more honesty. Tell me, what is your opinion among our people — how do they fare after the most-recent defeat?”

  Gaius was taken aback by Paullus’ personal question, one that he didn’t quite feel he was privileged to answer giving his status and position among men like Paullus. However, he would not lie either, so with a heavy sigh; he gave his answer.

  “Dreadful, I’m sorry to say. We are broken, and on the verge of defeat. The men have very little heart left, and the people don’t trust that our leaders or army can protect them. And Hannibal, he is no fool. He knows us better than we know ourselves, and I doubt regardless of what force we can manage against him, will do much good if we don’t completely rethink our approach to this war — namely, the thinking of our leaders, as each disaster could have been avoided if it weren’t for narrow-sighted, ambitious men.”

  Gaius felt nervous by the long silence shared between Paullus and him, when he finished his brief statement. If the man so wished, Paullus could have him sent to the farthest corners of the Republic on a whim, or perhaps worse. He did not dare to understand what game the senior was playing, political or otherwise. So, he waited for Paullus’ reaction.

  Paullus turned and glanced momentarily at Julia, who stood by with the best smile she could manage, even though Gaius could see she was also nervous.

  “You are right, my dove. He is quite the officer. It is shameful that Rome does not have more like him.” Paullus smiled as if a wonderful thought crept through his mind, as he turned back and continued speaking with Gaius.

  “Those men, outside, they are yours, correct?” Paullus asked.

  “They are mine — the Second Century of the First Cohort, Sixth Legion. I’m afraid that at the moment they are what remain of the Wolves, I’m sad to assume,” Gaius replied, wondering where the question was leading.

  “Very well, Centurion. I would very much appreciate if you camp your men on the Fields of Mars. I would like them to join the city guards and what ruminant of the legions we have left that have already trickled back to Rome over the past couple days. I do believe that some of the Sixth is with them, perhaps you legate is among them.”

  “I would hope so, sir,” Gaius beamed. He wasn’t aware that survivors of the Sixth were back in the city.

  “Regardless, I would like you take command of what men we have left if Valerius has indeed joined his ancestors. I will have them folded into the Sixth under your watch as Camp Prefect,” Paullus added with a slight grin.

  “Prefect, sir! I’m honored, but wouldn't that have to be approved by the consuls, which from my understanding, we are short two?” Gaius asked, truly shocked by Paullus’ statement. He hadn’t dreamed he could attain such rank, at least without another ten years of service, and even then, to be a prefect of Rome.

  “Then, it is a good thing the Senate has used its emergency powers to appoint me as Consul of Rome,” Paullus said, which surprised everyone in the room. He turned and looked over at Antony, who had remained silent, sitting down on the couch, enjoying his cup of wine. “And your father has been given the seat of Co-Consul, which is why I’ve come bearing such wondrous news. Where is he? I do hope he hasn’t fled the city quite yet,” the sarcasm was thick in Paullus’ tone, but Antony did not seem offended as he stood from his seat and answered.

  “No, he is still here. He is in his study at the moment,” Antony replied.

  “Well, please be a lad and fetch him for me.”

  Gaius couldn’t help but notice the tone in Paullus’ voice when he addressed Antony, as if he was just a child, even though he was only a year younger than Gaius.

  Antony did as he asked, first nodding his respect to Gaius, glad to see his friend well and safe, before he turned and went to retrieve Varro.

  Paullus turned back toward Gaius. “And as for you, I’ll grant you the temporary title of Prefect, until the proper documents can be drafted and approved, with all rights, status and privileges accustom. Do you approve, Prefect Gaius?”

  “It is, sir, an honor,” Gaius replied, failing to find the right words. “There is one concern, that isn’t regarding my men, but the civilians. I’ve invested quite a lot of time and energy in ensuring their safety. However, when we arrived before the gates of Rome, I found them locked, forbidding our people entrance and protection.”

  Paullus sighed heavily, lowering his head just a bit as he replied.

  “Yes, an unfortunate thing to happen, one which I did not approve of. You can rest easy, Gaius that the first order I will issue is for the gates to be opened, and martial law lifted. We must try to put this shameful past behind
us, and move forward.”

  Paullus rested his hand on Gaius’ shoulder, speaking to him with bolster, as if he was addressing the people.

  “I will raise new legions that will not falter under wrongful leadership as our previous commands had demonstrated. You and I, Gaius, we will march north once more to avenge the terrible costs that our brothers have already paid. When we do, Hannibal will tremble with fear at such a sight. We shall, with his demise, rid Rome of his disease, and usher in a new dawn for the Republic.”

  Gaius could not say anything, but only manage a false smile. He had heard similar statements before, and while he doubted that Paullus was as naive and ignorant as the previous two consuls, Gaius knew that Paullus had not faced Hannibal, had not seen what the man was capable of. Yes, Rome would recover, but too, Hannibal would be waiting for whatever the Senate sent against him.

  Paullus turned and faced Julia, now focusing his attention on her as he stepped before her, taking both hands in his and speaking with a loving voice.

  “When this messy business is over, my lady, we shall be wed. Together we will see our child grow in a new era, one safe from men like Hannibal and his ilk.”

  Julia managed her best smile and replied, “I look forward to such a wondrous time…my love.” Her eyes couldn’t help but drift toward Gaius. Paullus seemed to notice as an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Thankfully, a moment later Varro entered, drawing Paullus’ attention away, as he moved to tell his soon to be father-in-law the news.

  “Gaius…” Julia struggled to say in a low whisper, but there was nothing she could do as he abruptly turned.

  “I have to see my men to camp,” he said, unable to look her in the face.

  “Gaius, please,” she pleaded silently, grabbing hold on his arm, forcing him to stop. However, he refused to look back at her.

  “I…” Her mouth could not form words even though her heart was screaming out.

  Gaius saved her from having to speak.