[Chronicles of Time 01.0] Chronicles of Time

by J. C. Allen

  “But... they belong to our father! He’s—”

  “Dead! He’s dead, Lucius! And we need the money, now go!” she ordered.

  The girls looked at each other guiltily; the shock of the kids’ father being dead knocked them back a bit.

  “But mother wouldn’t allow it, and she’s selling another blanket today, we’ll be fine as soon as our livestock matures and breeds,” he argued.

  Vespasia stood her ground and pointed defiantly while the girls watched the scene, disbelieving.

  Lucius attempted to defy his sister once more, “Mother will be furious!”

  Again, the small girl stood her ground, arm extended toward the house, directing him. “Then she shall be furious at me, and you won’t starve tonight!”

  He lowered his head and left. Titus followed.

  “Our father died two years ago in a battle. He was a soldier in the Thirteenth Legion. Our mother has been trying to keep the land ever since. We help harvest grain, tend the animals, plant crops, and weave fabrics, but most of the work is too hard for a strong man, much less a woman and young children,” the girl explained as she led them around the farm, pointing out where things needed to be done.

  “Lucius thinks mother will somehow manage, but we have slowly used up all that was left of father’s salary. Now we get only a couple coins a week from the blankets I weave and mother spends her time either gathering food or selling what I make. About all Lucius is good for is milking cows. Titus can’t even do that.”

  “That’s sad,” Alex commented.

  “Don’t feel pity for us, we’ll survive!” the Roman girl said with the same happy smile she wore when they met.

  Alex decided to try to change the subject, “So how much is this tunic he’s fetching worth?”

  “Oh, probably about five sestertii if it were new, but it’s used. I’ll let you decide. Anything is better than starving while it hangs uselessly.”

  Alex was floored with compassion for the story. She couldn’t imagine what kind of iron character this girl possessed after losing her father and what appeared to be a wonderful life. She hoped she could help. “Well, Da—, my father said to pay whatever you ask for it, he is quite rich.” She opened her pouch and stuck her hand in, returning with roughly 25 coins and held them out, “Do you think this would be enough for such a cherished family heirloom, and enough to curb your mother’s anger for selling it?”

  Vespasia’s eyes grew to the size of cantaloupes, “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly—”

  Alex grabbed her hand and placed the coins in it, spilling several to the ground. “Take it, it’s far less value than my father’s pride.”

  Titus came out just then carrying a studded leather tunic. It was a rich dark brown color with lighter tan strips of leather hanging from it. He approached the girls, who were each standing on the lower rails of a split-rail fence, leaning over with hay for the animals. “Lucius said to bring you this — he’s too busy crying like a baby.”

  Vespasia laughed, “Tell him to be a man for once.” She then turned to the girls, “He turns sixteen soon but still acts like a little girl sometimes. I have more chance of becoming a man than he.”

  “Do you really have to get married when you’re sixteen here?” Kaylie suddenly asked, forgetting where she was.

  The girl seemed confused, “Well, if you’re rich, yes. Some girls at twelve, but you should know—”

  “Oh, I just thought it may be different in different cities,” she quickly tried to cover her ignorance, “I don’t want my father to force me to marry.”

  “I was wondering why you aren’t married now, as wealthy as you are, you must be at least fifteen...”

  “How can you tell I’m not married?” Kaylie asked, now she was confused.

  “You don’t wear a stola, or… How far away did you say you lived?” Vespasia was becoming suspicious.

  “Oh, not too far, but I’m only thirteen. My father told me I could wait until we get settled in Rome though. We planned this journey when I was eleven,” Kaylie was trying her best poker face.

  Vespasia’s face lit up, “Oh, that makes sense, if you had married, you would have had to stay with your husband instead of your father and sisters.”

  “Yeah,” she hugged Christy, who was closest, “I couldn’t be away from my family.”

  Alex took the opportunity of a slight lull to remind Kaylie they were there for a reason, “Speaking of family, we must get back to father. He may be worried.”

  “Oh, yeah, we should hurry,” Christy added.

  “Can I go with you?” the bright-eyed Roman girl asked. Kaylie was mulling the question over when Vespasia asserted further, “I go into Rome often by myself — I can show you around the city. You could get lost or killed if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “We should ask father,” Alex finally answered for her.

  “Yes, certainly,” the girl agreed, “Go ahead and I’ll catch up — I can’t carry all this money or I wouldn’t make it back alive.”

  With that, Vespasia ran into the house while the girls walked briskly back to the brush, hoping to arrive before she caught up.

  The girl was on their heels a minute later, as they ascended the small rise to where Rick hid in the bushes. “You sure are in a hurry!” Vespasia panted, arms and ponytail swaying rhythmically as she ran. They allowed her to catch up. Together, they approached the bushes. Alex took the new clothes behind the bush and handed them to Rick, and alerted him of their new friend.

  Rick smiled at the thought that the girls seemed to make friends everywhere they went. It must be due to his wonderful parenting! He quickly dragged the tunic over his head, finding it fit surprisingly well.

  “So, she wants to be our guide? I see no problem with that — we could definitely use one,”

  “But what if she finds out what we’re doing here?”

  “This is a recon mission, soldier,” Rick teased, “I actually think we should tell her what we’re looking for. Another pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt,” he said, adjusting his outfit a little. “There, does it look good on me?”

  His daughter appraised him carefully, “Well, if you want the truth, it looks pretty stupid. But if you were going to battle, you couldn’t possibly be better dressed. At least you’re not wearing a towel with a hole cut in the center and no sides!”

  Rick chuckled and hugged her. They ducked out of the brush to be welcomed by the others.

  “You look good, Rick,” Christy blurted.

  Kaylie elbowed her and grabbed her arm, “Yes, Father, you look splendid,” she emphasized ‘Father’ for Christy.

  Apparently Vespasia didn’t notice the slip; she was staring intently at the man in her father’s clothes. She thought it was a dream, had she really been so disconnected from the loss of her father? She had always acted tough, as if it were honorable for a girl to lose her daddy at war.

  Rick saw she had frozen, but could not tell why. Her eyes started to form tears.

  “Hi, I’m Rick. I understand you would like to guide us through Rome?”

  She just stared blankly.

  “What is your name?” he tried.

  She started to answer, but couldn’t.

  Rick knelt down in front of her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders and softly shook her, “Are you OK?”

  She snapped out of her daydream about the last time she had seen her father in that outfit. “Oh… Hi, I’m Vespasia,” she stuttered, bashfully sticking her face in her tunic to dry the tears.

  “Vespasia! What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl! Are you going to be OK now?”

  “Yes,” she said weakly, then straightened herself and mustered some fortitude, “Yes, sorry, I just… thought I saw a ghost. You look just like my father did last time I saw him wearing that,” she explained.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I never thought how difficult that could be—”

  “No, it’s OK. It feels good to be able to help. We should be on our way,
shouldn’t we? I understand you’re in a hurry for some reason?”

  Rick glanced at the girls and motioned them all to start walking, “Yes, we need to go, please. Tell us about Rome, and yourself, on the way, will you? But I feel I should let you know why we are really here, first.”

  The girl looked up at him inquisitively as they walked side by side. He told her of the necklace and that it was to be given to Octavian today, but they did not know how. He explained that it was a priceless family jewel that meant a lot to them. She ate up the tale like french fries.

  They quickly learned that Vespasia was indeed a veteran of the city. She explained the exact route Octavian and his guards would be taking, how they could watch him, and how he could acquire the necklace. Eventually, she got around to telling about her life, the family, farm, house, and her escapades in Rome. Nobody was paying attention to anything but her. Alex asked specific questions about how they built their homes, what they were made of and how they cleaned them. Christy soaked up all the information she could about the sports they played. Kaylie talked on and on with her about clothes, and Rick prodded her for more information about the markets, army, and economy. Before they knew it, they were within the walls of Rome, staring at the exact steps Octavian would traverse in just a few minutes.

  Rick ushered the girls to where the video had ended then turned and faced where Octavian would arrive. He leaned over in a huddle with the girls and started giving instructions.

  “I’ll go ahead of you and see if I can find anyone suspicious,” Vespasia volunteered.

  “That’s a good idea. Thanks. If we get separated, we’ll meet you at your farm, OK?”

  She showed him her brightest smile and put her hands on her hips, “We won’t — I’ll know where you are!” She then turned and blended into the crowd.

  “OK. Remember, girls, use the necklace if there is any danger whatsoever to anyone. I will carry Christy and you two walk behind me, act like you’re looking at the food and wares for sale, but be looking for the necklace… it may be for sale and he may buy it.”

  “Why do you need to carry someone?” Kaylie asked.

  “So she can watch behind me and keep an eye on Octavian — unless you want to walk backwards and draw attention to us?” he explained. They giggled and agreed the idea made sense.

  They were at an intersection, hundreds of people shuffled around them. Kaylie saw two boys playing with a ball, trying to keep it away from each other with their feet. She tapped Rick’s arm and asked if she could go play.

  “You have four minutes, not a second more,” he answered.

  She smiled and bounced off.

  Alex then pulled him over to a stand where they checked out the food. “We should buy some bread and fruit for Vespasia’s family, Dad. Wouldn’t that be nice? Plus it would look a little more normal if we at least had one of these baskets.”

  “Go for it,” he replied and stole a glance down the street in anticipation of the future emperor.

  Alex picked what looked like a three-gallon basket and asked the elderly woman how much it would cost. Before the woman could tell her, she added two smaller ones, then two round loaves of bread, a dozen different fruits and some dried meat. The woman seemed overly pleased with the sale, which made Alex wonder if she had been shammed on the price. She simply smiled and handed over what the woman requested, plus two extra bits. The woman graciously thanked her and insisted she take an extra basket which would fit neatly inside the first one. Alex accepted the offer gladly.

  She excitedly ran to Rick to show him, but he was calling Kaylie, who had two boys fumbling all over the place trying to get the ball from her. They all converged in the center of the street and Christy urged Rick to pick her up with a playful look on her face. Rick hauled her up on one shoulder so she could watch behind them and keep an eye on Octavian, relaying the information right into Rick’s ear. Alex watched the street for Vespasia, but could not see her anywhere.

  Octavian, clad in a long, pure white robe with a golden rope belt and flowers in his hair, came up the street with his entourage in tow. He smiled at everyone, often waving like a beauty queen. This made Rick laugh uncontrollably when Christy explained it to him. The soon-to-be emperor finally turned and started to walk toward them. Rick walked a few yards ahead of the group, whispering in Christy’s ear to tell her to notify him if he needed to stop or go faster and watch out for the necklace to be handed to him.

  “This is fun!” was her cheery reply.

  “Just pay attention, OK?” Rick told her.

  Christy tried to give detailed commentary along the trip, “He just gave a little boy a coin. Awww, he’s so cute! He patted a little crippled kid on the head. Stop a sec, he’s kneeling down to give the kid something… oh, how sweet!”

  “Christy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Just the important details, OK?”

  “OK, Father!” she teased.

  Octavian must have given fifty coins to beggars and children, plus he handed out flowers to all the little girls and he stopped twice to buy clothes or food for orphaned kids.

  Rick’s arms were already growing tired and he could feel chaffing around his neck from the leather outfit and Christy’s squirming. They were nearly ten minutes into their stroll when Rick saw a commotion up ahead.

  A woman was screaming, “Thief!”

  Rick, at just a hair over six feet tall, was surprisingly well above the short crowd and could see now that it was Vespasia who the woman had by the hair, calling for help.

  “Two of the guards are running at us!” Christy almost yelled in his ear from the excitement.

  Rick lowered her quickly to the ground, “Stay with me, girls!” he ordered as he tried to follow the guards without looking too obvious.

  “What of this?” demanded the larger of the two guards on the scene. He was possibly an inch taller than Rick and twenty pounds heavier — mostly beer gut — with a scarred, square chin and a flat nose. If he had any hair, it was hidden under his helmet. His voice was deep and scratchy and brought fear into the eyes of the formerly perpetually happy child.

  “This rodent has stolen a necklace from me!” the woman reported. She was a fairly attractive thirty-something lady wearing a moderately expensive flowing purple robe. Her wavy black hair was tied tightly behind her head, but her eyes were hateful, taking away from her appearance greatly. Her brow scrunched up in a way that spoke of evil. The woman was tearing at Vespasia’s tunic, trying to get at the necklace the girl had tucked inside, enlarging several of the holes in her garment. The girl was trying to free her long ponytail from the wicked woman’s grasp, her legs and arms flailing around wildly, obviously also in pain from the tearing of hundreds of hairs from her head.

  Despite her painful and vulnerable position, Vespasia still managed to shriek, “I stole nothing! This woman tried to steal from me!”

  The bigger guard looked to the smaller one, passing a nod, the smaller one said, “Show us this necklace, street rat!”

  Rick came forward and wrenched the woman’s hand from Vespasia’s head, lifting the girl from the ground by her underarms to his side, where he cuddled her closely with his arms wrapped firmly around her. This startled both the guards and the woman.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself, wench, picking on such a small child!” Rick scolded, his voice filled with authority.

  The smaller guard butted in, “This woman is obviously a respectable one, while this child is obviously a—”

  Rick raised his hand as if threatening to swat the guard, which brought the sword of the larger guard out, by instinct.

  “What is it to you, veteran,” he said condescendingly, which made Rick realize he was wearing an informal military uniform. He immediately recognized the decorations on the man’s chest.

  He slowly released Vespasia and held her a few inches away, leveling his gaze at the bigger man, “Sorry, Captain, but this girl is my daughter… and certainly no thief. If you wish the tr
uth, she is carrying a yellow gem necklace I gave her for her twelfth birthday. It belonged to my mother.”

  The captain looked down at the frightened child, “Show us this necklace, girl,” he ordered.

  Vespasia made a good play of looking up at Rick as if to ask for permission.

  Rick nodded, “Yes, honey, show the captain your necklace. Why aren’t you displaying it; you were so proud of it…”

  “Sorry, Father,” the girl continued her part flawlessly, “but she kept trying to rip it from me so I tried to hide it inside my tunic. I got scared and tried to run away from her!” she was half crying through her explanation.

  What a good show, Rick thought, “Come on, Vespasia, show the good man your necklace,” he encouraged.

  She slowly stuck her hand down into her tunic and pulled the necklace out, her cries changing to a gloating smile.

  “She’s lying!” the hateful woman spat.

  The captain appraised Rick thoroughly, finally concluding, “The daughter of a veteran in the famous fighting Thirteenth Legion? Come now, I find that impossible to believe,” he determined.

  The Thirteenth Legion? Wow! He was wearing the uniform of Caesar’s most elite and most respected squad among all the Romans. He gathered his thoughts as he heard the captain speaking in praise of him. He began fumbling in his pouch until he found a similar stone, pulling it out to show. It was blue, but roughly the same size and shape.

  “See, we have several gems of this type,” he explained to the captain.

  The captain raised his eyebrows at the woman, who was quite shocked, indeed.

  “Arrest this woman!” The captain barked.

  “No, please, let her go. It may just be a misunderstanding. No harm has been done, and perhaps my daughter has learned not to stray too far from her father,” Rick said diplomatically.

  “She ripped my hair out!” Vespasia hissed.

  Rick clasped his hand over the little girl’s mouth, nodding at the guard.

  The guard unclenched his big meaty hands from the woman’s arms and she wasted no time stumbling away in retreat, eventually turning a corner and disappearing.