To Crown a Caesar (The Praetorian Series: Book II)

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To Crown a Caesar (The Praetorian Series: Book II) Page 7

by Crichton, Edward


  “Why do you keep calling me that?” He asked nervously. “My name is Lucius, not Servius.”

  “No, it’s not,” I said sternly. “Your real name is Servius Sulpicius Galba. You only took the name Lucius Livius Ocella Sulpicius Galba from your step mother and her family, who loved you dearly and raised you as one of their own.” I saw his eyes widen in surprise. “Now, let me tell you another story. One about you, me, Rome, its future, and how I need your help to ensure its very survival.”

  III

  Galba

  Mission Entry #3

  Helena Van Strauss

  Vindonissa, Germania Superior - April, 42 A.D.

  My turn.

  It seems only fair that someone other than Jacob have the opportunity to tell our story. He’s always been too secretive for his own good. Stubborn and arrogant too. But while that stubbornness was one of the many reasons I fell in love with him all those years ago, it’s also what brought us here today.

  In a place I don’t want to be.

  I sit here writing this entry from within Galba’s tent, at the very center of a fortress filled with tens of thousands of armed and dangerous men, all of whom wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to cash in on the Whore’s reward for our heads. To someone like me or you, this may seem crazy, but to someone like Jacob, it’s completely normal.

  The man I love is on a mission, and when he’s on one, it’s best to stay out of his way.

  The man I love.

  I’ve found it harder and harder to regard him in that way for maybe six months now, ever since his plan became less theoretical and more like an obsession. I don’t feel wrong in questioning my feelings for him when his fixation suddenly became more of a priority to him than I was. And I don’t mean that in a jealous way. What I mean is that he no longer seems to care about anything I have to say, if he even bothers to ask.

  He doesn’t seem to care about anything.

  If only he hadn’t been like this before, I wouldn’t worry about him. At the very onset of our arrival here in ancient Rome, Jacob had placed all responsibility for bringing us here on himself, refusing to admit otherwise and pulled away from the only people he could trust. I was already in the process of loving him by then, but I couldn’t bring myself to act on it until I knew for certain he wasn’t a self-obsessed megalomaniac. I hadn’t known him for more than a few months then, knowing that even the most gentle of people can have a dark side.

  But I was lucky. Jacob changed and committed himself to working through his issues, but now he’s doing it again. I feel like I’m losing him to inner demons that have always persisted in his mind and always will… but even though I know I have to be there for him… I’m not sure I can.

  As for Galba, well, he hasn’t taken the news we came here to tell him very well. Not well at all. When Jacob first began his story, Galba seemed fine, pacing around the room distractedly stopping only occasionally to glare at me as if all this is my fault…

  Which irritated me.

  Men have always underestimated me, beginning with my father, and I’ve never understood why. Why is it that I always had to prove myself just to gain an inkling of respect? Even Caligula and Galba, and every other legionnaire I’d met, all shorter than me, had underestimated me. They thought I was weak but they learned. I broke a man’s nose and almost killed another, all to prove I was just as special as they were.

  Like I said, they learned.

  During the Battle for Rome, I was just another one of the guys. They even made me a set of legionary armor for me that actually fit. It was sweet. Galba spoke to me directly once, and after my near death experience, Caligula himself even came to sit with me. It was cute, and I really appreciated it. His acceptance was honestly the first time I’ve ever felt truly appreciated.

  Galba just slumped across his desk.

  Jacob hadn’t been kidding when he said he was going to tell Galba everything.

  He started with Galba’s backstory. It was the only thing he knew he could say that would prove he knew more than he should, or could. Then he told Galba how everything should have played out, with Caligula going crazy and Claudius taking over. Jacob continued with Nero and the atrocities he would let happen – how he would let Rome burn, blame it on the Christians and build a giant palace on the spot where homes were destroyed. Then, he told him about his own attempt to take control upon Nero’s death and how he had failed and died, the first of three, before Vespasian took control. Jacob finished by telling the tale of Rome’s fall, followed by as much European, Muslim, Asian, and American history as he could in the last hour. He mentioned the Dark Ages, the medieval period, the Renaissance, the discovery of America, the unification of European territories into their own sovereign nations, and more history than I ever knew existed.

  I had to give him credit. He was a good teacher. He was as patient with Galba as I could see him being with his young students trying to grasp a new concept. It was adorable actually.

  I’m trying to catch up here, but I think I heard him mention the third world war that was going on in 2021. He made sure to mention the technical advancements and the terror they brought. Chemical, biological, nuclear warfare. He mentioned Nagasaki and Hiroshima, and the utter destruction that was unleashed on God knows how many Japanese...

  It just occurred to me that if Jacob is right, you may have no idea what I’m talking about.

  Sorry.

  I made sure to watch Galba’s posture during the presentation. As I said, he paced at first, but by the time Jacob got to the fall of Rome, he’d stopped to stand near his desk. With William the Conqueror, he was still standing, but had his fists on his desk as he leaned heavily on them. When Jacob got to steam power, airplanes, electricity, the moon landing, and the internet, Galba was seated at his chair, his hands clutching his ears as he hung his head, trying to wrap his mind around everything Jacob had just unleashed upon him.

  Now he was slumped on his desk.

  The poor man.

  He’s had his whole world upended. He’s just been told how everything he’s worked for was all for nothing, and that in the end, his entry in the Oxford Classical Dictionary was only a few lines long, at least that’s what Jacob once told me about the man. Very few even remembered his name anymore. I know I hadn’t heard of him. And he’s just been asked to help Vespasian and try to forget the fact that history will remember him as little more than a footnote.

  Okay, I’d better wrap this up.

  Galba mentioned Agrippina and Nero were on their way to oversee the preparations for the invasion, and I know Jacob will want to take Nero as soon as possible, but mark my words, if I get within arm’s reach of Agrippina, I will dig her throat out with my bare hands. Despite everything, I’ll never forgive her for what she did to Jacob. I owe him that much.

  Caligula as well.

  They deserve their vengeance.

  I glanced over at Helena, who had been feverously scribbling in my journal while I told Galba the longest story I’ve ever had to tell. She was shaking her hand after dotting her last period with an odd vigor, an angry expression on her face. She returned my look, and even though she quickly averted her eyes back to the journal, she slowly looked back at me, her expression softening. I gave her an earnest smile, which I was surprised to see returned. Seeing it, my own smile widened and I wanted nothing more than to embrace her, tell her how much of an asshole I’d been and that it was time to work through our problems.

  Every muscle in my body urged me to do it, but I was distracted by the shape of Galba slowly rising from his chair. He got up and moved towards the tent’s entrance and opened the flap to peer out into the morning darkness. Dawn was just around the corner, and I knew we’d overstayed our welcome. I had just summarized an entire world history course in a little more than an hour, but the story needed telling. Maybe Galba would let us hang out here until nightfall again if he decided not to kill us.

  His head sagged forward as he closed the flap, making his way back
to his desk.

  “What you’ve told me,” he paused, sitting slowly, “is very hard to accept.”

  That was probably an understatement.

  “To think that all of what Rome has built will one day fall, only to be replaced by a religious cult that worships a single deity is difficult to imagine.” He smiled just slightly. “But, if it is as you say and this… Pope, as you call him, is so powerful; it is not hard to believe that he would of course be ruling from Rome.”

  He paused again to take in a deep breath. “I have seen what you can do. Your ability to channel the sun’s power to create your own light. Your weapons. The manner of your clothing. Your night seeing devices. All of it is logical were I to only accept your story.” He looked me squarely before continuing. “I knew you were not from some far away land or mythical island, or even descendant from gods. This… makes sense. I know of Archimedes, and some of what you describe seems based on his principles. It would only be a matter of time.”

  “You’re right, Galba,” I heard Helena speak up. “You Romans were the foundations from which our society grew. It’s something to be proud of, not mourned.”

  “But what of this alternate… story? Where Claudius is a great emperor?” Galba wondered aloud. “The thought of it seems so foreign to me, the bastard that he was, but the way you say it, even though you lived through it, is as if you don’t even believe what you experienced yourself.”

  “You have to look at it from our perspective,” I clarified. “I remember learning about Rome when I was just a teenager, and how Caligula had gone crazy, died a few years later and left Rome in Claudius’ very capable hands. Having seen it unfold differently is a foreign concept to me, exactly as you say. I still think I dreamt it up on occasion.”

  Galba sat heavily in his chair, his eyes locked with some random object on his desk, lost in thought. I glanced over at Helena again, and while she looked concerned Galba might not go for it, she stayed supportively silent near the entrance to the tent. She pulled the flap to the tent open momentarily to peak outside and gave the camp a quick inspection before looking back at me, tapping her watch.

  I looked back at Galba. “Sir, we need to hurry this up.”

  He looked up quickly, startled. He took a breath. “I need time to think on this. Vespasian is young and inexperienced. I only just heard of him three years ago when he was an upstart tribune in a legion I cannot even remember. When he was given a legion and promoted to the rank of legate prior to the invasion of Britain, I was even more surprised. And now you stand before me, asking me to support him as the next emperor of Rome?”

  I held both of my hands in the air, trying to remember that thirty kids would probably be more difficult.

  “He is young, yes, and while he wouldn’t have been emperor for close to thirty years from now, we can already see the beginnings of what made him so great. Look at where you are,” I concluded, sweeping my arms out in an expansive gesture, taking in the camp.

  “Indeed,” he muttered. “I won’t lie to you. A few hours ago, the only thing I felt towards young Vespasian was anger, resentment, and, yes, jealousy. This would have been my command if not for the audacity of Agrippina.”

  That piqued Helena’s interest. “What do you mean, ‘the audacity of Agrippina’?”

  Galba looked embarrassed. “She approached me. Romantically. I was flattered or course, but I am already married.” He paused. “My mother slapped her.”

  I whistled through my teeth, interested because the exact same thing happened in the original timeline. Agrippina made an advance on Galba, he denied her, and his mother slapped her. It only added to the theory that specific events continued to play themselves out, even if the timeline is altered slightly.

  That thought in mind, I never could imagine what the lovely Agrippina saw in a man like Galba.

  “So, instead of giving you command, she gave it to Vespasian?” Helena asked him, still standing guard by the entrance.

  “Yes,” Galba replied sourly. “Besides, he’s the ‘Hero of Britain.” If you believe the stories they say about him, he managed to subdue the entire island with a single legion in a week. I will admit he has surpassed everyone’s expectations, even mine, while all I’ve done for the past three years is stew in Iberia.”

  “So, what about it?” I pressed. “I understand how you feel, but after everything we’ve told you, will you help us?”

  “I need time to think,” Galba said. “Come back in a few days. By then, Agrippina and Nero should be here, and if I decide to help you, perhaps I’ll help you take him. Honestly, I understand what you say about him. I’ve seen him occasionally over the past few years, and he is nothing if not a spoiled brat.”

  I smiled. “You see? I wasn’t…”

  I was interrupted by the blaring of Roman horns off in the distance and the rumbling of tens of thousands of men waking from their night’s slumber. Helena peeked outside, but signaled she couldn’t see anything yet. My radio earpiece crackled to life.

  “Uh, guys?” Santino’s distorted voice whispered. “You’ve got incoming.”

  “What do you mean, ‘incoming’?” I replied immediately.

  “I mean there’s a giant fucking boat sailing up the river.”

  “What does it look like?” I asked.

  There was a pause. “Jacob. It’s huge. What more do you want me to say? It’s half the size of the river, maybe a football field long, and has a few buildings on the deck.”

  His description immediately reminded me of the Romans pleasure barges that were used as drifting palaces. I had watched something on TV about archaeologists discovering one in Lake Nemi in the 1920s. Prior to the find, society had no idea they even existed. When it was discovered, lost revelations about Roman technology and engineering were uncovered. With the discovery came the first evidence of an anchor being used on a ship, something thought invented much later. As were ball bearings, another something that wasn’t reinvented until the eighteenth or nineteenth century. The ship also had heated and cooled running water as well. The discovery had been an archaeological treasure trove.

  Another was later found, but each had only been the size of about two tennis courts, not a football field if I recalled properly. But those boats were constructed under Caligula, inspired by his own designs. I wouldn’t put it past Agrippina to take similar designs and add to them, making her new ship a combination of the two and therefore far grander than those of her late brother. Still, I doubted it was the size of a football filed, but if this boat of Santino’s was one of these floating palaces, it could only mean Agrippina had arrived earlier than expected. I relayed my information to Galba.

  “That must be Agrippina,” he confirmed. “I did not know she was arriving by her pleasure barge, but it doesn’t surprise me. It is a grand spectacle.”

  “Why is she even here?” Helena asked, more anger than curiosity in her voice.

  “Why else?” Galba replied nonchalantly. “She wants to be a part of the campaign.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I asked. “Who’s running Rome?”

  “I’m sure she has plenty of Senators completely loyal to her that she has left in charge. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time the head of state was on campaign with the legions.”

  I nodded as the sound of men rushing about grew louder outside, which meant our escape plan was blown. Galba seemed to understand.

  “It seems you will have to stay here. We’ll be busy all day with Agrippina arriving early, as Vespasian had plans to assemble the entire army to welcome her, but I do not believe he will have the time now.” A small smile formed at the corner of his mouth at the small setback for Vespasian.

  I nodded and moved over to his bed and sat on its edge. “Works for me.”

  Galba shook his head. “You do not understand. I may send couriers to gather materials I may need for a meeting or have them place correspondence on my desk.”

  “So where are we going to hide all day?” Helena
asked with a glance around the tent.

  I bounced on the bed before picking up the sheets that hung over the side and smiled. She rolled her eyes, but moved to sit next to me all the same, removing her vest and duty gear.

  “Do you have a place where we can store our gear?” She asked.

  In response, Galba opened a simple cabinet full of his legionary armor and gear. He removed his equipment and we replaced it with our own, removing our combat jackets and boots as well, placing everything neatly inside. Helena moved beneath the bed first, but I paused for a last few words with Galba.

  “Um. I wouldn’t mention we’re here if I were you.”

  He looked at me slyly, at least as his slyly as his ugly face could allow. “After everything you have just told me, do you really think I would give you to her now?”

  I shrugged. “Never can be too trusting.”

  Galba laughed. “That is a grand understatement. Will you need any food or water before I go?”

  “No,” I replied. “We’ll be fine. Just remember to keep in mind what we spoke about today.”

  “How could I not?” He asked bluntly as he left the tent.

  Hoping he was as good a man as I thought he was, I handed the MRE and CamelBak blindly to Helena beneath the bed and slid in alongside her. The sheets concealed us entirely, and thankfully, the bed was high enough above the ground that the space didn’t seem too cramped.

  “Well, this is comfortable,” Helena commented, clearly anything but on the hard grass. “We have to spend a whole day down here?”

  “Hold on,” I said, reaching out from beneath the bed. Grasping something soft, I pulled it below to discover a feather pillow and a woolen sheet. I handed them to Helena and reached up again to find another pillow.

  “Such a gentleman,” she quipped as she maneuvered the blanket beneath the both of us.

  “I do try,” I said to a response of silence.

 

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