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

by Crichton, Edward

  I climbed out through our window and up to the roof. Our building was situated perfectly for a wonderful view of the Propontis, and I sat there and watched as the sun rose from the watery depths to claw its way into the sky. With no trees, buildings, or other obstructions, I almost understood how ancient man could believe the sun was nothing more than Apollo racing his chariot across the sky on its day long journey.

  I let the sun warm my face for a few minutes, relishing in the peace, quiet and tranquility the early hour offered. I felt calm, allowing the only negative thought in my mind to consist of the fact that this moment wouldn’t last forever. I let everything else fall away, basking in the glow of blissful ignorance, but as soon as the sun sat above the water line, its mirror reflection beneath it, I snuck back into our room.

  I slipped into the little cubbyhole I shared with Helena, a smile on my face. I pulled her dozing form in close and fell asleep. Three hours later, my smile was gone when Bordeaux walked in from his room, cheery and happy after a good night’s sleep. The rest of us weren’t quite so receptive and took a moment to throw pillows and blankets at him for being so fucking happy, so early in the goddamn morning, while Helena slept on uninterrupted. Wang even threw his pistol at him, but the large Frenchman simply caught it in midair. Two hours later, the rest of us woke on our own accord, complaining of stiff backs and sore muscles, all except for Santino, of course.

  After one last meat-on-a-stick for breakfast, we prepared to leave. I wasn’t ready to tell everyone what we were doing quite yet since my plan was still percolating in my own head, but once our gear was packed and loaded into our wagon, we headed east. Again. The only two exceptions were Gaius and Marcus. They were headed back to the German front so that they could report to Agrippina that we now possessed one of her time traveling toys. They didn’t fully understand why they were going, and I didn’t blame them. They said their goodbyes and dutifully left, sad to leave, but completely willing to do their part.

  Three days later, we now found ourselves well within Anatolia, modern day Turkey, a mountainous and desolate strip of land with few people and even fewer settlements. There wasn’t much to look at, except sparsely populated trees and an arid climate that wasn’t quite as barren as the desert region that was soon to come.

  We set up camp after a grueling third day of travel and turned in for the night. Once again, I found myself unable to sleep. Helena laid to my left, sound asleep as she always was, but there was nothing I could do. Even counting sheep failed. In a fit of frustration, I slapped my sleeping mat next to me, not even feeling bad because I knew it wouldn’t so much as disturb Helena.

  Sometimes I really hated her.

  But not really.

  With no sunrise to watch and no way to rejuvenate my body, I quietly got up and made for the tent’s exit. With a final glance at Helena, I shook my head. She always looked so beautiful and peaceful when asleep that it was hard to imagine any harm could ever come to her. My lips tightened at the thought, but I turned and left the tent, suddenly troubled.

  Our tents were arranged around a campfire, three modern and two homemade. A few dozen yards away, Wang was situated in our temporary observation post / listening post on overwatch duty for the entire camp. He controlled Santino’s UAV and could monitor the area around the camp from all directions. With him on duty, the camp was more than safe. I could have sought him out for a chat, but seated next to the campfire was Vincent, who was due to take over for Wang in half an hour.

  He was warming his remaining hand over the fire, wearing a light fleece jacket and his night op combat fatigue pants. It was cold tonight, so I had donned a fleece as well, but only wore a pair of black shorts over my legs.

  A short and chilly walk later, I joined Vincent by the fire, nodding my greetings to him. I sat on a log awaiting its turn in the fire and felt my shins and thighs begin to warm immediately. We sat there in companionable silence for a few moments, waiting as two patient men could, the quiet lingering for quite some time. After a while, he took an audible breath and stuffed his hand deep in a pocket and gazed up at the stars.

  “Beautiful night,” he commented.

  I glanced upwards as well to discover what could indeed only be described as a gorgeous night.

  “Yes,” I said vacantly. “It really is.”

  Vincent lowered his eyes to look at me and raised his eyebrows.

  “What is it, Jacob?” He said, sensing my apprehension. “You’ve never been very good at hiding the fact that you have something on your mind, and it seems four years hasn’t changed that.”

  “Really?” I asked. “Helena seems to have trouble with it from time to time.”

  He chuckled. “Helena is a very gifted young woman, but I’ve been around quite a bit longer than she has.”

  “True,” I admitted, before letting out a long breath, closing my teeth with a series of loud clicks, staring into the fire.

  After a few seconds, Vincent laughed again.

  “It’s all right,” he said between chuckles.

  “I don’t think it is, Vincent,” I said, shaking my head while I wrapped my arms around my knees. “Helena didn’t tell the whole story back in Byzantium. There’s more to it. Much more.” I paused. “Bad more.”

  Vincent nodded but remained silent, so I pressed on with everything.

  I started with Varus and our encounter aboard Agrippina’s barge. Vincent was interested to see the inscription Varus had provided me with, but was unable to make anything of it as well. It wasn’t something we were equipped to deal with at the moment so I moved on to what happened within Agrippina’s bed chamber.

  I told him about my encounter with the orb and about how it enticed me with its presence, beckoning me to use it, steal it, pick it up, something. I still couldn’t fully explain exactly what it had done to me in that moment, but the memory of how I tortured Agrippina was as fresh as ever. Vincent sat in silence as I detailed what I had done to her, and said nothing more when I began to close my tale by recounting the things Agrippina had said to me, the things that had planted utter confusion and reticence in my mind. I completed my story by telling him how I tried to kill her, and how I couldn’t quell the emotional anguish I still felt from it. Vincent let me grieve for a few minutes, my sobs threatening to rain tears down on our raging fire, but only just quite.

  “Have you spoken to Helena about this?” He asked finally when I’d settled down and composed myself.

  I found myself staring into the fire as he spoke and I forced myself to meet his eyes. “Mostly. Without her…” I paused, unable to find the right words, “…without her, I don’t know where I’d be right now, but she’s the only person I’ve been able to talk to about it at all.”

  Vincent shifted on his log and removed his hand from his pocket.

  “Then why did you feel the need to speak with me?”

  That was a good question. I wasn’t sure what I was seeking from Vincent. He wasn’t my father, in either the religious or paternal sense, but he was the next best thing. Maybe I sought acceptance or absolution, or maybe I just needed someone else to talk to. The older man sensed my apprehension and pressed his point.

  “You know I am not a priest. All I can offer you is little more than an ear to listen with.”

  “I know, but I thought that maybe…”

  “Maybe what, Jacob? That I’d listen to your sins, make you say a Hail Mary and two Our Fathers, and send you on your way? Helena is a wonderful, caring, empathetic person. What can I offer you that she can’t?”

  I threw my hands in the air and smacked my knees with them.

  “A different perspective, maybe? Helena is many things, but not exactly impartial when it comes to Agrippina. The only reason she’s accepted what I’ve done is because she thinks she’d have done the same thing, but she wouldn’t have. She isn’t affected by the orb like I am. No one else is. I… I could use a little direction here.”

  “You’ve been second guessing yourself,” h
e said matter of factly. “Hesitating. Questioning what was once natural instinct. Am I correct?”

  I glanced away again before meeting his eyes. “I haven’t been sleeping well either, actually. I don’t know what my problem is. It’s like my brain just shuts down and refuses to cooperate. Is that normal?”

  This time it was Vincent’s time to stare off into the fire. “To your last question, I have no answer, but I have seen what you are experiencing before.” He paused and closed his eyes. “In me.”

  “Sir?” I asked, wondering where he was going with this.

  He stood and moved around the fire to sit on a log closer to where I was sitting. After a few seconds he closed his eyes and said, “Hunter, I’m going to tell you something I haven’t spoken publicly of in almost thirty years. It happened just after I finished my required tour of duty in Switzerland, and found myself back in my home town of Kloten.”

  He stopped again, not a pause, but a complete shutdown of his thoughts. He worked his jaw, as if he were still contemplating telling me anything. I began to wonder if he’d renege on his story, but after thirty seconds, he finally continued.

  “On the first night of my return,” he started softly, with obvious hesitation, “I was reunited with my sweetheart of five years. We’d gone to school together and I was certain we’d be married just as soon as I finished my time in the service. I took her to dinner and a play that night, a small affair as the city is not big, but we had a fabulous time…” he trailed off, a small smile forming on his lips before he repressed it completely and his remaining hand balled itself into a tight fist. “But that night would soon become the worst of my life.

  “We were walking home through a dark alley, not dangerous, just dark, holding hands as we laughed and talked, but as we approached the main road, two men stepped out from around the corner. The first man pulled a gun on us and the second pulled a tire iron from his belt.

  “My first thought was that I could defeat them both in a fight. Look the hero to my girl. So I focused on the man with the gun, hoping he’d make the first move. He ordered me to take out my wallet and throw it on the ground. In retrospect, he seemed nervous. He kept his distance and never came any closer. I was such a fool. While I planned my assault, ignoring his demand, the second man stepped forward and hit my girl on the side of her head with the tire iron.”

  He paused again, and invisible tears streamed from hardened eyes that would never allow overt emotions to present themselves.

  “I threw them my money and they left, but she would never recover. I carried her to a hospital only to have the doctors tell me she was in a coma, and that they had no idea when she’d recover. Her parents arrived, only to blame me and banish me from the hospital, never allowing me to visit.” He expelled a lung full of breath as he recovered. “She’s still there. At least, she was before we came here. Her parents refused to take her off life support.

  “I’ve been to see her on every anniversary of the incident, despite her parents’ wishes, until the day we came here. Her sister was always kind to me and helped me see her, but I… I don’t think I’ve ever told her how much I appreciated her for it.”

  “I’m sorry, Vincent,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I had no idea.”

  “Very few do, Hunter, but the story is not yet complete. Two nights later, I tracked her assaulter down with the help of a friend in the police, and found him outside of a bar along with the gunman, and confronted them. I beat them both to within an inch of their lives. I can still remember as my fists drove home against their faces, pulverizing teeth and destroying bone…” his hand shook even more violently now. “I spent two hours keeping them awake before pummeling them again, just so I could do it all over again. The one who hadn’t done a thing ended up paralyzed, but both lived, and I didn’t care. I was nineteen years old. I knew then and there I was a different person.”

  I was shocked. Beyond shocked. Vincent had always struck me as the most patient, calm and unflinching individual I’d ever met. A man who always did the right thing. He never doubted himself and always made rational decisions. I couldn’t imagine him doing anything like what he was describing.

  “What happened?” I asked, incredulous.

  “I ran away,” he answered sadly. “I broke down. The anguish I felt for her and the anger I felt at myself drove me into self-imposed exile. I wandered through Europe for over a year, working odd jobs, begging in the streets. I was a wreck. Then… one day, I came back. I saw my sweetheart in the hospital, visited my family and changed my life.”

  “What made you come back?”

  “I just realized one day that I’d made the wrong choice. In a time of great need, I pushed my friends and family away when I needed them most, and nearly killed two men because of it.”

  It was at that point that I understood where he was coming from.

  “Neither man had any family,” he continued, “and no charges were ever filed. My friend in the police saw to that. It wasn’t something I wanted, but it was the reality I had to accept. I reenlisted with the military for a few years before finally joining the Swiss Guard. My first thought was to become a priest, but I knew after what I’d done that I didn’t deserve it. So, I did the next best thing. It allowed me the opportunity to utilize the skills I learned in the military and surround myself in one of the most holy of atmospheres.

  “I will tell you Jacob, the only people who have heard the entirety of this story are the priests I confessed this sin to on a near daily basis, and you.”

  I sighed, weary of hard choices and tough situations. I didn’t know why life decided to play such cruel tricks on me, on anyone really, but Vincent’s story reminded me I wasn’t alone. There were others with their own demons to battle and burdens to bear.

  “Thank you for your candor, Vincent, but what made you decide to tell me?”

  “Well, I think you deserved to know anyway, but,” he said with a look towards the stars, “you should know that I already knew what happened between you and Agrippina. Helena spoke to me about it early yesterday morning. Told me to be ready because she knew you’d come to me.”

  “She did, did she?” I asked with a smirk, not even close to surprised.

  “She did,” he confirmed. “Like I told you, Jacob, she’s a very special woman. You’d do well to remember that. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Talk to her. Use her. She wants you to. We all do. When you’ve done that, you can come back, and maybe I can help a bit too. But she’s the one you really want to listen to.”

  Our campfire had been entertaining me quite a bit that night, and I found myself staring at it once again, having never grown so fascinated by it than I was just now. Vincent’s words weren’t anything new. Helena had told me the same exact thing months ago under Galba’s bed. There, we’d aired our grievances, but never worked through them. That was also a mistake, and I couldn’t start throwing everything new concerning Agrippina under the bed now, especially when now was the time to confront them most of all.

  “Thanks, Vincent,” I said, turning back to him with a wry look on my face. “I knew talking to you would help.”

  He smiled and stuck out his remaining hand, which I grasped firmly.

  “So did Helena. Just remember. We all have our good moments and our bad, and some are worse than others, but regardless of which decides to surface at any given time, it’s how we handle them that define who we are.”

  I released his hand and stood up from my log.

  “I’ll remember that,” I said, turning back to my tent, “enjoy the rest of your night.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m getting too old for watch detail this early in the morning.”

  I laughed and left the older man to wait out his remaining time before taking over for Wang.

  My walk back to the tent was a slow one but once inside, I pulled off my boots and removed my fleece coat. The chill hit me like a swarm of daggers until I found my way under my s
leeping bag, which Helena was keeping nice and warm. I rested my head on the pillow just briefly before deciding to shift up close to Helena and wrap my arms around her, holding her close and tight. I brushed some hair away from her neck, and kissed it, knowing my subtle touch would do little to jar her awake.

  But after only the one kiss, she shifted where she lay and hummed pleasantly to herself.

  “That feels nice, Jacob,” she said softly. “You must have had a good talk then.”

  “You know,” I said, leaning up over her, “for a woman who could sleep through the apocalypse, you have an interesting talent for being awake exactly when I need you to be.”

  She squirmed in my arms, and shifted onto her other shoulder. She pulled herself close, pressing her cheek against my bare chest. “That’s because I love you, Jacob.”

  “I know, Helena, and that’s why I want to talk to you.”

  “Right now?” She asked

  “Right now.”

  She pulled back and looked up, using her hand to tilt my head down so that she could kiss me. She smiled at me and pulled away, resting her head against my chest again and closed her eyes.

  “I’m ready, Jacob. Always.”

  ***

  And we talked.

  And talked.

  We talked until dawn.

  We spent hours going over how I felt about Agrippina and what happened aboard that barge. She was quiet at first, but our talk quickly became one of the most heartfelt conversations of my life. I almost broke down again, not out of anger or even sadness, but just out of plain happiness at how lucky I was for having someone like Helena. She didn’t try to shower me with advice or attempt to justify what had happened to me. Didn’t explain that it was all the orb’s fault and none of my own. Nor did she have suggestions for what to do in the future. She did none of those things, the things most people hated to receive when seeking solace in another person’s company.

  Instead, she mostly listened. She requested clarification in places she didn’t understand, asked meaningful questions that drove the conversation deeper, and most important, didn’t allow her own overwhelming bias to get in the way. This was my time to vent and grieve, and she understood that.