Sword of Ares

by Alex Morgenstern

  “It must have been written somewhere,” Walerius shook his ugly head.

  “We do not keep written records. You have our names from the last census. And it's been more than three months since the last one.”

  Walerius put his hands over his head.

  “No way,” He started laughing angrily, then jumped to his feet.

  He was panting. He clenched his fists and violently kicked the wooden table. Alana covered her face in fear. Walerius turned to her, frowning, and his scars made him look more frightening than ever.

  Chapter XI - A New Beginning

  “Are you out of your mind?” Lukrezia held little Lenna in one arm while she dusted the pantry with the other, her fiery eyes fixed on her husband.

  “My love, it is my duty,” Cladius said.

  She looked away, frowning. Her pumpkin-coloured hair was messy. It always was.

  “What do you think this is? Do you think it’s just a joke, for me to wait for you like a little teenage wobbling virgin who doesn’t know about life while the husband is having his way with prostitutes?”

  “Lukrezia! How can you say that! How can you? In front of the children! I haven’t even done any of that, ever!”

  “Do you want to die? Do you know why I married you? Because I was tired of seeing widowed women. One third of the women I know are widows. I had to find a man who would not leave me. I should have known, it was just about the timing.”

  He took a deep breath. The words were harsh, but he knew she loved him, no matter what was coming out of her mouth.

  “Love, I am just going away for a few weeks. It is not the end of the world.”

  “A few weeks? Didn’t you say the man killed the whole tribe and is blackmailing you? He is going to kill you! He is going to turn me into a widow. You are!”

  “Lukrezia, please.” Cladius lowered his voice. As if it could help.

  “I won’t let you go! And if you go! I’ll go with you. I’ll follow you to the damned forest or pack myself in your bag.”

  He sighed. “Alright, love, let me just go and meet the Senator today.”

  “You won’t step out of the city. You won’t go anywhere without me knowing.”

  “Fine,” he said, putting on a fur coat. The commotion had brought two of his other children to the atrium. Lana was staring from behind a pillar, her black eyes opened wide and worry in her expression. His eldest son Heracles, with his curly black hair and hazel eyes, also stared from there. Both had dark skin like him, and luckily did not have their mother’s personality. Cladius could see the worry in their eyes. Their mother’s cries made it even more dramatic.

  Lukrezia had finally stopped. There was silence. The servants cleared up the dining table without saying a word to each other behind the wide windows.

  “Is it true you’re leaving, Daddy?” Lana asked. Her big eyes were moist.

  Cladius sighed.

  “Lani, I don’t know yet.”

  His wife’s voice scratched the air around him:

  “You’re gonna leave your children alone! You don’t even know if you’re gonna come back.”

  “Lukrezia. Please. I’m just going out for dinner.”

  “Don’t go!” Lana said.

  “Please,” Cladius shook his head. “It will be alright.”

  Lana ran toward him and embraced him. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “Lana I’m just going for dinner. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “Mum says you may never come back.”

  “Darling, I’m just thinking of going to Tharcia. And if I ever do, it will be safe.” Cladius thought of all his military friends who had to routinely bid farewell to their families. Had he spoiled them with his constant presence? How could he even get them to marry?

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I’ll be alright.” Cladius patted on her hair. He took a deep breath.

  Lukrezia’s defiant glance was still fixed like a nail on a door frame. And even then, she was holding out the emotion. Cladius walked away. He had learned to put it all away just to let the house’s tension evapourate in the wind.

  The rocky street in the city centre awaited him with the usual evening traffic of chariots, horses, and people pushing through. From there, he could see the huge aqueduct of stone and the highest temples and monuments that stood like square hills of red and beige. The buildings towered with roofs of red tiles and painted pillars. He walked as fast as he could with his deformed leg.

  Walpatinus’ house was closer to the temple of Jupiter, an unmistakable behemoth of architecture. His neighborhood was always neat and clean, as it was expected of a patrician residential area.

  He crossed on the second intersection, into a tight diagonal street that could shorten the path. It was silent, and as the sun was in its latest hours, just a glimpse of red sky could be seen from the ascending hill. No one else was walking by, and there was nothing to fear.

  That he thought until a carriage rode slowly next to him, with two beautiful white horses with trimmed manes and golden plates covering their muscular chests. Cladius couldn’t help turning toward the carriage. Its wooden frame had a big opening where elaborate curtains covered an open window. Inside, he caught a glimpse of a middle-aged man with an eye patch, next to a much younger woman with long black hair, a pale face, and a beautiful complexion.

  Cladius paled the instant he recognized the man. Larius’ face slowly turned toward him, as if acknowledging his presence. The carriage continued its march.

  Cladius stood there, confused. No. Why should he worry? It had to be a coincidence, nothing else. He slowed down his pace.

  The carriage continued its way and turned left at the corner. Cladius continued slowly, expecting to turn when the carriage was already gone.

  He panted a bit, as the street had become steep. When he finally got to the corner, he noticed the carriage had stopped, and a figure with brown hair was down. Cladius quickly went back to his corner and stood behind the wall. No, he should not worry that much, maybe Larius just wanted to say hi or be intimidating, but there was no real danger. Or was it?

  He stepped backwards, turned, and ran down the street. Maybe he should take the longer route. He panted as his heart rate went up and heard the rolling of wheels behind him. He turned his head and saw the carriage advancing toward him. The harsh rocky path pounded against his feet, especially the deformed one.

  The chariot moved forward, surely capable of catching him. Especially in that dark alley, whatever they wanted, they were up to no good. Cladius did not want to get threatened nor interrogated by those thugs. But his small foot was a hindrance, it had always been. He cursed as he limped and collapsed to the ground.

  The chariot went on and stopped next to him. Cladius cursed again. The curtains opened and Larius stepped out, jumping down and wiping the dust from his tunic.

  “Senator Cladius, did we scare you? It’s just us.”

  Cladius’ face was still pressed against the cold flat rocks. Larius offered him a hand.

  “Oh. It was you. Good to see you,” Cladius muttered, grabbing the hand and standing up. He panted.

  “I apologize,” Larius said.

  “No worries.” Cladius wiped off his tunic. The fur coat had protected him from bruises and scars. That would be distasteful for a meeting with Walpatinus. “I thought I was going to get mugged.”

  “When have you seen a mugger in a chariot with golden curtains?”

  “Big rats are the worst, you know,” Cladius said, massaging his own back.

  “So, Cladius? Where were you going? Should we give you a ride?”

  “Not necessary.” He scratched own his curly hair. “I was just walking around.”

  “Come on. Aren’t we comrades? I tell you everything. Oh. Where are my manners? I’m an old barbarian, as you see. Let me introduce you to my good friend Helena.” Larius turned toward the carriage and pointed at the window. “Helena, da
rling, come down.”

  The woman’s face emerged from the chariot, her hair perfectly combed and long, probably down to her hips. Her pale face had a perfect contrast of dark make-up around her eyes and lips red as blood. She smiled coyly.

  “I won’t go down, Las, this might get my dress dirty.”

  “Don’t be rude.” Larius narrowed his eyes.

  “Tell him to come up, Las,” the woman said.

  “Now you stop acting like a child or I’ll teach you a good lesson,” Larius said.

  “I don’t want to get my dress all dirty.”

  “Come on. Don’t be foolish.”

  He turned toward Cladius. “You know how these women are. So, Senator. I insist. Come in. Let all our differences be forgotten. Alright?” he said, patting his shoulder.

  “I understand that, Larius. And I thank you, mister, but I prefer to be alone.”

  “Fine. Fine!” Larius said, letting go of him, and climbing back into the chariot. “Have a good day and see you again.” Larius smiled with his pale lips, and the driver whipped the horses; the carriage started rolling again.

  Cladius sighed, relieved, and he walked back up. He realized he had hurt his knee, and his pace became slower.

  He was left wondering what Larius wanted. Was it just intimidation? Who knew. Anyway, he’d be better off if no one knew what he was up to. If he was to leave the country, he had to do so immediately. There was a chance that Larius was going back to Tharcia. That was, however, a huge province, so the risk of meeting him was probably low.

  Cladius walked slowly through the ever higher streets, as the temple of Jupiter’s magnificence could even be felt in the air. It towered like a massive canyon of marble and beauty, with golden eagles towering over the ceiling and pillars of almost five feet in diameter. Myriad salesmen stood next to endless stalls of incense sticks, others next to pigs and fowl crammed in wooden cages. The smells were not pleasant. As he passed by the temple, he could see the magnificent statue inside, barely covered by velvet curtains so high they could only adorn the windows of giants. There, beyond a long crimson carpet, sat the great King, the master of Thunder, his naked torso painted and life-like. The men and women that passed by the statue looked like mere mice under a power-god. His throne may have been pure gold. A great fire and a million candles lightened the inside with golden light.

  As he passed by, he called the god in his own mind, and begged the master of laws and of the lightning bolt of justice to protect him. After all, his cause was just.

  He solemnly left the surroundings of the temple, and he moved to the terraces of the city. A few soldiers with galeas on their heads and chain mail on their shoulders patrolled the area, as if ensuring only free citizens entered, or high class slaves such as gladiators or musicians under special invitations.

  He advanced through the narrow terrace, where wealthy couples stared at the setting sun, and small boys in silk clothes played with wooden toys. Life was good up there.

  The third house had an engraving with the family name and a small effigy of the Huntress and the Owl at the entrance, with a few golden coins beneath her painted feet. That was the house. He walked toward the bright wooden door and knocked with a golden knocker.

  The door opened promptly. Old Walpatinus stood inside, wearing a green cape over his toga.

  “Cladius! My son, welcome,” Walpatinus hugged him and kissed him in the cheek. “What happened to you?” The old man clasped his cheek with two fingers. “You look like you just ran at the Olympics. With your clothes on.”

  “Thank you for having me,” Cladius said.

  “Come on in. They’re waiting for you.”

  “They?” Cladius raised an eyebrow and followed the old man through the beautiful atrium. The old Senator had gathered a collection of marble statues that made his garden look like a temple. They stood in the midst of a forest of flowers and imported bushes, most of them rare and unusual, strangely green in the late autumn. Cladius couldn’t help but stare.

  But the question remained. Who did he mean by they?

  As they walked toward the main entrance, dozens of servants passed by carrying silver trays.

  “Dinner is ready now. You arrived just in time. Come on, lie down by the table.” Walpatinus said with a fatherly smile.

  Cladius nodded and went through the door with the marble pillars. His heart stopped for an instant as he saw bronze coloured hair reclining next to a woman with raven-black locks.

  Larius smiled at him like an old friend. Cladius wished the earth swallowed him.

  “Oh, so you were headed here.” Larius stood up, his companion remained sitting. “What a surprise!”

  Cladius froze. His tongue did not respond.

  “Alright. I know,” Larius went on. “I knew all about your meeting. Come on in. Make yourself comfortable. I have great news for you.”

  Cladius had no back up plan.

  “And there are more guests.” Larius looked at the next room. “Hey, big eye, we’ve got our mutual friend here. Ready to do some business!”

  “I’m coming, Laz,” responded an effeminate voice. Tiranus leaned out, wearing a golden toga and shining bracelets. “Eh, the decent man. It’s you.” Tiranus chuckled and went by him, and he walked by and greeted the stiff Larius with a kiss in the forehead.

  Chapter XII - Mad Dog

  “Let's get back before you get me into trouble.”

  Walerius put on his armour again. He looked as if he could melt the earth with his glance. “Get ready,” he spewed.

  “Sure,” Alana answered, rushing to the corner and putting her blue cloak back on. Walerius had already tied the sword to his belt and put the knife away. She thought of finding a weapon for herself. She looked through the makeshift table and the ground beneath but did not find anything.

  “Let's get going,” he said.

  “I’m coming,” she muttered, scanning through the tables. The only thing that seemed useful was an old rusty iron nail. She quickly grabbed it and put it in her cloak’s pocket.

  “Don't think of stealing anything because that, darling, is severely punished.”

  “Right. I wouldn't do that,” she chuckled.

  “Fine. Let's get out of this place.”

  Alana waited until he had turned his back on her, and she dashed through the curtains to snoop through other compartments. No weapons around, they had taken them all.

  “Stop playing around,” Walerius said.

  Alana rushed to the center, heading toward the exit. On the ground, where a wooden pole stood, she found a grill and pots underneath. The sky was uncovered, but the canopy was tied to that pole, along with the stakes on the other side. There, she found something. She knelt quickly and grabbed a small knife, probably used for cutting ropes, and a rope that lay on the floor like a coiled serpent. She stuffed it in her pockets and followed Walerius to the exit.

  “What were you doing there?” he asked.

  “I had to tie my bootlace.”

  “Mithras be damned! I made a mistake with you. Hopefully, there are still women left. Now, don't let me get there late.”

  They walked down into the forest as a few men were walking up toward the camp, forcibly taking their war brides by the arms.

  “I prefer to die!” one of the women said. Others silently accepted their fate.

  What would happen now?

  “Hey, Walerius. Did they give you a broken one?” asked one of the soldiers.

  “This wench is married to the son of an Imperial General,” he responded bitterly.

  “What?” The other soldier was horrified. “And they didn't know? That is messed up.”

  “You know, bad communication. Anyway, I'll get going to see if I catch something.”

  She cleared her throat. “Are all these soldiers single?”

  “Some single, some divorced. Some just want an extra wife.”

  “Extra?”

  “Ye
s. It's permitted now.”

  “Who would do that?”

  “Why not? A new law permits soldiers to have wives on different provinces. One per province.”

  She narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

  “Soldiers have to dissipate the energy, you know, and harlots don't give the same treatment. Also, the legion will need a constant supply of soldiers.”

  She rolled her eyes in disgust.

  “Fine,” she said. “Maybe it’s a cultural thing. I had never thought of that.”

  “Sometimes people do it,” he said.

  “Yes. Anyway, I have my husband and I wouldn’t change him, you know.”

  “Give it a couple of years.”

  If they found out she was lying, it would be her end. What did she have to do now? She would find Kassius. If they had registries and censuses and all that, Kassius was probably still alive and relaxing on his farm.

  She kept walking slowly, drifting away from Walerius.

  On the other hand, if they found no record and her neighbors corroborated, even unwillingly, telling them that she was not married, that was another way to end her.

  The end of that could be even worse than being forced in marriage.

  The tall pine trees were becoming more common and the forest denser.

  She thought of running away, but the soldier's huge legs could catch her quickly, so she kept walking slowly, steadily, between the trees and fallen leaves, striding upward until she stopped behind a tree and watched Walerius walk down toward the clearing.

  She stood behind the oak, looking at him, hoping he would be fooled to leave her, as her heartbeat raced. He kept walking. The plan was working.

  Suddenly. He turned around.

  “Woman?” he asked, looking around. “Woman, where are you?”

  Alana stood still, holding her breath. Walerius walked back through the path, looking around. Then, he knelt on the floor, scanning through the space between the leaves like a hunter.

  He knew how to track footprints.

  He moved slowly, noticing that her footprints were missing, then he strode back, approaching where she was. He was close to her and stopped when he was parallel to the oak. Alana moved swiftly, to hide her body behind the wide tree-trunk. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. Alana felt her stomach churn inside. Maybe that was the time to run.