by Peake, R. W.
How Caesar was going to accomplish this, Pullus had no idea, because nothing he had seen in the behavior and attitudes of these people indicated to him that they wouldn't fight, perhaps to the last inhabitant of their island. Still, Caesar had seemed very confident, Pullus reflected, and if it was an acting job, it was the best he had ever seen from his general. Finally, the litter came to a halt, then was laid very gently on the ground, but not before the bearers turned it sideways, so that one open side was now facing into the courtyard. Where Caesar had chosen to come to a halt had required the leading ranks to split and countermarch in two opposite directions, making the effect appear as if a set of curtains was being drawn aside. Still somewhat hampered in his view, Pullus finally found a spot from which he could just manage to see what was going on through the crowd of horses' legs. From this vantage point he saw his general, now alone and still mounted, surrounded on three sides by a double line, one composed of Legionaries and cavalry, the other of the rows of kneeling barbarians. The barbarians were universally clad in black, their equally black hair pulled tightly against their skulls, and the ponytails that stuck up from the back of their heads reminded Pullus of rows of freshly sprouted wheat in appearance, even with the color. None of them moved, and neither did Caesar, who lifted a hand that brought the noise of the horns, which had continued to blow throughout their entire progress to this point, to a sudden silence. For the next several heartbeats, the silence was utter and complete, without even the slightest whisper of the wind, and Pullus realized he was holding his breath. Slowly exhaling, it seemed to send a silent signal to Caesar, who suddenly began speaking. Pullus turned an ear towards the sound of the voice, and although it sounded like his general's voice, what was reaching his ears was completely incomprehensible. A sudden thought flashed through Pullus: was it possible his general had become unhinged? That the crushing pressure of this campaign had finally been too much for Caesar? Though he listened intently, the sounds and grunts that were, in fact, coming from Caesar were still completely foreign to Pullus, but there was a tug at his memory, a haunting whisper of familiarity that told him he had heard sounds like this before. However, when the thought came to him, he shook it off as too absurd. Except that it wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he tried to banish it. In the span of the next few heartbeats, Pullus was forced to acknowledge that the only time and place he had heard anything similar to what Caesar was uttering was in his very recent past. In fact, with a sense of stunned certainty, Pullus finally recognized that Caesar was speaking in the language of these barbarians!
As shocked as Titus Pullus was, it was a bare fraction of the impact it had on the assembled Wa courtiers and officials, when this grubworm began speaking in a tongue they could understand. The chief official, in particular, was so surprised that he committed the unpardonable breach of lifting his head to gape in amazement, his almond eyes going almost round as he quivered in a state of shock and fear. So overwhelmed was he that it barely registered that this...this being, speaking as a civilized man, mispronounced a number of words. At least as they were pronounced here in the capital. If the official wasn't faced with the evidence before him, he would have said that he was being addressed by one of the farmers in the southwest part of the island. No, it was definitely coming from this entity before him, his white face hidden behind a mask of red that made him even more terrifying to behold. His astonishment ran so deeply that the official was barely paying attention to the words, but he forced his reeling mind to focus.
"...I have led this army composed of the servants of the gods from the heavens to punish the Wa for their lack of respect to myself and my fellow gods," the being continued. "And now that I have proven my divinity by conquering your people and forcing your emperor to flee for his life, I demand that you render to me the proper obedience that befits a god. Is this understood?"
This was the first question that had been posed by the being, and the official felt all eyes of the rest of his assembled countrymen turn to him to supply the answer. But what answer could he give? Like most of the men of his status, the official was more educated than the vast majority of the Wa, and like educated men everywhere, he wasn't as prone to what he viewed as the superstitions of the peasants of his country. Whereas a farmer toiling in his fields might immediately accept what this being was saying about being a god, the official liked to think that he wouldn't be fooled so easily. On the other hand, he thought, what other explanation could there be? It was undoubtedly true that this being's army was mortal, because even from where he was kneeling he could see many of the grubworms sported bandages of varying sizes. And he had seen the attack by the royal guard left behind, daring to hope that they would actually achieve their goal of striking this being down. Many men in the grubworm army had fallen, but not this one. He had been untouched, yet again. The official vaguely recalled seeing what had to be a giant, but wearing the same style of armor and helmet as the rest of the grubworms, standing between what would turn out to be the last chance of the royal guard and this being. From where else but from the heavens would such a huge, pale creature come? And who else but a god could summon him to do his bidding? These were the thoughts that flashed through the official's mind in the pause between the being speaking and when it expected an answer.
Just when the being opened his mouth, staring down at the official with eyes that seemed to be made of the deep blue, glittering ice he had seen on his pilgrimage up the sacred mountain, the official blurted out, "Yes, lord. We understand."
Even if he had thought to perform one last act of defiance, the resolution that would be needed to do something had evaporated instantly, when the eyes of the official met that of this being. As unsettling as the pale color was, the being's piercing gaze that seemed to the official capable of seeing into the depths of his very soul quelled any such impulse. The being's face betrayed no emotion whatsoever; what the official had no way of knowing was that it was precisely for that purpose that Caesar had donned the red paint of the triumphing general. He wanted his face to be as close to a mask as possible, a living representation of the statues of the gods that graced the temples of the Capitoline hill back in Rome. Still staring down at the official, Caesar could clearly see the captive's shaking body, despite the distance between them, and he resumed speaking.
"I have decided that I will reside here, until such time that I deem the Wa have returned to the way and level of worship that meets with our favor. I am the sole authority over the Wa, and any disobedience, of any kind, will be met with the harshest of punishment. These men you see before you are my duly appointed representatives. Their word is law. Is that understood?"
Knowing that he had become the representative of his people, this time the official didn't hesitate.
"Yes, lord." Swallowing hard, he added, "but..." That was all he could get out, because the being interrupted.
"But how can they enforce the law if they do not speak your tongue? That is what you were about to say."
Any lingering doubt the official had about the divinity of this being was blown away as quickly as a puff of smoke before a strong wind. How else could he have known this was what the official was going to ask?
"I will handle that. It is not your concern," Caesar continued, amused as always at the look of astonishment on a man's face when he, Caesar, simply drew an obvious conclusion.
In reality, at that moment Caesar didn't have any idea how he would accomplish endowing his men with a working knowledge of this language. However, he had more pressing concerns just now.
"Are there other forces of your army approaching?"
For an instant, the official hesitated, touched with the brief thought of lying to the being. Just as quickly as the idea came, he brutally shoved it away, his heart suddenly hammering as if he had just gone to a full sprint, sure that the being would divine his true thoughts.
"Yes, lord."
"How many?"
The official explained about the presence of the two ar
mies, and that the royal guard commander was even then probably approaching with the rest of the force, thrown together to defend the capital. The army formed by the lords of the north, he told Caesar, was more than two days' march away.
"Select a man you can trust. I will have some of my men escort him to meet this force outside the city, before they enter. He needs to be of sufficient rank to convince the commander that he is to surrender his men and order them to immediately lay down their weapons. Is this understood?"
The official assured him that it was. Only then did he raise himself from his bowing posture to search the ranks of the palace staff. Things had happened so quickly that they weren't arranged in their normal order, but after a moment he spotted the man, also a eunuch, who was immediately below him in the hierarchy. While the official was charged with responsibility for the entire staff, his deputy ran the group of men who serviced the emperor's needs in the palace, along with carrying out the religious duties. Calling to the deputy, he began to explain what the being required of him, but the deputy quickly assured him that he had heard every word that had been spoken by the being and had assumed it would be he that would be given this task. Meanwhile, Caesar had turned and had a quiet word with his German bodyguards, and although their expressions betrayed their misgivings, like the official and deputy, they obeyed him, a half-dozen leaving their formation to wait as the deputy scurried over. His head still bowed, the deputy ran as fast as his robes allowed, but Caesar took the time to repeat his instructions to the man. Afraid to look the being in the eye, the deputy stammered that he understood what was required of him. Then, without warning, a German leaned over and, grabbing a handful of robe, unceremoniously hauled the deputy up off the ground, dropping him over the saddle in front of him. Despite the solemnity of the occasion, more than one of the others let out a snicker. Understanding how delicate the balance was of what he was trying to accomplish, Caesar snapped an order to shut their mouths, which they did. The Germans and the deputy rode away in the direction of the road leading up to the pass, down which the royal guard commander and his men were traveling at that instant. The official watched the hairy ones trotting off and wondered if they would be in time before the commander reached the vicinity of the palace, and, indeed, if his deputy would be successful in stopping him. He knew the commander as well as anyone among the staff, and it wasn't hard for him to imagine that the commander would refuse to believe the deputy and insist on coming to see for himself—with his men—prompting a shiver from the official at the thought of the terrible price they might all pay for the commander's refusal.
"Where is the man you called your emperor?"
Turning his attention back to the being, again the official's initial inclination was to prevaricate in some way, but once more, he dismissed the idea.
"He was sent away a short time ago, lord. He is heading north."
"Is he mounted?"
The official was struck by a glimmer of sudden doubt; if this being was the god he said he was, wouldn't he already know how and where one of his peers was going? After all, it was accepted as fact among the Wa that the emperor was a god himself, though housed in mortal flesh, it was true. Seeing the official's hesitation, Caesar again made an assumption, and of all the leaps of intuition he had made, he knew this was the biggest of his life. For if he guessed wrong, he could easily envision that his carefully thought out plan would fail, and he and his men would be forced to wrest this island away from the natives by the sword. And while he would admit this only to himself, Caesar wasn't sure that the men of his army were up to it. He understood better than Pullus thought how close to the end of their tethers the men of his army were, and this whole plan of his was a direct result of that knowledge.
"Now you are wondering why a god wouldn't know another of his kind, and know where he was located at any given moment," Caesar phrased this not as a question but a statement of fact, prompting another gasp from the official.
"Y-y-yes lord. That is, indeed, the thought in my head."
"The answer is that this man you call emperor is no god. He is a mortal man, just like you. He is not divine. That," Caesar hadn't planned on saying this, but decided to continue, "is one reason why I have come. To set the Wa on the right path, worshiping the true gods. Of which I am one," he finished, carefully enunciating each word in the Wa native tongue to leave no doubt.
The official was stunned by this revelation. Of course! This was why this being, this...god had come down from the heavens with his army of pale creatures. Somewhere, somehow the Wa had lost their way and had lost their connection to the divine. Thinking on it for a moment, the official recognized that they had, in fact, become complacent, taking for granted the blessings of the gods, sure that the man they called emperor was their direct connection to them. But he wasn't, because he was a mortal. As logical a conclusion as it seemed, given the new information, the official still hesitated in fully embracing this new reality.
"You will appoint another man, who will be escorted by more of my men, to follow the emp..." Caesar caught himself, "...the mortal you have wrongly deemed to be your emperor, and you will bring him back here. Then I will demonstrate to you the proof of what I am saying. Do you understand?"
"Yes, lord."
Truly, what else was there to say? A new god had come from the heavens and had assumed the mantle of leadership over the people of Wa. Only the god knew what he had planned for the official and all the other inhabitants of the island. Then, the official was struck by another thought.
"Lord?"
"Yes?"
"How do we, I mean, how do your people address you? In whose name should they pray and make sacrifices to?"
For the first time, a very faint glimmer of emotion cracked the mask of the god, as one corner of his mouth twitched upward.
"They will call me," the god answered, "Caesar."
"How do you suppose he pulled it off?"
Scribonius had just stuffed in a mouthful of rice when Pullus asked this question, causing him to stop with his spoon still hovering in the air as he considered the answer.
Frowning, he finally gave a shrug and replied, "I don't know for sure, but I can guess."
The pair of them were seated on stools in one of the small, neat houses that ringed the larger palace. It was nightfall of the day that Caesar had singlehandedly extinguished the last embers of resistance on the island. Or so they hoped.
"And?" Pullus demanded, not willing to wait for his friend to finish chewing.
Which Scribonius was sure to do before he answered, knowing it would infuriate Pullus.
"Remember that town we took?" he finally asked, after swallowing the rice. "The one where all the people were lined up waiting for us?"
Pullus remembered very well; it had been a singularly unsettling experience and he looked back at that moment as being the first time he had gotten an indication of just how different the people of this island were from every other country he had marched through.
"Yes. What of it?"
"You remember when we caught the Legionary with that girl? That very beautiful girl?"
Pullus nodded slowly, the memory coming back to him, along with the dawning of where Scribonius was headed.
"That's right," he exclaimed. "Caesar took her. I've only caught a few glimpses of her since then. I'd almost forgotten about her."
"Obviously Caesar didn't," Scribonius commented dryly. "And I'm willing to bet that he didn't use her to just scratch an itch."
Pullus considered this, but could only shake his head in bemusement.
"They must have spent full watches through the night to make him speak that tongue as well as he obviously does."
"Well, he never did sleep a lot," was Scribonius' reply. "And you know how good he is with languages."
"For all his faults, he is a genius," Pullus agreed.
He leaned back carefully, trying not to disturb the fresh bandage a medicus had applied. These houses were generally well built,
but they were very strange, not just to Pullus, but to all the men. Because of his condition, he had been required to allow Diocles to draft some of the Legionaries to help arrange what very little in the way of furniture there was, along with unloading the contents carried by Pullus' mule. Despite all that Diocles had done, it was still a foreign setting to Pullus, but fortunately for both of them he was as close to indifferent to his surroundings as it was possible to be. For the next several moments the two friends ate in silence, each absorbed in his own thoughts. As eventful as the entire campaign had been, this day had been full of events and actions neither man had ever seen before or ever thought he would see, for that matter. After dispatching the barbarians of the palace staff to attend to their respective tasks, Caesar had announced to his army all that had transpired. His men were no less astonished than the palace official had been, even if it was for different reasons. In the immediate aftermath of Caesar's performance, for that was the only way Pullus could think to describe what had taken place, the general had trotted Toes over to Pullus' litter, also summoning the other Centurions that were part of this spectacle. In very brief but descriptive terms, Caesar explained the situation, that for a period of time he was either unwilling or unable to specify as far as its length was concerned, he would require every man in the army to render him the strictest military courtesy. It was important, he went on, to reinforce the idea of Caesar's divinity, so he would expect the men to show a deference that supported his status.