Nodding, I slipped my gun underneath my shirt, where it would remain hidden.
We followed the curve of the street, surrounded by people on all sides. The main road split into smaller streets of stone, and the smaller streets split into alleyways. People came in and out of doors, groups hung out on corners, watching passersby. And always, the guards marched, stopping people on occasion to ask questions. Most people ignored the guards, giving them a wide berth. I saw two more men wearing jaguar headdresses, questioning a very nervous merchant.
“What are they?” I asked Julian.
“They are the jaguar warriors — the most elite force of the Emperor. They are brutal fighters with both gun and axe. They also serve as his police. During war, they lead the centuries.”
“Centuries?”
Julian didn’t answer for a moment as one of the warriors pushed the poor merchant. The man looked like he was near tears, but in the end, he reached into his satchel, producing a handful of small, silvery items. It was then that I realized they were batteries.
“In the Imperial Army, there are divisions,” Julian said. “Largest is the legion, twenty thousand men. Then comes the cohorts — a thousand men each. The cohorts are split into ten groups of one hundred. These groups of one hundred are called centuries. The jaguar warriors, also known as the centurions, lead the centuries. They are known for the bravery, leadership, and martial prowess.” Julian paused, watching the jaguar warriors turn away from the crestfallen merchant they had just shaken up. “They are also corrupt. You never want to have to fight one.”
I had trouble imagining twenty thousand men in one place — much less an entire army.
“How many legions are in the Empire?” I asked.
Julian shrugged. “Four, I think.”
Eighty thousand men. That could easily overwhelm the entire Wasteland, even if they didn’t have many guns. If we could manage to gather all the people of the Wasteland, and that was a big if, we wouldn’t even have a fourth of Augustus’s army. It was all the more reason why he had to be convinced to join us.
We came to an intersection. Four roads entered a square plaza. In the center of the plaza, a step pyramid rose. There were six tiers total, and people could be seen walking up and down the steep steps.
“What the heck is that?” I asked.
“The Temple of Quetzalcoatl. An ancient god that has been appropriated into the Imperial pantheon. The Temple was here long before Nova Roma was. The city just sort of grew up around it.”
My attention was distracted from the Temple when I heard the roar of engines coming from our left. A moment later, two all-terrain trucks surged into the plaza, going right for us.
We rushed to the side of the street before we could be run over. Soldiers bearing guns and spears filled the trucks to the brim. Seeing the clash of technology with what could otherwise be an ancient city was shocking. The truck sped behind us, for the city gates.
“There seems to be something big going on,” I said.
“Augustus is mustering his legions,” Julian said. “They train every morning, and soon, they will depart for the north.”
“The war is starting, then,” Makara said.
“Yes,” Julian said. “They are expected to leave at any time.”
“It is a long way to the Wasteland,” Samuel said.
“Yes. It will take months for them to go that far. They don’t have enough vehicles to carry all their soldiers. But Augustus means to conquer it.”
Julian led us down a side street, where traffic wasn’t as thick. We ducked through several alleyways, avoiding people where we could. Finally, the alley opened up into a large, paved area.
“Central Square,” Julian said.
I knew from the moment I stepped in it that Central Square was the center of Nova Roma. On one side of the square were a series of tiled buildings, supported by pillars. Before the buildings stood a fountain and a large statue of a man on horseback. People milled across the square, mostly in fine robes. A steady stream of people walked toward the buildings. In that nexus of buildings, shirtless workers constructed a massive edifice at the top of a hill. Pillars lined the building’s front.
“The new Senate House,” Julian said. “The Empire has grown, and there are more representatives now. The old one was getting overcrowded. Those buildings are all part of the Grand Forum — which is the main shopping district of Nova Roma.”
“You know much about the Empire,” Samuel said.
Julian shrugged. “I have lived in the Empire for much of my life. My old master had many dealings with important men in Nova Roma, and he would take me with him often.”
“Is this Central Square?”
Julian nodded. “Yes. The slave auctions are held in that corner, over there.”
He pointed to our right, where a street met the far right-hand corner of the Grand Forum. Already, chairs were being set up, and a large stage mounted.
I turned my attention to the very center of Central Square, where a large square tower, about four stories tall, rose. On each of the two sides facing us were large television screens, and I could only assume there were two more on the sides facing away from us. On each of the screens was shown the sport of the Empire — the Gladiatorial Games. A bare-chested man appeared on the screen, beating his chest as his other arm held a gladius. Rocketing onto the screen was another man, wielding spear and shield. The shield slammed into the first man’s chest, sending him sprawling backward into the dirt. People gathered below the screen cheered on, watching the fight unfold with revelry.
I was very surprised to see this place had the capability to televise anything.
Julian answered my unasked question for me. “There are cameras in the Coleseo, and cables run underground from there to here. Augustus wants everyone, especially the poor, to watch the Games.”
“Why especially the poor?”
Julian gave a grim smile. “Because they are the most likely to rebel against him. Augustus is good at keeping them fed. Next on his list is to keep them entertained.”
In the distance to my right, I heard the roar of a crowd. I turned to see it: the Coleseo, its three tiers of arches forming a perfect circle on one side of the Forum.
“Are the fights happening live?” I asked.
“Yes,” Julian said. “There are fights all day most Saturdays, and sometimes during the week if there is a festival. Anyone who can’t afford tickets can watch out here.”
Even if it was grotesque, it was amazing what Augustus had been able to do with his Empire. If we could have something as powerful as the Empire on our side, fighting the xenovirus, then that would be a major win. But we had to talk to Augustus first. Before that, we had to rescue Anna.
“What now?” Samuel asked.
“We wait for the auctions to begin,” Julian said.
We waited in Central Square for about an hour, watching the sun rise and burn away what was left of the misty air. With the loss of cloud came the heat. The televisions blared on, and the crowds grew, both to watch the fights and shop at the many stalls that were being set up. More crowds funneled in and out of the Forum buildings on the south side of the square.
I pointed to a walled enclosure that contained a massive, pillared building.
“What’s that place?”
“The Imperial Palace of Augustus Imperator,” Julian said. “Augustus lived here, first. Like the Temple of Quetzalcoatl, it is said that the city grew up around him.”
“Amazing that it took only thirty years,” Samuel said.
“Augustus is very powerful,” Julian said. “Augustus used that power to put everyone to work, including architects and engineers.”