“I couldn’t join the Vestal Virgins, actually. They said you’d already filled their only opening. Besides, they don’t let women into the Officer’s Academia. Or traitors,” he said haughtily.
Alexandros chuckled, taking the anger he felt and funneling it into his next barb.
“Then I suppose you won’t be joining me in Officer’s Academia. Perhaps they realized that brains beat bloodline any day.” Several people around him laughed, and Kretarus’s eyebrows furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak.
“Rufius! Rufius Alexandros!” came a familiar cry. Turning his back on the other boy, Alexandros found himself face to face with his parents.
“Mother! Father! It’s good to see you!”
They embraced and Alexandros took in the smell of his mom’s lavender perfume, something he had not inhaled since their last visit at the end of his second year. The academia purposefully kept the boys and their families separated so as to teach their students the values of self-reliance and teamwork with their fellow cadets.
“How are you? We have so many questions! And look, you’ve grown so much! Oh, you’ve got to tell me everything!” His mother was overjoyed to see him, and tears of happiness ran down her face.
“Son, I saw your name on the officer’s list…” His father’s voice trailed off. “You’ve made me so proud. You have made your family proud.”
Full of emotion, Alexandros was hard pressed to hold back tears himself.
“I’ve missed you all so much.”
“Rufius! Rufius! I made it! I’m in the Officer’s Academia!” Gordanus shouldered his way through the crowd of reuniting parents and cadets to Alexandros.
“I did it!”
“I knew you would, Gordanus.” He felt his earlier annoyance at the dark-haired admiral’s son vanish. He knew that Gordanus had his own issues to deal with, and that sometimes money and power simply gave one more problems than solutions.
Sometimes can be a very challenging word.
Alexandros spent some time introducing his family to Gordanus. They were very openhearted and welcoming to his friend, and upon learning that his father had been unable to attend the ceremony, insisted that Gordanus come to their house for a celebratory graduation party that night. The two boys readily agreed.
Later that evening, after having put down the delicious fare provided by the well-trained kitchen staff of the Alexandros villa just outside the walls of Rome, the family and guests reclined on their traditional divans in the dining room. Beautiful frescos decorated the walls, showing scenes of hunting and exploration, a skill that the more recent generations of the Alexandros family were renowned for in certain circles.
Gordanus was particularly interested in hearing the tale of the family’s traitorous ancestor, Gaius Cassius Longinus. Although normally considered a sore subject, Krytos Liani Cassi Alexandro decided that his young guest was simply curious and meant no harm in asking. Alexandros’s father started the story at the very beginning, enthralling the twelve year olds by weaving a tale of plots, betrayal, and execution.
“In the year 45 BC, Julius Caesar was not yet crowned emperor, and he relied on the Senate of the republic for his titles and power. His victories over the Gauls and other barbarian tribes had made him immensely popular with the people, but not with the patricians in the Senate. The Senate named him dictator perpetuo, or dictator in perpetuity.”
Gordanus interrupted, “But what does that mean?”
“It’s as though he was an emperor until he died, but his children would not have become emperor like their father. And he couldn’t do much of anything without the Senate agreeing to it.”
“Isn’t that how it’s like now?”
The elder Alexandros chuckled slightly. “Actually, now it is more the other way around. The emperor has much more power than the Senate, but he still needs to cooperate with the Senate in order to keep the plebeians, patricians, and merchants appeased.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, indeed. So, while Caesar was a great man for founding the Roman Empire, he was not a very nice person. He was openly rude to some Senators, and even fired different officials for trying to do their jobs. He wanted more and more power, and the senators did not want to give it up. So a group of them decided to do something. Gaius Cassius Longinus, our ancestor, was the lead conspirator of this group that called themselves the Liberatores. He asked Marcus Junius Brutus to assist him, but Brutus declined, on the grounds that the republic would outlive Caesar, not the other way around.”
“So, then Brutus turned him in?” Rufius Alexandros chimed in.
“No, but he warned Longinus to stop the plot or he would go public. Longinus tried to have Brutus assassinated! He paid a slave to poison the honorable senator. But instead, Brutus’s wife drank from the cup that was meant for Brutus and died. Armed with this evidence, Brutus went to Marc Antony, the co-consul of Rome along with Caesar. They were able to warn Caesar, and when the senators attacked, Caesar’s legionnaires were there to protect him.”
“Then what happened?”
“The rest of the senators, those who supported Caesar in the first place, voted him many of their own powers, such as declaring war and building legions, as well as many other powers. That was the end of the republic and the start of the empire. One can only imagine what would have happened if Caesar had been assassinated!”
There was silence for a few moments as guests, hosts, and servants alike contemplated that thought.
“Father, what would have happened?”
“Who knows? Probably civil war, maybe one strong enough for our enemies to take advantage of us. Rome was not as big then as it is now,” he said.
The boys continued to pepper the elder Alexandros with question after question, and from time to time the other dinner guests, coworkers, and friends of the family would interrupt to answer.
Eventually, the evening ran down, and Antonia Alexandros looked at the large clock against the far wall of the central atrium.
“Oh my, it’s getting quite late, and I’m sure we’ve had enough excitement for one day. After all, you boys just ran nearly four imperial miles and graduated from the academia! It is time for bed, both of you,” she ordered, as only a mother can. Grudgingly, the boys surrendered to the inevitable and went to bed.
The next morning came early, with servants awaking the two young men at the crack of dawn. Their bags and lunches had been prepared, for they had tickets to travel the train system southwards to the Officer’s Academia. The train followed the incredibly ancient Via Appia before turning south-southwest and ending in Rhegium, headquarters of the Mare Mediterrane Airfleet and Officer’s Academia.
Gordanus’s personal servant, a man named Hektor, accompanied them and acted as guardian until they reached the city. The ex-legionnaire carried their bags in one arm while guiding them through the crowded Roma Central Train Terminal.
“We better hurry up, young gentlemen, or else we’ll be late,” he called back as the boys wove their way through the crowd behind him. Although he had been there before, Alexandros was in awe at the magnitude of the structure. Rising over eight stories high, supported by massive columns and featuring decorative windows at either end, the structure was an elegant fusion between the ancient and the modern, with steel support beams carefully intertwining the ancient marble-faced columns.
As their guardian steered them to the correct platform, Alexandros and Gordanus chatted about all the sights and sounds. This was Gordanus’s first trip on a train, having arrived in Rome using the fledgling passenger airship service that ran among several of the largest imperial cities. As the steam engine chugged into the station, billowing wisps of smoke briefly entombed them. The world went white and sounds were muffled.
I wonder if this is what a cloud is like.