CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gaius stood nervously in the garden as he stared down at what had been a rose bed, which was now bare, as frost covered the weathered vines that wouldn’t bloom again for months. It was bitter cold as a harsh winter storm had rolled across the countryside in the days following Scipio’s defeat. Since then, a new army was assembled. It would be commanded by another seasoned veteran of the previous war with Carthage, Co-Consul Sempronius, who was determined to win himself a great victory; elections were coming in a few weeks, so he hastily readied twenty-five thousand men of arms to respond to the incursion.
Nevertheless, Gaius’ mind was elsewhere since his talk with Valerius. He had to make a choice, as he ran through his head all the possible things, he could say to Julia to ease what needed to be said.
Gaius reached down and touched the last blooming rose. The petals were a dark shade of red, almost black, as the final vestiges of life were seeping out from the flower. Two petals fell effortlessly from his gentle touch, drifting slowly to the ground before they were eventually captured by a brisk wind, which carried away more withered flowers into the gloomy sky.
“Gaius?” Julia called.
He turned slowly to meet her.
As usual, she took his breath away. In the mid afternoon sun, even with the cold and grey skies, she was perfectly captured by the sun’s warming gaze.
She wore a long fur coat, which she had just put on before stepping outside from the warmth of her home. Underneath, Gaius could see a blue gown with a low neckline, showing the expensive jewels that adorned her neck, before she pulled the high collar up and tightened it.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as she rushed over to him, taking both of his hands in hers as she spoke more softly, “I wasn’t’ expecting to see you until tomorrow morning.”
“I had to come today and tell you — “Gaius fumbled for the words for just a moment, captivated by her large dark eyes, which stared up at him eagerly.
“What is it?” Her voice shook as she seemed to dread the reason for his sudden visit.
Gaius glanced behind Julia, seeing only a few slaves as they walked back and forth inside, going about their work.
Julia looked back as well, but quickly turned her gaze to Gaius and asked again, “What is it, my love? Speak to me.”
“This…” Gaius struggled as he pulled away from her.
“This, what?” she questioned with worried expression.
“Us, Julia, we can’t keep doing this! As much as it pains me, I can’t see you anymore this way.” Gaius spoke quietly, still afraid that someone might be near enough to overhear. “We cannot continue to live in this fantasy, this fiction we’ve created for ourselves.”
Tears formed in Julia’s eyes as she stepped closer to him, but he held out his arms, keeping her at a distance as if her touch would force him to change his mind and resend his hurtful words.
“I love you, Gaius, and you love me,” she pleaded.
“It is not a question of love, Julia. I love you more than you could possibly know. I would do anything for you; face any punishment or torment, whatever it took to keep you safe. I promised I would protect you, and I will never resent that oath. However, we can’t be anything more than friends. The world simply doesn’t work the way we want it to.”
“Gaius — “Julia uttered painfully as she tuned from him, unable to control her tears. She was ashamed to let him see her this way, so she covered her face with her hands and tried to finish what she wanted to say.
“I do not love Paullus. I do not care why my father has arranged my marriage with him. I will refuse it and confess my love for you. He will understand, they both will,” she cried out, not carrying who overheard her, but even her own words did not sound certain as Gaius stepped closer, forcing her to turn and face him.
“Neither of us can afford to be so naive, Julia. We have too much to lose.”
“I do not care about all of this,” she cried as she flung her hands out.
Gaius took Julia’s hands and held them in his as he spoke quietly.
“It is not your wealth or my position that we stand to lose,” he told her.
Julia’s tear-filled eyes opened wide with the sudden realization of what he implied.
“My father would never…”
Gaius shook his head.
“Perhaps, or possibly not, but no matter, we have betrayed his trust. Even if he took no stand against us, Paullus would, and if it wasn’t our lives that he demanded for the embarrassment, he could hold your father accountable for betraying his word in promising his daughter to him. He could ruin your whole family.”
Julia tried, wanted to rebuke him. She desired to insist that Paullus was not that kind of man, but Gaius didn’t have to know him intimately to understand that Paullus cared for her deeply.
Gaius wondered if the arrangement in taking Julia’s hand in marriage wasn’t just a play to join two powerful families. Perhaps the man actually loved Julia as much as he. A man like that could be unpredictable, most of all a man who had the means to reshape Rome, no less the lives of two individuals.
“I do not like this, Julia. I do not wish this. I want you. I want you by my side, for as long as I live. I wish we were different people, not obligated by our duties, to even be slaves, perhaps, free to love one another without reserve. However, it isn’t so. Our world and our place in it, is not that simple.”
Gaius reached for Julia, taken hold of her as she lowered her head, resting it against his chest.
“I will love you forever, for as long as I draw breath. My heart will always beat for you and you alone. Nevertheless, I cannot give you anything more.” Those were the last words Gaius spoke to Julia, as she pulled away from him.
He watched her as she stepped through the threshold and back into her house. She turned only once; tears filling her eyes as she looked out to him. He wanted to say more, but there was nothing else to be said. Nothing could ease the suffering that they were both going through, so he left her, wondering if he would ever see her again…if she would forgive him?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Snow drifted in thick clumps between the Roman lines, which advanced along the banks of the nearly frozen Trebia River. Even with the bitter cold and long marches, Gaius’ thoughts continued to drift back to Julia, and the last day he saw her, now six weeks past. He doubted the memories of that day would ever leave his troubled mind — how he wished he could have had a second chance to speak different words to Julia, to make her understand that he wasn’t abandoning her, or that he didn’t love her with all his heart, but what had been said was done, and nothing could remove the stain.
Gaius was now occupied by the duties he had been trained to carry out. However, unlike the rest of his cohort, who were excited by be given the chance to avenge their falling brothers, he felt like a corpse, still breathing, but dead inside. The joy and anticipation of the coming battle did not echo in his heart. However, for weeks now, Hannibal continued to elude his pursuers despite attempts to draw him out into a pitched battle. The legions under the command of Consul Sempronius were close to him, nipping at Hannibal’s heels, but with their numbers, superior to the Carthaginians, the legions move slower, allowing the barbarian rogue to stay one step ahead of Sempronius.
Sempronius’ legions marched from one burnt-out settlement to another, engaging stray units, mostly Hannibal’s Gallic allies who were more interested in plunder than warfare. However, Hannibal’s seasoned troops — his Carthaginian, Spanish and Numidian allies remained hidden, utilizing the trees and worsening weather as cover. This frustrated the legions, which were growing tired and complacent, most of all the impulsive Sempronius; and now the bitter cold nights were beginning to sap the legions' fighting spirit.