“I am Centurion Lucius Gaius of the Sixth Legion,” Gaius called out with a firm and commanding voice, one that showed nothing of his apprehension. “And I am looking for the master of this house, or his children.”
The leader of the gang sneered as he stood firmly between Gaius and the entrance into the house. Smoothly, not quickly, he drew his sword, but held it down in a relaxed position. Gaius in return did not order his men to draw their weapons, even though many of his boys were edgy about drawing their iron.
“You can look, Centurion Lucius Gaius, but you cannot see,” the gang leader replied with a strong hint of distaste in his voice.
It was then that Gaius wondered if these men weren’t here to rob Varro’ home, but hired to protect it. If so, a hundred Roman soldiers marching toward the front gate could be seen as an act to arrest Varro, who would be paying these men to keep him safe. So, Gaius eased himself, controlling his next words so not to sound too threatening, but still remained firmed in his determination to get through those gates.
“I am not here to harm the senator or his family. I seek an audience with them, to ensure that they are safe. Now, kindly move aside before bloodshed is required,” the threat was purposeful, which got the reaction he was hoping from a number of the opponents as they seemed to shiver at the prospect of fighting well trained soldiers.
The gang leader smiled as he leveled his sword, aiming its point at Gaius. This action caused nearly all of his men, those most eager for a fight, and not fearful of Roman soldiers, to draw their weapons.
There was nothing Gaius could do to stop his men from responding, as a hundred swords were pulled, save for his own. He did not want blood to be shed, but he doubted words were going to work against this man either.
“The senator has all the protection he needs. Now, be gone with you, before I carve my name in your pretty young face.”
The threat was implied, and Gaius knew this man would not allow him to say another word before a sword came at his head. There was only one course for him to take right now — he needed to see Antony and Julia — he promised to keep her safe, and a gang of thugs weren’t going to stop him from keeping that oath.
A voice called out, distracting everyone’s attention away from the conflict.
“Enough! Stop this madness, at once! Move aside you bloody fool, now I say!”
Gaius realized it was Antony’s voice before he saw his friend push his way between the hired goons.
“By the grace of Jupiter almighty, Gaius, you’re alive!” Antony cried out as he rushed over and embraced his old friend, throwing his arms around him without holding back his joyful emotions.
“What is happening here, Antony?” Gaius demanded as he nodded his question toward the big lug that stood before him.
Antony glanced back and leered at the gang, unable to hold back his anger.
“Lower your damn weapons, I command you! Who do you think you are raising swords against a Roman officer?!"
“We are only doing the job your father paid us to do,” the gang leader replied, but he did as he was told as he withdrew his weapon, but clearly unpleased about Antony’s tone of voice.
“Ignore them, Gaius, they are goons hired by my father to safeguard our home and us from the rioters — mindless dogs, nothing more. Come, bring your men inside.” Antony waved his hand violently at the gang leader as if he was shooing a fly from his path, before he led Gaius and his century into the courtyard of his father’s home.
“Bring water, and food for these men, at once!” Antony demanded to a group of slaves who were busy moving furnisher from the house. They dropped what they were doing and ran off, gathering more help as they carried out Antony’s demands without question.
“What is going on here, Antony?” Gaius asked.
Antony sighed deeply as the first group of slaves brought back buckets of water and fresh-baked bread. Maurus took command as he directed the men to corners of the large courtyard, while issuing twenty men to stand watch by the front entrance, clearly none-too-trusting of the gang beyond the walls.
“My father, he is running, like many noblemen have done over the past few days. He is packing our stuff and moving us to our country estate where we can be better protected, or so he would hope.”
“You are no safer out there, not with Hannibal and his horde running about unopposed,” Gaius commented.
“I know, but there seems no place safe, regardless. He acts out of fear, nothing more.”
“It is that bad?” Gaius asked.
“I’m afraid it is worse,” Antony shook his head. “Once word reached the city about Flaminius’ death and the defeat of his army, the people demanded answers from the Senate. However, those old fools had no answers to give. Some ran, fleeing for their own estates, or heading elsewhere out of Italy. The people, well, they just went mad.”
Antony closed his eyes as he recalled what he had seen.
“By the gods, Gaius, our own soldiers were slaughtering people in the streets, in droves. I barely escaped the madness myself.”
“Then, the Senate must call more legions from the frontier to safeguard Rome,” Gaius spoke, more demanding, as if he was in the Senate addressing its members.
“It is not that simply, I’m afraid. While the Senate is taken Hannibal seriously now, the bloody Macedonians have started a rebellion. What capable legions we have in Greece are forced to remain there to safeguard our settlements there, and our grain shipments, or else we all starve, Hannibal or no Hannibal.”
Antony led Gaius into his home. To his amazement, the place, which had been pristine upon his first visit months before, was sorry, as the floors were filthy, caked with layers of muddy footprints. Most of the furnisher was gone, as well as the potted plants, marble statues, the family death masks that dominated the far wall, and even the gold tiling had been removed from the floor.
Antony sat down on one of the few chairs that remained in the house, as a slave brought him a cup of honey wine. Gaius, on the other hand, refused his drink, and chose to remain standing as he tried to wrap his mind around the information he had learned in the past hour.
“Then we must do something. We must reform the legions from the survivors, draft new soldiers from the country, hell, and even empty the dungeons if we must. With winter almost over, we won’t have much time before Hannibal has enough supplies to launch his full offensive on Rome,” Gaius spoke, practically yelling as if he expected it was within Antony’s doing to carry out the suggesting he was making.
“And then what? Who will lead them into battle? We don’t’ have an affective government right now. Brand new consuls must be voted into office. And then what should we do, lead the fresh legions to their slaughter? I’m afraid it isn’t as simple as you may wish it to be so, my friend.” Antony rubbed his index finger across his brow, before he took several long swings of his wine.
“You mean well, my friend. I know. However, you haven’t been in Rome to know the whole picture,” Antony added.
“No, I’ve been out there, bleeding for Rome,” Gaius shot back.
Antony couldn't resist smiling.
“Oh, how I wish we had ten thousand men just like you, Gaius. We could conquer the world if we tried.”
“I’m only interested in saving the Republic,” Gaius replied.
“As am I. However, until someone steps up for the task, I’m afraid there is little that can be done right now but wait and let the river take us where it may.”
Gaius finally sat down, and then took a long, deep breath before letting it out. As he ran his palm through is growing hair, it was only when he pulled it back that he noticed the grit and filth from his scalp.
“I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe, and I’m not speaking of the battles or the men I’ve killed." Gaius’ words trailed when he said, killed, as if he had only just then understood that he had taken lives — men who might be fathers, doing what they believed was right.