Antony lessened carefully as Gaius continued.
“The men who fight for Hannibal, his barbarians, and…” Gaius did not know how to form the right words for what he’d seen at the estate further north, now a full week past. “The things they’ve done to our people — women, children, even the fucking slaves; you couldn’t believe if I told you.”
“The Senate has heard the reports,” Antony added.
“Not like this,” Gaius’ words fell silent as, he pulled out from his purse that hung from his waist the ring he pulled from the charred corpse of Decima Felix Titus, where he held the small object tightly in his hand.
After a long pause, Gaius’ thoughts returned from the lingering horrors he had seen. He turned his attention back towards Antony and spoke with an unfamiliar firm tone.
“The Senate may be filled with cowards, and you may even want to surrender,” Gaius directed his angry words at Antony, speaking to him as if he represented the whole Senate. “But I've lost too many good friends to allow what I’ve seen done to our people to go unpunished.” Gaius stood abruptly, clinching his fists shut once he tossed the gold ring of Titus to Antony, who caught it, unknowing why Gaius had given it to him.
“You need to understand; Hannibal doesn’t want to defeat Rome or topple the Republic, but he desires to destroy us, all of us, so that our names may never be spoken again, for all history. I fear that even Carthage won’t be able to pull him back.”
“You cannot make this war personal, Gaius,” Antony said as he struggled to understand what his friend had gone through.
“Tell that to those people beyond our city gates, or the widows and orphans of our fallen brothers.”
Gaius was about to leave when he stopped, as he saw Julia standing in the doorway, blocking his exit.
She had just walked in, and dropped the package she had been carrying, as apples rolled across the dirty floor. Her eyes quickly began to water as she first uttered, “Gaius,” before she cried out his name once more, and rushed over to him, throwing herself into his waiting arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Gaius, I thought,” Julia swallowed hard as she struggled for words, “I thought you were dead.” She held him tightly, refusing to let him go. The smell of the oils in her black hair rose around him, covering the months of death, battle and exhaustion that shrouded him like a heavy cloak. He hadn’t realized how much he longed for her, to feel her warm and loving embrace again. In light of what had happened over the past few months, his last words to her before he set off for the north, were meaningless.
“I am alive, Julia,” Gaius replied with a soft voice.
Julia stood back, staring up at him with swollen eyes. Carefully, Gaius wiped away her fallen tears, which left behind a streak of filth across her cheek.
“When I heard about Sempronius, and then Flaminius, I feared the worst.” She threw herself back into his arms. Gaius could hear the beating of her heart against his chest, even though his armor.
A part of him felt guilty as she hadn’t been in his thoughts as much as he would have liked over the months. Now she was in his loving embrace again, and he realized she was what he needed to allow the weight of his burden to lift, just for a moment. He wanted to say so much to her, to confess his endless love and affection, and resend everything he had last said, but Gaius held his tongue, as he feared what it might unleash.
Gaius’ attention was as he heard the voice of a man enter the house, soon followed by the footsteps of several individuals as they came across the room that Gaius, Julia and Antony occupied.
When the voice became clear, Julia pulled suddenly away from Gaius’ hold, and quickly wiped her face of tears, but could do nothing about the redness under her lids.
A moment later Gaius recognized Paullus as he entered, with him, trailing close behind were two other men, bodyguards it seemed from their close military haircuts, and burly build.
“Ah, there you are Antony,” Paullus spoke, but held his words when he saw Julia’s sorrowful expression. Concern quickly filled his eyes as he stepped toward her, holding out his hand so that he may caress her face.
“What is the matter, my dear?” Paullus asked, concerned.
Julia managed her best smile, replying with a soft giggle as she answered, “Oh, it is tears of joyful glee, my love, for my old friend Gaius has returned from the dead it would seem.”
Paullus stared at Gaius for a moment, seemly trying to place his face. A moment later he smiled, either recognizing the young officer, or pretending he did.
“That is wonderful. You were with Flaminius I presume, with the rest of your legion?” Paullus asked.
“No sir, I was with Sempronius at Trebia. I was tasked with another assignment after the battle, so I missed the battle at Lake Trasimene, I’m sorry to say,” Gaius replied as respectfully as he could. It was obvious how uncomfortable he and Julia were at the moment, and a part of him could not help but be angry at her sudden shift, from loving embrace to cold distant friendship.
“Then it is a fortunate thing you were not with that fool Flaminius, I must say.”
“It is as bad as they say?” Gaius asked.
Paullus glanced to his men, seemingly telling them with his stare to remain where they stood, before he placed his hand onto Gaius’ shoulder, leading him nearer to the wall where he lowered his voice and spoke.
“It is much worse than they say.” Paullus thought for a moment as he looked up at Gaius with a renewed sense of familiarity. “That night at Varro’ entertaining dinner, I was impressed at your honesty. While he might soon be my father-in-law, the man can be a dreadful bore, made worse by his lapdogs. So, please, Gaius, share with me some more honesty. Tell me, what is your opinion among our people — how do they fare after the most-recent defeat?”
Gaius was taken aback by Paullus’ personal question, one that he didn’t quite feel he was privileged to answer giving his status and position among men like Paullus. However, he would not lie either, so with a heavy sigh; he gave his answer.
“Dreadful, I’m sorry to say. We are broken, and on the verge of defeat. The men have very little heart left, and the people don’t trust that our leaders or army can protect them. And Hannibal, he is no fool. He knows us better than we know ourselves, and I doubt regardless of what force we can manage against him, will do much good if we don’t completely rethink our approach to this war — namely, the thinking of our leaders, as each disaster could have been avoided if it weren’t for narrow-sighted, ambitious men.”
Gaius felt nervous by the long silence shared between Paullus and him, when he finished his brief statement. If the man so wished, Paullus could have him sent to the farthest corners of the Republic on a whim, or perhaps worse. He did not dare to understand what game the senior was playing, political or otherwise. So, he waited for Paullus’ reaction.
Paullus turned and glanced momentarily at Julia, who stood by with the best smile she could manage, even though Gaius could see she was also nervous.
“You are right, my dove. He is quite the officer. It is shameful that Rome does not have more like him.” Paullus smiled as if a wonderful thought crept through his mind, as he turned back and continued speaking with Gaius.
“Those men, outside, they are yours, correct?” Paullus asked.
“They are mine — the Second Century of the First Cohort, Sixth Legion. I’m afraid that at the moment they are what remain of the Wolves, I’m sad to assume,” Gaius replied, wondering where the question was leading.
“Very well, Centurion. I would very much appreciate if you camp your men on the Fields of Mars. I would like them to join the city guards and what ruminant of the legions we have left that have already trickled back to Rome over the past couple days. I do believe that some of the Sixth is with them, perhaps you legate is among them.”