“I would hope so, sir,” Gaius beamed. He wasn’t aware that survivors of the Sixth were back in the city.
“Regardless, I would like you take command of what men we have left if Valerius has indeed joined his ancestors. I will have them folded into the Sixth under your watch as Camp Prefect,” Paullus added with a slight grin.
“Prefect, sir! I’m honored, but wouldn't that have to be approved by the consuls, which from my understanding, we are short two?” Gaius asked, truly shocked by Paullus’ statement. He hadn’t dreamed he could attain such rank, at least without another ten years of service, and even then, to be a prefect of Rome.
“Then, it is a good thing the Senate has used its emergency powers to appoint me as Consul of Rome,” Paullus said, which surprised everyone in the room. He turned and looked over at Antony, who had remained silent, sitting down on the couch, enjoying his cup of wine. “And your father has been given the seat of Co-Consul, which is why I’ve come bearing such wondrous news. Where is he? I do hope he hasn’t fled the city quite yet,” the sarcasm was thick in Paullus’ tone, but Antony did not seem offended as he stood from his seat and answered.
“No, he is still here. He is in his study at the moment,” Antony replied.
“Well, please be a lad and fetch him for me.”
Gaius couldn’t help but notice the tone in Paullus’ voice when he addressed Antony, as if he was just a child, even though he was only a year younger than Gaius.
Antony did as he asked, first nodding his respect to Gaius, glad to see his friend well and safe, before he turned and went to retrieve Varro.
Paullus turned back toward Gaius. “And as for you, I’ll grant you the temporary title of Prefect, until the proper documents can be drafted and approved, with all rights, status and privileges accustom. Do you approve, Prefect Gaius?”
“It is, sir, an honor,” Gaius replied, failing to find the right words. “There is one concern, that isn’t regarding my men, but the civilians. I’ve invested quite a lot of time and energy in ensuring their safety. However, when we arrived before the gates of Rome, I found them locked, forbidding our people entrance and protection.”
Paullus sighed heavily, lowering his head just a bit as he replied.
“Yes, an unfortunate thing to happen, one which I did not approve of. You can rest easy, Gaius that the first order I will issue is for the gates to be opened, and martial law lifted. We must try to put this shameful past behind us, and move forward.”
Paullus rested his hand on Gaius’ shoulder, speaking to him with bolster, as if he was addressing the people.
“I will raise new legions that will not falter under wrongful leadership as our previous commands had demonstrated. You and I, Gaius, we will march north once more to avenge the terrible costs that our brothers have already paid. When we do, Hannibal will tremble with fear at such a sight. We shall, with his demise, rid Rome of his disease, and usher in a new dawn for the Republic.”
Gaius could not say anything, but only manage a false smile. He had heard similar statements before, and while he doubted that Paullus was as naive and ignorant as the previous two consuls, Gaius knew that Paullus had not faced Hannibal, had not seen what the man was capable of. Yes, Rome would recover, but too, Hannibal would be waiting for whatever the Senate sent against him.
Paullus turned and faced Julia, now focusing his attention on her as he stepped before her, taking both hands in his and speaking with a loving voice.
“When this messy business is over, my lady, we shall be wed. Together we will see our child grow in a new era, one safe from men like Hannibal and his ilk.”
Julia managed her best smile and replied, “I look forward to such a wondrous time…my love.” Her eyes couldn’t help but drift toward Gaius. Paullus seemed to notice as an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Thankfully, a moment later Varro entered, drawing Paullus’ attention away, as he moved to tell his soon to be father-in-law the news.
“Gaius…” Julia struggled to say in a low whisper, but there was nothing she could do as he abruptly turned.
“I have to see my men to camp,” he said, unable to look her in the face.
“Gaius, please,” she pleaded silently, grabbing hold on his arm, forcing him to stop. However, he refused to look back at her.
“I…” Her mouth could not form words even though her heart was screaming out.
Gaius saved her from having to speak.
“I have to go. Goodbye, Julia.” And then he was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The snow had begun to melt as the welcome warmth of spring finally arrived, and with it, renewed hope for the people of the Republic. As the ranks of those men able to take up arms and fight for their freedom swelled outside the walls of Rome, the sense of invulnerability began to take hold of the peoples’ hearts and minds. However, for Gaius, Prefect and acting commander of the steadily growing Sixth Legion, his nights had been restless for weeks as he tossed in bed. H mind too far gone for it to stay grounded, as he pondered many issues that plagued him: his new rank and the responsibility that came with training hundreds of raw recruits, most having never lifted a sword, no less used it. The impending campaign and the fear of again facing Hannibal in the field, but most of all, Julia and what had happened between the two of them when last he saw her.
His fantasy did not cloud reality. Gaius knew there was nothing he could do, and any words shared between Julia, and he only made things worse between them. He could win glory in battle a hundred times over, and still not attain her. However, he was not the problem. It was her.
Julia was a woman, and property of her father. Her heart played no role in how she was used, and Paullus offered more for Varro’s rise than Gaius ever could.
The guilt that he felt went towards Paullus as well. The man was good, and truly did seem to love Julia, despite Gaius’ wanting otherwise. The man had entrusted him, and even bestowed an uncommon confidence in their relationship, one which Gaius found himself appreciating more than he would have cared to believe. So, Gaius sulked — depressed, not sleeping and hardly eating as if the whole world was crashing down around him. He knew he had no right, and thought about Maurus’ word when he shared some of his feelings, “there are plenty of fish in the sea. And being of rank, you’ll have your pick of the best ones when this war is done.”
While his words were cliche, Gaius felt, having heard it a hundred times to love-sick men he wondered if they were true. Was there another woman out there for him that would heal his broken heart?
NO! Gaius exclaimed with a fury, as he tossed his blanket to the floor.
Gaius grew bored with his inability to sleep, so he stood from his bunk, got dressed and decided to take a walk through the camp. Outside, the moon hung at its highest point. The nights had grown warmer, but still, there was a cold nip to the air, which forced Gaius to pull his cloak tighter around his shoulders.
The camp held four thousand men, nearly all of them under his command. More recruits were being conscripted daily from Italian settlements and other providence loyal to Rome. Gaius had to admit that he was impressed that a brand-new army could be raised so quickly. Of course, it was glory or vengeance that most of the new soldiers sought — their allegiance came from Paullus’ wealth, which, alongside the Senate had been funding far more legions than the Republic had ever fielded before.
Most of those men and young boys drafted into the legion were asleep within their goat-skinned tents. A few soldiers were gathered around fires, talking among themselves, sharing drink and stories with the veteran who had survived Trebia and Trasimene, or the riots that engulfed the city after.