Gaius felt like he was betraying the man — tearing out his heart right then and there. He desperately wanted to say something that could ease the consul’s mind, but he knew that no words could.
“Why…why her? I would have given you anything, Gaius — armies, wealth and power. I would even promote you as the next consul of Rome if you so asked. I would have set you and your descendents up for generations to come. Why her of all women?” his words weren’t spoken so much as statements, but almost as a bribe.
“Because, there are no other women, there never has been. I’ve loved Julia my entire life, and she loves me. She is all that I crave in this world, nothing more. I do not make this request likely, but I need her as I need air. The blood in my body aches for her. I’m nothing if she isn’t with me, in body and soul.”
“You know what she means to me! I’ve confided to you what I’ve never spoken to anyone before, and this is what you do to me!”
“I do not mean to create mistrust between us. Your friendship does mean a great deal to me.”
“Do not — ” Paullus wasn’t able to finish his sentence as his emotions had gotten the better of him. In his still weakened state, he fell into a coughing fit as he dropped to his knees. Both Gaius and Claudia tried to rush over to him, but Paullus raised his hand and cried out, “Don’t! Both of you get out of my sight! NOW!”
“Master…” Claudia tried to say as she looked on, a few feet behind Gaius.
“I said, leave me!” Paullus cried again as he spat out a mouthful of blood. He had exerted himself in his anger, but Gaius’ words had hurt him more than his still healing wounds, that much was painfully clear.
Gaius turned away from the consul and placed his hand on Claudia’s shoulder. She was already beginning to tear as she desperately wanted to run over to Paullus and help him, but Gaius urged her to leave him be.
“I am sorry, Paullus. I truly am,” Gaius said before he left him alone, who now rested his back up against the wall; his hands over his face.
“Take care of him,” Gaius then said to Claudia once the two were outside.
“I’m sorry, Gaius,” Claudia tried to say as she wiped away her tears.
“No. You have nothing to be sorry about. I did not mean for any of this. I just had…” He couldn’t even finish his own words. He felt it best that he should leave. “Be safe, Claudia,” and then Gaius left.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Gaius stood among a dozen officers. This was only the second time he'd stepped foot inside the Senate house of Rome. The last time it had been when the war with Hannibal had started and back then, which seemed like a decade ago, the Senate was confident in its resolve and its ability to crush the upstart warlord who had taken a tattered army of barbarians across the Alps, and crossed into Italy; however, a great deal had been lost since that day — whole armies, tens of thousands of lives, both military and civilian alike — more than the Republic had ever sustained in its long history. Lesser countries would have fallen under similar circumstances, and in fact, only days prior the Senate was debating whether or not to call for terms with Carthage.
Rome would have given up much of its territory — everything gained in the last war and then some, yet the Senate did not give into its fears and instead turned to another man to guide Rome from the crisis.
Gaius had seen many men, consuls and generals alike that vowed to win the war, but all had come from the same cloth — rich, influential, aristocratic individuals who sought personal glory and fame. Paullus had said the day prior when Gaius had spoken with him, Rome’s fathers were dead, and it was left to the sons to usher in a new era. Many feared that this nation would not survive another generation, no less another war; so, in response the Senate and people put its trust into the hands of Fabius Maximus.
Gaius had met him years before, the nephew of Varro that had seemed bent on irritating his uncle during that first dinner many months now past. Maximus had been outspoken then, a freethinker with radical ideas that did not, and in many ways still did not sit well with the social elite of Rome. However, like Gaius, Maximus was a changed man. He’s seen too much, and now expected a great deal from those men he was going to lead.
The Senate had just finished granting Maximus the title of Dictator. He would be the sole power in Rome — a king in everything but the name. He commanded the armies, navies and the political powers of the Republic. What he said, no man could question. It was a dangerous gamble, one that the Republic had tried desperately to avoid. The return to the old kings was every Roman greatest fear. However, at the moment, there was no other choice. If Rome was to survive it needed to speak with one voice until the crisis had passed, and the war won.
Gaius stood with the other officers listening to the closing statements from the various senators who applauded the decision to appoint Maximus as dictator. There was no real point to their speeches. The choice had been made and there was little need to justify why Maximus was the right candidate for the title. These men were merely playing the political game that Valerius had said he hated so much about the Republic — covering their own asses and positioning themselves to benefit from Maximus’ new post.
He ignored much of what they were saying as one speaking stood and gave his speech, followed by thunderous applause and cheers as Maximus sat quietly, smiling and nodding his thanks to each speaker. No, Gaius’ eyes had been locked on Paullus, who sat in the left stone marble seat of the consul — the second seat still empty as Varro’ place had not been filled.
Paullus had already stated that he would be staying out of politics and so far, it seemed he was doing just that. Beyond a few choice words earlier in the proceedings the consul had little to say about the historical events of the day.
From time to time, Paullus would turn and look over at Gaius. He could still see the anger in Paullus eyes when they stared at each other.
Gaius didn’t know what Paullus might do. He did not grant his request to release Julia of her marriage vows, and in fact, if he wanted he could drag Julia to the courts and force her to marry him, or perhaps even take away all of her father’s wealth, land and holdings for her violating their contract by having an affair with another man.
Gaius knew he should never have admitted that the two of them had slept together or shared a relationship. However, it was hard for him to lie to the man’s face when he knew the truth any ways. Truth be told, he didn’t regret anything he had said. It did pain him that he had hurt the consul, but he had to say what he felt in his heart. It seemed pointless, now with everything he had seen and lived through to continue to hide his love for her in the shadows — allowing proper Roman edict to stand in the way of expressing his true feelings.
When the last senator finished his long speech and sat back down, Maximus stood up and stepped out onto the Senate floor. He was dressed in his finest white robes with a dark-red tunic underneath. He stood quiet, for the moment, as he allowed the room full of senators to finish their applause before he spoke.
“We have suffered a great deal, we Romans have. Our lands have been tainted with barbarian filth. Our farms burnt, our cities raised, our citizens driven to the four corners of Italy, and our brave soldiers massacred by the thousands. And for what I ask you — for the personal glory of one-man — Hannibal?”
The mention of Hannibal’s name brought a chorus of jeers from the senators. Maximus just raised his hands and signaled for everyone to be silent.
“You have sent forth many of our city fathers to face this threat, and very few have returned alive. We have burned and grieved for too many of our greatest men since this war has started. We have lost entire armies, not once, not twice, but three times. And now you ask me where will we get more? How will we find new bodies to fill the ranks of our brave legions, and how will they be able to stop a man who most believed can’t be defeated?”