Whom Gods Destroy: A Novel of Ancient Rome (The Sertorius Scrolls Book 4)

by Vincent B Davis II

  Her eyelashes batted bashfully when we parted.

  “I didn’t know you felt the same way.”

  “I didn’t either.” She looked down. “Eros—or Cupid as you call him—abandoned me after being treated the way I was,” she said. “I did not know to look for his arrow.”

  “If I could go back and kill them all, I would,” I said and meant it.

  “I know you would. And I would too. But the damage has been done.”

  “So you cannot love again?”

  A sad smile parted her pink lips. “Perhaps I already have.”

  I stood and took one of her hands within my own. “So then you’ll return with me to Rome?”

  She blinked a few tears but they clang to her lashes. “This is my home. These are my people, and they need me,” she said. “now more than ever.”

  “Andromache… I…”

  “I wish I could.” A tear fell freely now.

  I pulled her in closer. “In another life then?”

  “In another life…”

  I squeezed her hand and kissed the tear from her cheek. “I will never forget you, Andromache.”

  “Stay with me,” she said.

  I stammered, “My … people…”

  She nodded. She understood.

  The few centurions still remaining called for the men to line up. It was time to leave.

  “There will always be a home for you in Sparta.”

  I wrapped her up in my arm, finding her more fragile and delicate than I’d imagined. I smelt the fragrance of her hair, and for a moment all slowed down around us.

  “In another life,” I said.

  “In another life.”

  I kissed her once more, and savored it till the last moment.

  The buccinae sounded and the legions started their march. I closed the carriage door behind me and my driver whipped the reins.

  I watched her until she faded back into the city of warriors, knowing a piece of my heart remained with her.

  Scroll XXVII

  Quintus Sertorius

  I was far too familiar a presence to need to knock at Niarchos’ now. Besides, I hoped to surprise them. I gently pushed open the unlocked doors and crept through on cat’s paws, hoping I might find Kirrha in the hallway and jump out to give her a fright. I followed the sound of a harp to the courtyard and leaned up against the doorway to look in before anyone could see me.

  Kirrha was the one playing, and Anthea stood beside her tossing seed to the house birds while listening intently. Niarchos had brought his potter’s lathe in from his workshop, and Anaiah was working on it while he stood behind her.

  “If you add a little more water the clay will be more pliable,” he said, leaning down and assisting.

  Then I saw Anaiah smile. The first time I’d seen it—so sweet and innocent—unmarred by the cruel machinations of evil men.

  “It’s a good thing to see, isn’t it?” Apollonius said quietly behind me.

  I jumped with a start, finding myself the victim to my own schemes. “Did you miss me?”

  He shrugged. “We hardly noticed you were gone.” He grinned and embraced me. “I’m so thankful you’ve returned to us.”

  I looked back to the courtyard where the lathe started spinning out of control, muddy clay flying about. But Anaiah and Niarchos were laughing.

  “I’m glad I’ve returned as well. I’m ready to go home.”

  “You know I’m coming with you?” Apollonius’ grey eyes became serious.

  I swallowed, relieved but somehow sad as well. “I did not know that. I’m thankful to hear it though. There will always be room for you and Anaiah in my home.”

  He shook his head. “No… I think Anaiah will be staying here.”

  “What?”

  He nodded to the room. “Look. They have a family. Niarchos and Anthea were made to raise children. Kirrha and Anaiah both need a sister. My God or your gods have orchestrated this arrangement, and I’ll not be the one to disturb it,” he said. “Besides, I go wherever you go. And where we go isn’t pleasant. No place for a sweet young girl.”

  “Where do we go exactly?” I said, facetiously.

  “Back to Rome.” He exhaled. “I debated on telling you this… but in your absence I opened your mail as instructed.” He waited for me to signal for him to continue.

  “Go on.”

  “The Tribune Marcus Drusus was assassinated in Rome, and the city has fallen into chaos.” He slowed now and I could tell he was struggling to finish. “Gavius writes that he and Arrea have taken up in the home of Sulla, under his protection.”

  My heart sank, but I stayed my panic. Fear and anger could do nothing for me now, so I swallowed them down for a time when they might be more useful.

  I forced a smile. “We need to return home quickly then.” I placed a hand on his shoulder. I about entered the garden but then stopped and turned again to my friend. “You’ve just found Anaiah after all this time. I’ll hate myself for separating you again.”

  His eyes stared past me at Niarchos and his niece as they had begun throwing clay at one another. “I’ll say again: I go where you go. To battle, to your Hades, or to my Gehenna. Like it or not, we’re one now. And besides,” he said. “I’d rather know that she’s here—safe and in the arms of a loving family. This is all I could’ve ever wanted.”

  I could find no words to express my unending gratitude, so I embraced him firmly instead.

  “Look who has returned,” I said when I entered. “just as I promised.”

  “Quintus!” Kirrha shouted as she and Anaiah ran to greet me.

  I embraced each in their turn and then knelt to dig through my satchel. “And at your request I’ve brought you…” I pulled out red and yellow flowers to find them smushed in my bag. The pedals were still attached, but they drooped like a frown. I was probably more upset than the girls. “I apologize. I thought I’d protected them.”

  The girls both took them from me and pretended they loved them regardless.

  “It matches the color of my eyes,” Kirrha said. “I’ll use mine as a bookmark in one of Apollonius’s scrolls.” She twirled with delight.

  “You’ll have to learn to read first, dearest.” Apollonius chuckled.

  “I think it’s perfect.” Anaiah placed hers behind her ear, and under a curl of golden hair. “Thank you, Quintus,” she said.

  “Unfortunately there’s not much else from the battlefield you’d find of use.” I turned to Niarchos and Anthea, “You two however…” I tossed a bag of coins that struck Niarchos in his chest.

  “Now, do not insult me.” Niarchos huffed like he usually did.

  I shook my head. “The spoils of war. Certainly it should be shared with my gracious hosts?”

  He stepped forward and held out the purse. “I cannot accept this. I am your friend and duty binds me to—”

  “Oh, that’s not for you,” I said. “That’s for her.” I pointed to Anthea as everyone chuckled. “Someone should pay the woman for putting up with you.”

  A tear slid down Anthea’s face as she hugged me again.

  “Thank you, Quintus,” she said, better at accepting kindness than her husband.

  “It’s I who should be grateful,” I said. “You deserve all the gold in the world for the love you’ve shown these girls.”

  Niarchos managed a smile and placed a meaty hand on the girls’ shoulders.

  “We’re grateful you brought them into our home. The gods have truly blessed us,” Anthea said, smiling but with a tinge of sadness in her eyes.

  I grinned, knowing how delighted they’d be when Apollonius and I told them of our plan. They’d be the consummate family, the kind poets write about and tutors encourage young children to pursue. Their names would be lost to the sands of time, but they’d never have to suffer the brutality of warfare, sedition, or political violence.

  And for that, I was grateful. Another sacrifice needed to be made to Diana.

  The camp was still being con
structed when I returned. The men were moving slowly, both as a result of our depleted ranks and the fact that the rest of them were hungover from the wine of celebration.

  “Look like you’re happy to be serving, boys,” I said as they groaned. “We’ll be leaving soon.”

  Didius’ praetorium was only partially constructed in the center of camp, but I knew I’d still find him within.

  “There he is,” Didius said as I entered. “The man of the hour.”

  He ignored my salute and embraced me as a dear friend.

  Kallias was beside him, smiling. “Your commander has been regaling me with stories of your brilliance.”

  “All exaggerated, I’m sure,” I said, kissing the priest’s cheek.

  Didius rolled his eyes. “Nonsense. I stand nothing to gain by exaggerating the exploits of anyone but myself. We’ll just see if I’m still feeling as gracious when I stand before the senate.” Didius winked and poured me a cup of wine.

  We all lifted our cups and took a sip.

  “It’s quite amazing what a man can do when he’s anxious to return home,” I said. “That’s all there was to it.”

  “You give yourself too little credit,” Didius said. “But I’ll be happy to collect for myself the credit you leave on the table.”

  We laughed. It finally felt like this nightmare had concluded, like waking from the dream of the woman in the forest. It was behind me now, and difficult to imagine that it was even all real.

  “So much for the gods’ curse,” Didius said.

  “Perhaps we’ve done enough to assuage them.” I shrugged.

  Kallias nodded. “The gods are quick to forgive courageous men,” he said. “Still, I think you should sacrifice in their honor.”

  “Agreed,” Didius said. “To whom should we pay restitutions, legate?”

  “We’re in the city of Athena,” I said. “To whom else should we sacrifice?”

  “Very well. We should sacrifice to Athena Parthenos. Perhaps we can do so this evening.”

  Kallias shook his head. “I’m afraid the Acropolis is shut down to visitors for the evening.” He smiled. “Even visitors as illustrious as yourselves. Tomorrow perhaps?”

  “I was planning to march out with the men in the morning,” Didius said.

  “To assist the men in the south?” I asked.

  “Gods no. Have you not heard? The seventeenth legion won a major victory over the rebels in Lakonia. They’ve found and assassinated the Polemarch and are on route to join us presently.”

  I nearly spilled my drink with relief, so I took a sip instead.

  “I guess you’re ready to move on then?” Kallias said, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “I’m glad there are no more battles to be fought, but I’m disappointed to see you go.”

  “What about the third member of Cerberus? The guardian of Hades is said to have three heads, does he not?” I asked.

  Didius waved it off. “No matter. Let the bastard cling to the shadows. The gods will see him to justice soon enough. But for now, their armies are crushed. They are a ship at sea with a torn sail. We’ve won and they know it,” he said. “All those who seek to defy Rome have a shining example of why they shouldn’t. The Archon’s severed head should be proof of that.”

  “So we really are ready to leave then?” I said, still struggling to believe it.

  “We should be back in Rome before month’s end. I’ve sent word for the ships to prepare for boarding on the western banks of Megaris.”

  A beam of light stretched throughout the tent when a flap opened. Castor stepped inside.

  When he saw me, he didn’t look away, but met my eye and nodded. I saw a bashful smile develop as mine grew as well. “Have you any need of me, Proconsul?”

  “I do have a final order,” Didius said, straightening like he was about to give some grave and arduous task. “I release you back into the command of your legate. May you continue to bear his shield with courage and excellence.”

  He let his smile shine now, and I reached my hand out to clasp his.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said. He turned to me and whispered, “I’ve been making some new wood carvings. I think you’ll really like them. One of them is supposed to be a dog from your missing friend’s house.”

  “I’ll get my coin ready.” I smiled and was as relieved to have Castor back at my side as I was to leave Greece. It’s difficult to explain why, but some people just have a way of bringing peace into your life. Castor was such a person, and even then I knew those people were too important to let go. There isn’t enough of them.

  “Back to the sacrifice,” Didius said. “I could leave you behind with a contingent of men to perform the ceremony. After you’ve concluded you can meet us on the path to Megaris. Acceptable?”

  “What do you say, legionary Castor? Would you like to sacrifice to the gods with me? We can earn cleansing for all the bad things we’ve done and pray for their protection on the journey home.”

  He grinned his boyish grin and nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “Who else should stay behind?” I asked.

  Didius shrugged. “You can ask the men yourself if you’d like. I doubt many of them will volunteer for double the marching and standing through a religious ceremony for hours on end.”

  I chuckled. “You may be right about that.” I turned to Kallias. “Can we go in full kit?”

  He shook his head. “If you go armed and in armor you might risk offending the gods. Better to go as civilians, if you can manage it.”

  I stretched and tugged at my chainmail. “I’m ready to get this damned thing off anyhow.”

  “Will you join us, Kallias?” Castor asked, sheepishly.

  The old priest smiled and placed a wrinkly hand on Castor’s shoulder. “No, my boy. These past few years have weighed heavily on my old bones,” he said. “and my wine cellar has remained woefully neglected throughout. I believe I’ll retire to my quarters and sip in my own little ceremony to the gods.” He smiled and turned to me. “But something tells me the gods will be smiling on you.”

  “That would be a welcome change,” I said.

  We laughed, free from care and concern for the first time in as long as I could remember.

  Scroll XXVIII

  Quintus Sertorius

  The knife cut deep, and the victim made no sound of resistance with his dying breath. Blood seeped out and ran through the cracks of the marble altar.

  I waited patiently for awhile, but Didius was right in his prediction that the ceremony would last several hours.

  We were ready to go home. The men were restless and moving at attention far more than they were supposed to. I would have chastised them if I didn’t feel the same way.

  I gestured for Castor and the rest of the fifty or so odd men who joined us to remain in place. I scaled the steps to the altar of Athena Polias and the two young priests as they directed the blood into a pewter cup. “What does it look like?”

  One of the young priests smiled and pulled down his hood. “The gods demand more sacrifice,” he said. “but they favor you.”

  I smiled and exhaled. All I needed was to receive another bad omen before we got back on those damned boats.

  “We’ll let you tell them,” the other priest said as they stepped down from the altar.

  I knelt before the sacrifice for a moment and placed my hands on the cold stone. The simple offerings of Athenians were strewn about all around the goat, everything from apples to burnt offerings. I prayed they received Athena’s blessing as well. I stood and turned to the men.

  They waited, praying their own prayers that the gods favored us, and we could travel back to Italy in safety.

  “Men of Rome.” I paused for the theatrics of it all, determined to keep them waiting as long as I could. “The gods favored us!”

  The fifty men yelled like they were five hundred, breaking ranks and throwing their arms around one another in mutual joy.

  “You can now approach the altar, one by
one, to say your individual prayers. When we’ve concluded, as Athena dines on the fumes of our sacrifice, we shall dine on the meat.” They cheered again. Like me, they were ready for something more substantial than the slop they gave us in camp. The priest tapped me on my arm to remind me. “Oh… yes. You may purchase turtle doves from the priests if you’d like to make a sacrifice of your own.”

  “At a discount,” one of the priests added.

  I strolled back down to the men as a few of them hurried up to get their prayers out of the way.

  “Do you think the gods have forgiven us?” Castor asked.

  I smiled. “I don’t think you have anything to ask forgiveness for, my boy,” I said. “but I hope they’ve forgiven me.”

  He shrugged, unsure of himself. “I think they’ve forgiven you. I have.”

  “You have?” I said, throwing my arm around his shoulders and leading him away from the formation.

  We passed by the Erecthyion where Athena and Poseidon were said to have fought over the patronage of Athens. Poseidon struck water from the ground by throwing his trident from the heavens. Athena raised the first olive tree from the ground. We all know who won.

  Castor didn’t know the history of it all but was fascinated nonetheless. We’d spent all this time in Greece, and spent so little time here, in this sacred place.

  I led him around the precipice, past the sanctuary of Zeus, and looked out over the city with him. Breathtaking. We could see the Areopagus, beneath which we stormed the slave quarters. We could see the neighborhoods of the cloth dyers, and across from it the neighborhood of the potters, where I’d been living with Niarchos all this time. We could see the unfinished temple of Zeus as well, the one which had remained unfinished for centuries as a rebellion against tyranny.

  “You see that mountain?” I said. “That’s Mount Pentelicus. All the marble used to construct these temples were brought from there.”

  “Really?” He squinted his eyes. “It’s awfully silly for them to go so far. What about these mountains here?”