The Last Roman (The Praetorian Series - Book I)

by Edward Crichton

  ***

  We recovered from the moment and rushed to the adjoining room to see numerous Roman Praetorians crowding our building, with plenty more outside. Helena and I had our side arms at the ready, but lowered them when we saw the recognizable faces of our new friends. I noticed Gaius near the door, and offered him a friendly nod. He returned it imperceptibly, but I saw a look of worry on his stone hard face.

  Vincent was standing between us and them, his arms upraised between us to ward off any aggressive action before it started. Wang and Santino were kneeling in the doorway opposite the entrance, their rifles directed at our guests. Both men were shirtless and looked as though they had been preparing to get some sleep.

  “Stand down,” Vincent ordered, motioning for all of us to put our weapons down.

  He turned to face them, offering them a look of annoyed expectancy. The Romans waited patiently for us to put our weapons away. Once satisfied we wouldn’t shoot them, the centurion, Quintilius, stepped forward.

  “There has been an incident on the Palatine which requires your attention,” he said, pointedly. “Earlier today, prior to your return from Gaul, Caligula became very ill, and is now bed ridden.”

  Vincent and I exchanged glances. This was it. The pivotal point in Caligula’s reign, the catalyst for his legacy, but the timing was off. Caligula wasn’t even in Rome when he got sick. I now knew it was no longer a question of whether or not we were changing things.

  We were.

  “We are unsure of the cause,” Quintilius said, “but up until this morning, Caligula was in perfect health. We suspect poison. We…” he trailed off, glancing at his comrades before continuing, “we’re here of our own accord. No one sent us. We were hoping maybe you could help him.”

  Vincent looked thoughtful, but Quintilius continued before he could say anything.

  “There’s more. We also have information of an armed mob congregating on the far side of the city, led by members of the Senate. Rumors of an uprising have been circulating for weeks now, and it looks like dissenters plan to take advantage of Caligula’s weakened position. If you are truly here to help us, you must commit to our cause now. We may need to flee Rome at any time, and you won’t be able to come back.” He took a step forward and stared coldly at Vincent. “Are you with us?”

  Vincent’s eyes met the floor before he glanced over at me. I shrugged. We were well beyond the point of no return in regards to maintaining the status quo, and the alternative to helping seemed like a death sentence, anyway.

  He nodded. “We’re with you.”

  The centurion nodded as well. “We thank you. Please, make your way to the Palatine as quickly as possible. I believe the need for you to stay under guard is at an end, so please leave at your discretion, but do hurry. My men and I will attempt to quell the uprising before it ignites, but we cannot make any guarantees. Take what you can with you and we will arrange to have your extra supplies moved. Gaius will remain here with you, just in case. He’ll follow whatever order you give him.”

  Vincent nodded, and tapped his closed fist against his chest. “We’ll do what we can, Centurion.”

  The man returned the gesture before rounding up his men and leaving as quickly as he could, Gaius remaining with us.

  Vincent started moving toward his room.

  “All right, people. I want you ready in ten minutes. Get your three day assault packs ready. I want you heavy with ammunition. Looks we’ll be saying goodbye to our little home away from home.”

  “Damn,” Santino said, “and I was just about ready to plant a garden out front. I was thinking tulips.”