Swords of Rome

by Christopher Lee Buckner

  In the distance, Gaius could see a large wooden structure that housed an open theater. Currently, a play was being shown to the crowd of adults and children that laughed and jeered at the performance of a strange-looking man, who wore a multi-colored dress and white-painted face. He carried an over-sized shield and sword. His hair was colored gold and was curled. Top his head was an unpleasant helmet that was adorned with large white feathers. In his crotch, hung a huge fake penis that the actor frequently waved and pointed at the audience, drawing a chorus of cheers and laughter from them; its meaning completely lost on Gaius as he watched from afar.

  Two bare-breasted women ran around the stage as a very short man, only as tall as a small boy, perused them with his hands held out, trying to grab them from behind.

  The tiny man was dressed in the fashion of a Persian king; dark clothing with long black curled hair and a thick beard. He acted like a clown as he chased the two women, who screamed out until finally, the gold-locked man stepped between them, and smacked the short king over his head with the fake sword, and then poked him with his oversized penis as the little man fell.

  The king dropped to his knees and began to plead for his life. The hero, however, stood over him and waved his prop over the defeated man’s head.

  The crowd loved all of it even though not a word had been uttered on stage, but soon Gaius began to recognize some of the similarities in the play as the story of Alexander the Greats conquest of the Persian Empire.

  He smiled even though he felt that the historic interpretation of the actors was terribly wrong.

  “The people don’t seem to be too concerned about the prospect of war,” Gaius commented to Valerius as the two stepped down from their horses once they reached the Roman Senate.

  “Bah. War is only an inconvenience to most of these people. Nothing that would actually affect their mood; and besides, most the dying will come from the allies any ways,"” Valerius snarled.

  Gaius looked up at the Senate. The sizeable structure that hosed the power behind the Republic wasn’t entirely what he was expecting, as the Curia wasn’t grand or set high upon a hill like the Acropolis in Greece. It looked more like a large house, built in a simple fashion, set against some of the most important structures in Rome. It was painted red and purple and adorned with flowers. Banners of the Republic draped down the side of the building, while the two large heavy wooden doors that led into the Senate were currently wide open, indicating that session was in order and any citizen was technically invited to listen to the hearings, although, most did not bother or dared to set foot inside.

  Still, Gaius did not let his imagination overshadow the importance of the building. He knew inside were the most powerful men in Rome — those that commanded the loyalty of the people and the army, governed the provinces, and ensured that Rome’s light shine the brightest in the world. And, while the Senate did not make or pass the laws, their collective voices helped shape the course of Rome’s future.

  Gaius was so intrigued by the Senate building that he failed to notice what greeted him.

  Along the base of the walls was a row of beggars, many of whose hands were stretched out as they pleaded for coins from the numerous citizens passing by.

  The wretched souls looked as if they had just crawled out from their own graves, and took residence in front of the symbol of power. Their clothing was a mix of tattered rags and patch-work of other garments and as Gaius came closer to them, their smell was unbearable, which was made worse by the rain.

  Most of the men, far too sad and miserable to look at, seemed to be living ghosts, their faces were pale and hair matted. All of them looked older than their true age would have testified to.

  Their wary eyes stared up at Gaius as he was forced to walk passed them in order to reach the Senate doors. A few of the beggars raised their hands out towards him, asking without words for a few coins. Gaius, feeling sick from their smell, ignored them as he held his breath and continued up the steps.

  As he reached the Senate doors, he let out a gasp and breathed in fresh air. Even now, he was still able to smell their filth. It made him want to throw up. He was ashamed that a man could let their lives fall to such ruin that he wished they would just go away, swept down the gutters like the trash, carried off by the rain water.

  Gaius was about to speak to Valerius, who he assumed was still with him; no doubt having to also hold his breath and hurriedly climb the Senate steps to avoid the beggars. However, when he looked back Valerius was nowhere to be seen.

  And then Gaius saw him, strangely standing at the base of the steps talking to several of the beggars, seemly asking a pair of men questions.

  Gaius couldn’t hear what was being said, not over the rain and the chorus of voices that carried over the forum. A moment later he watched as Valerius reached to his belt, removing a small leather bag that was attached to his waist, before tossing it, along with its contents of silver to the three men.

  Gaius was dumbfounded as he watched the beggars rise to their feet, shake Valerius’ hand before they ran off, pushing through the bodies of citizens before disappearing from view.

  “Who were those men? Did you know them?” Gaius asked as Valerius climbed the steps and joined him.

  “I do not know. Just soldiers, like you and I.”

  “Are you serious?” Gaius asked, the shock on his face evident as he looked back down at the beggars, studying them with careful attention. A number of them were indeed wearing the red tunics, although now badly faded and stained, of the legion.

  “It is a disgrace that they have allowed themselves to fall so far.” Gaius spat as his eyes drifted away from the former legionnaires and back towards Valerius.

  “Do not fault them, Gaius. Not every man was made to serve the legions, or has the body and mind to come home, after living through and seeing what most men will never experience.”

  “Regardless, what makes you think they won’t spend the money you gave them on drink and women?” Gaius asked.

  “I don’t know, and I do not care. It is no longer my money,” Valerius replied plainly.

  “A waste of coin if you ask me,” Gaius commented rudely.

  “Then it is a good thing I did not ask for your permission.” Valerius’ tone was controlled, not holding Gaius’ empty words to heart, but he was firm, nonetheless.

  “Come; stop straining yourself on matters your young mind can’t possibly understand right now. You’ve yet to see a senatorial session. Wait until it has concluded, then your outlook on Roman life will be even more distorted than it is now.”

  Gaius did not reply as he stared at Valerius with a questionable expression before the legate of the Sixth escorted him inside.

  Inside three hundred senators sat tightly, shoulder-to-shoulder on two sets of elevated stone benches. Their combined voices echoed over the marble and limestone chamber as they debated without pause about Rome’s most pressing issues, which were numerous, beyond that of the approaching army, led by Hannibal.

  Two seats sat in the center of the chamber. There, the two co-consuls would have sat, but on this day only Consul Gaius Flaminius was present as his counterpart was out of the city.

  The chamber was well lit; the sweat smell of the oil that burned filled the room as Gaius and Valerius walked unobtrusively, making sure not to interrupt the proceedings. Several other officers also stood near the back, where they listened with restraint.

  As Gaius spend the next couple hours' listening, the day’s proceedings were filled with debates on taxes, shipping and trade issues with several Greek states, piracy, plague, grain shortages in distant territories, and of course, finally, Hannibal and his alliance of barbarian northerners making their way down across the Alps.

  Speaking now was an older senator who looked to be in his late sixties. He held the folds of his toga in one hand, while the other he brandished violently in the air as he spoke, dramatically.

  “The destruction of Saguntum by the Carthaginian,
Hannibal ten years ago was a clear sign that his government, which has already refused our demands for justice, has always been seeking war with the Republic,” the senator named Quintus spoke loud enough for all to hear him. Numerous senators added their angry voices to his claims as he continued once the roars lessened.

  “Now, reports tell us that Hannibal has amassed an army of fifty thousand, many of whom are Gallic barbarians that have sworn their service to him, as long as he promises them Rome. Hannibal’s intentions are very clear: with his army, he will threaten the whole of Italy once he has completed his journey across the Alps, and yet this Senate will do nothing in response to this act of aggression!”

  “We sent an envoy to Carthage, numerous times since Saguntum’s fall,” one senator spoke up, trying to defend the actions of those that did not support the call for war.

  “And they continually refused our demands for peace, have they not?” Quintus asked, which was followed by an uproar of anger.

  “We offered them peace, and they refused it,” another man proclaimed.

  “We must still try to continue with peace talks. The actions of Hannibal are not the desires of Carthage. Even they have acknowledged this much to us.”

  “Yet, they support him!” a voice called out.

  “We cannot hold a whole country accountable for the actions of one man. If this Senate declares war on Carthage, a war we are in no position to fight right now, then our enemies, those nearer to us, will act. It is the continuing conflicts in Greece and Macedonia that we need to focus our attention on, not some renegade general and his band of barbarian followers,” Liberius announced, but quickly his cautious words were drowned out by the supporters for war.

  “You only care about your grain shipments, and not the honor of your country, Liberius!” Senator Appius yelled as he challenged his colleague’s loyalty to Rome; his words caused another outburst between the two factions.

  “We cannot ignore the threats from Greece, nor can we deny that the Carthaginians have brought war to our lands once again,” a new voice stood as he tried to be the voice of reason.

  “Agreed!” Yelled both factions, as each believed the words were in support of their point of view.

  Consul Flaminius raised his hands, begging for his fellow representatives to be silent as he rose to his feet.

  “Fellow senators, I do not wish war with Carthage. The last conflict our two nations shared was bloody, and cost the lives of many of our finest men. It is true that the protection of our grain shipments from Greece and the East take priority over the threat that Hannibal poses.”

  Numerous hecklers erupted as those that support the cause for war responded to what the consul was saying.

  Flaminius again raised his hands and asked for silence.

  “However, this act of aggression by a single man cannot go unpunished.”

  Cheers replaced the negative jeers as the volume in the chambers rose higher.

  “If our enemies see that Rome takes no action to defend our allies, and punish those responsible for defying the Republic’s laws, then we as a nation would have proven that we are not up to the task of crushing even the tiniest insect, or protecting our friends. For this, Hannibal and his barbarian horde must be crushed, and Carthage, taught a lesson it shall never forget!”

  The sound of applause and cheering was deafening as three hundred senators stood to their feet in support of Flaminius. Even those that were opposed to war quickly reconsidered their position; it would not be patriotic to stand against the consul.

  “I will send word for Publius Cornelius Scipio to raise an army and march them north, and cut Hannibal’s advance into our territories,” Flaminius proclaimed. “Once Scipio has dealt with this unprovoked aggression we shall send Hannibal’s head back to his country!”

  For several minutes, the Senate commemorated Flaminius’ call for war. Already the bloodlust within the house was beginning to boil and would soon reach the streets outside where thousands of citizens and freedmen would eagerly be waiting to hear the news.

  The prospect of such a large war was frightening to Gaius, and yet exciting. He was young and had trained for such a day. However, as he looked over towards Valerius, expecting the old general to be beaming with excitement, his mentor’s face was blank, and his eyes filled with concern and disappointment.

  “How many legions will be sent?” a senator cried out.

  “Hannibal is but one man with an army of barbarians. We do not need to combine our legions to deal with him. So, we shall leave this victory to Scipio and his men, as they are already nearer to the border, and have more experience in dealing with the Celts than anyone in this room,” Flaminius replied as he sat back down.

  “Only one legion, are you mad?” a chorus of voices spoke up, but their concerns were drowned by the overwhelming supporters.

  “Bah, he just wants Scipio out of Rome. The bloody fool cares nothing about stopping Hannibal. If there was glory in it, he would be leading the army himself,” Valerius mumbled quietly to himself.

  Gaius stared nervously over at him, seeing that a number of the other officers too agreed with the veteran’s statement. They marched with the men to Rome, expecting to be called upon to confront Hannibal, now it seems they weren’t needed, or were going to be sent elsewhere to protect wealthy men’s purses.

  After a few closing statements from other senators, they began to exit into the forum, where crowds had formed on the steps of the Senate, waiting to hear about the day’s proceedings.

  Gaius remained with Valerius as he spoke to his colleagues, expressing their concern privately to each other. Already it seemed they were planning their own strategy in case the worst should happen, and Hannibal should break through Scipio’s legion. For the moment, at least, the Sixth would be staying put, which disappointed Gaius more than he figured it would.

  Gaius’ attention was turned as he heard his named suddenly called among the crowd of senators and advisors that had gathered, speaking openly among themselves.

  At first, he did not recognize the man who called his name, as he stepped through the crowd, a joyful, surprised expressing on his face, and spoke again.

  “Gaius? By Jupiter’s beard, is that really you?”

  “Antony?” Gaius questioned before he too recognized his boyhood friend.

  Antony stopped before Gaius, holding him in his hands as he looked taller, larger man over in careful detail; the smile on his face was ear-to-ear.

  “Look at you. You really did it. A real, honest to gods’ soldier of Rome,” Antony said with a prideful voice as he embraced Gaius.

  “And you, a senator of all things.”

  Antony laughed. “Hardly; I’m too young. I leave that to my father, but I do, someday, have to follow in his footsteps, so it seems. So all I do is sit quietly and let him do all the talking, like a good puppet. I never get to take part in all the excitement. However, it is a start. I suppose.”

  “The Senate can’t be that bad, can it?” Gaius asked.

  “Ah, my friend, I’m afraid that the Rome we grew up dreaming of is a far lesser thing than we imagined. This city is harsh, and so is its politics. Take what you heard today. What our dear consular said is only the tip of the spear. He will hang Scipio out to dry — if he fails, he loses favor, allowing Flaminius to take the glory when he marches his own army north to stop Hannibal. However, if Scipio wins, then he doesn’t receive as much praise: he only crushed a rogue general and his band of barbarians, and Flaminius still stands tall as he moves against Carthage. Regardless, he gets what he wants at the expense of our men.”

  Antony leaned closer to Gaius and whispered, “Truthfully, almost everyone here is my age. Politics does terrible things to a man’s youth. It is a very slow and painful death,” Antony laughed.

  Gaius managed a false smile. He was beginning to see that Rome, the eternal city of light he’d grown up believing in, was indeed becoming something else entirely. There were harsh realities that his ey
es had opened up to this day, as Rome seemed a city of horrible contradictions.

  “You are in a position to make changes, are you not?” Gaius asked.

  “Perhaps, someday; however, as I said, politics is a game, a rather difficult and dangerous one. I have to play it by its rules or risk being swallowed up by it. I must admit I envy you, my friend. At least, your enemies won’t slit your throat while you sleep.” Antony’s words were friendly, but Gaius could hear in the undertone the unfortunate truth.

  “Antony! Come, it is time we leave,” one of the older senators called out.

  Antony turned to face his father, his face beaming with excitement.

  “Father, come over here and see who has graced us with his presence.”

  Varro was puzzled for a moment, not sure whom he was looking at as he walked over and stood next to his son. But then he recalled the young man that stood before him, as his eyes widen with genuine admiration.

  “Young Gaius, is that really you?”

  “Senator Varro, I am pleased to see you are doing well, sir.”

  “Well, look at you, an officer in Rome’s legions, and one of Valerius’ Wolves too. Wonderfully done, my boy.”

  “I am honored to serve Rome, and the Sixth Legion, sir.”

  “As you should be, he is famed and respected, even among us older senators. I’ll tell you what, I’m having a get-together with a few friends at my city estate, and I would be honored if you could attend this evening as my guest.”

  “Yes, that would be a brilliant idea, father,” Antony eagerly spoke.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I wouldn’t wish to impose. We are only in the city for a short while,” Gaius replied, as he wasn’t sure he was ready for this sudden reunion.

  Antony leaned closer to him and spoke softly into Gaius’ ear.

  “Julia will be there. I know for a fact that she will be very excited to see you again, after so many years apart.”

  Gaius’ posture suddenly changed at hearing Antony speak of his sister. His mind worked out what his answer would be as he wanted, needed to see her again. However, the prospect also frightened him terribly. Nevertheless, he gave his answer with a warm smile.