“I did what any good Roman would have done,” he replied, not wanting to take too much credit for what he had done.
In his eyes, the operation was still a failure, to some degree. Calfax escaped. Valerius died as a result of the battle, and hundreds of Romans had been tortured and murdered. He didn’t think he would ever let himself off the hook for that day, what he could have had done differently — acted sooner to save more lives.
“Perhaps, but it was you that saved us. And for that, you have my gratitude, and love.”
Gaius smiled at her, accepting her words.
“Claudia, could I ask you something personal?”
“Of course.”
Gaius hesitated. He thought that perhaps he couldn't ask his question on second thought, but he saw, as she looked up at him, waiting eagerly for him to ask that she want to hear him.
“While you were in the camp…well, it was filled with runaway slaves, many like you, young women. They had their freedom, even for a short time, yet, you stayed with the consul when you could have left him — ran away or joined the slaves if you so wished. Why did you stay with Paullus, despite that it could have cost you your life?”
Claudia crossed her arms as she lowered her head and thought about his words.
“To be honest, Gaius, I did think about it…many times. But I couldn’t…I couldn’t leave, Paullus…I…”
Gaius observed that Claudia had not called Paullus by his title, as she should have. Her words seemed to trail off as her mind returned to those days, now weeks past. She looked as if she was going to say more even though she seemed afraid to continue, but she didn’t have to as Gaius placed his hand on her shoulders, easing her nerves.
“It is okay. I understand.”
She smiled and escorted him towards the rear of the house. When they turned the corner, they walked into a large room. Gaius saw Paullus right away as he was standing near the far corner, near the balcony. He was dressed, shaved and cleaner than Gaius had recalled seeing him, and as he turned and faced them once Claudia had announced Gaius’ presence, Paullus smile with a big grin as he limped over towards the man who saved his life.
Gaius met Paullus halfway, not wanting the man to injury himself further by trying to make the journey to greet his guest.
The swelling around Paullus’ face had gone down considerably, and he had even managed to gain back some of the weight he had lost. Still, Gaius knew that Paullus should have remained in bed a few weeks longer. However, he obviously wanted to make the effort.
“Consul, it does my heart well to see that you are up and about,” Gaius said as he took Paullus’ hand once it was extended.
“And it feels good I assure you. In fact, it feels amazing to be alive.”
Gaius noticed Claudia's smile as she listened to her master’s cheerful words as he escorted Gaius over to a series of plush chairs.
“Wine, breed, fruit?” Paullus offered as Claudia helped him down into his chair.
Gaius made sure to sit after the consul had before he politely declined the display that was set out before him.
“I am sorry to hear that Valerius did not survive his wounds,” Paullus then said, his voice filled with genuine sorrow.
“As am I; he will be missed by the Sixth,” Gaius replied.
“He will be missed by all of Rome. While I did not know him, as well as I would have liked, I always liked that he spoke his mind, and seemed to know more than he let on. He properly could have been consul himself if he hadn’t distanced himself from Rome and politics as much as he had.”
“He loved Rome, but detested its politics. His end came as he had wanted, in battle, among his men.”
“I’m afraid very few men such as he is left. This war has claimed many of our city fathers, and greatest generals. Rome, and this war will be passed to men such as you, Gaius — our youth.”
“Rome has you, sir.”
Paullus smiled as he shook his head before taking a sip of spice wine that Claudia had poured him moments earlier.
“No. I had my chance, and I failed. It is hard for me to admit, but I was as foolish and brash as my predecessors were. How many of our brave sons could still be here if better men than I had led them? Instead, I marched them to their doom. I’m done with politics and the army. I will sit the rest of my term as consul out, and let Rome be as it will be. My service is done.”
Paullus seemed sadden by his words, but Gaius could see in his eyes that he was indeed tired. His brush with death was it. He wasn’t afraid Gaius felt, but the very thought of having to go out there again and face Rome’s enemies, must have terrified him. He didn’t blame him.
“Then, what will you do now?” Gaius asked.
“You know I really don’t know. I never wanted this life to begin with. However, family legacy is important to our people, so I was expected for this life. So I had to follow it. Perhaps now, maybe, I will marry and grow something useful. I have — had a farm that I enjoyed a great deal, until Hannibal burnt it down last year. I think I will rebuild it next summer and start anew, start a family and just grow old and fat.” Paullus had a funny smile as, his words drifted off, as his mind was already in that field working under the hot glare of the sun, planting and cultivating the land as his children ran about, enjoying their freedom.
“I think that is wonderful…A worthy goal indeed.”
“Do not worry, before I go, I will make sure that Valerius’ Will is honored in the Senate. His wealth, his lands and the Sixth Legion will be yours, as he instructed. Congratulations, General,” Paullus said with a raised goblet.
Gaius nodded his thanks. He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. He not at any time wanted this, and did not expect it. Valerius had at no time made any mention of his plans after his death. Gaius assumed the Sixth would be given to another officer who was appointed by the Senate, or handed to one of the senior troopers within the legion — those still alive. However, times had changed, and very few capable and experienced officers were left at this point, so there would be no argument over who was now appointed the command.
“Tomorrow,” Paullus continued, “the Senate will appoint Fabius Maximus as dictator.”
“Really?” Gaius asked surprised. He knew that politically a dictator was only appointed in the most extreme of crisis, and even then, it was very rare.
“Yes. It will fall to him to begin a new campaign and try, somehow, someway, to win this war. At least, those fools in the Senate won’t be able to undermine him, and with no consul, including me to second guess him, perhaps we may survive this after all.”
Paullus put his goblet down and leaned in closer towards Gaius. A big smile appeared on his face as she stared at the young general. “However, I did not bring you here to fill you in on dreary politics or current events, Gaius.”
“Oh? Then why did you summon me?”
Paullus stood up to his feet even though it seemed to cause him some pain.
“You saved my life that day when it would have been easier to ignore what you had discovered.”
“Consul,” Gaius said as he shook his head. “It was not just I, and really it was nothing.”
“Oh? Saving my life was nothing?” Paullus asked amused.
“That was not what I meant,” Gaius replied nervously.
Paullus laughed.
“I meant; I did what was required of me, as a Roman, a soldier and an officer of the Republic.”
“Please, Gaius. I know more than a handful of men that wouldn’t have tried what you, and your men did. You should have left us to our fate and returned to Rome. You exposed your men to uncertain dangers, and perhaps even put the whole Sixth at risk. Hannibal could have arrived at Rome’s walls before you had, or there could have had been a larger force in the camp…There was any number of if's and buts that could have gone wrong. However, you acted quickly and without thought to your own safety. I don’t think many men could have done as much, least of all without thought to the reward you w
ould be given by saving a consul of Rome.”
Gaius wanted to say more, deny what Paullus was saying that he believed more men, all men, all good Romans would have had done the same. He saved his arguments and allowed Paullus to continue.
“But since you did save a consul of Rome, you should be rewarded. I would like to offer it myself. Name it, anything, and it shall be yours, Gaius.”
“Consul, you’ve already granted me the Sixth Legion. What more could I ask of you?”
“Those were Valerius’ wishes. And frankly, there is no one else that could command the Sixth at this point. Regardless, I would request that you ask for something, anything that your heart desires.”
Gaius glanced over at Claudia. She stood near the far corner, a big smile on her face as she listened, seemly sensing his uneasiness.
“Your friendship would be all that I ask,” Gaius stated.
“Bah! That is already yours,” Paullus replied as he sat back down and stared at Gaius for a long while. Clearly, he wasn’t going to let him leave his house until he made an honest request.
After a long moment of silence, Gaius actually laughed as an amusing thought crossed his mind. Paullus smiled and ask, “What is so comical?"
Gaius shook his head as he remembered the first story that Valerius had told him many years ago.
“Nothing important, sir only that my father, a very long time ago found himself in this same predicament when he stood before a superior officer who said he would grant him anything he wished.”
“Oh? And did that officer do such?” Paullus asked.
“Yes, yes he did.”
“And may I ask what that was?”
“My father asked for my mother.”
Paullus looked confused as Gaius elaborated on the memory.
“She was a slave and property of the camp prefect. My father and she had falling in love prior, and he wanted to marry her. Of course, the prefect was not too keen on letting her go, but he felt compelled to comply, nonetheless.”
“Well, I do hope that you don’t ask for Claudia. I would have issues parting with her. I do not think I could get dressed in the morning without her there to help me figure out which arm to put through my tunic first,” Paullus chuckled, which caused Gaius to glance over at her. He saw that she was blushing.
He noted that she would have been a fine prize, and if he asked, Paullus probably would give her over to him. Even so, at the moment, as he had told the brief story about his father, Gaius knew what he had to ask for. It was the only thing in the world that he truly wanted. He knew, however, that his words were about to cause a great deal of pain to the man who sat across from him, and that scared him a great deal. Not because he feared what Paullus might do or say, but that he actually liked the man, a great deal and the thought of hurting him pained him greatly.
“Consul,” Gaius’ voice grew serious as he stared back at Paullus. “You ask what I want — what you want to reward me for my services. Then, I ask only one thing.”
“Ask and it shall be yours?” Paullus said enthusiastically.
“I want you to release Julia of her marriage vows.”
Paullus’ expression changed suddenly. He was no longer excited at the prospect of Gaius’ request as he looked at him for a long while, not saying a word, almost as if he had not heard what Gaius had asked for.
“What do you mean?” Paullus stuttered.
“Varro, her father is dead. The political and financial gain you would have attained no longer has meaning.”
Paullus stood to his feet and stepped away from his chair. His back was to Gaius as he placed his hand to his forehead, seemly lost for words.
“You asked me what I desire the most, consul. It is she. I love her, and I always have,” Gaius added, now standing to his own feet. He felt like he had dug himself a hole that he could not get out of. However, he had said what he needed to say.
“And she loves you, I suppose?” Paullus asked, not facing Gaius. His words sounded cold and bitter, almost to the point of rage.
“She does,” Gaius answered truthfully.
“Have you shared her bed?” Paullus asked, his words becoming colder.
“Sir?” Gaius was hesitant to answer.
“Answer me!” Paullus cried out as he turned sharply and faced Gaius.
“We have.”
Gaius felt sick, suddenly, when he watched Paullus expression of frustration and anger change before his eyes. He seemed weaker and sad by this realization as he stepped further away from Gaius.
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, aristocr
atic 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.
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