“Any assistance is better than none at all.”
“We shall see if you still feel that way in a few moments.” Alexandra sat in the chair beside Marcus, facing the pool of water in the middle of the room. Closing her eyes, she reached down and began swirling the water with her right hand. At first this motion produced only a small whirlpool, but it soon spread outward until the whole pool was nothing more than a rollicking mass of rapidly swirling water. As the water spun more and more quickly, Alexandra’s body began to shake and shudder violently. As she was wracked with spasms, Alexandra spoke in a deep, otherworldly voice. “From the pits of pain the warrior arises, locked in conflict with shades and shadows. The path before him is a crossroad, with death awaiting at every turn. He shall be judged eternally for his actions in this moment.” As she uttered the last prophetic words, she slumped backward in her chair, breathing laboriously. The pool’s water ceased whirling, smoothing over once again.
“Is she well?” Marcus asked Domitian, obviously more concerned for Alexandra’s welfare than with his prophesy.
“Oh, yes,” Domitian said with a slight chuckle. “She will be fine. Speaking with our divine Lord Mars is quite taxing, you understand. I believe the most pressing question right now is whether her guidance has helped you. Has it?”
“I…well, yes. It was terribly vague, but her guidance has provided me with sufficient impetus to come to a final decision.”
“And what is that?”
“I will join you in overthrowing Julianus Vestatian. Together we will cut a bloody swathe through the Sicambrii hordes and restore the rightful Roman rule to our province. Though I am loathe to lift a finger in support of Antonius Ceresius, I shall do what is required.”
“I’m glad that you’ve come to your senses,” Domitian said. “Wait here for a moment.” He stood up, walked to the door, and left the room, returning moments later carrying a wooden box under his arm. Presenting the box to Marcus with a flourish, he pulled the lid off to reveal a beautifully crafted and very familiar sword stored inside.
“Is that…” Marcus’ voice trailed off in amazement.
“Yes, it is. Marcus Ulpius, allow me the privilege of presenting you with the sword which served you faithfully for many years in the Imperial Legions. We have saved it for you, in the hopes that it may serve you just as well in the days to come.”
Cautiously and with an almost reverentially delicate touch, Marcus picked up the sheathed weapon in both hands. As his fingers grasped the hilt of the weapon, he felt as though he had been thrown back in time. The sound of heavy boots marching in time echoed in his head, followed by the memories of marching cadences. Turning it over in his hands, he smiled fondly at the memories the blade evoked. Although it had been many months since he had last seen the weapon, he was still intimately familiar with its every detail. His fingertips grazed over a dent in the sheath which had been left by an Egyptian soldier’s sword nearly a decade previously. “So many scars,” he whispered. “And now it’s time to add a few more.”
“Scars are good,” said Alexandra as she staggered to her feet. “They add character.”
Taking his eyes off his sword only long enough to confirm that Alexandra was sufficiently recovered to stand confidently, Marcus smiled grimly. “Perhaps it is as you say. Yes, perhaps. I hope you realize that we will all have accumulated a great deal of ‘character’ before this is all over.”
“I’ve never known you to shy away from a few scars,” Domitian said, clapping Marcus on the shoulder.
Marcus stepped away from Domitian silently, gazing up at a mural of Mars which towered over him. With one blazingly fast motion he drew his sword from the scabbard in a military salute, then dropped to one knee and proffered the sword to the image of Mars. Domitian and Alexandra exchanged quizzical looks, but Marcus quickly laid their unasked questions to rest when he spoke. “Before you, most holy Mars, and all the mighty Olympian assembly, and in the presence of these two witnesses I make this vow, foreswearing all others: I shall carve a bloody path through those who have usurped the rightful rule of this province. No trial or tribulation, no matter how great, shall stop me from restoring the proper governance of this land. Above all, this I swear: for every drop of innocent blood which has been spilled, I shall repay that drop with a bucketful torn from the hearts of those enemies who would rise up against me!”
As the last words of Marcus’ vow faded into silence, Domitian and Alexandra shared an approving nod.
“Come,” Domitian said to Marcus, “let us depart. Daylight will soon be upon us, and we have a great deal of preparation to undertake. Alexandra, there shall be another meeting tomorrow evening. I will have Vito contact you with the details.”
Chapter V
The next evening, Marcus arrived at the meeting room nearly half an hour before the meeting was to start. Domitian and Vito were already there, pouring over a stack of documents and what appeared to be maps of the city jail. His arrival must have startled the men, for as he opened the door Vito made a swift attempt to cover up the papers and Domitian reached for his sword. Seeing that the newcomer was one of their own, however, they relaxed and greeted him.
“Forgive our reaction,” Domitian said with a nervous laugh.. “We were not expecting you to arrive so early.”
“Do not worry,” Marcus said with a laugh. “There was no harm done. If anything, it is I who should be apologizing to you for breaking your concentration.”
“We were just confirming some last minute details,” Domitian said. “Nothing of any great consequence. I see you have wasted no time in donning your weaponry.”
Grinning, Marcus glanced down at his belt. Domitian was right; he had wasted no time in girding both his sword and the ornately designed dagger to his belt. “Indeed. Just like old times, eh?”
“Not entirely,” Domitian shook his head sadly. “Weapons are forbidden in the city, save for those used by the Sicambrii and city guards. You must be careful to ensure that the authorities do not see you bearing arms or they will be confiscated and you will be arrested.”
“They would try to do so, at any rate. Their results of such an endeavour would not be fruitful.”
“Yes,” Vito scoffed, “we all know what would happen. The streets would be awash in a river of blood. You would ride a wave of corpses to the heights of the governor’s palace and then you would crush Vestatian’s skull in your bare hands. Is that it, or did I leave something out?”
“You left out the part where I call upon the might of Vulcan himself and turn the entire city into a wasteland of ash and charred flesh,” Marcus said with an impish grin.
Vito laughed heartily. “Well, let’s try to keep a low profile for now, shall we? There will be plenty of time for ash, brimstone, and rivers of blood in the days to come.”
The joking between the men was cut short by Alexandra’s arrival. Despite the late hour, Marcus thought, she still looks perfectly composed. It was true, too. Although her work at the temple had undoubtedly kept her extraordinarily busy throughout the daylight hours, her flaring white robe was still immaculate and wrinkle free, and not a single sign of exhaustion marred her beauty. Marcus felt a brief flash of guilt as he realized how attracted he was to the stunningly beautiful Oracle; the guilt was quickly replaced by a stab of grief as thoughts of Lucia's smiling face danced in his head. Shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear away the emotional storm which raged within him, Marcus refocussed his attention on the world around him.
“It seems we have another early arrival,” Domitian said, still smiling. “I trust there was no difficulty getting here?”
“None at all.” Alexandra’s voice was warm and friendly, almost whimsical. ‘My acolyte is sleeping soundly in his chambers, firmly convinced that I am doing likewise.”
“What about guards? No offense, my lady, but I have difficulty understanding how you can make your way through the streets without at least a few chance encounters,” Vito said. Despite the obvious implicat
ion in the question, there was no trace of suspicion or disbelief in his voice.
Alexandra rolled her eyes. “I thought you had an encyclopaedic knowledge of the state of affairs around here, Vito. Surely it hasn’t escaped your attention that once darkness falls, every single one of the Sicambrii run to the nearest bottle? Even amongst our own fellow citizens the standards of the guards have become so lax that most of the sentries are sleeping at their posts.”
There was no argument to be found from Vito. He simply nodded in acknowledgement of the veracity of her response. Before allowing silence to fully descend upon the room, Alexandra turned to Marcus. Glancing down at the weapons which hung from his waist, she smiled. “Hello again, Marcus. It warms my heart to see that you have embraced your ideals with such enthusiasm. I was worried, though I am reluctant to admit it, that you might not have been so eager to do the will of the gods.”
“How could I do any less?” Marcus asked with a bow. “Please allow me to extend my most hearty thanks to you for your guidance. Had I not received it, there is a good possibility that I would have turned my back on those who need me most.”
A soft smile played across Alexandra’s face as she blushingly replied, “I cannot take credit for any guidance you received, but thank you nonetheless.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” a familiar voice said. Marcus, Domitian, Vito, and Alexandra whirled to see Vincenzo standing in a corner of the room. He seemed to regard the foursome with a mixture of bemusement and contempt.
“Vincenzo… I didn’t hear you enter,” Domitian said.
“I would hardly be deserving of my reputation if I had allowed you to hear me stumbling around like a clumsy oaf,” Vincenzo said, shooting a glance at Marcus, “as is the case with some of our number here.”
“Better to walk around boldly, unafraid to face danger head on than to skulk in shadows fearful of making a sound,” Marcus said with a wry smile, “lest your betters dispatch you with ease.”
“Fear of danger? Well that is an ironic accusation coming from one of the most renowned cowards in the entire Roman Empire,” Vincenzo said with a sneer. “And on that note, I see you are toting a pair of blades now. Your consistency is remarkable, but only in its lack of consistency.”
Faster than any eye in the room could track, Marcus very nearly tore his sword from the scabbard, bringing the blade’s tip to bear on Vincenzo’s throat. “Watch your words very carefully, boy! If you do not tread carefully, I shall make your death slow and agonizing. Before I am through with you, you will beg for the merciful release of death, but it shall not come…”
Alexandra stepped forward, mercifully interrupting Marcus’ tirade. Gently placing her hand over his, she slowly guided the weapon away from Vincenzo’s throat. She smiled and stared deeply into his eyes as she spoke. “Do not do this, Marcus. Remember, without unfettered cooperation our venture is doomed to failure.”
Without any sign of hesitation, Marcus gazed down into Alexandra’s eyes, meeting her gaze. Once again, Marcus felt the familiar pang of guilt as an inexplicable attraction pulled him towards Alexandra. “Although I cannot help but question this individual’s motives and purpose,” he said quietly, “you have steered my course well thus far. In this case, then, I shall yield to your will.”
“If you are all done with this spitting contest,” Domitian said, “I will suggest that we all take our seats. There is much planning to be done, and little time to do it in.” Sheathing his sword, Marcus nodded in acknowledgement and took his seat. Alexandra took the seat beside him, and all eyes turned to Domitian.
“Now,” said Domitian, “let us get right down to business. Since the last time we gathered here, several things have changed. First and foremost, we have now secured the full cooperation of all the members of this enclave. This means that we are now able to execute the first phase of our plan for the liberation of our province: we shall free Antonius Ceresius.”
Everybody at the table nodded in agreement except Marcus. Despite his sullen silence, the meeting continued uninterrupted. Vito picked a map of the city up from his pile of documents, spreading it open over the top of the table. Several locations on the map were circled darkly, and Marcus spotted several nearly illegible notations beside the circles.
“It has been brought to my attention that Governor Ceresius is being held in one of the lowest levels of the city prison,” Vito said, pointing at a circled location on the outskirts of the city. “Unfortunately, as I am sure you are all aware, the prison is currently under the sole control of the Sicambrii. Consequently, I have been unable to get any more specific information concerning his location or the strength of the guards watching over him. We will need a very carefully orchestrated plan of attack if we are to have any hope of recovering our target intact.”
“Fortunately,” Domitian said with a grin, “we have just such a plan. It requires great coordination, but I have tremendous faith in all of your abilities.”
“You are making the assumption that he is even still alive,” Marcus said. “That is not an assumption we should make. The Sicambrii have no reason to let him live – and if you believe that Vestatian is eager to keep a potential enemy breathing, then you do not understand the nature of our enemy.”
“He is still alive,” Alexandra said confidently, “though he shall not be for long. We must act quickly – such is the will of Mars.”
“I realize I have no authority to argue with an Oracle,” Marcus said, “but why do we even need Ceresius? It’s not as if his mere presence will grant some mystical impetus to our attempts to liberate this province. Emperor Trajan has granted Vestatian and his band of thugs clemency. In case you’ve forgotten, that means that even if we rescue Ceresius, we will not have the support of Rome!”
“The only reason that the Emperor granted Vestatian clemency was for the sake of convenience,” Domitian said. “He wanted to provide some stability in this province while ensuring that Vestatian did not further encroach on Roman territory. Once Emperor Trajan has completed his glorious conquest of Dacia, he will bring the full might of the Imperial Legions to bear on Vestatian. Imagine the glory which shall be heaped upon us if we liberate the province without the aid of his military might! Whether you like it or not, Marcus, we need Ceresius to do that, as a figurehead, if nothing else. The citizens of this province still see him as our legitimate Governor. With him at our side it shall be much easier to rally the men of the province to respond to our call to arms. He shall be the symbol of everything we stand for, and it is for that reason that we need him.”
Marcus sighed heavily. “Very well. While I do not agree that he is so necessary, there shall be no further opposition from me on the issue of his rescue.”
“That is all we can ask,” Domitian said with a smile. “Vito, please continue.”
“Gladly. As I was saying, Ceresius is being held in the prison here,” Vito gestured to the map again. “We shall infiltrate thusly: Marcus, you will escort Alexandra and Vincenzo into the prison. Domitian and I along with several of my associates will create a diversion here,” Vito pointed to a circle on the map marked with several blocks west of the prison, “to give you three an opportunity to enter the facility while most of the guards are distracted by us.”
“Even if most of the guards are distracted,” Vincenzo interrupted, “the prison will not be abandoned. We cannot simply stroll through the corridors unchecked.”
“Indeed not,” Vito said. “Marcus shall be dressed as a city guard escorting the Oracle through the facility. It is unlikely that any Sicambrii would have the nerve to challenge that story – which is where you come in, Vincenzo. You shall do what you do best: skulk in the shadows, striking down from behind those who would oppose Marcus and Alexandra.”
“So why do we even bother with this sham of a cover story? I can infiltrate more swiftly and silently without needing to worry about protecting unnecessary people. It would be easier if I carry out this mission by myself,” Vincenzo
said.
“With all due respect to you and your abilities,” Domitian said in the most diplomatic voice he could muster, “you cannot do this by yourself. If you are spotted – which is a good possibility when you are escorting Ceresius out of the prison – you will absolutely require the martial strength which Marcus will furnish. Make no mistake - as good as you are with a blade, you cannot even begin to match Marcus’ talents.”
Shooting a dirty look at Marcus, Vincenzo sneered but did not dispute Domitian’s claim. Once he was sure that Vincenzo’s outburst was silenced, Vito continued laying out the plan of attack, handing Marcus a tube filled with several scrolls. “These are floor plans of the lowest levels of the prison. Memorize them, Marcus, and plot out what you believe will be the most efficient path to lead you to wherever Ceresius is being held. Our diversion will only keep the guards occupied for an hour at most – you must infiltrate, find Ceresius, and exfiltrate before that time runs out. You will face overwhelming odds in a head-to-head encounter with the returning guards, and we cannot risk that.”
A bloodthirsty grin spread over Marcus’ face. “I disagree,” he said. “I think that a bloodbath in Vestatian’s seat of provincial power would send a powerful message to the Sicambrii – namely, that following Vestatian will lead to a swift and bloody end.”
“That is one possible message such an action would send,” Vito said contemptuously, “but the more likely message the Sicambrii would receive is that there is opposition to them amongst the citizens – opposition which must be crushed. Not only would open conflict put you at risk, it would risk the lives of every Roman citizen in this city. Perhaps you desire to become a martyr, but I doubt the innocent civilians in this city share that desire.”
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