The thoughts which raced through Marcus' mind were interrupted suddenly. A bolt of lighting shot down from the ceiling with a thundering boom; as the sizzling missile struck the temple floor, it did not fade into nothingness. The brilliant white light hung in the air, gradually shrinking and convalescing into a human form. Gentle pulses of light radiated from the half-formed figure, each pulse bringing the form closer and closer to solidity. Marcus' heart hitched in his chest as the radiant form slowly transformed into an all-too-familiar shape - the unmistakeable form of Alexandra stood in front of him, gazing at Marcus in disbelief. She gaped silently at the scene before her, as if her mind was simply incapable of processing what she saw.
"Marcus," Alexandra said, turning the name over in her mouth as if it were a foreign word, "can this really be you? But where...where are we? I thought you were taken into custody by Julianus Vestatian's goons."
"I was," Marcus said. He stepped closer to Alexandra, carefully examining every detail of her face as if he thought it possible to find some hidden clue there which might unravel the mystery before him. "I mean, I still am in their custody. I cannot explain this, unless it is a dream."
"If it is a dream," Alexandra said with a shy smile, "then it is one which we both share, my love. When you were taken, Domitian and Vito took me to a safehouse. We began to make a plan to rescue you, and I retreated to meditate on the issue, hoping to gain some guidance from Mars. The next thing I knew, I was here.
"Have your captors been treating you with decency, Marcus? I know they are savages, but I have been trying to gain some semblance of comfort from the thought that you are being kept safe in captivity."
"I have been treated as well as can be expected," Marcus said. He considered divulging the full details of his torture to her, but decided against it; if by some chance he was really communicating with her rather than dreaming, it would do nothing but cause her pain for her to learn of his treatment.
"That is a small measure of relief," Alexandra said as she wrapped her arms around Marcus, embracing him tightly. "A very small measure, but it is some relief nonetheless.
"There is some bad news on our end, however. It turns out that Monale is - or rather, was - the one who leaked information about your location to the city guard."
"I trust that he has been dealt with appropriately," Marcus said, returning Alexandra's embrace and clasping her as close to his chest as was humanly possible without harming her.
"He is dead," Alexandra whispered. "Vito killed him."
"I would have expected no less. No more of this talk, however. Who knows how long we will have here together, my beloved wife? We should not waste it with idle chatter."
"Beware that you do not confuse this temple with a Bachannal," a booming voice said from behind Marcus. Whirling around carefully to ensure that Alexandra stayed behind him, Marcus was confronted by a massive man. Standing nearly ten feet tall, the man was a veritable tower of muscle covered in thick plates of iron armour. Behind him stood two other giants, a clubfooted male dressed in the simple garb of a blacksmith and a matronly woman with a warm smile. Despite the shock that came as a natural consequence of seeing such unnaturally large creatures, it took only a second for Marcus to overcome his shock and recognize the beings for what they truly were.
"My Lords Mars and Vulcan," he said as both he and Alexandra dropped to one knee before them, "and Lady Vesta. Forgive me for an ill-phrased remark, for it was not my intent to -"
"Yes, yes, yes," Mars said with a hearty laugh. "I know you meant no offense."
"My Lord," Marcus said, keeping his eyes carefully downcast, "may I ask if this place is truly -"
"Olympus? Yes," Mars said, obviously unconcerned with the social niceties regarding interrupting another who is speaking. "You have found your way to the hallowed home of the Gods - or rather, you have been brought here by our will."
"May I ask what we have done," Marcus said, "to deserve such an honour? I have failed you in your quest for me to vanquish Julianus Vestatian and the Sicambrii from the province of Germania Inferior."
"Nonsense," Mars said. "You haven't failed me - far from it. In fact, you are in a very advantageous position right now."
"I must most humbly disagree," Marcus said. "My Lord, I am captured - beaten and broken, barely able to move."
"True," Mars said with a hint of a smile. "But Julianus Vestatian has crossed a line which no Roman citizen should ever cross. First, he defected from the Empire, making himself a traitor. As if that sin were not great enough, he then enlisted the aid of heathen barbarians to allow him to come to power and crush the innocent Romans beneath his feet. That is all bad enough, but his sins extend further yet. He has forsaken us and given himself over to the worship of the heathen barbarian gods. It is for all these offenses that we chose you to be the vessel of our wrath against this man.
"Now, he has taken his deceit and treason one step further. He has violated the sanctity of a temple. He has made burnt offerings of Roman flesh to the heathen gods. Finally, he has begun making plans to destroy our temples in Germania Inferior and replace them with temples to the heathen barbarian gods. This shall not stand.
"It is for these reasons that we have decided to take somewhat of a more direct interest in your quest. We have decided that our intervention is necessary, for it is time to strike fear into Julianus Vestatian's heart. He thinks himself invincible; it is time to rob him of that delusion."
"I agree wholeheartedly," Marcus said, his eyes still downcast, "but how might I be of further service in this regard, most Divine and Holy Lord of all Battles?"
"First of all," Mars said with a bored sigh, "you can stand up and look me in the eye. Then you can quit referring to me by such ridiculous titles. You have been chosen as our champion, Marcus - you have earned the privilege of calling us by our names.
"As far as how you can strike a little fear into Julianus' heart, it is quite simple. You are going to escape from your unjust bondage and raze the city prison to the ground."
"But how -"
"How will you do it? You'll do it by being quiet for a minute," Mars said, "and letting my colleagues explain the details of our plan to you. Vesta, if you will?"
"Of course," Vesta said with a motherly smile. She stepped forward, offering a plain brass chalice to Marcus. The chalice was obviously designed to be used by humans, and looked ridiculously tiny in Vesta's hands. "Drink this, and your wounds will be healed and some of your strength restored. Unfortunately, it cannot restore you to your ideal fighting form, but it will at least give you a fighting chance."
Taking the chalice from Vesta, Marcus examined the liquid inside. It was entirely unlike anything Marcus had ever seen before - a viscous golden fluid which smelled faintly of honey and wildflowers. He breathed deeply, and then took a careful sip of the drink. The effect was electrifying; a pulse of energy swept through his entire body, calming and easing every muscle in his entire body. He tilted the chalice back, swigging the remaining liquid in the cup in a single draught. Alexandra grabbed hold of Marcus' shoulder, struggling to hold him upright as the effects of the liquid washed over him. The Gods simply watched the scene; Mars remained utterly impassive, but Vesta and Vulcan both seemed slightly bemused.
"Is this heavenly medicine the famed ambrosia, the nectar of the Gods?" Marcus was panting with exertion, struggling with the aid of Alexandra to remain standing. The golden liquid in the chalice had relaxed his entire body so completely that it took almost inhuman effort to even speak.
"Not quite," Vesta said. "Although it is close. It is, in fact, a medicine I have brewed specifically for you, and ambrosia was one of the ingredients involved. Obviously we could not give you ambrosia in its purest form - no matter how strong you are, without divine blood flowing in your veins, the chances of you surviving the consumption of true ambrosia would be slim."
"When you awake," Mars said, "your body will be entirely restored. I'm sure you are asking the obvious question right now
, which is what good healing your body will do when you you are chained on a table in the lowest level of a prison, naked and completely unarmed."
"Marcus," Alexandra said, "you told me that your captors have been treating you well! I would hardly consider being strapped down naked to a table and being beaten an appropriate way of treating a captive."
"Actually," Marcus said, "I never told you that I've been treated well. I said that I was being treated as well as could be expected, given the circumstances. As far as Julianus Vestatian and the city guards are concerned, I am a traitor - most traitors are executed immediately after being captured. I'd say the fact that I'm still alive bodes well, given the sort of treatment most people in my position could expect.
"Besides, from what I've been able to discern from our gracious hosts here, what fate has in store for my captors is far worse than the treatment I have received so far."
"Indeed," Vulcan said, stepping forward to address Marcus and Alexandra, "and that is where I come in. Marcus, you have a tool which will help you accomplish the task we have set before you - a tool which I gave you quite some time ago."
"I'm not sure what you mean," Marcus said with a frown. "Begging your forgiveness, but I've never met you in person before today. I'm sure that meeting the God of the Forge would be an experience I would have a hard time forgetting."
"Don't be so sure." Although Vulcans' mouth moved, it was the voice of an old man which Marcus heard. "Our shapes and voices are not static; they change according to our needs. Sometimes you can share a ride with an old man, and unknowingly be in the company of one of the Gods."
The absolute absurdity of the whole situation suddenly struck Marcus, and he broke into maniacal laughter. Just my bloody luck, he thought. I was sitting in a caravan for days on end with the God of the Forge, for Hades' sake, and I was so absorbed in my own damned guilt and petty self-pity that I didn't realize he was anything more than a babbling old man.
"So when you said that I was still loved by those who truly matter," Marcus managed to say between fits of laughter. Unable to compose himself again, he let the sentence trail off into another burst of laughter.
"I meant that the Gods have been keeping a closer eye on you than you thought," Vulcan said. The mighty God of the Forge didn't seem in the least bit put off by Marcus' uncontrollable laughter; undoubtedly, the ancient deity had witnessed similar scenes countless times before. Indeed, it seemed unlikely that one of the most powerful creatures in the universe would be terribly surprised by any sort of reaction that a mortal had. Shock and surprise certainly were not the sort of reactions that befit supreme beings.
"Truth be told, we - and I mean all of us in Olympus, not just the three of us that you see now - have been keeping an eye on you for your entire life. The three Fates told us when you were born that yours was a destiny that would shape the world, and they were correct. Each of us has taken varying degrees of interest in you as you have progressed through your life. Juno and Vesta watched over you as an infant; Minerva constantly strove to provide subtle care for you as a child, and Bacchus and Venus absolutely loved your teenage years.
"As a young soldier, you garnered the attention of Diana and myself. She was somewhat taken with you; believe me when I say that she doted over you, praising every battle you were involved in, and celebrating every accomplishment. Your distinguished career in Germania Inferior eventually captured the attention even of mighty Jupiter; now, you have the undivided attention of every single one of us. Your role in the fate of the Roman Empire, and the fate of the very world itself, is more important now than it ever has been before."
"I don't understand," Marcus said. "The fate of the world? I know that much of the fate of this province of the Empire depends on me, but surely Julianus Vestatian is not such a great threat to the whole of the Empire, let alone to the entire world."
"You are partially correct," Mars said. "Vestatian is not the greatest threat that the world faces right now. However, the events that he has set in motion already begin to threaten the stability of the world. His success in conquering Germania Inferior has spurred the tribals in other provinces to plan mass revolts of their own; the heathen forces are mostly disparate right now, but it is only a matter of time until the guidance of their inferior deities is able to counsel them to undertake the obvious course of action. A united front from the barbarians means that a serious threat to the safety of the Empire will be formed; Rome itself could be razed to the ground by the beasts."
"Surely you jest," Marcus scoffed. "Barbarians destroy Rome? The very idea is laughable. Rome is invincible!"
"It is just that sort of attitude which will lead to Rome's downfall if you are not careful," Mars said. "And if the barbarians can conquer Rome, who knows how far their influence could reach? If the Roman Empire could be defeated, then no other nation would stand a chance against the barbarians - Egypt, Assyria, Greece...none of these nations would be able to stop a united barbarian advance.
"Your actions to destroy the Sicambrii rule of Germania Inferior must be swift and decisive. Julianus Vestatian is little more than a minor obstacle in the grand scheme of things; if he falls but the Sicambrii still rule the province, nothing will have been acomplished."
"So why bother striking fear into his heart now? If he really is such a minor figure in the grand scheme of things," Marcus asked, "why bother with him? Why not just make my escape and direct our forces to slaughter every Sicambrii man, woman, and child that we can find?"
"He is a minor figure in the grand scheme of things," Mars said, "but for now he is important. The Sicambrii chafe under the rule of a Roman. They view Romans with the same distaste that Romans view them with, and they do not believe that he should hold power. If you strike fear into Julianus Vestatian's heart now, his fear will be apparent to the Sicambrii. They may try to remove him from power, in which case an internal power struggle in the tribe will erupt. Alternatively, they may simply become restless and not quite as eager to obey his orders. Either way, a decisive advantage will be granted to you."
"Fair enough," Marcus said as he contemplated Mars' prophetic words. "But that still leaves me with one major question: how in Hades do I raze the city prison to the ground? Even if I manage to somehow free myself from the manacles which hold me and fight my way through all the guards and escape, bringing down a building of that size and construction is virtually impossible to do without some heavy-duty equipment."
"That is where I come in," Vulcan said with a grin. "And your answer comes in two parts. First, escaping your bonds will be quite simple. It seems that all the manacles have developed some very serious structural problems; it will take very little effort to shatter them into little more than dust. There are some advantages to being complete Lord and Master of all things forged," he added with a wink.
"Razing the building to the ground is also going to be a relatively simple matter - for you, anyway. Mercury is off on an errand right now; he is transferring an item from your domicile into the little black bag of that maggot Luskilos. A gift you received from a certain benevolent deity, if you remember."
"The dagger," Marcus said with a laugh. "I should have known. It has exhibited some odd behaviour when I have used it. I should have suspected that it was truly of divine origin."
"Yes, you should have. However, its advantages go far beyond a small increase in your combat effectiveness. When you leave the prison, plunge the dagger into the wall of the building; don't worry, it will be easier than it sounds. I'll be able to sense when the dagger has embedded itself in stone, and when that happens, I will use it as a focus to channel some of my...less pleasant power."
"By the most holy blessings of all the Gods," Alexandra whispered. "You're not going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?"
"I suspect that I'm going to do exactly what you think I'm going to do," Vulcan said calmly. "Marcus, you're going to want to run as quickly as you can once the dagger is embedded in the wall. You'll have very lit
tle time to escape before the building shakes itself apart. The entire building will be nothing more than a smoking crater."
"What of the surrounding homes? There are innocent Romans living in them who have done nothing to deserve being crushed by falling rock or burned in the ensuing conflagrations," Marcus said.
"Do not worry about them. I will be very precise; the building will be utterly annihilated, along with everyone inside, but the nearby homes and buildings will be fine. Relax, Marcus. If you can't trust the Gods, who can you trust?"
"Now, Marcus," Mars said before Marcus had a chance to reply to Vulcan, "it is time for you to return to the mortal world. You too, Alexandra - and try not to worry about your husband. He is more than capable of doing what we ask in this matter."
Alexandra and Marcus embraced, holding each other tightly. They knew that they needed to savour the moment; this would be the last time they would have a chance to see and touch each other before Marcus was placed in mortal danger. Their loving embrace was the last thing either of them felt in the halls of Mount Olympus before the entire world dissolved around them in a haze of brilliant white light.
***
Marcus returned to consciousness with a gasp; his entire body was wracked with painful spasms. Luskilos was still hovering over the table, watching Marcus intently; he was apparently unaware of Marcus' temporary jaunt to the halls of Mount Olympus.
"...and so I'm sure you'll understand when I move on to burning you why I left that particular treatment until after the acid," Luskilos was still babbling on about the various intricacies of inflicting pain on a human being, utterly oblivious to the fact that the wounds he had already inflicted upon Marcus had already vanished.
With a sudden burst of strength, Marcus lashed out at Luskilos with his right hand; the chain and manacle which bound the arm to the table shattered with ease, breaking into tiny shards of iron which fell to the ground as Marcus snatched Luskilos by the throat. A quick jerking motion from side to side produced a horrific snapping sound from the base of Luskilos' skull; as his spinal cord shattered and severed his brain stem, the torturer's body dropped from Marcus' grip to the floor, as limp as a rag doll.
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