Dragons and Romans

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Dragons and Romans Page 24

by William David Ellis


  Regulus stared at him a moment and then said, “Am I dreaming?”

  Elijah looked back at him, smiled and answered, “In a fashion, you have developed your sight a bit, boy. You can see things you couldn’t see before because you have seen things you couldn’t see before.”

  Regulus squinted, confused and was about to ask him to repeat himself when Elijah continued. “Doesn’t matter, son, just know you are not the same—neither you nor Miriam. Both of you are a lot more sensitive to the other side of things than you used to be. Which, being interpreted, means you are going to discern things from here on out that you would have never realized before. You will continue to have dreams, both while you are asleep and as you are now, while you are awake. You’re still the commander of that army, Regulus.”

  Regulus frowned. “About that army…” and was about to go into a stern lecture on promises made and kept, when Elijah cut him off saying, “Ask Miriam about it.”

  Regulus looked a little sheepish because he had not spoken to Miriam since the battle ended. It wasn’t a conscious oversight, but it may have been an unconscious one. Elijah shook his head. “You’re a bit slow, aren’t you, son?” Then he continued, “You have got some visitors coming in a few days, and you are going to recognize one of them. When you do, don’t lose your wits. Just be forewarned.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You remember your little conversation with that presumptuous imposter, demi-god Baal?”

  Regulus’ eyes grew large. He sighed... blowing out a long breath. “Yes, you know I do.”

  “Well, you remember you overcame him, right? I hate to be the one to tell you, but if I don’t who will? I am being rhetorical at the moment trying to soften the news. You realize that Romans can be evil too, do you not?” This time, Elijah waited for the answer.

  Regulus continued his sighing, wondering if he would ever be through with the struggle.

  Elijah answered his stray thoughts, “No son, not in this life. But it doesn’t mean there won’t be moments of joy. And some of those are just around the corner, if you don’t sit on your hands and let her slip away. But, back to my original conversation, you do know your kindred are just as susceptible to evil and its influence as anybody. That being the case, you shouldn’t be surprised when you see your visitors from Rome escorted and influenced by a familiar face.”

  Regulus frowned. “Baal! Are you talking about Baal? What am I supposed to do about that?”

  “Well, that is why I am here. Baal is influencing your Romans to enslave all the people of Carthage, both those who were Rome’s enemies, and those who were not. I am here to ensure that those who were robbed of their children are not robbed again. I told you the last time we talked to separate the people who were forced to offer their children on Baal’s burning altar from those who did the forcing. It’s time to follow through on that. I want you to get Han Xing and Decemus and a few others and do whatever you have to do to get those parents and their remaining people to safety. And if I were you, I would start immediately. I will throw a few winds in the way of the ship with Baal’s entourage—been known to do that on occasion—and buy you some time. But don’t waste it. Get those people to a safe place where they can start over, and where Baal’s enslavement can’t follow them.”

  Regulus scratched his chin thoughtfully. “You have a place in mind?”

  “Glad you asked that, son. Have them travel west of here, right into Numidia. I will direct them from there. But just so you know, they have a little ocean travel ahead of them, so who knows what empire they might raise up. And don’t you worry, your kind won’t have to worry about them. But these people need to be spared.”

  “Yes sir,” Regulus answered. He felt almost like he ought to salute. He had a score of questions and was about to ask when Elijah was suddenly gone. I wonder if I will ever see him again? And then he heard, “Whenever the need arises, Regulus. Whenever you really need me.”

  Regulus smiled, relieved, and called for Sarrius.

  ****

  That same night, Miriam tossed and turned. Her mind flashed in a hundred directions, all of them bound and determined to keep her awake. Her worry list was long and detailed. She was struggling to understand what Regulus could have possibly meant by the phrase, “share bread with me.” She was also frustrated that he had waited so long to follow through on his invitation to talk about her future with his legion. Basically, she was fretting because she felt forgotten. And was fearful that now that the crises was over, she would be dumped back on the common heap of nice but unnecessary people. She had not meant to offend the general by putting off his invitation in order to help Nachum tend to the wounded. There had been so many wounded, and it had taken so long, she hadn’t had time to do anything but work and sleep and watch Issur and then work again. Exhausted, she tried to still her fears, but truth be told, she didn’t know what was going to happen now, and she worried. She sighed and slipped back onto her pillow, slowly feeling her body drift away when she heard… “Miriam?” She opened her eyes and cocked her head to listen. “Miriam, I know you heard me. Wake up.”

  This time she bolted up, Issur stirred, and she patted him to ease him back to sleep. The voice continued, “Miriam?”

  “Yes, Elijah?” she answered cautiously.

  “You know it is, woman, who else could it be? At least, not yet anyway. I need to talk to you.” As the voice continued, Miriam noted a candle in her tent was lit, and the glow shone on the rugged features of the old prophet.

  Elijah looked at her proudly, remembering in that glance other women he had taken under his wing. They were all special, but Miriam was unique. “Do you remember our last conversation?”

  She almost huffed, “Of course, I do,” but was wise enough to know that Elijah was trying to teach her something and answered instead, “I think I know what you mean.”

  “I told you then you would always be homesick for the place you had walked and the things you had seen in the spirit realm. I told you that this world, the one you live in—this is the shadowed world, the poor reflection, the echo if you will, of that one and not the other way around. And that having once walked in that world, this one would also remind you of a gloomy, cold day.”

  A melancholy mood settled into Miriam’s heart. “I remember. I haven’t had time to think much about it yet. But I am sure I will.”

  “Yes, you will. The older you get, the more you will. But I have a solution to some of that grief, and that is really what it is—grief—the loss of something special, substituted by something trying hard, but falling short.”

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “A new mission. A tremendous challenge. It will demand all of you and more, and you will never finish, and even when it’s finally done, you will wonder if you could have done more.”

  Miriam looked at Elijah skeptically. “I don’t know if I want any more missions or challenges or demands. I wake up screaming sometimes now, thanks to my last great adventure.”

  “Hah!” Elijah laughed. “I knew you would be interested. Never doubted for a moment.”

  Miriam continued frowning, and Elijah explained, “Miriam, I wasn’t listening to your words, I was listening to your heart. Your words are a moment or two behind your true intent. They say what your brain concocts to give your heart time to ponder. I was watching the latter. And truth be known, what I am offering is the best I can do. There will still be moments of sadness when you burst into tears because of all you see around you, which you fear you cannot heal, but, daughter, you don’t understand that just your presence, sometimes just your thoughts, and always your prayers, accomplish so much more than you can think or ask. Trust me. It is so, Miriam. And by the way, while we are talking about him, Regulus will come through for you. He is a good man. He is just slow in some things. Doesn’t trust his own judgment or know his own mind. But you will help with that.”

  Miriam blushed and shook her head, then remembered Elijah listened to
her heart and was still.

  “Will I see you again?” she asked suddenly realizing that Elijah was about to depart.

  “Always, Miriam, and even better, you remember the Lion?”

  The question caught her off guard. She blinked and Elijah was gone.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Miriam did not forget Regulus’ invitation to dine, but she began to wonder if he had. She had tactfully and as craftily as she knew asked Sarrius in a roundabout way how Regulus was doing.

  The old tribune immediately knew what she was getting at and teased her, grinning. “I think he is doing well, Domina Miriam. He has been everywhere, attempting to be all things to all people. Seems to be sleeping better too.”

  Miriam ignored his indicting grin. “Hmm... Well, that’s good. Thank you for telling me, Tribune Sarrius. I was just a little worried. But it’s probably better that he doesn’t need me. No crises, no war, no horrible attacks in his dreams. Yes, that is good.” Then she walked away, back to her hospital duties.

  Sarrius noted her shoulders sagged and her step was a little slower, the old soldier immediately felt guilty about his teasing. He decided the best way to amend the situation was to mention to the commander that, although he was the head of the army and was very secure in that position, the heart of the army was in danger of slipping away.

  ****

  Regulus was drowning in all the paperwork that every army required. He threw himself into it, striking away with his stylus like a testudo pushing into its enemy. He knew it was futile. He would never conquer the pile of reports that grew overnight. A battle was less work.

  A legion of scribes was available to help him, and a lot of it was something he could delegate, but for some reason, he felt like he must personally oversee things. He was struggling with a report on the efficiency of the obsidian-tipped projectiles when his bodyguard interrupted. It was a very polite interruption. The soldier just stood there and waited till Regulus noticed him. Since Regulus was looking for an excuse to stop working on the tide of reports, he welcomed the interruption.

  “Yes, Sarrius. What’s the matter?”

  “Well, sir, I was wondering… Hmmm, well...” the old soldier tried again. “I just happened to talk to Domina Miriam the other day, and she asked after your health, sir.”

  Regulus, suspicion seeping from his eyes, stared at Sarrius, a man who had saved him in countless battles and earned the right to speak things Regulus would rather not have heard. The old soldier had seen Regulus through his academy days and his rise through the ranks. He had been the one to whisper in his ear during triumphal processions, “You are just a man.” Even now, in the uncanny way he always had of putting his finger right on the heart of things, he said just the wrong thing at just the right time.

  Regulus squirmed. He knew how to line up formations for battle, and direct siege works, and administrate an entire army, but had never been wise in the ways of the heart. He was a compassionate man, a good man, but also an inexperienced man. He knew a Roman man didn’t have to be compassionate or wise to run a household. He didn’t even have to talk to his wife or spend time with her, if he did not choose to do so. But Regulus also knew he would never be that kind of husband. He didn’t want to be. He also knew he had been avoiding Miriam.

  When he first limped off the battlefield, he was full of adrenaline and willing to initiate the Roman covenant of marriage. But he rested and healed, and in the process realized he had no idea if he could be a good husband or what was required. He knew he had a strong attraction to Miriam as did his whole army, he just didn’t know if it was enough, or how to work his way through feelings he had never had before. So, when Sarrius mentioned Miriam in the tone of voice that Regulus knew only too well meant, General, you need to do something, he didn’t know how to answer.

  Sarrius stood in the tent doorway and waited and waited, and Regulus waited back. Finally, Regulus stumbled out with, “Well that is good, ah, how is she?”

  “She seems a bit sad, sir.”

  Regulus’ protective instincts reared. “What... what do you mean sad, Sarrius?”

  “I mean she was busy, to be sure, but asked about you, and I told her you were extremely busy. And she answered a little strangely, sir.”

  Regulus waited for the old tribune to continue. When he did not, he stared at him like, Okay, go on. Sarrius had Regulus hooked line and sinker, so he gave him a little rope and continued to wait.

  “Sarrius, you have known me twenty years. Do not goad me!” the general barked. Sarrius stood at attention immediately, causing Regulus to feel guilty but not enough to back down. “So, what did she say, soldier?” he asked in a gentler voice.

  Sarrius’ hidden smile slipped into his eyes but never reached his face. “She said it was probably good that you were healthy because when you were, you were not under pressure and therefore didn’t need her. I think she was saying you don’t need a healer when you are well. But honestly, I think it bothered her. It seemed to make her sad. She is an angel, sir, thinking only of you and others. The men love her. She is almost like the healing soul of this army.”

  “I know, Sarrius. I know. She is the heart of the army. I am its head, and you would think the two could cooperate.”

  “Is that what they call it now, sir?” Sarrius asked innocently. Regulus reacted too quickly, casting a scathing glance at his old guard, looking for the faintest hint of ridicule. But the grizzled tribune was a master at the game and passed inspection.

  Just then, Han Xing walked into Regulus’ tent. Regulus did not see the quick look Sarrius gave him or the answering blink the master spy returned. Had he done so, he would have made a frantic retreat.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure, General Xing?” Regulus greeted, relieved to be out from under Sarrius’ assault.

  “Sir, it’s time for our overall troop evaluations. After the battle, we were hurting, dying. The men were forced to do some terrible things. Fighting an enemy army is one thing, but butchering their civilians is another, not to mention dealing with the unnatural aspect of fighting a demonic dragon and then having to blow the entire fort up to win the battle. Now they are struggling in a very vulnerable time. They are remembering their friends. They’ve had enough downtime to go over their actions, and you know as well as I do, that means guilt. Guilt for having made the wrong decisions in the middle of the carnage. Guilt for having lived when others died.”

  Regulus winced listening to Han Xing’s report. The wise chief of staff hurriedly continued, “But basically, I am here to tell you they are getting through it better than I expected. And most of that is because of one person’s activity. And I think that person should be rewarded.”

  “Absolutely, sir.” Regulus nodded, “What can we do for him?”

  “Ask her to dinner, sir.”

  Regulus flinched, looking from Han Xing to Sarrius and back again. He’d been outflanked and outmaneuvered, was now surrounded and knew it. Both his friends stood watching him. Neither man smiled; both men waited. He knew they were right, and they knew he knew they were right.

  Regulus turned away and sighed, then he turned back to his friends, smiled and shook his head. “Fine, I surrender. Go get her.”

  Sarrius didn’t try to hide his laughter this time, and Han Xing simply looked at Regulus, smiled and nodded, then added, “Will there be anything else, sir?”

  This time Regulus laughed and kept on laughing.

  ****

  Sarrius didn’t run to Miriam’s tent. It was beneath his dignity, and besides that, he felt his age and didn’t want to arrive winded. But he didn’t walk, either. He was excited to see these two get together, so when he got to Miriam’s tent, he took a moment to get his tribunal dignity back and then announced himself, “Domina Miriam? Domina Miriam?” No one answered, which troubled Sarrius a little. So, he raised his voice and called again, “Domina Miriam?”

  “Yes!” a frustrated cry returned, “What is it?”

  Sarrius, not expectin
g that kind of a reply, gently called again, “May I come in?”

  “Yes, Tribune Sarrius, come ahead.”

  Sarrius cautiously walked into her quarters and stared intently around, surprised to see Miriam huddled with her baby boy, Issur. “I am sorry, my tent is a mess,” Miriam began, “but Issur is cutting teeth and running a fever, and on top of that, he has a rash. I’ve been up with him all night, and we are both exhausted, except he is still too miserable to sleep. Other than that, how can I help you?”

  Sarrius grimaced and shook his head sympathetically. “Well to be honest, Domina, considering your current state, I don’t think you can. I came to convey General Regulus’ invitation to dine with him tonight.”

  Miriam blinked, sighed and closed her eyes. “Of all the times he could have asked. It had to be tonight. What am I going to do?” she moaned, which caused the little guy to start wailing his lungs out again. She cooed her baby, tried to settle him down, glanced again at Sarrius, and then answered unhappily, “I really can’t leave him tonight, Sarrius. I do hope General Regulus understands, but I am the only one who can comfort him, and he is miserable. Please send him my regrets and say that any other time, I would be delighted.”

  “I understand, Domina Miriam. I will convey the message. I do hope he gets better soon.” And Sarrius left the tent.

  ****

  Miriam felt as miserable as Issur. His teeth and bottom hurt, and her heart ached. The general finally got back to her, asking her to dinner. He probably wanted to tell her about the position for her in his army’s entourage, and she couldn’t go. What a miserable situation! She had labored, healing and serving the poor soldiers until she could barely stand. She had spent as much time as she could with her baby boy, who was becoming very familiar with the Roman optios that helped her look after him. And then the child fell sick. It wasn’t a terrible illness—nothing that time, and a mother, couldn’t heal.

 

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