“What news, Fabius?” Titus asked the tribune as he climbed onto the platform. A second pillar of smoke had added itself to the first, inside the city.
“I fear it’s the worst, Caesar,” replied the thin, hook-nosed tribune in reply.
“Gods!” Titus shouted. “The idiot has destroyed the city!”
“I fear so, Caesar. From what we can see here the place is over-run,” a staff officer spoke up.
Neither of his superiors acknowledged the man, in fact the guard thought he saw a look of distain on the face of Tribune Fabius. Even in times like this, he thought, big men play at politics. In all his years in the legion, one thing had remained constant, powerful men were incapable of putting aside differences to get a job done. It always turned into a competition with chest beating and dick waving. There were men in his own unit that he couldn’t stand but he still knew how to fight next to them. They learned to trust each other with their lives.
Titus rubbed his face with both hands, “Idiot!” he shouted again. “I am open to suggestions now,” the emperor said, turning to everyone on the platform, in turn.
“I see no choice, Caesar. We mobilise the men, take on the undead outside the walls before we move on the city. With the place in chaos, I see no reason that a team of men couldn’t enter the city and get that gate open,” Tribune Fabius said.
The staff officer spoke again, this time every eye was on him. “Sir, I hate to be the one to suggest it, but should we consider leaving the city and moving away? We could even come back in a week or two and take Rome more easily.”
Titus was still for a moment. Everyone on the platform seemed to be holding their breath. The guard did his best to keep his eyes to the city but curiosity got the better of him.
Titus lunged forward and grabbed the officer by his tunic. He pushed the man to the edge of the platform and forced him backward so that his back bent over the railing and he was dangling out over the drop beyond. The officer flailed with his arms, desperate to regain his balance but not daring to put his hands on his emperor.
“Tell me again that you want me to desert every person in Rome. Tell me that you think I should desert our capital city and all of the people in it,” Titus spat into the officer's face.
“Caesar, I..I was...” It was all the man could manage in the face of such a barrage of hatred.
Titus leaned over the officer, a line of spittle dangling from his bottom lip. “I will take the city back, it is mine.” Almost as an afterthought he added, “I will not desert the people of Rome.” The spittle dropped and landed on the officer's cheek. “Give me one good reason why I should not let you drop, right now?” Titus asked in a quieter voice.
“Caesar. I’m sorry,” The officer managed to say. Titus calmed his anger slightly, he pulled the officer back onto the platform and turned to the rest of the men.
“I will hear no more cowardice, we will take that city. Otho is the man who lost it, I will not be remembered by history as the man who stood by and let it happen. Prepare the men, we move against the Risen at the bottom of the wall, at first light.” He turned to Fabius. “Tribune, prepare a team of men, your choice. I want that gate open the moment we are ready for it.”
The Tribune saluted and made his way down the ladder without another word. Titus turned to the remaining men. “You have your orders, I expect every man ready to move at first light.” He caught the eye of the officer that he had threatened. “I expect every man to show me, once more, what he is made of.” The message was clear, this is your last chance.
The officers climbed down from the platform. Titus remained on the platform, looking out over the city.
“What do you think? Is the city worth saving?” the emperor asked.
It took the guard a moment to realise that the question was directed at him. He gave an answer that had been bred into him from the first day he had joined the legions.
“On your orders, sir.”
“Enough of that. I know you men aren’t like those preening girls that were just here. If you tell anyone I just said that, I will be upset,” the emperor said, in a moment so honest that it disarmed the legionary and left him open. “I want to hear what you think. If we attack that city then a lot of the men will die. Is it worth it?”
“Caesar, I never expected to live long enough to retire from the legions. I always knew I’d buy an arrow or meet a barbarian, bigger and faster than me. I’d rather die here, defending Rome, than on some field in Greece or Gaul.” He looked to Titus to see if his answer was good enough. The emperor said nothing and the expression on his face invited the legionary to speak further. “Most of us have never been to Rome. We weren’t born here, we don’t think of those buildings when we talk of fighting for Rome. We think of you and your father before you. We think of those people in there. We think of Rome as something worth dying for. It’s what we do, we die so that Rome can get stronger, so that Rome can carry on. It’s built on the blood of my brothers and we can rebuild it the same way.” The legionary was almost shocked at how much he had said. He was so used to keeping his mouth shut around men like Titus that he hadn’t even realised what he was about to say until it was surprised out of his mouth.
Titus put a hand on the legionaries shoulder, he looked into the man’s eyes. He held his gaze for a moment before he said, “Thank you , Lucas.” With that the emperor backed onto the ladder and was gone from sight.
The guard went back to his duty, watching out over the field and the city beyond. The horses still performed their hypnotic dance of death. In the city, more fires had started. A constant stream of Undead climbed the walls, looking like spiders on a web. He watched the destruction of the greatest city in the world with sickening awe. It was a full ten minutes before he realised the Emperor of Rome had known his name.
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“Run, grandfather! Run!” Lee shouted between hot breaths.
His mother was in front and kept throwing fervent glances behind her. Lee was pulling on his grandfather's arm, dragging the old man along. He was torn between feelings of guilt, that he was treating his grandfather so roughly and fear of the men that were only one turn of a corner behind them. Naoki was doing his best to keep up with his grandson but he was feeling all of his eighty three years as they ran along the streets of Rome.
They had been making their way across the city toward the house of Domitius when the gang of young men had spotted them. Every time Rome had civil unrest it brought gangs of Raptores onto the streets. Men looking for the opportunity to rob, rape or kill with impunity. This time, it seemed, the chance of being killed by the undead was adding to the thrill such gangs were feeling.
Lee and his family had been crossing a small market square when they had caught the attention of the three men who now chased them. It was Handan, Lee’s mother, who had attracted them. They had seen the chance of sport with a beautiful woman and had only been stopped by a Risen attack in the square.
The undead had entered the square from the far side, just in time to cause enough of a distraction that Lee could pull his family out of sight. They had run along the adjoining street and turned up a side alley. It was half way up this passageway that they had heard the cat calls of the raptores behind them. The chase had only seemed to heighten the thug’s desire to get their hands on Handan.
“Quick, in here!” Lee gasped.
There was an open door into the side of a building, it lead into a small storeroom, presumably there was a shop on the other side of the room. They ducked into the room and Naoki closed the door behind them. Lee couldn’t be sure if the raptores had seen them go through the door and he called to his grandfather to ready the blades he carried.
The old man stood to one side of the door, if the raptores entered the building Lee’s grandfather would be hidden by the open door. He held a sword in each hand, to Lee the old man looked completely out of place holding the weapons, and at the same time very
comfortable.
Lee pushed his mother behind some storage crates and ducked down, joining her. They heard the men outside the door, talking to each other. They seemed to have stopped, the door muffled their conversation so that Lee couldn’t hear what they were saying. After a few heated exchanges they heard the running footsteps of the men retreat into the distance.
Lee slipped out from behind the crates and walked toward the door. He held his ear to the wood and listened hard. There was silence from outside and he slowly pulled the door toward him. No one showed himself, so he tentatively stepped into the alleyway. A hand shot out as he stepped through the door, grabbing him by the back of the neck. Lee shouted out in pain and surprise as the rough hand squeezed his neck and pulled him toward one of the raptores.
From further down the alleyway the other two men stepped out and into view, laughing.
“Don’t be stupid, kid. The more you struggle, the more I will have to hurt you,” the man who held Lee said into the boy's ear.
“Eat shit,” Lee answered him. The comment earned him a slap across the ear but in Lee’s opinion it was worth it.
“Call the woman and old man out here, you little runt,” the thug spat in his ear, Lee heard it through the ringing noise the blow had caused. He struggled to get away from the brute but his grip tightened until Lee thought his neck might snap.
“Come out here, or the boy dies!” the thug shouted through the open door. Lee couldn’t see into the darkness beyond but he hoped his mother and grandfather were sensible enough to stay where they were. All three of them were almost certain to die, his mother probably had a lot of suffering in her future before they grew bored of her. At least if they stayed inside they had a small chance of defending that door before they were taken. Men like this would soon give up and move on to easier targets, if they thought they were in danger of coming to harm.
“Stay where you are!” he managed to blurt out before the thug smothered his words with a hand over his mouth and nose. Lee struggled to breath as he heard the man shout.
“I won’t ask again, come out now or I’ll smother this one.”
Lee fought for breath but couldn’t get more than the slightest sip of air. His lungs began to scream from the effort. His mind began to swim and the world started to slip in and out of focus. He grabbed at the hand over his face but the strength had gone out of hands that would never have been strong enough to force the man to let him go. Blackness drifted across his vision and his legs went limp so that all of his weight was on the hand across his face and the arm around his throat. Lee must have blacked out for a moment because when he woke up he was on the floor and there were people talking above him.
His mother and grandfather had come out of the room and Lee opened his eyes to see Handan being dragged away by the three men. She was struggling and looking back at Lee and his grandfather, who was picking himself off the floor and wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.
Lee tried to shout to his mother but nothing but a croaking wheeze came out. Handan jerked her hand out of the grasp of the thug that was leading her away. She managed to run a few steps from her captor and it was this that saved her life. From the end of the alley a number of Risen appeared and were immediately leaping at the three raptores.
The fight was brief but one-sided. The three men already had knives in their hands and two of them managed to actually use them on the undead assailants. One swung his knife backhanded at an undead girl as she leapt at him, he made good contact but the blade pierced the side of her neck. She had been thin in life and when she landed atop him, for a moment he managed to hold her weight. The action left him open to further attack and he went down hard as more and more undead drove into him.
The second and third managed to kill one of the Risen before they died, in turn. One turned his shoulder at the last moment and when the undead attacker leapt at him he rolled him onto the floor. The third raptore was quick with his blade and stuck it through the prone figure's eye socket. It was all they had time for, as the main bulk of the Risen crashed into the two. They rolled onto the floor, sprawling, and were engulfed in a swarm of undead before they could get to their feet.
Handan ran toward her family, panic etched onto her beautiful face. Lee pulled himself up onto shaking legs, groggy from the ordeal he had been through.
“Quickly!” he shouted to his mother. Fear filled his heart as he saw his mother, the one person in the world he loved more than he loved himself, in danger. He looked around for a means of escape. The door through which they had just come was still open, he pulled at his grandfather and they moved toward the door. His mother ran with arms pumping, reaching the door at almost exactly the same time as Lee and the old man, they bundled in and slammed it behind them, Lee slid a heavy bolt on the inside. Almost immediately there were heavy thumping noises on the outside of the door.
Lee looked at his family, his grandfather, bloody at the mouth and mother who had the wild look of a cornered animal in her eyes. He had promised them they would make it safely across the city. While they remained behind this door, they were relatively free from danger but they were like rats in a trap. He prayed for salvation.
Chapter Twenty Three
Fabius stared at the walls of Rome and despaired. The death and loss overwhelmed him like the blackest, moonless night. He had been with the legions most of his life, he had seen his share of death but this was another thing altogether. They had fought their way across Italy and a feeling of doom had crept into Fabius’ soul. He had watched the legions destroy a multitude of undead and at first he had rejoiced in their superiority. Soon, however, he had begun to see the Risen, not as creatures to be hated, but as the unfortunate dead. Each undead they faced had once been a person, so much loss, so much death. It ate at him until he could no longer take the despair.
An uncountable horde of undead faces crashed into the legions, bringing with it death and destruction. He could take no more, better to die than live in this world, brought low by such evil. Where was the honour in this? Winning back Rome? It meant nothing when faced with the unspeakable evil that was consuming the world. Humanity was lost, every death bore only more of the same. Each bite just a forerunner of more to come.
“Tribune, I want that gate open, now,” Titus called to his senior officer from behind the ranked legions. The battle had been raging for over three hours, the sea of undead had been thinned but it was seemingly endless. He was experiencing a phenomenon that Vitus and others could have warned him about, had they been there to ask.
Every time a Risen died another took its place, all down the line the undead moved in the same direction as the creature in front. The direction of movement was always toward the most obvious prey. Meaning that, as the undead around the battle with Titus’ men died, they were replaced by Risen from further around the wall. This was happening all the way around the city. At the furthest point to where Titus was engaging the horde, the wall was almost free of Risen. He was acting as a magnet as each Risen was followed into the fight by the one behind.
It meant that despite huge losses on both sides, the undead army was actually bigger than it had been before the battle had begun.
“Sir, we’ve had signals from the gate, there are a large number of people behind the gate, they are trying to get out.”
“I don’t care, Fabius, I have to get my men into the city,” Titus replied, almost shouting to be heard over the noise of the battle.
“Sir, they are endless,” Tribune Fabius said to his emperor. “If we open the gate now, we will allow thousands of undead into the city.”
“I know what will happen, Fabius. I don’t like it either but the simple fact is that if we do not get inside the city now, then it will be destroyed before we do.”
The decision was a hard one but Titus saw it as one that had to be made. His men were dying out here on the battlefield, the enemy was relentless. Sheer tiredness would eventually destroy his army. Every time his men killed one, two m
ore took its place, it seemed. They would stand a much better chance in the city. Splitting his men into centuries and having them fight a split force seemed the much better idea. The streets and confusion would only serve to help the strategy.
There would be more undead inside the city, of course but Titus felt the fight would be winnable in a way that it would not be out here. There were already a team of men inside the city. They had signalled that the gates and walls had been abandoned. If he could, he would have his men enter via the same route. Of course the more men he sent inside, the more vulnerable the men outside would be, waiting for their turn to take the narrow passage.
One signal to the team at the gate and the legions could fight their way into the city.
“Caesar, I urge you not to do this,” Fabius said to his emperor. A man he had known for nearly two decades and fought beside many times. He had never in that time disagreed with Titus, unless an alternative opinion had been requested of him. He had always been there to carry out Titus’ orders without hesitation but now he found himself unable to do so. He had already come to terms with the idea that this could be his last day, how could anyone look at the force they faced and think otherwise. If he were to die today he would do it with a clear conscience.
“Fabius?” Titus enquired.
“Sir, Titus, please reconsider what you are about to do. You are about to condemn thousands of people to death in order to take back the city. I know how important it is but without those people in there, isn’t it just a collection of buildings? If we let in all those monsters and win out in the end, will we not just be sitting on top of a pile of ash?” Fabius said, watching his Emperor’s face.
“You’re a good man, Fabius,” Titus said after a moment to think. “I owe so much of what I have achieved to you. It was you that brought my legions to me when I had to go into exile.”
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