by T. A. Uner
Tullus eyed the silhouette of a woman, her figure outlined against a bright, blinding light.
“Who’s that?” Tullus asked the boy.
“That’s mother,” the boy replied, looking confused, “is something wrong father?”
“Yes, but I cannot see her face; what is her name?” The woman approached Tullus, but he still couldn’t see her face.
“Are you well, father? Is something wrong?” The boy repeated.
“I cannot see her face,” Tullus complained, “please, tell me who she is.” Tullus focused his eyesight on the woman’s face but could not make out her features. Then he felt someone nudge him in the ribs.
Tullus awoke to find Anna staring at him, an anxious glare marring her face. He took a deep breath and exhaled deeply. The boy was not real, he thought.
“You were mumbling in your sleep, love. Did you have a nightmare?” Anna planted a kiss on Tullus’ lips. Her mouth tasted like honey and almost eased his inquietude.
“I dreamt I had a son,” he said sadly.
“Then, why so glum?”
“I don’t know,” he said. Anna’s piercing blue eyes scanned his face.
“So who was the mother?” she asked while rolling on top of him and straddling his chest between her legs. Tullus felt his groin tingle with anticipation. They had made love only a few hours ago, but Anna possessed an inexhaustible sex drive. When he failed to answer her question she grasped his swollen member and stroked it with her nimble fingers.
“So…who was the mother, Tullus?”
“Why? Are you jealous of a dream?”
Anna smiled while Tullus felt a wave of pleasure slowly building up inside him.
“You were dreaming of your Roman woman again…weren’t you?” Anna ceased pleasuring him. Tullus grumbled and rued the day he had mentioned Eliana to Anna. He did not like disclosing his past dealings with women but Anna had been insistent on one occasion. She had asked him all sorts of questions about Eliana: was she beautiful? What type of a family did she come from? Did he love her? Was she a better lover? Tullus had answered all of Anna’s questions except the last, which only served to stoke her jealously.
“I couldn’t even see her face,” Tullus replied as he playfully pushed Anna off of his chest.
“Liar,” Anna said, “you still love her…don’t you?”
Tullus thought of Paullus. His friend still hadn’t returned from his trip to Rome. In the past, Paullus’ supply trips had never exceeded a day. He was now almost two days overdue. “I’m concerned about Paullus,” he said.
“You always seem to change the subject when it suits you.”
“I have a bad feeling Anna.” Tullus rose from his bed and dressed.
Anna, laying naked on the bed, watched him intently. “Come back to bed Tullus, everything will be fine.”
“I must go now–to clear my head.”
Anna pulled the covers over her breasts and scoffed. “So basically you’ve had your hump and you’re leaving…am I right?”
“Don’t start with me now woman.”
“We never spend enough time together–our relationship shouldn’t only be about sex.”
“I will see you at breakfast.”
“Fine, piss off. Go to your precious Leopardess.”
“Is that it? You’re jealous of Celestra? You are unreal sometimes.” Anna threw a pillow at Tullus who ducked as it flew over him and bounced against the side of the tent. Tullus left before saying something he would later regret.
“All men are swine,” Anna yelled.
Tullus shook his head in dismay. Tullus felt women were as much a mystery as the universe itself. Only the Gods knew their reasons for creating them that way. But he still didn’t understand Anna’s demeanor despite being with her for almost two months. It was obvious that Anna was much different than Eliana: his Roman love had a refined feminine grace, the result of her privileged upbringing. When they made love it was often tender and slow: as they both took time exploring one another’s bodies to the fullest extent. With Anna it was different: the lovemaking was passionate and full of raw desire. At times it felt like wrestling a lioness. One time, after Tullus’ performance, they had made love under the pavilion benches. It was Anna’s idea, and at the time he had found it exciting. At least until had Celestra found them and growled at their foolery. Outside the air was humid as he made his way toward the center of the camp where a few freedmen had gathered around a fire drinking mulled mead. A yellow moon stood transfixed in the sky while darkness painted the heavens. A few of the men called out to him and invited him over, but Tullus politely declined their offer, instead heading for his tent. There he found Celestra curled up in front of the entrance of his tent. When she saw Tullus she rose and ambled over toward him. He smiled and scratched the back of her spotted head.
“Missed me, have you girl?” Tullus said. She responded by fiercely licking his face. He hugged her before entering the tent. Inside, he looked at himself in the mirror resting on top of his desk and noticed his tired, pallid face staring back at him. I must eat more, he thought. Not able to sleep, Tullus rummaged through the rolls of Fortis I spells on his desk and read through one of the incantations. A warning was written at the bottom of the roll. It cautioned the user against mixing emotion with Elemence–the instructions explicated the importance of utilizing pure thought. The spell was labeled Contego, it was designed to create a powerful defensive shield. Disregarding the warning he took a deep breath and channeled his anger toward Anna into the spell. He felt stronger as Celestra looked at him and growled, the stars in her eyes glowing like embers.
He raised his hands and muttered the spell code before tendrils of light blue energy waves emerged from his finger tips. They shot out from his hands and split his mirror into shards of oblivion, sending jagged pieces of glass everywhere. The aftershock from the spell blew Tullus backwards as he crashed into the side of his tent. Celestra took cover under a blanket and growled at him before she looked at Tullus confusedly and shook her head in dismay.
After the spell wore off he felt a chill ripple through his body while his limbs ached. Tullus picked himself up and walked to his bed before removing his sandals. Celestra crawled up on his bed and curled up next to him.
“I bet you wish you also knew where Paullus was, right girl?” Tullus said before drifting off to sleep. The loud noises outside his tent woke Tullus. His eyes opened slowly and glimpsed the teardrop flame flickering inside his oil lamp that hung from the roof of his tent. Tullus lifted his aching body from the bed and yawned while Celestra emitted a guttural sound and hopped off the bed.
“Let’s see what is happening outside,” Tullus said before they left the tent. The diamond stars flickered across a stygian sky as Tullus and Celestra made their way toward the center of the camp. A crowd of people had gathered around a horse-drawn cart. One of the freedmen caught a glimpse of Tullus and ran toward him carrying a flickering torch.
“What is going on?”
“Please come sir, Paullus is asking for you,” the freedman said.
Tullus followed him and threaded his way through the crowd. Vulcan and Masego were sitting inside the cart. Behind them a young boy looked on with a concerned expression. As Tullus approached his friends he saw them hunched over Paullus’ body. The old man’s tunic was drenched in blood, his face sallow.
“Paullus?”
Vulcan and Masego looked up at him. Tullus could see the concern in both men’s eyes.
“This boy brought him in the cart only moments ago,” Vulcan said. “He’s been asking for you Tullus.”
Tullus climbed up on the bed of the cart while the boy stepped aside to make room for him. Masego gently lifted Paullus’ head and the old man’s eyes flickered opened. “Tullus, my noble Roman, I’m afraid that I won’t live to see your next performance.”
Tullus smiled at his old friend. “Don’t speak like that now,” he said as he held Paullus’ cold hand before turning toward Masego. “Did
you call Gansu? We need his medical knowledge.”
“He’s been summoned.”
Moments later Gansu appeared. He was dressed in a black silk robe with a red sash tied around his waist, a Mandarin hat atop his head. Anna appeared behind him and peered over his shoulder, her eyes darting back and forth from Gansu to Paullus.
“Can you save him?” Anna asked. Tullus spotted the tears welling up in her eyes.
Gansu remained silent and inspected the wound while Paullus emitted a painful groan. Gansu’s solemn look told Tullus everything he needed to know. “The wound has festered,” he said. “He should never have travelled in this condition.”
“There must be something you can do for him,” Tullus said, “one of your potions. Anything.”
“I can ease his pain but I cannot change what fate has already decided,” Gansu said sadly. He drew a small vial from inside his robe and undid the stopper before gently feeding Paullus a few drops of green liquid. Paullus coughed, causing the liquid to drip down his bottom lip. He slowly raised his arm and motioned for Tullus to come closer. Tullus took Paullus’ arm and placed it back on his chest. “Save your strength Paullus. But you must tell me who did this to you.”
“Tullus,” Paullus said, “you must not let my death stain your future. Your path ahead will be filled with many challenges and also many rewards. Continue your breathing exercises with Gansu, read the Fortis I rolls and try to make sense of them.”
Paullus took Tullus’ hand and squeezed it with surprising strength. “Everyone, come closer and give me your hands,” he said. Anna, Vulcan, Gansu and Masego huddled closer and extended their palms toward the spot where Paullus held Tullus’ hand. “Place your hands on top of Tullus’.” After they complied Paullus smiled. “From this day forward Tullus will lead the Troupe. Make sure you show him the same respect you always honored me with.” They all nodded.
Paullus lifted his head and gasped. “Now, you are the leader,” he told Tullus, “never forget the ultimate rule: always do what is best for the Troupe.”Tullus nodded. “I will.”
“Good,” Paullus said. “There’s one more thing you must know.” The old man was seized by a fit of coughing and his grip on Tullus’ hand tightened. The coughing subsided enough for Paullus to force a few words from his mouth: “The gold…I must…tell you where it is located.” Paullus’ eyes widened and rolled back into their sockets. “Also…there…is…something…else…you…must…know.” But before Paullus could finish his sentence his grip on Tullus’ hand loosened. For a moment everyone remained silent except for Anna’s sobbing. Tullus had never seen her cry before and he felt a foreboding cold descend upon him while he muttered a silent prayer to Pietas–the goddess of duty–to give him the strength to find those responsible for Paullus’ death.
{II}
The next day everyone in the Troupe gathered around the wooden funeral pyre to pay their last respects to Paullus Gabinius. Behind Tullus, Renfrus’ wife, Matildus, sobbed uncontrollably.
Vulcan, Masego and the Freedmen had spent the entire night building the pyre. Much to their credit they managed to fashion one worthy enough for a man they looked upon as a father. A large wooden table sat within a four-columned platform structure that resembled a poster bed. Gansu and the young boy who brought Paullus had spent the night cleaning up the bloodied remains of their friend and wrapped Paullus’ body in a white linen cloth. After Masego carried Paullus’ body to the pyre, he gently laid Paullus on top of a wooden table. Vulcan emerged from his forge, torch in his hand, and the crowd parted until he stood next to Tullus and Celestra. The large German handed the torch to Tullus, who walked toward the pyre and climbed the wooden steps until he reached the table where Paullus’ body lay. Underneath the table, a pile of wooden branches and twigs were placed to feed the flames that would engulf Paullus’ remains. Tullus wondered where Paullus’ spirit would go. Wherever it was destined to exist he hoped it would be a good place. Taking one final look at Paullus, Tullus dipped the torch’s flames until they licked the assorted pile of wood under the table. He stepped back and watched as the wood fed the flames which slowly spread within the cluster of branches underneath the table. Black streams of smoke rose from the flames before Tullus descended the steps. Celestra looked up at him and nuzzled her head against his leg and Tullus wondered if Incantra felt the same type of sorrow that humans did when they lost someone they loved. It was possible, since their intelligence rivaled humans. Everyone stared at the pyre as the flames grew higher and higher. The flames licking the pyre’s four wooden columns until only the crimson and yellow flames remained below the transparent fumes that rose from the fire. They engulfed Paullus–carrying him away from the company of his loved ones, toward a destination called eternity. The next few days Tullus stayed out of sight. That way he didn’t have the face the reality that Paullus was dead. Even Celestra was taciturn. Especially during mealtimes, as her hearty appetite had abandoned her. Paullus couldn’t blame her; food seemed a trivial thought these days and failed to offer a sense of enjoyment it once used to. He found himself staring at the mangled parchment Vulcan had given him. The German had found it inside Paullus’ tunic. Tullus studied the Scorpion emblem in the center of the parchment, caked with dried blood. What could it mean? Did it have something to do with the hidden gold Paullus was muttering about before he died?
On the fourth day after the funeral Anna came to his tent. The pallid look that adorned her face during the funeral was gone and her sprightly demeanor had returned. Tullus was unmoved, and wondered how she had collected her composure so quickly. Standing in front of the tent’s entrance with her hands on her hips Anna said: “Tullus Acilius Ulixes. By all that is sacred, what are you doing?”
Tullus’ unshaven face looked up at her from his bed. He stroked the back of Celestra’s neck as she lay curled up next to him.
“There’s nothing sacred about me Anna,” Tullus said, “except for the pain and suffering I shall bring to Paullus’ killers.” Celestra raised her head and growled in agreement before Anna walked up to them and tugged on Tullus’ foot. Celestra growled at Anna and leapt off the bed, taking refuge under it.
“You can’t sit here forever and hide from life Tullus.”
“What life?” Tullus lifted himself from his bed. “It seems that everyone I ever love dies or disappears. First my parents, then, my brother, now Paullus.” He rose from his spot, swung his feet over the side of his bed and buried his face in his palms while Celestra’s spotted head emerged from under the bed. She licked his foot. Tullus scratched her head before she slid out from her spot while Anna sat down next to him and put her arm around his shoulder.
“You told me that you lost your parents to the Gauls but I didn’t know you had a brother,” she said softly as Celestra looked on.
Tullus rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Few people do, only one other man knows of my brother’s disappearance: my friend Decimus.”
“Tell me,” she said.
Tullus sighed. “A day before the Gauls attacked my family’s winery; my mother had given birth to another son. When it became apparent that our home would soon be overrun by the invaders, my mother, still weak from childbirth, entrusted my brother to me. I still cannot forget the sorrow in her eyes as she knew she would be parted from both me and her new baby–she didn’t even have time to name him.” Tullus paused a few moments before Anna rubbed his back and Celestra emitted a soft mewl.
“My father ordered me to take the baby and hide in the woods, which I did. From there I could hear the Gauls ransacking my home. I was only fifteen, but I wanted to fight, and defend my land. Despite my fears and the realization that I could be killed, I hid my brother in a thicket of bushes and slowly made my way back to my home. It was worse than I could’ve imagined. My young eyes had never viewed so much death and destruction. The vineyards had been overrun, fences battered and livestock butchered as flies danced above their carcasses. All of my father’s workers had been slaughtered. I can still smell
their blood, even today. But inside my house was the worst sight, as I beheld the butchered remains of my parents.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“When I returned to the woods to find my brother he wasn’t there. I searched but couldn’t locate him. Later, Decimus’ cohort found me, and conducted an extensive search, but they also failed to locate the child. Afterwards, we buried my parents and our freedmen and I began my training to become a soldier. But to this day I still live with the pain of not knowing where my brother is. Was he stolen by a fox? Forest dweller? Or did the Gauls find and kill him too? That massacre happened twenty-one years ago but it still feels like yesterday.”
Tullus stood up and approached the small closet where he kept a special blend of wine Paullus had given to him as a gift. He swallowed a mouthful. “Now with Paullus dead it feels as if I have lost my parents…again.”
“You still have me and the others.”
“Aye. I do. But Paullus’ death reopened an old wound that I thought had healed.”
“You must move past this, like the rest of us.”
Tullus took another drink of wine. “I owe Paullus too much to let his death go unpunished. I swear on Mars’s name that I shall find those responsible for his death.”
“Avenging Paullus won’t bring him back.”
“No, but I’ll rest better at night knowing his killers are dead.”
“That’s not what Paullus would’ve wanted, Tullus.”
Tullus placed the wine back in the closet. “As you know, Anna, before Paullus died, he made me leader. So I will make all the decisions for this Troupe.”
Anna shot him a defiant look. “He never meant for you to misuse the power he entrusted you. I for one will not support a decision to go after Paullus’ killers. It can only lead to more pain and suffering.”
“Fortunately you do not speak for the entire Troupe. But I am a Roman, so we shall vote on the decision like civilized people. After all, I don’t want to look like a dictator.”
