by T. A. Uner
After arriving at his estate he ordered one of his slaves send a message to the Clodius villa. In it he requested Eliana join him immediately at his estate. As Norbanus penned the message he fantasized about what Eliana looked like naked. Thoughts of her nubile legs spread wide for him made his manhood swell against the fabric of his tunic. He wondered if she was still a virgin, surely she had taken a lover or two at her age. Anyway, he would find out soon enough.
His slave Marta brought him his lunch: cooked pheasant smothered in rich spices. The dish was surrounded by roasted vegetables, and accompanied by an aromatic loaf of freshly baked bread. As he ate, Norbanus wondered who this Leopard King was. Paullus Gabinius must have meant a lot to this man if he was risking his life for bloody reprisal. One of his aides had told him this Leopard King was once a popular circus performer that had toured the Italian shores as part of a troupe—could this be true? But if this Leopard King was only a humble circus performer, how could he have launched so many devastating attacks against Scorpio without suffering any setbacks? This type of tactical efficiency indicated advanced military training. Apart from a handful of vanquished mercenaries, no witnesses had survived to tell the tale of this mysterious man who traveled with a Leopardess at his side; who commanded a small army that had dared to make war upon the Iron Scorpion. What precious secrets did this Leopard King hold? Perhaps the story of avenging Paullus Gabinius was simply a ruse to sow confusion: maybe a rival member of Rome’s criminal Collegium had hired him to assail Scorpio.
Whatever the truth was, Norbanus would find out.
{V}
Eliana was looking over various ancient scrolls in the courtyard when Remus came home. He greeted his daughter the same way he always did upon returning from a day at the senate, a kiss on each cheek, before a slave brought him wine. He sat across from Eliana and shot her a discerning look.
“And what is my beauty looking over today?” Remus asked as he eyed Eliana over the rim of his wine goblet.
“I had Sacrus and three other slaves make copies of The Twelve Tables, so that I could study the laws of our people in greater detail.”
Remus laughed. “Still trying to fight battles for the oppressed? You should be preparing to move into Norbanus’ villa instead of fussing over those ancient words.”
Eliana ignored her father’s condescending tone: she knew he was only trying to discourage her from helping the merchants. “As I recall, father, you were supposed to assist me in my duty to help the merchants.”
“Was I?” Remus replied, looking surprised at his daughter’s comment. “Eliana, forgive me child, but you never cease to surprise. Most women of your station are busy tending to their husbands estates, not debasing themselves with plebian matters.”
Eliana grinned. “Here, I found something: Table eight, section two: ‘If one has maimed a limb and does not compromise with the injured person, let there be retaliation. If one has broken a bone of a free man with his hand or with cudgel, let him pay a penalty of three hundred coins. If one is guilty of insult, the penalty shall be twenty-five coins.’”
Remus yawned. “And how is this supposed to help your cause, my dear?”
“Filius the blacksmith was assailed by Camus Scorpio’s men; surely Scorpio can be brought to trial for this infraction.”
“Perhaps, if there’s still a Camus Scorpio left to go to trial.”
“What do you mean, father?”
“Haven’t you heard? A savage calling himself the Leopard King has been launching frequent attacks against Camus Scorpio.”
Tullus? A Savage? Such an acrimonious term to describe a man of noble pedigree, Eliana thought.
“Yes, I’ve heard of him. But I didn’t know it was that bad,” she said.
Remus stretched his arms and nodded. “Yes, I believe Prefect Macro ordered Norbanus to dispatch a cohort of his finest Praetorians to hunt him down. That is if they can find him. I hear this Leopard King fellow is an expert at hit-and-run tactics.”
Indeed he is. She already knew her former lover was conducting operations against Scorpio, but wasn’t aware he had inflicted substantial damage to Camus Scorpio’s criminal empire. Then again, Tullus was not in the habit of keeping her appraised of his military operations.
“Well, I plan on sharing these laws with the merchants. Between me and this Leopard King, perhaps these poor souls will finally taste justice.”
“You have bigger problems than the merchants, my dear. A letter arrived early this morning from Tribune Norbanus. It appears he has run out of patience, and is requesting you to join him in his villa. After all, you two are betrothed to one another.”
Eliana felt like she had been betrayed again by her family. No one had told her about Norbanus’ letter. Despite this unwelcome news, she kept calm.
“I understand,” Eliana said as she pondered the injustice that had befallen her. The ancient laws of a patriarch controlling the destinies of his children was barbaric and cruel. How could she be expected to live happily with a man like Norbanus, whom she despised?
“I shall have your personal belongings sent to Norbanus’ residence.”
“I understand,” Eliana repeated dryly as her eyes remained fixed defiantly on her father.
Remus leaned forward and took Eliana’s hands in his. “I know this is difficult for you my dear. But you must understand it is for your own good. Most girls your age are already married by age fourteen. You’re late as it is; we must think about our family’s honor.”
And while you think of our family’s honor, father, you debase mine by forcing me to marry a man I do not love.
“I must go to my room,” Eliana said, pulling her hands from her father’s grip.
Remus’ tone became stern: “Eliana, you will be expected at Norbanus’ residence by nightfall. Please make sure you are ready to depart within the hour. I shall have the rest of your belongings sent to Norbanus’ villa.”
Eliana ran out of the courtyard as tears stained her pink cheeks. She nearly ran over Sacrus in the atrium–the old slave shooting her a look of disbelief. Upstairs in her room, Eliana threw herself on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. She sobbed harder than she had ever done in her life, so loud that two of her servants ran into her room.
“Is there a problem, mistress?” asked one of the newer slaves, a young girl named Yora, who was accompanied by another girl named Ula.
“No, I am fine,” Eliana lied, “please leave me alone!” Even though they were her family’s servants, Eliana hated behaving rudely toward the girls; they were only doing their duty. The two servant girls bowed their heads respectfully and left Eliana alone with her tears. No doubt they would soon report their findings to Adolpha, who would hurry to Eliana’s room to offer her daughter words of solace. But Eliana did not want false comfort, she wanted Tullus. It appeared her rejection of Tullus’ overture to leave Rome with him would haunt her till her final days. She had remained behind for the sake of her family–but a cruel twist of fate meant her own kin had sold her to Norbanus like livestock.
She stood up from her bed and strolled toward the balcony overlooking the Esquiline hill. In the distance, under a clear sky, stood the Caelian hill, dotted with lavish villas surrounded by dense evergreens. Was she destined live out her days as the doleful wife of Norbanus Forticus? Most women would covet the opportunity to marry a man of Norbanus’ stature. But the arrogant Tribune held no appeal for Eliana.
“How can I love you Norbanus,” she asked herself, “when I’m in love with someone else?” She continued to stare off into the distance, as if awaiting an answer from the Caelian hill itself. But when no reply came she sighed and turned back into her room to prepare for the drudging journey to Norbanus’ estate.
Twelve/Duodecim
“I’m tired of cooking for you men,” Anna said, as the Troupe huddled around a kettle filled with brown, viscid substance that looked more like pus than soup. Each man thrust a wooden bowl in front of Anna and she used a ladle to pour e
veryone a helping–all except Gansu, who chewed on a carrot.
“And we’re tired of eating your foul offerings, Anna,” Vulcan replied. Masego snorted in agreement. Tullus remained quiet; he had enough to worry about. Entering this fracas was a battle he’d rather avoid.
“Then don’t eat it.” Anna threw the ladle into the kettle causing the soup to spray Vulcan with sticky brown drops.
“Fine by me,” Vulcan said. He tossed his bowl of soup over his shoulder while Anna growled at him like a vixen. “Tullus, you think Celestra is up for catching us some game? Earlier today I saw some deer in this forest.”
Tullus looked up from his bowl and swallowed a spoonful of soup. “Only if you’re willing to carry her; she’s exhausted from our latest mission. Or have you been running your mouth so often that you haven’t even noticed?” Celestra’s eyelids wavered over her tired, yellow orbs before she mewled and drifted off into peaceful slumber.
Tullus leaned his head back to stretch his neck muscles and noticed a large golden eagle sitting in a tree branch above their camp. The great bird’s eyes sparkled like stars as it watched Tullus. Another Incantra?
Vulcan grunted and stood up. “I guess I’ll take first watch,” he said, grabbing his battle axe. He left the others to patrol the perimeter of the campsite.
“Malodorous brute,” Anna said, after Vulcan had left. “Instead of complaining about my cooking he should bathe more often; his odor smells worse than an oxen’s arse.”
Tullus and Masego laughed. “The soup’s not that bad,” Tullus said, “it just needs more seasoning.”
“Then perhaps, Your Highness, you’d be so kind to do the cooking for us next time.”Tears welled up in Anna’s eyes before she disappeared into her tent. Both Tullus and Masego looked at one another confusedly while Gansu continued chewing his carrot. Up in the tree, the great eagle spread its wings and took flight into the night.
“I’ll be back,” Tullus said, placing his bowl of soup on the ground. “You’re welcome to my helping Masego.” Masego nodded politely and resumed eating his soup.
Tullus pulled back the flap of Anna’s tent. Her face was buried in her slender fingers, sobbing like a small girl. Tullus approached her cautiously, like a hunter approaching a cornered creature. She looked up at him, her proud face stained with tears: for Tullus it was an alien sight, Anna seldom lost control of her emotions.
“What do you want?”
“Is that anyway to speak to your leader?” Tullus reminded her. He tried wiping her tears away but she brushed his hand aside. “Anna what’s wrong? I want to help you.”
“You’ve already done enough,” she said. “This…this whole idea of avenging Paullus is mad. I’m an acrobat, not a soldier.”
Tullus moved closer and put his arm around her shoulders. At first, she bristled, then, surrendered to his touch when he stroked her hair. “I know it’s been hard on us all, but soon, it will be over.”
Anna looked deep into his eyes, and this time, she did not balk when he wiped away her fresh tears. “When do you think this will be over?” she asked.
Tullus didn’t have an estimated time on the collapse of Camus Scorpio’s criminal empire, but according to Yeshiva’s reports, there were already whispers of insurrection stirring amongst the Collegium’s captains. Tullus hoped this would expedite Scorpio’s fall.
“Soon. We’ll end this war on our terms, for now, that’s all that matters.”
“I hate to admit it Tullus, but, I’m scared. All this moving around, attacking from one place and hiding in another, it’s not right. And when is Renfrus coming back? By Edesia’s name…I am no cook.”
Tullus smiled, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw Anna simper.
“Be patient. He’ll be back. He and the others are probably still escorting Trophus back to his home. And you know how Renfrus loves to take his time when he’s traveling in the wilderness. He’s probably picking berries off of bushes or trying to catch an unsuspecting forest creature for our next meal.”
Anna’s simper widened, forming a smile, and Tullus felt a weight lift from his shoulders. This war against Scorpio had taken a toll on him as well. He and Anna had not made love since before Paullus’ death. While sex was the least of his concerns, Tullus longed to feel Anna’s body against his. The thought of intimacy stirred him to action; he tried kissing her, but she retracted her face. “What’s wrong Anna?”
“Not now, Tullus.”
“You never shied away from my kisses before, remember?”
“I know,” she said in a voice that was almost a whisper, “but that was before Paullus died. And you changed after that…in a way, we all did.”
“I’m not sure I understand. We’ve all made sacrifices to bring justice to a man we all loved.”
Anna shook her head. “But that’s where you are wrong, my love, this isn’t justice. You’ve turned our happy little Troupe into a merciless band of bloodthirsty rovers.”
Tullus sighed. “I’ve molded this Troupe into an effective fighting force capable of defeating Rome’s most ruthless criminal. And look at what the six of us have done: we’ve brought the Iron Scorpion to his knees.”
“But at what cost? I told you going after Paullus’ killers won’t bring him back.”
“I know,” Tullus said. “I promise you, things will go back to the way they were, once this is all over. You have my word.”
Anna took Tullus’ hands in her own. He stared into her feral blue eyes and wanted to lose himself once again, to become a part of her heart, body and soul. “I’m afraid it’s not that easy, Tullus. At least not for me. I am not as strong as you, at least, not in a soldier’s sense.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “How can you say that? You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever known. You taught me balance…remember?”
She turned her face away to avoid his stare, and Tullus felt his heart freeze in his chest. He gently released Anna’s shoulders before she looked at him mournfully.
“Something died within us when we embarked on this path, Tullus. I’m not sure what happened, but we’ve all strayed from our Soultrails; and now, I fear the Gods are punishing us by making us miserable.”
Tullus scoffed. “I think I know what this is all about: you want to end it between us…am I right?”
Anna shot him a callous glance. “No. I never said that. Please Tullus, you’re only making this worse.”
“I’m making this worse?” Tullus said, pointing his forefinger at her. “Let me tell you something: if I had a denarius for every woman who disappointed me, I’d be one wealthy Roman.”
Before Anna could launch her retort Vulcan entered the tent, breathing hoarsely, his face specked with sweat beads.
“I hate to interrupt this lovers spat but we have bigger problems.”
Tullus turned away from Anna, still stung by her words, and composed himself.
“What is it Vulcan?”
“Someone is tracking us.”
“Impossible.”
“I was able to evade their scouts. But there’s a column of soldiers marching in our direction.”
Tullus turned to face Anna. “We’ll continue this conversation another time; and take this tent down, immediately.” Tullus accompanied Vulcan out of tent. Outside Masego and Gansu were gathering up their supplies and preparing to break camp. Vulcan guided Tullus through a dense thicket. They weaved their way around a mass of twisted trees before settling behind an overgrown copse overlooking a dirt trail. Less than a thousand paces away, Tullus eyed a column of soldiers marching toward them. Celestra joined them. Tullus scratched the spot behind her head which made the Leopardess purr contently.
“I wonder why they didn’t send out more scouts?” Vulcan asked.
An army without an extensive network of scouts? Strange, Tullus thought. He drew his eyescope to get a detailed look at one of the signifers: the man’s uniform consisted of the typical Roman Legionnaire chain-mail garb, complete with greaves and
leather harness. Upon closer inspection, Tullus noticed the lion-headed pelt that adorned the signifer’s helm. Now it makes sense.
“That’s because these are no mere soldiers, Vulcan. They’re Praetorians—that’s my old cohort,” Tullus said before an idea flashed into his mind.
Vulcan looked befuddled. “Mars be damned,” he said, scratching his bearded cheek.
“Don’t look so agitated Vulcan. Macro probably ordered Norbanus to send a cohort of the Emperor’s best soldiers against us; some might consider that an honor.”
“I don’t feel honored, Tullus.”They turned away and hurried toward their camp. As they weaved their way back, Tullus thought of Decimus: unless things had changed in the hierarchy of his former Praetorian cohort, his old friend would still be leading the unit sent to hunt down him and the Troupe. We stood together as brothers in countless battles, Decimus. Now Mars has made us opponents.
They entered the camp where the horses and Septimus were loaded with as many supplies they could take with them.
“What’s going on, Tullus?” Anna asked.
