by T. A. Uner
“Praetorian Guardsman; an entire cohort. Anna, I need you and Gansu to get the horses, Septimus and supplies to safety.”
Anna nodded while Gansu followed her toward the edge of the camp where the horses and Septimus were hobbled.
“Masego, you and Vulcan come with me.” Tullus led them back to the coppice where he had first espied the Praetorian column.
“They’ll be here soon, Tullus, what are your orders?” Vulcan asked.
Tullus scanned the terrain until his eyes spotted two immense trees, facing one another, and flanking a section of the trail where the Praetorians would soon pass through. This could work. But the plan must be executed without flaw. “You see those trees?” Tullus pointed at the two forest monstrosities, while Vulcan and Masego searched for them through the dense cornucopia of foliage surrounding the coppice.
“I see them,” Vulcan said.
“As do I,” Masego added.
“Excellent. Now…this is what we’re going to do.”Tullus heard the quickening pace of marching feet as the Praetorians closed in. At the head of the column Decimus and Titus sat atop their steeds. Tullus smiled when he saw his old friends, but when he reminded himself they were now on opposing sides, his smile faded. Tullus climbed down from behind the coppice and made his way toward the middle of the trail. He waited for the Aquilifer at the front of the advancing column to notice him. Tullus eyed the two trees flanking the trail and hoped Vulcan and Masego’s timing wouldn’t be off. Celestra appeared next to him. “Took you long enough to show up, girl,” he said pointedly before she growled back at him. Tullus gently stroked the Leopardess’ spotted back and felt her soft coat against his palm. “Easy now girl, our friends know what is at stake.” Soon the column came into full view as shafts of sunlight peaked through the dense treetops. Tullus eyed the familiar standard of his old cohort: a silver moon and stars sewn on a blue field. When Decimus and the other Praetorian Centurions noticed him and Celestra standing directly in their path, they rode forward with their armed cavalry.
When they were less than fifty paces from where Tullus stood, he raised his arms and shouted: “Halt, Romans.”
Decimus barked orders to his men who slowed their pace before coming to an abrupt halt.
For a few moments the forest was still, as only the chirping of birds broke the silence. In the background, Tullus heard the faint sound of his two friends hacking tree barks with their cutting axes before Decimus and Titus, flanked by their armed cavalry, and halted their approach less than twenty paces from where Tullus and Celestra stood.
“You must be the one they call The Leopard King,” Decimus called out, his deep voice resonating across the air between him and Tullus.
“I am. And I must ask you to go no further. This forest is the domain of me and my troupe,” he replied, wondering what Decimus would think if he knew the true identity of the Leopard King. That would definitely leave the old dog reeling, Tullus thought amusedly.
“You speak as if you command an army, yet only you and your pet stand against us.”
Tullus laughed. “I assure you she is no ‘pet.’ If you like, I can have her demonstrate her strength while we discuss your surrender.”
Decimus laughed. “I will not waste any more time talking with you, barbarian. It is you who will surrender to us.” Decimus paused a few moments to allow Tullus to ponder his offer, not that it really mattered. Tullus knew Roman cohorts did not negotiate with enemies. “What say you?” Decimus barked. “Answer me, savage, my patience runs dry.”
“This is my answer,” Tullus replied. “Vulcan…Masego…now!” The two trees teetered before Tullus heard the loud grunting of two men exerting themselves. Decimus and his men looked around, clutching their weapons, expecting an ambush; instead, they were greeted by the sound of the two trees collapsing. Tullus and Celestra had already cleared the trail before the trees came crashing down on the spot where they once stood–obstructing the path of Decimus’ cohort. Despite the confusion, Decimus’ archers managed to launch three arrows at Tullus, who felt a fletching slice past his ear. It wasn’t until he felt warm blood on his neck that he realized the arrow had grazed his ear. More arrows zipped past Tullus and Celestra, missing their marks as they thudded into trees.
Tullus spotted Vulcan and Masego ahead of him, dashing through the forest, before he and Celestra caught up with them. Vulcan’s face was covered with sweat, while his cheeks were flushed indigo. Masego’s muscular skin was also layered in sweat, but he was in better shape, and maintained his stride while Vulcan’s faltered.
The Fortitudo spell he had cast on his friends–which enabled them to down the trees at a quicker pace–was wearing off. Tullus grabbed the German’s arm. But Vulcan tripped over a rock which sent them both crashing to the ground.
Celestra, seeing Tullus had fallen, circled back. Masego halted his stride and followed her. “Get up you lummox,” Tullus said, helping the lumbering German to his feet.
“I think I twisted my ankle,” Vulcan said.
Masego returned to help Tullus. After slinging Vulcan’s heavy arms over their shoulders to help him walk, they hurried as best they could, toward the rendezvous spot, while Celestra protected their rearguard. Fortunately there was no sign of Roman pursuit. When they emerged on the far side of the trail, Anna, Gansu and the horses were waiting for them. Septimus brayed when he saw Tullus and Celestra emerge from the underbrush.
“What took you so long?” Anna asked as Gansu dismounted and led Tullus and Masego over to one of the horses where they helped Vulcan climb onto the saddle.
“Vulcan had a little spill,” Tullus said. “Now, let’s get out of here. If I know our pursuers, they won’t let two trees foil their advance.”
{II}
When nightfall arrived they found an inn where Vulcan was friends with the innkeeper: a thick-set, one-eyed Goth named Yorkon who maintained a comfortable hostelry for road-weary travelers. After they arrived at the inn, Yorkon’s stable boys had their horses, and Septimus, taken to the stables so they could be watered and fed while Tullus and his friends dined on roasted lamb and mulled wine while Yorkon’s son, Yikron, waited on them. “Are you a real, live king?” Yikron asked Tullus, who was chewing on a slab of lamb, while Celestra was busy enjoying a thick piece of mutton.
Tullus swallowed his food and smiled at the boy, ruffling his hair playfully, while Celestra looked up from her meal and licked her whiskers. “That I am lad, but do not tell a soul,” he said, before tossing Yikron a silver denarius.
Yikron caught the coin and smiled. “I promise, my King. Not a word from me.”
Yorkon emerged from the kitchens carrying two mugs of mead and looked at his son disapprovingly. “Yikron. I told ye not to disturb our guests. They’re tired. Now go fetch us more bread from the oven.”
Yikron scurried off like a startled squirrel, but not before Tullus tossed him another denarius which made the boy’s eyes sparkle. “Go easy on the boy Yorkon,” Tullus said, “he looks like a fine lad.”Yorkon placed fresh mugs of mead in front of Vulcan and Masego who thirstily downed their contents. Gansu drank water, much to the surprise of Yorkon.
“A fine lad he is,” Yorkon said, scratching his large belly, “but he spends too much time talking with the customers instead of serving them. Now, will ye all be needing beds?”
“Only for tonight,” Tullus replied, while the others continued eating. All except for Anna, who was helping the stable boy tend to their lathered horses. “We don’t plan on staying longer than necessary; after all, we’re wanted criminals.”
Yorkon laughed, causing his double chin to jiggle like a bowl of pudding. “May the gods bless ye Tullus; what ye and yer troupe is doing to Camus Scorpio is commendable. That shitworm still owes me 18,000 denarii in gambling debts he ran up long before he became the infamous crime lord of Rome. You’d think with all the money he makes from fleecing people he’d have repaid all his old debts.”
Tullus finished his meal and washed it down w
ith mead. “I promise the next time we strike one of his convoys, we’ll bring you back 18,000 denarii worth of goods as payment for his debts–plus interest.”
Yorkon smiled at Tullus. “In that case, tonight’s stay is complimentary to ye and yer noble troupe.”
The door to the inn burst open and Anna appeared, strands of damp hair stuck to her right cheek. “Everyone. There’s a group of Roman soldiers marching up the road.”
Tullus removed his Leopard pelt, cape and weapons and threw it to Yorkon who lifted a hidden trapdoor built into the floor and tossed the incriminating items inside. Celestra slipped under the table, while Anna dropped herself in Tullus’ lap and started locking lips with him. He understood her motive: less passion; more show. But he welcomed the spectacle all the same. Vulcan, Masego and Gansu resumed their meals—the easterner being the only one dining on a leafy green salad. The door flew open again and four Roman soldiers sauntered in.
They weren’t Praetorians, but they still looked imposing. The tallest of the four, a square-jawed man with obsidian eyes, was dressed in the uniform of a Centurion. Over his chain mail he wore a leather harness decorated with phalerae which glowed under the torchlight of Yorkon’s inn. The three other soldiers fell in behind their leader who scanned the room before his eyes settled on Tullus and Anna.
“Who is the owner of this establishment?” The Centurion said.
“I am, sir,” Yorkon answered. “Will ye four be needing rooms for tonight?”
“We’re looking for rebels that might’ve passed through this way. Their leader calls himself the Leopard King.”
So now we’re called rebels? Tullus thought, before he and Anna broke off their kiss.
“No…no Leopards here,” Yorkon said confidently, “We only cater to those carrying denarii.”
Celestra let out a soft growl and Tullus wondered if the Centurion had heard it. The man looked capable enough; perhaps his ears were sharp too. The Centurion cocked his head in Tullus’ direction and eyed everyone suspiciously. “Take a look around,” he ordered his men. They drew their short swords and began inspecting the dining hall. Fortunately Celestra was masked in shadows under the table; the soldiers only shot a cursory glance in her direction. They disappeared into the kitchen before returning to the dining hall a few moments later.
“Its all clear,” one of the soldiers said.
“Can I interest ye gentleman in some mulled wine?” Yorkon said. “Compliments of a loyal establishment.”
“No. We must be off,” the Centurion replied. “Pardon our interruption.” The four soldiers departed the inn and a few moments later Tullus heard the sound of their horses galloping off down the road.
Yorkon wiped a layer of sweat from his brow before Celestra emerged from under the table.
“That was close,” Anna said as she rose from Tullus’ lap. “Perhaps we should leave– more soldiers might pass through here tonight.”
Tullus shook his head. “No, they’ve already checked this inn once, they won’t bother to come back so soon. We should be safe here for the night; as long as we leave at first light.”
“Then I suggest you retire to your rooms, Tullus,” Yorkon said, “before Vulcan here drinks himself into a puddle of piss.”
The German let out an angry belch before Masego and Gansu guided him upstairs to his room. Tullus and Anna followed suit as they trudged up the steps toward their own rooms. Tullus eyed Anna engrossingly: the superficial kiss she had given him earlier had stirred his desire. But Anna smiled coyly back at him.
“Good night Tullus,” she said, before closing the door behind her. Tullus shook his head ruefully before Celestra loped up the steps and stopped to observe him. Tullus smiled back at his friend, before the Leopardess nuzzled his leg affectionately. He repaid her by stroking her back. After emitting a yawn Tullus headed for his room, where a solitary candle burned inside a taper next to a large bed. Tullus removed his boots and stretched out on the firm bed while Celestra curled up next to him. She rested her spotted head on his chest while Tullus scratched the spot between her ears. “I bet you still love me girl,” he said. Tullus felt his eyelids grow heavier before drifting off. Celestra quietly withdrew to the foot of the bed where a large blanket lay neatly folded atop a wooden trunk. She eyed Tullus intently, as if admiring the tranquility of his peaceful slumber before taking the blanket in her mouth and gently spreading it out over the bed to cover Tullus. Then, under the dim glow of a tired candlelight, she curled up next to Tullus again, and closed her eyes.
{III}
From the balcony of Norbanus’ villa, atop the Caelian hill, Eliana stared at the lavish Roman villas occupying her surroundings: each designed in the rustic style, with their cloistered interiors framed by ivory colonnaded porticos and sloped garnet-shingled roofs. But even the beauty of modern Roman architecture didn’t ease Eliana’s nerves. Though the wedding date was still not set Norbanus had already installed her as the lady of the household. He was intent on establishing Eliana’s presence in his villa when he was away at work during the day, and she had reluctantly accepted her new role.
If Norbanus possessed one admirable trait, it was his generosity. No expense was spared on her behalf, as the young Tribune went out of his way to buy her affections: fresh flowers delivered daily adorned the atrium, expensive clothes designed by the finest tailors, and a luxurious custom-built sedan worthy of a Roman goddess were some of the notable gifts presented to her. But these material objects mattered little to Eliana, who found herself thinking about Tullus more every day. She had learned through Sacrus, that Macro had committed most of his Praetorian Guardsmen (and an additional Legion) in an effort to capture or kill The Leopard King and his allies. Eliana found herself praying to the gods to keep Tullus safe so he may survive to return to her someday. She wondered what Norbanus would do to her if he ever found out she was conspiring with the Leopard King to help the merchants. After utilizing one of the laws she had found in the Twelve Tables, she had hired a lawyer, and ordered him to file a complaint with the local magistrate against Camus Scorpio. Between Tullus’ attacks and her lawyer’s stubborn guile, Scorpio’s days as the criminal overlord of Rome’s underworld appeared numbered. She did not fear any repercussions from Scorpio’s organization. From what she’d heard through Yeshiva, the Iron Scorpion’s resources were stretched thin. Besides, she was under the protection of Norbanus’ guards and slaves, surely no harm could come to her here?
Yeshiva and the other merchants were quite content these days. And why shouldn’t they be? Tullus’ war against Scorpio had allowed them to reclaim their livelihood. The happiness on Yeshiva’s face was all the proof Eliana needed. The other merchants were also eager to share their newfound prosperity with her. Whenever she visited their stalls in the Forum they would offer her gifts from their wares. At first she accepted, so as not to offend them, but now she refused. “I didn’t fight for your rights only so you could surrender your wares to me,” she would remind them.
With the war against Scorpio going well, Eliana had extra time to occupy herself with her hobbies. She took music lessons with Worlius and practiced her harp when she was home. But today she didn’t feel like playing. Marta, one of Norbanus’ older slaves, approached her while Eliana gazed up at the flawless blue sky. When Eliana heard Marta’s shuffling footsteps she turned away from the rail of her balcony.
“Yes, Marta. What is it?”
“Lady Eliana, I wanted to inform you that Tribune Norbanus is home.”
Eliana looked confused. What was Norbanus doing home so early? He usually returned in the evening.
“Where is he, Marta?”
“Downstairs, in the atrium, resting.”
Eliana hurried down to the atrium. There, Norbanus was lying on a couch while a slave fanned him. “Norbanus? What are you doing home so early?”
The young Tribune looked up at her through tired eyes. “It’s the fucking plebian mob. When rumor spread that I had ordered my Guardsmen to pursue th
e Leopard King, they hurled rotten vegetables at me and my guards.” He stuck out his neck like an ostrich and looked around. “Where is my wine?” he called out before one of the slaves brought him a goblet and poured him wine. “This Leopard King has become a nuisance to the state.”
When did Norbanus start drinking? Eliana wondered. He hates alcohol.
“I hear he’s been helping the merchants,” Eliana said, “maybe the people are looking for someone to believe in.”
Norbanus sat up from the couch and eyed Eliana suspiciously. “That is why we have an Emperor…the people should believe in him.”
“Why should they? What has Caligula done so far to earn their respect other than throwing lavish parties and emptying the Empire’s coffers?”
Norbanus’ eyes widened while the veins in his neck pulsed like cords. “I will forgive your treasonous remarks based solely on the fact that you are to become my wife.”
Eliana seated herself across from him. “I think it’s quite valiant,” she said, picturing Tullus wearing his Leopard pelt and cape, heroically fighting off Camus Scorpio’s murderous lackeys with Celestra at his side.
Norbanus swallowed a mouthful of wine and stared at her brusquely. “You do, do you? I suppose you also find my condition humorous as well?” He rose from his couch and threw down his goblet. It clattered at his feet, creating a crimson wine puddle on the floor mosaic.
“I do not like hearing these treasonous words spoken from your lips,” Norbanus said, “I also don’t like the way you make this Leopard King out as a hero of the people.” He grabbed her by her arm and pulled her toward him. Eliana smelled the wine on his breath mixed with the sour sweat of his skin.
“Let me go, you’re hurting my arm,” Eliana said. She tried squirming out of his tight grip.
“Not until I have a kiss.”
“No, you’re acting like a wild beast. Let me go, or I’ll tell my father you hurt me.”
Norbanus laughed. “Stupid girl, he bequeathed you to me.”
