by T. A. Uner
Tullus opened one of the crates and inspected one of the swords. “You’ll see.”
“Are you sure this is a wise idea? They could turn against us you know,” Anna asked.
“You let me worry about that; I plan on sneaking into that camp and finding their leader.”
Anna put her hands on her hips. “Tullus Acilius Ulixes, that’s madness.”
“Not if it’s done right; Celestra and I will go tonight.”
“I want to come too,” Anna said. She sounded like an insistent child which made Tullus grin.
“No. Anna, if something happens to me I’ll need you to lead the Troupe. If I don’t come back, the rest of you will have to call off the attack. Don’t forget: both the Praetorians and the First Legion are out there, hunting us.”
Anna nodded reluctantly, but Tullus could tell from the look in her eye that she preferred to be by his side.
After the sun disappeared from the sky, and darkness enveloped the heavens, Tullus and Celestra slowly made their way toward Scorpio’s camp. They descended the incline overlooking the forest gulley where Scorpio’s slave camp stood. The sounds of an owl call cascading from the tree branches above disturbed an otherwise peaceful night. Celestra crept next to Tullus, her starry eyes illuminating her face. She walked in hunting mode as they continued their trek through the forest. Above them, thick patches of wrinkled black clouds framed a hazy white moon.
They arrived at the edge of the woods across from the south wall of Scorpio’s camp where a sentry stood watch. Tullus took hold of the grappling hook attached to a thick rope that was slung over his shoulder.
Tullus knelt next to Celestra. “You know the plan girl,” he told her. The Leopardess emitted a low growl and licked Tullus’ face. He hugged her and felt the warmth of her body before she padded off toward a patch of thick underbrush to begin her assignment.
Tullus hoped the plan would work.
He was about to find out.
The guard–spear in hand–was leaning against the wall. Celestra emitted a loud growl which startled the guard. He positioned his spear ahead of him and cautiously walked toward the source of the growl. Celestra let out another growl and emerged from the underbrush, the guard looked shocked at seeing her, but when Celestra took off he followed.
Tullus smiled and emerged from the edge of the forest. The wall loomed over him like a large wooden sentinel, but now he was alone and could focus on scaling it. He swung the large grappling hook above his head and unleashed it. It struck the top of the parapet and dug itself into a wooden groove. Tullus tested the rope and pulled on it with all his vigor. When he was convinced it could bear his weight he began his ascent.
If one of the guards on the parapet saw him he would be finished. In his compromised position, one well-placed arrow could prove deadly. He paused for a moment and wiped his brow on his arm before continuing his assent. As he scaled the wall he commenced the breathing techniques Gansu had taught him. His nerves relaxed.
Something stirred near him.
It was a rustling sound, like wings flapping. Soon Tullus was under attack by bird talons. He swatted the creature away with his free arm while desperately gripping the rope with his other hand. He quickened his pace, and after a few moments, the bird flew off. Tullus cursed his luck, and hoped the noise hadn’t attracted attention. He came upon a small nest wedged between two of the wooden posts, followed by chirping sounds. No wonder the bird had attacked him, it was a mother protecting her hatchlings. He reached the top of the wall and swung over the parapet, landing on a walkway. Grabbing the grappling hook he slung it over his back and tied the rope around his waist. He spotted other guards keeping watch along the parapets, and under the cover of darkness he descended a wooden ladder until he landed inside the slave camp. It was much darker here and he could easily blend in with the shadows.
He set off to find the cages where the slaves were being held. When he reached them he breathed a sigh of relief. Most of the slaves were sleeping; the children huddled up against their parents. Tullus looked at them solemnly. They had been captured from their homelands and brought here against their will. Even though slavery was common practice throughout the Empire, he still thought it evil. Forcing people to work without payment always struck him as unjust. He wondered if there were others in Rome who thought as he did.
Sshhhhtt! Sshhhhtt! He tried attracting the attention of one of the males. One of the older males approached him and stared at him curiously, no doubt wondering what a man dressed in a Leopard pelt was doing here. Tullus spoke to him in Latin but the man stared at him blankly.
“Do you have a leader?” Tullus asked the old man.
The man turned around and shook one of his companions: a large, muscular African. His eyes fluttered open and he groaned. The old man spoke excitedly in a strange tongue. The muscular man nodded and approached Tullus.
“Can you understand me?” Tullus asked.
The African nodded. “Yes,” he said, “I understand your language. Who are you?”
“A friend,” Tullus replied amiably. “I’m here to make you an offer.”
“Friend? We have no friends here, lightskin.”
“At least listen to what I have to say, and then make your choice.”
The African studied Tullus for a few moments before he spoke: “I am listening.”
“Do you want your freedom back?”
The African’s eyes widened. “Of course, no human deserves to suffer what my people have endured. ”
“I can give you your freedom back,” Tullus said, “but there’s a price for that freedom.”
“What is your price?”
“Fight for me; fight against the men who enslaved you and your people.”
The African looked puzzled. “Why would you do such a thing?”
Tullus paused for a moment, his eyes somber. “I have my reasons.”
The African nodded. “My name is Jonga, brother.” He extended his hand through the cage bars and Tullus shook it. Despite Jonga’s firm handshake his skin was soft, which reminded Tullus of Masego’s grip.
“Now I must find a way into the camp during daylight without attracting attention.”
“I can help you with that,” Jonga said. “These fools, they reveal their secrets openly in front of us when they talk. They don’t see us as a threat since we are caged like animals.”
Tullus was intrigued. “Tell me more, Jonga.”
Jonga leaned closer to the bars and motioned for Tullus to come closer. “There’s a secret underground entrance at the western wall of the camp. They use it to store their supplies, as it is cooler there. It is also an escape route, in the event the camp is overrun by enemies.”
A plan brewed in Tullus’ head.
“But it is guarded on both ends, brother,” Jonga said. “Heavily armed guards stand watch.”
“I will deal with them.”
“You must free us quickly. In two days time, they will sell us to a buyer.”
Tullus stood up. “I will bring weapons for you and your people. How many warriors are there amongst you?”
“We are all warriors at heart, brother.”
Tullus shook Jonga’s hand again; the African looked hopeful. “I promise to come back and free you and your people Jonga.”
“Why do you wear that mask?”
Tullus touched the Leopard-print scarf that concealed the lower-half his face. “It conceals my true nature.”
Jonga nodded. “Do you have a name?”
“Yes,” Tullus replied. “The Leopard King.”
{V}
“Tullus is The Leopard King?” Titus said before explosive laughter took hold of him. Decimus had explained to him what had happened in the warehouse. They sat inside Decimus’ tent and drank wine across from one another at a table. A gleaming trencher sat between them, filled with roast venison and grilled potatoes.
“I was as shocked as you were, Titus,” Decimus said before taking a sip of wine. “Who would think, our old Cent
urion, the great Tullus Acilius Ulixes.”
“I still cannot believe it.”
“There’s more.”
Titus’ eyes widened.
“Our Tribune, Norbanus, is corrupt. He is conspiring with Camus Scorpio–a crime lord.”
“No, this cannot be,” Titus said. “Where did you get this information?”
“Alas,” Decimus said dejectedly, “it is true. Senator Remus’ daughter told me. I believe her words can be trusted.”
,“But what of the other leading citizens Tullus has attacked?”
“All foolery. Manufactured by Norbanus and Macro. Macro and Caligula were looking for a reason to destroy The Leopard King’s popularity amongst the people while elevating Caligula’s image. In turn Norbanus used lies as an excuse to cover Caligula’s inequities.”
“But we cannot disobey the orders of a Praetorian Tribune.”
Decimus gulped more wine and swallowed hard. It tasted bitter. Like bile. For some reason he had no desire to drink anymore tonight. Perhaps his new rank had served to elevate him above the frivolities of excessive drink, gambling and women. “I have the support of Senator Remus and the senate, we will be safe.”
Titus looked at Decimus disbelievingly. “How in Orcus’s name did you manage that?”
“It’s a long story, but for now, I’ve decided not to pursue Tullus.”
Titus breathed a sigh of relief. “Then, what are we to do, Decimus?”
Decimus took a piece of venison from the trencher, chewed on it thoughtfully, and swallowed.
“We’ll find Tullus, and, if possible, convince him to leave Italy.”
Titus did not look hopeful. “What if we cannot convince him?”
Decimus’ face became somber. “Let us pray to the gods it does not come to that, Titus. Round up the men tomorrow at dawn. I’ll give them their new orders. Then, we go looking for Tullus.”
Sixteen/Sedecim
When Caligula fell ill most of Rome’s citizens descended into a state of hopelessness, as if a clandestine fever had taken hold of their senses. Thousands of plebeians gathered in front of the palace to pay homage to their ill Emperor, and, for a few days, even the Leopard King was forgotten.
In the Emperor’s bedroom, Drusilla, Caligula’s most beloved sister, held his hand while he lay unconscious in his bed.
“How long has he been like this, Drusilla?” asked Senator Silanus.
“Almost two days now Senator,” the Medicus says it’s the strain of office that has contributed to his illness.
Gemellus entered the room and hovered around Silanus like a vulture.
“How is my father?” he asked.
“Not well it appears.”
Gemellus nodded and eyed the unconscious Caligula.
“We will leave you now, Drusilla,” Silanus said before placing a kiss on the young girl’s cheek.
Drusilla turned toward Silanus and smiled. “Thank you so much for visiting him, Senator, I’m sure he would’ve appreciated it had he been awake.”
Silanus nodded and left Caligula’s bedroom with Gemellus trailing him like a shadow.
“I’ve been hearing disturbing rumors,” Gemellus said in the corridor.
“Is that so, my Prince,” Silanus said unctuously, “what type of rumors?”
Gemellus lowered his voice and spoke into Silanus’ ear: “Caligula is fucking Drusilla.”
Silanus chuckled. “That, my dear boy, is a nasty rumor.”
“What of our plan?”
Silanus placed his hands behind his back and spoke quietly. “We must tread carefully, my Prince.”
“I want leadership of the Empire, now.”
“And you shall have it, but, you must be patient.”
They left the palace and found themselves in the courtyard where a group of Praetorians were performing military exercises.
“Look at them,” Gemellus scoffed, “they follow Caligula blindly. Don’t they know he’s unfit to rule?”
“And you are?”
“Of course, I am of Tiberius’ blood, not a degenerate child of a dead general.”
“Germanicus is still revered throughout the Empire; you would be wise to lace your tongue with respect when uttering his name.”
Gemellus shook his head ruefully. “Is Remus with us or not?”
“I have not heard from him, for now we must assume that he has chosen not to join us.”
“If we are successful he must not be allowed to live,” Gemellus said.
Silanus grinned. “Why Gemellus, you are not half as infantile as they say, there may be hope for you yet.”
Gemellus smiled idiotically. Silanus assumed that the boy had not been complimented in a long time. What is there to compliment? Silanus thought. A rock has more guile than this milksop. I will rule the Empire while you assume the figurehead role. You, Gemellus, are too impulsive to become Emperor.
“So–after Caligula is dead–you will recommend the senate that I be made Emperor?”
“Yes, yes. We’ve been through all this before, Gemellus; after Caligula is dead the Senate will have no choice but to confirm you as the new Emperor. And when that happens I will play you like a Buccina.
“How will it be done?”
Silanus looked around cautiously before reaching inside his toga. He pulled out a small vial filled with a clear liquid.
“Poison?” Gemellus said
“Yes, an assassin would prove too complicated, and if captured could betray us.”
Gemellus looked confused. “So who is to poison the Emperor?”
Silanus smiled.
{II}
Sacrus was listening to Silanus and Gemellus’ treasonous remarks from behind a thicket in the courtyard. With his task complete, he scurried out of the thicket like a squirrel to report his findings to Remus. Sacrus quickened his pace as he reached the main gate of the palace while the Praetorians let him by without so much as a glance. His tired old heart thumped against his chest while he limped his way through the crowded streets, grimacing at the pain in his left ankle. Yesterday, he had twisted it walking down a flight of stairs while spying on Gemellus inside the palace. I am getting too old for these tasks, Sacrus thought, if my master would free me I could live out the rest of my life in peace; perhaps even find time to start a family.
Sacrus found the Curia Julia and shuffled in. As he walked upon the marble floor of the main hall his footsteps echoed around him. The senate was not in session but inside the senate room he found his master sitting on one of the benches reading a scroll. Remus looked up and smiled, revealing thin wrinkles around his mouth.
“So Sacrus, what have you found out today?”
“They are planning to assassinate Caligula,” Sacrus said.
Remus nodded and rolled up the scroll; his face became somber.
“Walk with me Sacrus.”
I wonder what ideas he has floating around in that cunning head of his. Something ambitious no doubt, he doesn’t like ending up on the wrong side of things.
They left the senate room. Remus nodded as they passed scattered members of the senate until they stopped next to the winged victory altar.
“How are they planning to kill Caligula?”
“Poison.”
Remus scratched his chin contemplatively with the edge of the scroll.
“It is Senator Silanus’ plan.”
Remus smiled. “Of course, you don’t think that halfwit Gemellus has enough sense in his fingernail to concoct such a plan? This is worse than I thought.”
“What will we do now?”
“The only thing we can do,” Remus said. “Protect the future of our beloved Empire.”
He still hasn’t revealed which side he is taking, a true politician, and a gambler of fate.
Remus patted Sacrus on the back. “You have done well my old friend, and you shall be rewarded when this is all over.”
“Can we discuss the subject of my freedom?”
Remus grinned. “Yes, I suppos
e that after all of this unpleasantness is behind us we can do that.”
{III}
Gemellus was excited yet confused. He wondered how Silanus had talked him into poisoning Caligula. No matter. After today everyone throughout the Empire would treat him with more respect–even Silanus. That old fool thinks I’m as stupid as a rock, but I’ll show him. He reached inside his toga and pulled out the vial. Gemellus stared at the clear liquid before him and smiled. Inside it translucent death stared back at him. So much power in something so compact.
He slipped the vial inside his toga and took a deep breath. Casting off the last vestige of doubt he tiptoed out of his bedroom and gently closed the door behind him. Gemellus held his breath momentarily as he passed a guard in the corridor before he located a landing where a spiral staircase curled up toward the next floor. As Gemellus passed the sconces that lined the walls he felt the warmth of the tapers stroke his cheek. This is wrong. Do not allow yourself to become the catspaw of Silanus.
“Shut up,” Gemellus said
Do it. Caligula never loved you. He made you his adopted son because he regarded you as a simple house pet. You were born to rule, Gemellus. You shall be the next Augustus.
“Yes…Augustus…that’s me…”
Hurry up! Get going! Before dawn arrives!
Gemellus resumed his assent until he found himself on the next landing. I’m almost there. Turning right he walked down another corridor where two guards flanked the door leading to Caligula’s bedroom. With every step that brought him closer to the door Gemellus’ hands started shaking.
Finally, he approached the guards. These were not Praetorians, rather German mercenaries Caligula had conscripted into his personal guard.
They crossed their spears.
“The Emperor is resting,” said the larger of the two.
“Do not speak to me insolently, guard,” Gemellus replied acidly. “I am here to see Caligula.”
Both Germans laughed.
The other German said: “Go play with your cock, little Prince, before you get hurt.”
This approach is not working. They don’t respect you. Use the fire inside you. Act like a man and they will treat you like one. Gemellus shook his head and placed his hands over his ears while the mercenaries continued to laugh.
