I took in a sharp breath of air, more enthralled than surprised at what I was seeing. After what seemed like endless months of desolate, wintry Britain, this locale was awe inspiring. I wasn’t even sure I’d seen anything like it in all the years of my life. I looked down, finally taking notice of a small settlement located at the center of two hills. Without a thought, I took my first step toward it, deciding there was no point in waiting for Merlin.
On my way down I noticed my feet below me, and saw that I was again wearing my combat boots. I checked the rest of my body and found that I was back in my old outfit. I sent my left hand into its corresponding cargo pocket and dug around for my glacier glasses. Luckily, they were still there, and I fitted them over my eyes.
“Does wearing your sunglasses make you feel like a badass, Jacob?”
I turned to see Merlin walking beside me, back in his old man tourist outfit, now complete with a wide, circular brimmed straw hat.
“Only at night,” I said. “Now, however, I just want to protect my eyes from the sun’s deadly, dastardly radiation. Wouldn’t you?”
“But would it surprise you to learn that those aren’t really your eyes you are using to perceive this world?
I rolled my head toward Merlin and lowered my glasses with a finger to look over them. “I think you should know by now that I’m past surprises.”
“You do seem to be pretty perceptive.”
“Damn straight,” I said, pushing my glasses back to cover my eyes. “So where are we? Scratch that… when are we?”
“I believe I can answer both questions by simply replying with: the founding of Rome.”
“No shit?” I said, more excited than surprised, glancing at the little settlement between two of the landscape’s handful of hills. In a moment of clarity I tried to count them, including the one Merlin and I were descending, and tallied seven in total. “Well, shit.”
Merlin chuckled beside me as we sauntered down the hill. “This really is all very stimulating for me as well, Jacob. To borrow one of your many wonderful expressions, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
I turned to look at him. “You like all those, huh? I’m so happy for you. Really, I am. It’s not every day that a simple human can have his mind invaded by an alien creature against his will and forced into some kind of vision quest that, while it does have its perks in the form of near naked ladies, has been something of a trip. And not a good one at that. So I’m really glad I could help you out, Merlin.”
“Are you fishing for the truth behind who or what I am?” He asked.
“For a guy who doesn’t even need a Vulcan mind meld to read my mind, I would think you should already know.”
“Oh, Star Trek!” He exclaimed. “A wonderful series. I only wished you’d watched more of the spin off shows or read the supplemental books. A little more depth to that universe would have been fascinating!”
I shook my head at him, almost horrified at what he was saying. “So what exactly did you do to me? Download my entire mind onto a hard drive and then watch every single thing I’ve ever experienced in super fast forward, absorbing everything I’ve ever seen or done, even the things I can’t remember?”
“You really have seen too many movies, Jacob.”
“That isn’t an answer!” I growled.
“Do you really need one, at this point?”
I turned back to the settlement which was just coming into focus as we grew closer. “I suppose not. It’s just that you could have asked first, you know?”
“I apologize,” Merlin said with a chuckle. “Next time, I’ll be sure to ask.”
“Yeah, you do that,” I said, knowing that if there ever was a next time I was pretty sure I’d run like hell away from him. But for now, I had to work with the man, so I gestured toward the settlement, and turned to him. “I assume this is still a part of my vision quest then, and that we didn’t actually travel back in time?”
“I wish you would stop referring to it as that, but yes, you are basically correct. Do not worry about interference, for they won’t even sense our presence.”
“Oh, wonderful,” I said glumly. “I always wanted to be part of an extreme interpretation of Dickens’ classic Christmas tale… I just didn’t know it’d be this extreme. Just don’t turn into the Ghost of Christmas Future on me, Merlin. That guy was terrifying.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he answered, and I rolled my eyes as I watched him marching beside me, his arms swinging wildly with each step, a large closed lipped smile permanently plastered to his face.
“By the way,” I said, “you looking fucking ridiculous in that outfit.”
Merlin looked offended. “You clearly have no sense of style, Jacob. This fanny pack is perhaps the most amazing invention I’ve ever seen in all my years. Observe.” He paused for a second so that he could twist the pack to the front of his body and unzip it. “There is ample storage space within this compartment and its location around my abdomen is most comfortable and convenient. I can place a great many objects in here. See… I have here my magic wand, a packet of pixie dust, a deck of tarot cards, a travel-sized crystal ball, a pocket edition of the Necronomicon, my passport…”
“Let me see that!” I yelled, reaching for it but he backed away.
“That’s protected information, Jacob. You wouldn’t want the State Department knocking on your door, would you? Oh! And finally, there’s even enough room for a ham sandwich. Everything a wizard on the go could possible need.”
I shook my head. “It’s becoming harder and harder to take you seriously, Merlin.”
He shrugged. “You’ll try anything to look and feel young when you reach my age, believe me.”
“Which is?”
“Nice try, Mr. Hunter.”
I sighed. “Why couldn’t it have been Santino who activated the orb? The two of you would have been perfect for each other.”
“Why indeed?” Merlin lamented. “But better you than your sister. She seems a little… boring.”
I ignored him, wondering if the last few hours of my life wasn’t just further proof of my steady slip into insanity, but I pushed the thought away and tried to get a better sense of what we were walking into. If Merlin wasn’t exaggerating, and that we really were about to witness the “founding of Rome,” then I was about to witness the actual events lost to history that were later replaced with bed time stories and mythology.
The way I remembered it – and there are, of course, varying accounts – Romulus and Remus each had opposing views as to which hill was best to found their city upon. Romulus preferred the Palatine Hill, while Remus preferred another. I only remembered the Palatine Hill as Romulus’ choice because he was in fact the eventual victor, which subsequently led to Remus’ later murder.
“It was the Aventine Hill that Remus preferred,” Merlin supplied.
I nodded appreciatively. “You see, that’s the right way to read my mind. Telling me things I can’t remember. Hot damn, I really could have used you back in college, Merlin.”
His smile remained in place but he didn’t respond, which seemed odd since he seemed to take great joy in always getting in the last word. I wondered if it had something to do with what we were about to observe in the coming minutes, that is, if mythology had it right. After everything I’d seen and all the history historians had either gotten wrong, or were purposefully misled to interpret as wrong, I was ready to see just about anything…
Except for what I actually saw the moment we entered the small encampment.
Merlin and I squeezed between a pair of tents, and found ourselves at the perimeter of a large central area. Within was a raised platform at the very center, surrounded by a large crowd of screaming, shouting, fist pumping…
Muppets?
I tore my glasses off and squinted at the anthropomorphized crowd of puppets that looked so much like the Muppets from the beloved children’s show that the scene before me was borderline copyright infringement. There was
n’t any string dangling from their forms, nor did I see any hands shoved up their asses, but still, the puppets before me leapt and shouted and were very obviously alive and worked up over something going on at their center. Not believing my own eyes, I was half tempted to look up and search for Statler and Waldorf yelling insults from their viewing box, but I refrained. Instead, I looked to the center stage to see two large puppets wrestling each other.
I turned to glare at Merlin, who did little more than watch them as he spoke. “Do not blame me, Jacob,” he said casually. “You know as well as I that The Muppet Christmas Carol is your favorite version of the story.”
I looked up at the sky in annoyance. “Change it…”
“But it really is a wonderful metaphor for the childlike…”
“Change it!!”
“Spoil sport…”
And in the blink of an eye, the chaotic mess of puppet on puppet action vanished, replaced with normal looking humans acting in very human ways. I sighed in relief, almost worried that the people of this time period actually had been puppets.
“Come,” Merlin ordered. “We’ll have a better view over here.”
I nodded and followed as he wove his way around the mob of sweaty, shirtless, men who cheered for one of the two individuals atop the platform. As we crept around back, I took notice of the wrestling duo, an odd sense of déjà vu setting in as I recalled the moment when I’d first met Wang and Bordeaux when they’d been boxing in our secret subterranean hideout beneath the Vatican back in 2021.
However, while Wang and Bordeaux were polar opposites in terms of their physicality and fighting style, it was clearly evident, even from this distance, that these two wrestlers were nearly identical in size and build. Additionally, while I couldn’t yet make out their facial features, both had mops of long, thick, black hair atop their heads that flung beads of sweat in all directions as they grappled with one another.
It didn’t take a genius to deduce that these two young lads had to be none other than Romulus and Remus, but instead of feeling excited or elated at the fact that I was actually witnessing the mythological founders of Rome fighting each other, I simply felt sad that this was really only just a dream, and that I’d never be able to get their autographs.
But I wasn’t about to let something so trivial bring me down completely. Reality or fantasy, if this vision really was accurate, then I was seeing the actual events played out by Romulus and Remus.
Romulus and Remus!
Remus and fucking Romulus!
I couldn’t wait to get back to Helena and explain all of this in as much detail as I could remember. I had no doubt that she’d absolutely love every single second of it, but I would be doing her a disservice if I didn’t make an effort to discover as many details as I could.
Feeling that giddy excitement the historian in me always felt when discovering new parts of history, I turned to Merlin. “How about a little background information? At what point in their lives is this?”
“There’s no point offering you today’s date, but what’s important is that Romulus and Remus have just thrown off the shackles of their great uncle, Amulius, and have restored their grandfather, Numitor, to the throne of Alba Longa.”
“Which they could have taken for themselves had they wanted, right?”
“You know your mythology well, but they never would have. They were far too industrious and ambitious to simply settle for inheriting someone else’s kingdom. They wanted to forge their own destinies.”
“Yeah…” I said, the fact that he was speaking of them as though he knew them not really registering in my mind. “We are actually talking about the Romulus and Remus here, right? Romulus and Remus?”
“Yes, Jacob. We are.”
I threw out a finger and pointed it toward the young wrestlers. “Those guys??”
He chuckled. “Those guys.”
“Amazing,” I said in complete disbelief. “I honestly can’t believe it.”
“I could always send you back through the door, Jacob,” Merlin suggested. “I’m sure if you really wanted I could conjure up Helena and Agrippina again as well.”
“Oh, don’t you play games with me, Merlin,” I joked. “Don’t you put something as tempting as that between a man and his need to learn himself some history.”
“I’d never think of it. Believe me.”
I smiled at the jovial tone of our latest interchange, and while I was certain I didn’t trust Merlin even a little, I was beginning to realize that I certainly liked the guy.
“So how do you even know so much about them?” I asked.
“Let’s find out,” Merlin said, raising a hand toward the platform. “Observe.”
By now the two of us were standing just beside the raised platform, which only came up to about my midsection. I was able to see the two young men very clearly now, and I was rather impressed at what I saw. Both men, and I use that term lightly, stood as tall as I and were broad shouldered and very well-muscled. The maturity in their physical form was offset, however, by their very youthful faces, which barely seemed able to grow peach fuzz. But despite this limitation, there was something strangely alluring about the two of them, something charismatic and otherworldly. Even now, as I watched them rise to their feet after one had successfully pinned the other, I felt drawn to them, like I would do anything for them, even if that meant stepping in front a thrown spear for them.
I wondered if such an aura came from simple genetic luck, or if there really was something to the story concerning their patronage, since supposedly the god of war himself, Mars, had been their father.
I turned to Merlin. “There isn’t really anything to that part of the story, is there? It’s just a coincidence, right?”
“Shh,” Merlin hushed. “The best part’s coming up.”
I bobbed my head in a silent apology and turned back to the stage. The twins were on their feet now, the victor consoling the loser while at the same time rubbing it in, just the way I always thought a pair of brothers would treat each other. There didn’t seem any animosity between them or anything that suggested one was capable of murdering the other, even though that’s the way the story continued.
The losing brother looked downtrodden as the victorious one clapped him on the back, sending a wave of sweat to fly out into the crowd, who cheered and roared as the little droplets struck them like it was actual mana of the gods.
The two were shaking hands when a third figure ascended a small flight of stairs to join them atop the platform. He was robed from head to toe, and his face was concealed from view, but when he took center stage, the crowd of manly warriors grew quiet and still. Not a soul stirred or even breathed as the stranger stood above them all, waiting.
I was the only person who dared move, simply shifting my weight off of my left leg to my right, but was quite surprised when the hooded figure seemed to shift his attention directly at me.
I leaned in closer to Merlin and whispered, “I thought they couldn’t…”
“Shhhh!”
I gave him a sour look but did as I was told. The robed man slowly rotated away from me and I let out a thankful breath. As I did, he threw his arms up into the air on either side of his head, causing his loose sleeves to fall past his elbows, showing skinny white arms. A moment passed, but then he lowered them ever so slowly to clasp the hood over his head, and in one quick motion threw it back.
I was almost surprised at who the action revealed.
Almost.
“Hey,” I whispered. “It’s you! I honestly didn’t see that one coming.”
“Shush, Jacob,” Merlin scolded and I wondered what his deal suddenly was.
“Well, at least you aged well,” I remarked, but then closed my mouth. In fact, judging from the other Merlin’s appearance, he hadn’t seemed to age at all. “Or were you just born this old?”
“I will not tell you again to be quiet,” Merlin snapped, so I took the hint. Something stank about this, but now seeme
d like a good time to behave, so I stayed quiet and observed the show.
“A fine match!” The Merlin on stage shouted so that all before him could easily hear. “But as it is with any show of dominance, there must always be a victor and there must always be a loser. In this showing, your victor…” He paused so that he could reach out and grip the arm of one of the twins. He raised it up like a referee would the winner of a boxing bout. “…Remus!!”
A cheer went out from the crowd, but it wasn’t hard to see that only half of those gathered seemed particularly joyous, although unlike a very typical and usually divisive U.S. Congress, it wasn’t like the crowd was distinctively separated in half. And unlike the polite but obviously forced applause that would emanate from the congressmen not actually agreeing with the sentiment announced, even those who were clearly not in Remus’ camp seemed genuinely happy, clapping their brothers-in-arms on the back in congratulation, passing coin money around, and wore proud and happy smiles.
I nodded appreciatively. If these men represented the shepherds turned soldiers that Romulus and Remus had led into battle against their great uncle, then legend had it that half would have been loyal to one brother, and the rest to the other. Yet, there seemed nothing to suggest animosity between the two factions, which reflected the attitude shared between the two brothers themselves, and I was impressed that such a feat was even possible.
Remus raised his other arm and clenched his hands into fists, and punched them in the air victoriously. Romulus, meanwhile, clapped happily and led his men through example by actually being happy for his brother.
Now that I knew the twins apart and had a better look at their faces, details began to emerge.
A Hunter and His Legion (The Praetorian Series Book 3) Page 41
