The Last Roman (Praetorian Series - Book One)

by Edward Crichton

  “You know,” she said in between breaths and lip locks, “I still haven’t properly thanked you for taking care of me.”

  I smiled, and pushed her gently away. “Now, that, you definitely haven’t been cleared for! Let’s not push it.”

  She smiled back. “You’re such a tease.”

  “I know. It’s why you love me,” I answered, getting to my feet. “Come on. We’d better make sure Santino hasn’t choked on an olive or something.”

  “We do?” She asked.

  I chuckled, gripped her hands again, and slowly pulled her to her feet. I handed her the cane fashioned for her, and held out my arm for her to rest against as well. We walked out of the room together to find Santino, feet back on the table, trying to toss olives into his mouth. Judging by the body count on the floor, he hadn’t been very successful.

  Putting his boot back on, he jumped to his feet when he saw us. “Finally! Let’s go. I’m starving.”

  I shook my head. “Just so you know, I’m not going to let you crash on my couch much longer. You need to find your own place.”

  “I have one,” he said, information that I unfortunately already knew, “but your place is cleaner.”

  I shook my head, and looked to Helena for support. Over the past few months, Santino hadn’t just been freeloading, but helping care for Helena when I had to do things like sleep, eat or other daily necessities. Needless to say, she didn’t hate him anymore, and with a heart of gold, could never force him to leave, even though he had a perfectly fine place right next door.

  She shrugged at me and smiled.

  My shoulders slumped. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend and my girlfriend actually happens to like you,” I told Santino. “When does that ever happen?”

  He smacked me on the shoulder. “Couldn’t have happened to a better guy. Now. Can we please go?” He asked, moving towards the other side of Helena and taking her other arm, tossing her cane on my couch.

  “Seriously, Hunter,” she said. “I’m starving!”

  I sighed, completely defeated. “All right. At least this should be an interesting evening.”

  Interesting? Maybe, but I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.

  Reclaiming an empire, even when you were the legitimate sovereign, wasn’t an easy task. When we had marched into the city, there were small pockets of resistance of little consequence. Stubborn senators with delusions of grandeur and dreams of a seat on the throne, defended their lives with hired servants and slaves. These were the men who had probably planted the seed of rebellion in Claudius’ mind to begin with, unaffected by the orb, their own egos fueling their quest for absolute power. Any remaining Senator who couldn’t prove his loyalty was likewise crucified next to their Praetorian allies. As for the orb, it was history. It was taken to an undisclosed position by Varus, and he hadn’t told us where it was. No one knew where the second one was either.

  The next step was a conscription, which was basically a list of names, and if yours was on it, you were a free target for any legionnaire, bounty hunter, or civilian alike willing to sell your ass to the State. Any and all assets were to be seized and your life forfeited. Dictators like Marius and Sulla had abused the process to eliminate those disloyal to them, but Caligula only targeted those directly involved in the plot. Almost a fourth of the Senate was rounded up and crucified, order had been restored, and those who remained would think twice before ever crossing Caligula, especially with his devoutly loyal Sacred Band by his side.

  Finally, where the patrician families of Rome suffered, its lower classes prospered. After the siege, Caligula ordered immense grain supplies to be imported to the city from neighboring towns. Each were completely willing and happy to help. Some plebian families even found their way into new found wealth and power. Those who had rallied against Claudius during the siege were commended, and some offered vacant Senate seats, and with it, the honor of citizenship.

  To further benefit the people of Rome, Caligula had proposed plans to erect a stadium of epic proportions, one that could hold immense gladiatorial fights, races, and naval battles, all for the viewing spectacle of the people. It had been an idea whispered in his ear by Vincent, along with a suggested location, right in the vicinity of my current home. Caligula thought it was a good idea, and promised those residents they would be moved to better homes, and recruited a young, upstart architect to begin planning its design, with a start construction date in a year. The original Colosseum’s architect was lost to history, so for all I knew, Caligula’s chosen man may very well have been the actual designer, recruited decades earlier.

  Vincent would never learn.

  So that was that.

  Rome was under control and with its rightful ruler popularly and sanely in place. The rest of the empire’s knowledge of the incident was reduced to mere rumors spread by traveling citizens. Santino and I had accepted Caligula’s offer to remain as bodyguards for him, as did Helena, who would join us when she recovered. It wasn’t so much a bodyguard position, but as agents he could call on for “special” assignments.

  It was the best posting I’d ever had because Caligula hasn’t asked us to do anything yet, except for the occasional appearance in the Curia, dressed in our full military gear. The rules of the pomerium were restricted to swords, spears, and shields, so our rifles fell through a loop hole that allowed us to carry them.

  Caligula was also sympathetic to my desires to care for Helena, and knew three would be better than two on any assignment he sent us on. With that in mind, he told Helena, on one of his occasional visits, to take her time healing. Other bonuses included our housing assignment, an income that easily put us in the equestrian class, those wealthy Roman businessmen who weren’t part of the patrician senatorial class, and invitations to numerous dinner parties, most of which Caligula himself invited us to.

  Which is where we were headed now, only this one wasn’t hosted by Caligula, but by his sister.

  Agrippina.

  I hadn’t told anyone about what I saw that day Santino and I were captured. About how she had possibly set us up, and how she had been present at the moment we were captured. The evidence was circumstantial, as Claudius could have been lying about sending her as a messenger just to get a rise out of me, and I still couldn’t be sure it had actually been her smooching him after I had been hit over the head.

  Besides. Who would I tell? Caligula wouldn’t believe me. He seemed completely secure in the notion that Agrippina was a sweet little angel, and now a mother to boot. If I told Helena, she would have crawled out of bed, dragged herself to Agrippina’s home, and ripped her throat out with her bare hands. While the latter outcome was somewhat appealing, I couldn’t condemn someone on circumstantial evidence alone.

  So, arm in arm, the three of us slowly made our way to the Domus Augusti, where Agrippina had taken up residence with her brother. Passing through the familiar gate, and two familiar Praetorians now back in their traditional white togas, we made our way into the house of Augustus.

  While, it was no longer the same house Augustus had built after Bordeaux had destroyed much of it; Caligula kept its original name, a tribute to his great grandfather. While the exterior had been reconstructed beautifully by Claudius, Caligula removed every piece of callous art he had adorned it with. The end result was the same kind of austere, yet beautiful home it had originally been. Met at the door by a house slave, something I’d never get used to but could do little to change, we were escorted through the house and into the dining room.

  The room was devoid of any modern semblance of formal dining accoutrements or ware. Instead of chairs, there were low couches arranged in a U, with tables laid out in front of them. Lying on couches while eating dinner was every lazy man’s dream, and after experiencing it a few times, I never wanted to go back. All the Romans needed was a television with some Monday Night Football, and life would be complete.

  We mingled with increasingly familiar people. I chatted with Varus whil
e Helena and Santino struck up a conversation with an off duty Quintilius and his wife. We didn’t have too much time for small talk as Caligula and Agrippina arrived only a few minutes later. Once they were announced, we made our way to the dining tables and got comfortable.

  Agrippina seated herself at the head of the table with Caligula and her young son, Nero. Santino, Helena, and I were seated at their right, a place of honor, Varus and Quintilius directly across from us to their left, with the rest of the guests scattered throughout the couches. As soon as everyone was settled, house slaves were called to bring forth various dishes of steaming delectables.

  The dinner had been delicious, and the evening fun. Chicken, beef, vegetables of all kinds, grains, and fruits for dessert, it was a feast fit for kings, and I wondered how these Romans stayed in such good shape eating so much all the time. I already felt my waistline beginning to tighten and I had to promise Helena that I’d hit up the Campus Martius next week for a workout.

  With dinner completed, the evening slowed down to alcohol induced conversation. I found myself pretty drunk, lounging on my back, and munching on fruit Helena was playfully lowering into my mouth. She told me to close my eyes while she found something new to feed me, and as a result I felt a syrupy liquid spill down my chin. I opened my eyes to see Helena pouring honey from a cup. I laughed and knocked the cup away, gently pushing her into Santino. He was talking to a young, pretty, Roman woman and glared at me when Helena interrupted his conversation. I couldn’t help but laugh again as I rolled onto my back and Helena moved to lie next to me, her head on my stomach.

  I stared up at the ceiling feeling drunk, glutinous and happy for the first time in years. The world I had left had been filled with nothing but war, one that had no end in sight. Albert Einstein once said, “I know not what weapons World War III will be fought with, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones”. He was probably right, and I knew it was only a matter of time before someone started the chain reaction that would end it all. Ancient Rome, however, I knew had a future, and maybe with my help, a better one. We’d done too much to the timeline as it was, so there was no sense resting on our laurels now and not trying to help.

  A future aside, it was also the first time since I was a kid I could honestly admit I had everything. With Helena at my side, my best friend Santino at my back, and the emperor of Rome as my employer, I couldn’t find much to complain about. I sighed, laid back, and drank in the moment.

  It wasn’t until I heard the innocent giggle of a small child that I remembered life was never perfect. Out of the corner of my eye I saw young Nero on the ground in a corner. I also saw a dozen attendants playing with and spoiling him right in front of me. It gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Friends and family,” Caligula suddenly announced, struggling to sit up on his couch, arms spread at his sides to maintain his balance. “I am so very glad you could join my sister and I for dinner tonight, and a wonderful dinner it was, I might add.”

  Many of the guests offered their own positive sentiments to Agrippina, as though she had anything to do with the actual cooking of the meal.

  “I, myself, am not quite finished,” Caligula announced, slurring his words drunkenly, still munching on part of his entrée, “but I have an announcement to make. A very important one that will affect the continuation of my imperial reign.”

  I glanced over at Santino and Helena, the latter’s expression looking confused, while the former was still trying to cop a feel. I gave her a shrug. I was beyond making predictions based on historical precedence at this point.

  “My lovely sister and I have been discussing events at great length, and I have come to a decision. I hereby announce that due to my lack of children, as of this afternoon and recorded in my living will, Agrippina’s son, Nero, will succeed me as Caesar in the circumstances of my death. Should that happen before he reaches the age of fourteen, Agrippina shall rule in regency till the day he is.”

  There was a chorus of applause and adulation from the guests present. As for me, my jaw practically hit the floor. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After all we’d gone through and all we’d changed, establishing Caligula as potentially one of Rome’s greatest emperors, Nero would still take over and ruin everything. I looked over at the young child, and even at six months of age, I saw the beginnings of the man he would become, the servants continuing to pamper and spoil the boy.

  I looked over at my two companions, who were just as confused as I was, but obviously not truly grasping the implications. Even Varus, sitting across the table from my position looked as confused as the three of us. If he didn’t know, this must have been a recent decision.

  I looked back at Caligula, heartened by his vitality and youth, knowing it would be a long time before Nero could actually become Caesar. Caligula was so much more popular and protected than ever, it would take an act of the gods to bring him down. I laid my head back down against a couch cushion and continued to stare at the ceiling in comfort.

  I felt myself falling asleep when I heard the clatter of a plate beside me. I peeked through my right eye and saw Caligula eating a small, dark brown mushroom from the plate that must have fallen to the floor in his drunken stupor. I sniveled at the sight as mushrooms were never my favorite. Something about eating fungus bugged me. They always seemed to…

  My train of thought stopped as a word association sprang to mind. Something about Caligula and mushrooms should have been important to me, but I was too drunk to remember. Claudius. Mushrooms. Caligula. Agrippina.

  Poison.

  I tried to get up and warn him, but my mind and body were too slow. I watched as he took a bite, glancing at it curiously, but pleasingly, before his eyes tightened in confusion and concern. He dropped the mushroom and his hands grasped at his throat while a white, frothy substance foamed at his mouth. Most dinner guests were still elated and discussing Caligula’s announcement but when he fell to the floor and convulsed from a seizure, every guest rushed to their feet, and ran to his side.

  All except Agrippina.

  She was still seated on her couch, looking down at the emperor’s shaking form, but only for a moment before she turned her head to look right at me. A slow smile crept across her face, and I thought I saw her shaking slightly in laughter. I looked back at Nero, and back at her, whose smile broadened just slightly before she turned back to Caligula, now in horrified sister mode.

  “What’s happening to him?” Helena asked, bewilderment in her voice.

  “We have to go,” I said. “Now.”

  “What? Why?” Santino asked, looking from me to Caligula and back and forth.

  “Come on!” I almost yelled, grabbing Helena and helping her off the couch. Pulling her close to make a quick getaway, I was about to start announcing politely that we were leaving, but realized everyone’s attention was elsewhere. Only Varus, holding his friend and emperor’s head in his arms, paid us any attention. He looked angry, but he knew as well as I did that fingers might soon be pointed in our direction. His look suggested he felt we were innocent, but I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was that in a place like Rome it was best to avoid getting caught than to stick around with even the slightest bit of suspicion directed towards you.

  I nodded to my friend and hauled Helena out of the room, Santino catching up to help me with her.

  Not even to the house gate, realization seemed to dawn on her. “We didn’t actually change anything, did we? What you said before. About fate finding a way to set things straight.”

  I thought about it.

  It made sense. With Claudius out of the picture, the only logical thing for fate to do was to have Agrippina rule while she waited for Nero to turn fourteen. She had practically ruled alongside Claudius anyway.

  I thought about it.

  No, I couldn’t buy that. I wouldn’t. There was no way some natural force controlled the outcome of all living things. I had free will. I had a choice. I controlled my own
fate and so did Agrippina. We had to stop the madman I knew Nero would become from ever taking the throne. For all I knew, the current situation would make things far worse than I could possibly imagine.

  “No,” I said, thinking hard about what to do. “We’re fucking changing things.”

  I sifted through every shred of knowledge I had about ancient Rome. There had to be something we could do. Both Caligula and Claudius may be dead, and with it Rome’s chances of a bright future, but there must be someone who can help. I cross referenced as many dates, names and events as I could in my mind to try and find someone.

  I could only think of one man. Only one man in the entirety of the Roman Empire could have a positive effect on the course of history. He was the only one because he’d done it before. He’d taken an empire on the brink of collapse and realigned it back towards greatness.

  Vespasian.

  COMING SOON

  Keep reading for a brief snippet from the next book in the ongoing Praetorian Series: To Crown a Caesar.

  Sometime in the future…

  It took us about a week, and a dozen pointed fingers, but we soon found our way to the enormous legionary barracks that was the army’s camp. To say it was huge was an understatement. It sat on the west bank of the Rhine River, and was called Vindonissa. It was built around the birth of Christ, and has since been called home by the Legio XIII Gemina, and if history was at all accurate, the Legio XXI Rapax should have just moved in. Along with Galba’s Legio XV Primigenia and Vespasian’s Legio II Augusta, that accounted for four of the six legions meant to embark on the campaign.

  It would be a difficult nut to crack as all that firepower would make sneaking in a challenge. Santino’s UAV would have been helpful for advanced recon, but it was no longer available so we’d have to reconnoiter the camp the old fashioned way.