• Chapter 1

    It was a cold December. I remember it well; my Penelope was on the farm back at home in Rome. I was on the Gallic front. The battle had ceased . . . for now. A Gallic arrow that had struck him just below the base of the neck had killed my friend, Gracus. That was a grim day of fighting, but we had much farther and bloodier trails to conquer. We had to regroup and recuperate. I remember that Caesar had told us that the main enemy was in Rome itself . . . the senate. He had asked us to follow him . . . well of course we said yes, what else were we going to say . . . he was our Emperor. The fires that night were burning there brightest and it had to be the clearest night I had seen for a long time. "Great Jupiter! I think I can see the Gods themselves!"
    "Yeah, you can." A voice I had heard only moments before suddenly spoke to me. I turned my head and looked in the direction the voice I had heard was coming from. I couldn’t believe my eyes! It was Caesar Himself! But why of all the great men he could be communicating with, why was it I?
    I looked at him in disbelief. "What is the matter? Hades has your tongue?" "N-no s-s-sir" I suddenly realized that I was making a fool of myself. "Sir." I finally had raised the courage to ask him that question. "Why are you talking to me? I am just a lowly Soldier." "What is your name?" he asked. "My name is Julius Prosimii, emperor" Suddenly, he turned to me and spoke. "Julius eh? A good strong name. My first name is also Julius. The reason I came to talk to you is that I want to become your friend." I almost wet my armor when I heard him say those words! "Pardon me, but did I just hear you correctly?" I suddenly realized that the way I said those words was not fit to be used on such a highly regarded political figure such as Julius Caesar. "I am sorry my liege" I said.
    He looked back toward me and smiled. " Oh no need to worry, I am just trying to get used to being like a common soldier." He suddenly straightened himself in a manner which I was wary of.
    " Although I shouldn’t say a common soldier because not one of those among you is a ‘common’ man." He sat on the once green and luscious hillside, which had now been reduced to a smoldering slaughterhouse.
    " How many of you died today would you say?" he said this in such a tone as to suggest that nothing bad happened today and that all of this was a dream and nobody had died.
    “I wouldn’t know sir, Couldn’t have been less than one hundred, and that’s an underestimation on my part.” I replied.
    I started to ponder about everything that had transpired in the past 12 hours of bloody combat. I started to “ Hey Julius, are you awake?” Caesar asked. I started to say no but I realized that would be absolutely ridiculous. ‘What am I doing I should be ecstatic to be able to talk with Caesar himself?’ I thought to myself.
    “Well you’d better get some sleep my friend. We have an extremely busy day tomorrow slaughtering the rebellious Salvaticus, Vercingetorix and their barbarian Hoards!” He chuckled as he said this. I felt as if something was awry. I started to look around me. “Ummm…sir, I need to go check up on my friend’s body” I knew that it sounded kind of doubtful but I had to quickly think of something to say to get out of here. Besides the men were a bit rattled from the bloodshed and I had heard stories of men stabbing and generally despoiling the dead. “Go on then” he said.
    I looked at him closely; he was a semi tall man about 5’10”, a youngish face about his late twenties. I saw his face had a look of sadness contorted with the anguish he must have been feeling. His face was torn by war and politics. His hair was long and the color of an iron mason’s face after a hard day’s work. He was a strong athletic build; his posture showed that he was of the aristocratic patrician stock and that he held his head high!
    Some said he was a god, a descendant of Iulus, but I know for a fact he was a mortal man, a noble man and although his stature and followers made him appear godlike, he was a mortal man none the less.
    The next day, while wiping the fog from my eyes, I could just barely make out the shape of a tall, thin, and scruffy old man in the Praetorian uniform. The man was, as far as I could make out, a centurion, a neophyte, obviously. I rubbed my eyes again just to make sure I had cleared my eyes fully.
    I blinked and looked closely at him again. He was, by the looks of it struggling to get a sense of where he was and he looked as if he was in pain. As I looked even closer, I could just barely make out the blood seeping through the lorica segmentata he was wearing.
    I rose to my feet and shouted for help as I ran toward the man. “Where are you hurt?” I asked him. “The side, just below the lung.” He wheezed. The sound of him was making my heart just sink. He suddenly collapsed and I was aware that his breath was slow and heavy. Men were scrambling toward me and all were wondering what had happened. Samarius, Lucius, and I took him to the military surgeon just down the road.
    Curious, I asked him what his name, rank, and where he just came from.
    “My name, sir, is Lucinius Paris.” He said. “I am a Praetorian Prefect. The rest of the scouts were walking back from the skirmish and scouting the area for more rebels when we were ambushed. We were out numbered and out armored. They came in like wolves. They quickly cut us to pieces!” he let out a wild scream as the surgeon cut open his already infecting wound to remove a spear tip from his abdomen and a sword tip from his chest and breastplate.
    “I don’t know what the hades is taking place, but how an outfit of praetorian Guard scouts could be cut down by a bunch of nomadic imbeciles who are, in the most pleasant words I can find, barbaric monstrosities capable of nothing but the most tempestuous and nefarious acts against the civilized world, is beyond even my vast knowledge!” shouted Lucius.
    “Yes, and they are just a pack of Philistines! Uncouth flagitious ruffians!” added Samarius.
    “Well,” I sighed, “we’d best start figuring out what course of action we should take, after we get this poor man fixed up, if that is at all possible doctor?”
    “Yes he should be able to fight soon enough. He’s from a very strong stock I should imagine.” replied the Physician.