Praetorian Series [4] All Roads Lead to Rome (14 page)

“No,” Galba said.

“Sir?”  Marcus asked, already stepping up beside his friend.  “But we can…”

“The two of you have spent far too much time with Hunter and his ilk,” Galba said with the shake of his head.  “Surreptitious infiltration missions and clandestine operations will not work here.  We must eliminate Agrippina’s forces through military action and I must take control of the Senate myself and steer it back on the proper path.  Besides, I do not trust them…”

“Take control of the Senate yourself?”  Helena asked, recovering from her momentary detachment from reality.  “Jacob was right after all.  You’re on nothing more than a power trip here.  Just another Julius Caesar hoping to take control of the government for yourself.  You…”

“Silence, woman!”  Galba roared, and he looked ready to walk up to Helena and smack her, but then he must have remembered she wasn’t so easily disciplined and backed down.  “You understand nothing of Roman politics.  Julius Caesar led Rome out of lethargy and corruption, and set it on a course toward great things.  It is not my wish to take control of Rome, but I will do what I must to…”

“What about Vespasian?”  Helena demanded.  “He’s already doing everything he can to hold your vaunted empire together.  Why ignore him and his efforts?  He should be the one to take control from Agri…”

“Because he was the catalyst for all this!”  Galba shouted, even louder than before, and this time he did take a step forward, raising his hand high beside his head to smack Helena with, but she simply stood there, her arms crossed, appearing almost like she wanted him to hit her.  Like she didn’t even care.  But Galba backed down, although his eyes continued to glare at her with incensed frustration.

He took a step back, thought for a moment, and sighed before pointing toward the exit.  “I asked you all here as a courtesy, but as I have now told you all the relevant details you need to know, please leave.  Legate Plautius and I have much to discuss before Legate Saturninus returns.  Our decisions on the matter have been made.”

Helena didn’t even bother to argue as she looked away, frowning, unable to think of anything more to say.  Moments later she slowly marched out of the tent.  Everyone watched her go, but once she was gone, we all realized it was time to do the same and followed. I looked up at John and gave him a quick smile and a squeeze of his arm before I took off to catch up with Helena.  I found her already a few dozen steps away as she walked to her tent, her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach.

I stepped up beside her and reached up to grip her shoulder comfortingly.  “You know… Jacob would have loved the way you started arguing history with Gal…”

“Does it look like I care, Diana?”  She asked, yanking her shoulder roughly to dislodge my hand.  She freed herself easily and picked up her pace, and all I could think to do was stop and watch her go.  She set off with hunched shoulders and a sadness to her step, and I supposed I didn’t blame her.

I watched her go for a few moments before John walked up beside me.  In the time between Helena’s exit and John’s arrival, although it was only seconds, I’d felt more alone than I ever thought I could.  But with John’s supportive presence, I felt comforted again, and that sense of isolation was gone.  No matter where I was or what was happening around me, as long as I had John or the rest of my new friends, I knew I wasn’t alone, and that there was always hope.

If only Jacob had remembered that.

If only Helena could remember that now as well.

I looked over at my loyal companion and scooted closer so that I could rest the side of my head atop his shoulder.  It was an easy and comfortable position, as he wasn’t much taller than me, if at all.

I didn’t want to move for the rest of eternity.

“This is going to get worse before it gets better, isn’t it?”  I asked.

I felt his head nod.  “Always seems to around here.”

“But is she going to be all right?  You know her better than anyone.”

There was a clear moment of hesitation before he answered.  “I really don’t know.  She and Jacob always seemed like two parts of the same person.  You know, perfect for each other, like in a shitty Romcom.”

I didn’t know what that was, but I didn’t interrupt.

“They grew very close over the last few years,” he continued.  “Seriously close.  But they had to in order to survive, I guess.  They’re just that kind of people. 
I’m
not… although their relationship gave me a whole new appreciation of the expression ‘fifth wheel’, but it was okay, because they accepted me.  But they were always together, always with each other, even with that little lover’s spat they had last year.  I knew it would blow over, because it was…
them
.  You know?  But… now?  With the orb?  And the baby?  And with whatever happened that saved Helena’s life?  I haven’t got a clue anymore.  I really don’t.  I don’t see a perfect ending to all this.  I really, really don’t.”

I pulled away and looked at him intently, taking his shoulder in my hand and shook him.  “How can
you
say that?  You’re the one who always find a way to see the better side of things, to be optimistic, and carefree.  You can’t just give up!”

John shifted his feet so that he faced me, and grabbed my shoulders with both hands.  He leaned in a bit and stared at me with wide, sympathetic eyes.  It was an odd expression to see on his face, and I grew concerned in that moment that maybe he was right, that this would all end in ruin, but then a smile crept onto his face, slow to start at first, but ending as wide and gleeful as I’d ever seen before.

“You’re damn right I can’t give up,” he said, his voice confident.  “You see, Artie, you’re missing the point of all this.  The thing is: Jacob and Helena aren’t the heroes of this story… I am!  So don’t worry about a thing.  Of course I’ll fix everything.”

Despite it all, I couldn’t help but laugh as I smacked his chest lightly.  “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

“Fuck no!”  He said as he pulled away but then his smile faltered.  “Although, maybe I’m saying it to make
myself
feel a bit better.  I guess my real point is that we have to stay strong, Artie.  Let’s just forget it about it for now.  I mean, we’re still in Britain.  There’s plenty of time left for things to swing back around and go our way.  Let’s go get some of that deer I heard you bagged and worry about the other stuff later.  Such a turn on, by the way…”

My smile remained and the confidence I felt in my chest grew at his words, words that weren’t contrived and demeaning to appease my worries, but honest and even uplifting ones.  He was right.  Things could still change and hope could return, and it was counterproductive to ruminate on our eventual defeat before the end result was even known.  It was best to focus on what we had now and prepare ourselves for the future, not worry that it was all automatically going to end in disaster.

I wrapped John into a hug just then, feeling that if we were going to make the best of everything as he said, then I was going to do it exactly the way I wanted to, and that meant taking advantage of whatever benefit I had, which included John’s warm, comforting, and way-too-sexy body.  My smile grew at the thought, but when I opened my eyes, I was still able to see Helena far off in the distance, continuing her journey toward wherever it was she was going, and my smile immediately turned to a frown.

Where she was going to find solace, I hadn’t any idea, especially if she continued pushing the rest of us away to focus on her quest to save Jacob alone; a task that couldn’t progress any further or faster than our own to do the same.  I knew I had to break through her shell of self-protection and fear, and reach the loving, kind woman I knew she really was; the woman who would have put all her guns, resigned attitudes, and inferiority complexes aside to be the best kind of mother possible had she only had the chance.

Helena was in there somewhere.  I just had to find her.

If I didn’t, if I failed, when we finally saved Jacob, he might not have the Helena he remembered to come back to, and who knew where that would leave him.

IV

Rubicon

May, 44 A.D.

Northern Italy

Jacob Hunter

“This is the second group since crossing the Alps,” I said, as I manhandled the body of a man and prepared to toss him near his compatriots, four in total.

“Our reputations must proceed us,” Agrippina suggested as she watched the woods for further intruders.

“Yours or mine…” I mumbled, the question an honest thought in my mind.

“Excuse me?”  Agrippina asked, not hearing me.

I didn’t answer as I dropped the body with a squishy thud in the wet mud beneath him.

Spring had certainly arrived, and now that we were in Italy, warm weather had finally returned as well, along with numerous spring storms that had left the area drenched in a steady blanket of rain since we’d arrived through the Alps only a few days ago.  What I hadn’t expected when arriving in Italy was all the trouble we’d found ourselves in, but considering the route we’d taken to get here, I wasn’t overly surprised.

Romans and barbarians alike had long ago learned of accessible passes through the vast mountains that made up the Alps, so our journey hadn’t lasted long or been particularly arduous.  We hadn’t exactly been Hannibal, crossing over the Alps with thirty eight elephants – or was it thirty seven – in tow, after all.  All we had were a few horses, but because we’d taken the safer and more prescribed paths, we hadn’t exactly kept a low profile.

Prodigious in size, scope, and beauty, the Alps could be a great place to hide, but safely crossing them required us to utilize well-used paths that had us meeting dozens of random passersby along the way.  Most had seemed genial folk, probably locals or adventure seekers hoping to scale a mountain or two, and we hadn’t stopped to speak to most and Agrippina had always kept herself concealed behind a veil when meeting new people – even though the chance of one of these people recognizing her was next to zero.

None had barred our passage or had sought to delay our journey, but a few had appeared rather unscrupulous.  I’d taken careful note of each of them, creating a mental encyclopedia of who we’d encountered, tallying swords, bows, daggers, shields, and beards alike – I’d come to realize the more heavily bearded these folks were, the more unlawful they seemed to be, myself excluded, of course.

Yet, despite the tight confines of the mountain passes, with no lodgings available for Agrippina and I to utilize, we hadn’t once been attacked while camping through the Alps.  We’d been allowed to sleep in relative peace, which I couldn’t have been more grateful for, as the cold had returned at the higher altitudes, and Agrippina and I had been forced to sleep in close proximity to stay warm.

It hadn’t been an altogether unpleasant experience, I had to admit.

However, since entering the Italian peninsula, we’d already been attacked twice by roving gangs of vagabonds, a pattern that was quickly seeming less like random assaults, and more like orchestrated attacks.  The first night hadn’t been much of a fight at all, as the small cadre of five armed assailants had crept up on us in a tight clump, triggering the lone claymore I’d kept planted near our camp every night for such an occurrence. 

The blast had awakened Agrippina in a fright and she’d jumped into my arms, but I’d thrown her off me to investigate, pistol at the ready, only to emerge into the cold night air to find five bodies sprawled on the ground, ripped to shreds by the shrapnel contained within the claymore.  It had been my last, the last in all of antiquity as far as I knew, but I didn’t mind using it since it had gotten the job done.

Agrippina hadn’t slept much more that night, but I’d snoozed like a baby, and hadn’t awakened until late in the morning the following day, rested and rejuvenated.

Today’s attack had occurred in broad day light, something I hadn’t expected.

After that first incident just south of current day Milan, I had taken us east toward the Adriatic coast, so as to throw off any pursuers who immediately assumed we were heading to Rome – as most people were in this part of the world.  Now, we were just south of the city of Ravenna, a nice little town with very interesting historical significance that was quite apropos considering our current situation.

But I didn’t care much about history anymore.

The five men had come at us on horseback, swords waving and shields clanking, shouting wildly as they’d galloped headlong at my companion and me.  I remember turning to Agrippina and asking, “I thought Italy was a civilized area where this kind of thing didn’t happen anymore.”

She’d shrugged.  “Bandits and highway men are as ubiquitous here as they are anywhere, Jacob.  Perhaps more so here, as there are individuals of great wealth who travel these roads quite often.

I’d nodded, acknowledging her point, and had lifted my hand in their direction.  “Care to do the honors?”

She’d smiled and hefted the pistol I’d given her, the bad guys still barreling toward us.  “I believe I can hit all but one of them before they are on us.”

I’d unsheathed my Sig P220 from its thigh holster and waved my hand in a
go-ahead
gesture, ready to mop up whatever scraps she left me.  She took careful aim, holding her pistol in both hands exactly as I’d taught her, with the fingers of her left hand carefully wrapped over the fingers of her right, her thumbs pressed together, and fired one round after another, nine in total.

She’d hit three targets multiple times before I’d felt the need to step in and clean things up, which I’d done with cold efficiency, firing only two rounds.  Her wimpy 9mm pistol was fine for delicate hands, target shooting, and was perfectly suitable for police work, but often times didn’t have the required stopping power needed to drop a man surging with adrenaline without multiple strikes.  My sidearm was a forty-five caliber pistol, however, so when I hit something, I
hit
something, and it went down, hard.  It wasn’t exactly Dirty Harry’s infamous Smith & Wesson revolver, but it would do a similar job.

Two rounds were all I’d needed, and the remaining pair of bandits had hit the ground hard with nasty chest wounds.

Now that we were almost finished cleaning up our latest mess, I started wondering if being attacked twice in less than a week in Cisalpine Gaul was something worth noting or not.  Agrippina had certainly had a point that such shady personalities must have been quite common, even in Italy, but that didn’t quell my suspicion that we were being tracked and hunted, although I hadn’t a clue by who.

With the fifth body piled with his buddies’ – a suitable grave for such scum as far as I was concerned – I looked up when a noise off in the distance activated my internal defense mechanisms.  It sounded like a branch breaking, one broken by artificial interference, not through the course of nature itself.  It had occurred about a dozen meters off to my right, in the tree line that followed the road we travelled upon.  The foliage wasn’t dense this time of year, but leaves were returning from their wintry slumber, so visually piercing the trees well beyond the tree line itself wasn’t difficult.  I scanned left and right and back again, searching for the disturbance’s source, but came up as empty as most of the trees were bare.

I glanced away, not bothering to look back.  If something or someone was out there that I couldn’t immediately see, then there was probably little chance I’d ever find whatever it was without abandoning the safety of the road.  Instead, I wiped my hands on my pants and turned around, finding Agrippina standing only a step away, her gun low but at the ready.  She stared at me with wide eyes that still seemed frenzied after the rush of what had happened only minutes ago.

“Calm down,” I said, shaking my head as I returned to Felix.  “You’re going to give yourself an aneurism.”

She skipped her way to catch up, and bounded to a stop on the other side of Felix like an excited kid.  Standing on her tiptoes, she looked at me gleefully over his back.  “It was so exhilarating, Jacob!  I understand now why war is so appealing!”

Busy cinching a strap for a bag that rested on Felix’s rump, I stopped mid-motion and looked at her without emotion.  “War isn’t appealing.  War is stupid.  I don’t deny there’s a rush to it, but don’t get used to it.  I’ve seen what happens to people who embrace it.”

“What happens?”  Agrippina asked earnestly.

I shrugged and went back to work while I answered, hiding my true reason for being by Felix’s side, which was to be close to the blue orb contained within his satchel.  It was times like these when I really craved its proximity.  “Guys who fall deep into the ‘war is fun’ mindset do very dumb things, abandoning everything they once cared for.  They go rogue.”

“I am not familiar with that term.”

I couldn’t help but stop as I tried to tie off another strap, thinking back to the world I’d lost and yet another of its vile eccentricities.  “War was a big deal where I come from.  It was bleak and dire for a lot of people, but for some, it was lucrative and enjoyable.  There were guys I knew who just snapped, their brains functioning so insanely that they literally grew addicted to war and violence. They’d take their services anywhere they could as long as it paid them more than the last guy, meanwhile leaving their sanity behind.  Mercenaries or contractors were one thing, but these guys were literally insane, with zero principles and far more entitlement, thinking themselves gods among mortal warriors, the granddaddies of war.  It was… embarrassing.”

“I see,” she said, her voice suddenly morbid, but then she grew chipper an instant later.  “Do not concern yourself, Jacob.  I am quite ready to do what must be done to see our quest completed, whatever that entails.  I will not… go rogue.”

Finally, I looked her in the eye, and frowned.  “I think you’re ready.  If only all of us were so capable.”  I gave Felix’s ear a scratch and used my other hand to tilt his head around to face me.  “Ready to go?”

He nodded excitedly.  “Of course!  Let’s go, Jacob!”

The other horses neighed and stamped their feet in agreement, but I caught one saying, “I wish Mr. Jacob would ride me for a change…”

***

Conveniently, traveling to Rome in antiquity was about as easy as following a blue line on a smart phone back home – although I was sure plenty of technology-reliant dipshits still wouldn’t have been able to figure it out.  The phrase, “all roads lead to Rome,” was less of an idiom and more an actuality here, as every single one of the well-built Roman roadways, in fact, led to Rome.  We’d been following the
Via Amelia
since entering Italy, but would soon break south along the
Via Flamenia
which should take us directly to Rome.

But first we had to cross a river.

It wasn’t particularly large, or deep, but it was surrounded by pretty country that found the perfect balance between comfort and isolation.  Low hills dotted the surrounding area and our well paved Roman road had just emerged from a forest of trees into a wide open field that looked beautiful in the midafternoon sunlight.

I pulled Felix to a stop on the northern bank of the river, which was only a few meters wide and probably shallow enough to ford if not for the handy bridge constructed along our route.  Closing my eyes to listen to the gentle flow of the river’s current, I waited for Agrippina to catch up.  When she finally did, pulling her horse up beside me, I paid her no mind as I kicked Felix forward again and gave a tug on the pair of ropes behind me to urge my twin pack horses forward as well.  Agrippina, once again, had to take a moment to catch up.

When she did, she looked at me in confusion.

“Jacob, don’t you know where we are?  The significance of crossing this river?”

I didn’t even bother glancing at her.  “Of course I do.  But what the hell do you want me to do?  Say something like, ‘the die is cast,’ and lead an army on Rome?  What’s the point?”

She frowned.  “I simply thought you might want to take some time to appreciate the moment.”

I still didn’t look at her.  “Like I give a shit about sentimentality anymore.  Let’s just get to Rome.”

***

And two days later, I had returned to Rome.

There was no fanfare, no jubilation, no triumph for me as a conquering general who had done so much for an ignorant populace.  No one came to greet us as Agrippina and I stood atop a hill, still quite far from Rome itself, looking upon the picturesque “eternal city” that seemed to glisten in the morning light.

I found myself experiencing an odd sense of déjà vu as we stood there, like I’d been in this very spot before, viewing the same scene before me although changed somewhat.  Remembering my time with Merlin, and the story he’d played out for me concerning Romulus and Remus, it too had started with the two of us on a hill overlooking the spot that would one day become Rome.

A vile taste filled my mouth at the memory, and I spat out what saliva I’d gathered there to dispel the wretched tang.  For all his talk of righting wrongs and returning life to the status quo, Merlin had in fact done the opposite, destroying my life and my humanity in the process.  It hadn’t been the orb that had torn my soul to pieces and left me adrift without any purpose in the world, it had been Merlin.  The orb had in fact
saved
me, giving me the power and the will to do what I had to do, both of which I would have been sorely lacking after what had happened to me in Britain.