Author's Notes
Hi to everyone!^^
With this story I wanted to give a plausible answer to a question that I personally asked myself since the first time I starter reading GATE's novels: why is the Empire so similar to Rome?
The answer, or my personal one at least, will come with this collection of four short stories. Eacth story will be made of five chapters and settled during different periods of the Empire's history, from its first moments till the moment it became the Empire as we know it.
I'll try to be as relevant as possible with the original novels, just consider that Origins will be a prequel to my personal trilogy named Gate - Another (which however is thought too to be a more than plausible spin-off to the original Gate)
Well' I suppose that's all!
See you soon!^_^
Cj Spenceer
ACT I - ORTUS
1
There was nothing to do: the battle was simply lost.
All around them, entire legions were falling like thousands of mosquitoes, wiped away without mercy by the Carthaginians and their allies, the same tribes and city anciently spared and peacefully assimilated by the Republic and now turned against it at the first occasion.
Lucio looked in all directions, hoping with all of his heart to see the vessels or hear the horns calling the retreat, but nothing was happening: and in meantime, the encircling was proceeding, at the point that now there was only a small pathway between them and the sole hope for salvation.
Even if they were just rearguard, the battle at that point was less than fifty meters far from them, and the legionaries had to keep their shields endlessly raised to the sky to protect themselves from arrows, stones and all other things the enemy was launching against them.
Those idiots of the high command had accepted to fight despite everything, almost sure that their superior numbers and best knowledge of the battlefield were more than enough to assure victory: apparently, none of them had learned something from the battle along the Trasimenum, and now they were about to pay.
The Carthaginians' plan was obvious: note a single Roman had to escape from that trap.
The sole idea of being forced to see his soldiers massacred and slaughtered like pigs was more than what he could support.
«Lucio!» shouted at his side his trustworthy and loyal second in command Demetrio. «If we stay here, we're already dead! Where the fuck is the call for retreat?»
However, he didn't know what to think, or even what to do: he was just a centurion, he had no power or title to call a retreat by himself, and doing it was more than enough for an accusation of desertion.
«By Heracles, let them crucify me!» he finally said throwing away all fear and doubts. «Unit! Fall back!»
«Did you hear him?» Demetrio said again. «Retreat! Retreat! Remain in formation and fall back!»
Then, the almost one-hundred and fifty soldiers under their command started retreating, leaving behind the few of their companions still alive, poor souls destined to be their salvation by opposing one last stand against the enemy.
Lucio's centuria stepped back fifty meters, only occasionally attacked by some disorganized enemy units quickly neutralized by the well-trained and disciplined veterans placed on the frontline and along the flanks.
Then, once left the ring right on time before it was closed, the unit turned their back to the battlefield and started running, taking advantage from the fact that the Carthaginians were too much occupied in slaughtering the now fully entrapped Romans to take care of the few ones that had been able to escape.
But maybe Gods had chosen that not a single Roman had to survive that battle. A small group of equestrians of the enemy's rearguard suddenly appeared from behind a low hill, and when they noted the retreating column, they immediately charged.
«Defensive formation! Protect the flanks!» Lucio shouted immediately reaching the frontline.
The legionaries immediately regrouped, rising their shields to form a wall against the enemy and trying to think that survive against that charge meant to survive the entire battle and return home.
Lucio commanded to stay put until the equestrians were close enough, then he gave the order.
«Pilum!»
A rain of lances was thrown against the enemies and many of them, particularly among the Numidians of the light cavalry, fell from their horses and died mortally wounded; the others kept on charging, but by the time they finally reached the unit, Lucio and the others were ready to repel them.
Even if the Gauls following Hannibal were proud warriors, there was nothing they could do against a well-disposed Roman unit, but they had to hurry: the Carthaginians wouldn't take long to find them if they stayed there.
Following the moral code for a centurion, Lucio was fighting side by side with his soldiers, trying as possible to arrange things so that the ones in the first line were able to switch with the others behind them, so that the Gauls had always to fight with fresh and rested enemies.
Demetrio was not far from him, almost at the center of the formation, and unfortunately, that's where the enemies were putting most of their force in attacking. A breach suddenly opened when some of the Gauls successfully killed some of the Romans before others could take their place, and the half-Greek second in command found himself alone before knowing, with his left flank completely uncovered.
«Watch out!» Lucio shouted noting before him an equestrian charging right against him.
Without thinking twice the centurion left his place, and once recovered a lance from a dead enemy, he crossed almost the entire unit, reaching his friend right on time to pierce the Gaul right in his neck. Unfortunately his horse pranced, violently hitting the centurion in the process. The young men saw the word spinning around him and turning red due to the blood that falling from the wound on the head was entering in his eyes, and before knowing everything became dark.
«Lucio!» Demetrio shouted seeing him fall to the ground.
Like many other times, once again Lucio's dreams were filled with shadows, ghosts and visions.
In his almost seven years as a soldier, he had seen the worst thing, but nothing was like being forced to revive that cursed day: the day when had seen his beloved Giulia die in her arms.
They were both little more than boys when they chose to get married, and Giulia was neither fifteen when their first child, Marcus, was born; everything was going so well, so perfectly. They were happy, he had a fine career in the Army in front of him thanks to his good relationship with his Commander: but Gods sometimes can be really cruel.
Lidia's gestation had been difficult since the beginning, and ultimately led to Giulia's death immediately after her birth.
And that was the worst nightmare for him: being forced to revive both the birth of his daughter and the death of the his beloved wife.
Lucio saw her suffering during childbirth, and painfully push Lidia in his arms a second before dying, leaving him devastated by a pain that his newborn daughter was unable do relief.
Then, he woke up.
And the moment he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw wat the roof of a wooden building. He took a bit to remember what was happened, and the moment he understood he was still alive he looked around in search for answers.
Judging from the voices coming from the opened doors, he was still among Romans, and for now, this was more than enough to be satisfied. He was lying on a cot, with the head firmly bandaged, in what seemed being an impromptu field infirmary filled with wounded soldiers.
Everything was still confused due to the headache, at the point that when Lucio tried to get up he felt so much pain that he had to lie down again.
«Centurion!» said a familiar and friendly voice.
Lucio turned to the entrance, and a wave of joy filled his chest when he saw Demetrio taking seat next to the cot.
«Demetrio…»
«Do not force yourself. The surgeons said that you've been incredibly close to meet Caron. That horse has almost opened your head in two.»
Lucio then tried to look all around again, but the memory of the battle quickly came back to his mind.
«The fight! The unit!»
«The unit is safe. Shortly after you fainted, the enemy has retreated. We lost less than twenty soldiers.»
«Where… are we?»
«In Canusium*.»
«Canusium?»
«Yet. We met another retreating column after the battle and went here. You were very bad wounded, but the guys insisted to keep you with us.»
«So… they truly did it…» Lucio said in relief. «How many times I spent fainted?»
«You slept for almost three days. But given the circumstances, you've been lucky. That horse could open your head. Your helmet has been almost broken in two, and the surgeon had to put a metal plate to close the hole in your head.»
«This is the second time I save your butt, Demetrio.» Lucio said with a smile. «You should really learn to look after yourself.»
«Don't worry. I'll try to repay even this one at the first occasion.»
Then, they vigorously shook hands.
«Thanks, Lucio. Now I owe you my life even more.»
«Don't worry, my friend.»
Suddenly, three soldiers entered the barrack and stopped right in front of Lucio's cot; one of them was a high officer, and judging from his eyes, surely he wasn't there to award him.
«Centurion Primus Pilum Lucio Sannino?»
«It's me.»
«I'm Tiberio Sempronio Gracco, our Dictator's Quinto Fabio Massimo's Magister Militum**. I'm here to question about the battle you and your unit survived in Cannae.»
«It's been a massacre. That's all I can say.»
«I heard you gave the order to retreat while the battle was still on course.»
The sense of that question was more than eloquent, and his Greek blood almost made Demetrio get up from the stool to answer him properly, but Lucio went before him.
«The battle was almost completely lost. The enemy was just a couple of lines before my unit, and behind us the encirclement was almost completed. I waited till I could, but at the end I had no choice but to order my men to retreat while we could.»
«I understand. So you received no order of retreat by your officers, neither you saw or heard any sort of signal or horn.»
Lucio was well aware that he was condemning himself, but there was no use in lying.
«No, sir. I did by on my own.»
The Magister made a sinister smile, then he turned to his minions.
«Arrest him.»
The Senate's hall was empty, but Consul Marco Claudio Marcello's words were more than enough to fill it with fear and desperation. At that point, there were no more doubts: Rome was facing the worse tragedy in its history.
«For now, the reports speak of no less than fifty thousand dead, of which no less than half among our army.» Consul read in the report, and each word was like a stab in the back for his chief and friend Quinto Fabio Massimo. «The Carthaginians made ten thousand prisoner approximatively, especially among the third, the sixth and the ninth Legion. Consul Paulo has fallen in battle, as well as almost twenty influent senators voluntarily enlisted for the battle.»
«By Minervae, this is some sort of tragedy.» said the aged dictator. «What about Hannibal and his forces? Are they heading here?»
«Not for now. The spies report that Hannibal's main army is still camped around Cannae. But we received confused reports about an expedition sent against Brundisium*** and other Apulia's cities. Probably he's trying to gain a complete access to the sea, from which he'll be able to receive further reinforcements from Africa.»
A discomforted Fabio Massimo fell on his chair and closed eyes, almost in a vain attempt to believe that it wasn't happening, and all that mess was nothing but a nightmare.
«I will not lie to you, my friend.» Marcello said. «It will be truly difficult to recover from such disaster.» then he paused for a moment, as if he was scared by what he was about to say. «At this point, we must begin to consider seriously that the Republic might not survive this war.»
Hearing this and imagining what his Consul was thinking to, Massimo felt a wave of vigor exploding again in his chest.
«This is out of question! We have already discussed about this! It would be like admit defeat in front of these barbarians!»
«With all respect my friends, there are moments when we must simply put apart our pride, and start thinking of what we can do to try to salvage as much as we can.»
The dictator temporized, nervously turning his Family ring around the finger.
«If someone should know it…»
«No one will know it. If we still succeed in reversing the tides of the conflict, this story will be simply removed from the pages of our history. But if our time has truly come, at least we'll die knowing that Rome will not die with us.
You should consider this carefully, my friend.»
A discomforted Massimo looked to the ground, unable to make a choice: as a Dictator, his first duty was to assure the Republic's salvation, but at the same time, as a man and a Roman, he simply couldn't accept that he had to die knowing that nothing of his civilization would remain.
«This could require a lot of time.» he said as if he was trying to find a justification. «And now…»
But before he could say more, Marcello took a wax tablet from inside his toga.
«Not necessarily.» he said, handing it to him
Massimo read it, but what he saw made him even angrier.
«What's the meaning of this? I never approved such thing!»
«The Senate did it, when they understood that you was too scared to act.»
«This is high treason, you fucking…»
«It's time to put apart pride and honor Massimo! It's the same survival of our own civilization to be at stake!»
That was true. And it was perfectly useless to try deny it.
«And what about the detachment? We don't have soldiers to waste at now.»
«We trained a selected legion in secret. It should be more than enough for our purposes.»
«I understand. And I suppose you have someone in mind for the command already.»
«Actually… yes.»
Lucio didn't expect nothing different.
He knew the consequences of his decision even before taking it. After all, rules were clear: retreating or falling back without a clear order from a high officer was like desert, and for a deserter the pain was to be whipped and crucified.
At least, by placing all responsibility on himself he had been able to avoid the same fate even to his seconds in command and other petty officers of the unit, but now he had to pay the price of his choice.
While closed in that tiny cell, he kept on thinking to his son and daughter waiting for him in the Aventino; with the prison ruler's authorization he had already sent a letter to his sister in law, praying her to keep on caring them as their adoptive mother, since there was no hope for him to return alive.
Now, everything was in the hands of the Gods, and the thought that he was about to reunite with his beloved wife was the same thing capable of giving him a bit of hope.
For days, he spent all time praying Mighty Mars to forgive him for his cowardice, Wise Minerva to intercede for his soul's safety with her noble father Jupiter, and Lord Pluto to let him see Giulia in the afterlife. However, days and night kept on passing, and no one more came to take him to lead him at the scaffold: maybe they wanted to inflict him one more pain by making his mind break due to the tension.
But it would've been useless: he had already seen too much horror, so there was no hope for his mind to break for such a small thing.
Then, the seventh day, he finally heard the guards on the other side of the wall making his name, so he immediately kneeled to pray for the last time.
«Lord Pluto, I entrust you my soul. Please, be merciful, and let me see Giulia just once when I'll be in your realm. Then, I'll be completely in your hands. Mighty Mars, once again I beg your pardon for having turned by back to the battlefield. I did it only to save my soldiers, so that they could keep on fighting in your name. Punish me if you think I deserve it, but please be merciful with all those young soldiers, that accepted to escape with the sole purpose of being able to offer you more blood and flesh in the battles to come. Wise Minerva, as you did with Ulysses, please pray in front of all Gods for my soul's safety. In swear that my sons will offer you rabbits, doves and lambs for ten years in exchange for your mercy. This is mi vow, Wise Minerva.»
«Centurion Lucio Sannino, stand up!» suddenly said the guard while opening the door of the cell.
Lucio obeyed and turned, more than sure to see him followed by a couple of legionaries ready to lead him at the forum for the execution; instead, he found himself face to face with the most unexpected person he could imagine.
«What a strange place to find you again after so many years, Centurion.»
«G… General Massimo.»
«Consul Massimo, if you can.» said the aged soldier while smiling. «There's been a few changes after our last meeting.»
«I… I'm sorry!» Lucio said immediately standing at attention. «I'm sorry, Consul! I beg you pardon.»
«At ease, Centurion.»
«Centurion Sannino.» said the guard. «From now on, you're put under Consul Massimo's authority.»
«Your… authority!?»
«Did you hear him? Come on, follow me.»
At that point, a more than stunned Lucio followed Massimo outside the prison, and once outside the young centurion found the place pervaded by the most absolute confusion, a clear sign that probably Canusium too was about to be evacuated.
«What's happening?»
«The Carthaginians are sieging Brundisium and other cities of the coast, and since when the news of the disaster in Cannae has spread, the entire Apulia has started uprising against us. Orders are to abandon Canusium and relocate closer to Rome. Meanwhile, I'll lead an expedition force against the Greek cities in Sicilia. If we succeed, we'll have deprived Hannibal of a certain number of powerful allies.»
«So we too are moving?»
«Not exactly. Before heading south, I have one more thing to do in Rome. And fortunately, someone has been smart enough to warn me of what was happening.»
«Wait. You mean that… you was searching for me?»
«We'll talk about later. Come on, follow me.»
Then, Massimo leaded Lucio at the stables, where a couple of warhorses were ready for them.
«Change your clothes.» the Consul said while throwing away his armor and toga and replacing them with the poor tabard of a farmer. «It's better if they don't understand who we really are.»
«What!? But… I don't understand.»
«It's not difficult. We'll travel alone, and it's become quite dangerous out there, especially if you seems a Roman.»
«Alone!? You mean… no escort!?»
«You'll understand at the right moment. Now move!»
Even if he had no idea of the reason for all that secrecy or what was happening, Lucio chose to trust the same General for which he had fought so much battles and obeyed.
Then, once completely transformed, the two Romans left the stables, immediately jumping on their horses.
«Come on, let's go.» Massimo said, and they both headed toward the northern door.
Notes
*Canusium: Today, Canosa di Puglia
**Magister Militum: A Dictator's lieutenent entrusted for all military affairs
***Brundisium: Today, Brindisi