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Chapter 5
Sons of Mars
"And the fourth kingdom shall be as strong as iron,
inasmuch as iron breaks in pieces and shatters everything; and like iron that crushes,
that kingdom will break in pieces and crush all the others."
– Daniel 2:40
The sound of trumpets, drums and pounding hobnailed sandals, seemed to vibrate the streets of Jerusalem, as though shaking the core of the land itself. Roman soldiers were marching. And not just marching, they were thundering through the city with voices raised in military chants in their native Latin.
Two aquilifers, their helmets covered in wolf and tiger skins, bore the eagle standards of the Roman legion at the very front lines. They were followed by two signifiers, proudly carrying the signum of their century. After them, marched the trumpeters and the drummers. Next were the three youthful looking tribunes from the equestrian order, parading on their fancy steeds. After them, came Titus, the centurion in charge of his 80 men. He led them astride his snorting stallion, who pranced with a high-stepping gait and swaggering carriage. The great procession seemed to ignite Argento's fiery spirit, which made his master smirk in amusement, but nevertheless he held the eager steed back.
This was a carefully coordinated display of Roman power, in order to set fear inside the hearts of zealots and any other rebellious groups arising in Judea. Although, Titus wondered whether it would do much, considering the stiff-necked population of this pest-infested province.
Over the course of mere two months, the rebel Barabbas seemed to have gained a lot of supporters and following. Every day, it seemed, at least 20 men joined his cause. Pilate was on edge. The Jewish festival – Passover – was just around the corner, in a fortnight to be precise, and the city was overflowing with pilgrims. It was absolutely imperative to keep order. And what better way to achieve that than by a spectacle of the fierce Roman legions, serving as a reminder to not overstep boundaries?
"Per aspera ad astra! Per ardua ad astra!" The soldiers were chanting as they paraded by the ancient temple of the God of the Jews. "Exurge Mars, Mars Ultor! Roma et Imperator!"
The crowds had come out to gawk. Everyone had stopped whatever they were undertaking in the city to watch the awe-inspiring procession of their occupiers.
Truly the sons of Mars were on the move and while Titus, never really considered himself as a devotee of the gods, he certainly felt the power of Mars upon him. If there was a god to be worshipped in the all the Empire, it was indeed Mars, deserving all the tribute. After all, had he not made his sons the conquerors of the world?
Or perhaps, the gods had nothing to do with it at all. Perhaps, as the Stoics suggested, it were mortal, yet great men…men like Julius Caesar and the divine Octavian, also known as the Augustus, who brought glory to the eternal city that was Rome? Yes, that sounded far more probable to a skeptic like Titus than a foreign notion of the gods. There were so many of them, it was hard to keep track! But he would certainly never rule them out. It was in his blood to serve the deities of Rome. But if a higher power truly existed, it was Rome herself and her relentless warriors, conquering the ends of the earth.
"Viribus unitis! Semper fidelis!" As they sang, they marched toward the upper city, where the palace, constructed by Herod the Great, stood upright, gleaming in the hot, afternoon sun. For the upcoming festival, it was being occupied by the provincial governor – Pilate. That very morning, he had pronounced judgement on the two thieves, Gestas and Dismas: they were to be crucified. Only the gruesome punishment would take place after the Passover, but general Vitus had advised Pilate to allow Titus and his centuria to parade the criminals around the city. This would not only frighten and discourage the rebels, but they hoped it would appease the Sanhedrin.
Annas and Caiaphas, the high-priests, were mortified when they found out that the thieves had been responsible for one of their elite members' death. According to Menelaus, they had not only complained, but also threatened Pilate. Everyone knew that Pilate was rapidly losing favour with the divine Tiberius, after the execution of Sejanus. The head of the Praetorian guards was the one who had appointed Pilate as the governor of Judea, when Caesar had left him in control of the administration of the Empire. His sudden fall from power, arrest and execution, had increased Pilate's fears. If officers like Titus were aware of the political turmoil within their government, he was certain so did the scheming high-priests of Jerusalem, especially someone as crafty as Caiaphas.
As the mighty entourage passed through the crowds, showing-off the beaten, convicted criminals in chains, Titus was unable to miss the look of hatred in the eyes of the citizens. The women were mostly scared as they hid their little ones behind their long skirts. The elderly regarded them with scorn, trying to seem unaffected, but Titus could see that the fear was there. But it were mostly men, who looked upon them with open hatred, bitterness and anger. They knew they were powerless in the face of such military discipline, but the loathing was still there. In fact, even the Pharisees, Sadducees and the rest of the Jewish leaders seemed appalled at the sight. Titus guessed, that given the choice, they would much rather prefer to see all the 'pagan, Roman dogs' slaughtered instead of the two thieves.
The mighty cavalcade marched through, continuing their chanting as they neared the busy markets. The throng of multitudes of people parted, but there was nothing reverent in their body language. They simply stood immobile as statues, glaring in hostility at the Roman force, while sending pitying looks at the two thieves.
There is no end to the idiotic ways of the Jews! Thought Titus as he fought the urge to roll his eyes. The heat intensified. The scorching sun blazed on their armour, called the lorica segmentata, while the red capes flowed in the hot breeze. Titus could not wait for the parade to be over, so that he could take off his crested helmet and cool off in the shade somewhere. The military dogs were viciously barking and lunging at anyone, who tried to get too close to their procession. Just another form of intimidation. Titus noticed that his optio was barely able to hold back the lashing dog.
The population of Jerusalem was indeed surging. The people had arrived from every coroner of Palestine, or as Jason and the Jews still insisted on calling it 'Israel'. There were also visitors from Greek cities. Perhaps, Hellenised Jews? There were even Syrians, Egyptians and Arabs present. Needless to say, Jerusalem was a vibrant city, filled with individuals coming from all sorts of cultural backgrounds.
It was not difficult to understand why the general had suggested to make a show of the Roman power. It was a perfect way to remind everyone who was really in charge.
"Viribus unitis! Semper fidelis!" Titus proudly joined in the chorus at last, relieved that the cavalcade had finally turned back to the Fortress Antonia. "Sumus filii Lupae capitoliane!" His patriotic heart soared. He may not be fond of the army, but at times like these, he felt lucky to serve as one of the centurions in the Tenth Legion. It was exhilarating being part of the might of Rome. "Viribus unitis, semper fidelis! Sumus filii Lupae capitoliane!"
Just as the entire parade was leaving the busy streets of the markets and the people slowly began to shift from their rooted spots, something caught Titus' eye. Or rather, someone. Someone very familiar. A humbly-dressed man was purchasing a pair of figs from one of the Syrian merchants. Titus was certain that he knew the man. Staring over his shoulder, his neck almost twisted as he scrutinized the humble Jew. Why, that was the blind Joel from two days ago! The very man that Jason's sharp-tongued Venus had protected from the charging Argento.
In truth, there was nothing unusual about seeing him in the markets. When patrolling the city, he often ran into familiar faces. But then again, these Jews all looked the same. Perhaps he was mistaken? Titus shook his head, blinking to focus his vision. No, it truly was Joel! What surprised him greatly, however, was not the fact that it was Joel's recognizable, short, stocky stature or the exact same tunic he wore the day Titus first met him, but the way he carried himself! It seemed as though he could see everything. He was no longer blind!
Presently this so-called 'blind' Joel was examining colourful materials and moving about just like every other healthy person, giving not a hint of his previous physical deficiency. That snake! Anger gripped at Titus as he clutched his fingers on the leather reins. Had the man lied to him that day? Did he fake blindness to escape his wrath? But then why would Abigail affirm his sightlessness if he was nothing but a fraud? Was she in on his little schemes too?
The questions overwhelmed him, but he knew he could not slow the procession, so he heeled his horse and continued onward, yet he glanced in the Jew's direction couple more times, his neck becoming slightly stiff from having to look over his shoulder so much. As soon as the parade would make it back to the garrison, he would gallop to the markets again and woe to that fool if he had truly deceived a Roman centurion!
"Asinius! Where are you off to in such a hurry?" The demanding voice of the primus pilus halted Titus as he was about to remount Argento. Turning to face him, the younger officer greeted the senior centurion of the first cohort of their legion in formal salute by hitting his breastplate.
"I thought I would make rounds in the markets. Make sure everything is under control."
Severus, the primus pilus in the garrison, was unable to retain a smile of admiration from his features, though it faded just as quickly as it had appeared. In spite of the young man's unapproachable attitude, which caused intimidation but respect among the men, Severus liked the consul's noble son. There weren't many young patricians, who served with so much efficiency, valour, strength and discipline. Most of them did not even know how to fight.
But Titus Asinius was the embodiment of the true Roman warrior. Hard, detached, responsible, powerful, of noble blood, cool in the face of pressure and absolutely relentless. He possessed all these admirable qualities, and was not yet thirty. While all the other older officers in the garrison loved the charismatic Jason, Severus found Titus more intriguing. He was the true son of Mars. The senior centurion had known all along that if anyone could apprehend those thieves, it would be Asinius.
Crossing his arms, he spoke with authority befitting his position, yet there was gentleness in his eyes. "Why, you have not yet returned from parading in that scorching heat and already you are running back. You earned yourself a rest… or does the Judean sun suit you?" He teased.
"Nothing about this place suits me," replied Titus in full honesty, once again reminded of how much he missed Rome. "I simply need to ascertain something, that is all."
"Of course, if you think it necessary," nodded the primus pilus, saluting him and was about to withdraw when Titus stopped him with his question.
"Have you seen Jason Visibullis at all?"
"The young Visibullis was conducting drills with his men since the early dawn, though I admit, I have not seen him afterwards. The prefect did mention that his son was off duty and had gone home, but I could be wrong."
Of course, Jason would rush home every chance he'd get. He barely had time for his friends anymore.
Nodding, Titus thanked Severus and swung on his loyal stallion. Saluting again, he galloped off to the markets in search of Joel.
It had not been challenging to locate the Jew at all. He was exactly where Titus had left him half an hour ago, weaving through the merchants and buyers and looking at the stalls of goods in awe, as if seeing them for the very first time. He was extending his hand and touching fabrics, muttering things in his native Aramaic. He lifted his eyes to the sky, exclaiming something about 'Jehovah' the god of the Jews.
With a swift motion, Titus dismounted his horse and marched toward him, resolved purpose highlighted his steps. Everyone went out of their way to avoid the striding Roman solider, but Titus ignored them. He kept his focus on its target.
"Joel, is it?!" He roughly grabbed the man by his tunic, swirling him round to face his fiery glower.
The man trembled in fear, confusion filling his eyes. "I've done nothing wrong, Roman. Please, let me go," he pleaded, switching to the common-tongue – Greek.
Titus ignored the accented implore of the Jew and gritted through his teeth. "Nothing wrong? You lied to a Roman centurion!"
"I would never. I have not a clue, who you are, sir," cowered Joel, shaking all over. "I respect the Roman law–"
"Silence!" Titus raised his hand impatiently. "You deliberately stood in the path of the Roman horse, not even shifting to step aside in respect and on top of it all, you dare have nerves to make up a pathetic lie about your blindness? Because of your idiocy a pregnant woman almost got hurt! Or was she in on it, too?" That last thought, fuelled his temper more. Would Abigail stoop so low?
"Oh, I remember you now!" The man announced, a realization crossing his countenance. "You are that noble, kind, young Roman from two days ago, who stopped his horse in time and even went as far as to aid Jews. You helped us up on our feet. I am forever grateful to you and lady Abigail. You both saved me."
"I was under the impression you were blind!" Titus seethed, under the blazing afternoon sun.
"Oh, but I was, lord. I was until yesterday!"
"What?" Titus snapped, slowly releasing the man from his hard grip. "How is that possible? What nonsense are you spewing, Jew? Answer!"
"I was healed, my lord."
"Healed? From blindness?" Titus raised his eyebrows with a skeptical sneer. "If I were you, I would come up with a better lie."
Joel nodded in understanding. "Yes, it is quite unheard of. Is it not? But then again, it was nothing short of a miracle."
Miracle? What in tarnation? Titus did not reply, instead he waited for him to continue.
Joel got the hint. "You see, sir, the One they call Jesus of Nazareth healed me."
Titus furrowed his brows in confusion. "The Galilean Teacher?" He had heard strange claims about that man before, but still. It was quite jarring. He had not given the Nazarene any thought since last year at Jason's house, when Abigail demonstrated her knowledge and education by explaining the concept of the 'Son of God'.
"Yes, the man of God. The prophet…or perhaps, something more!" Joel looked elevated.
Like...the Son of God? Titus wanted to dismiss the man's claims as another Hebrew superstition, but he was unable to bring himself to fully embrace it. Joel seemed so genuine. And there were enough rumours circulating which backed up these ravings. He did not get a chance to make a response, however, because the call of his name made him jerk his head back.
Apidius, with his light, curly hair and tall, lanky frame was rushing toward him. "Titus, thanks be to the gods, I have found you!"
Titus forgot about Joel, who took the opportunity to slip away from the uncomfortable situation, and turned to meet his comrade. "What is it?"
It was evident Apidius had run full speed without any breaks. He was gasping, but the desperation in his features outweighed his desire for water to quell his thirst or his exhaustion. "I received news from Helen of Troy and-"
Titus' cold glare halted his narration. He was far from amused. There was certainly no time for stupid jests! "Helen of Troy? Am I missing something? I did not realize we were recreating Homer's Iliad."
"Oh, that's what Menelaus calls his favourite harlot. I do not know her real name, but she sent a message. Apparently, our foolish friend has once again gotten himself so intoxicated that he is unable to leave the harlot's home. We must drag him out."
"By Jupiter and Mars!" Fury swept Titus and he looked ready to hunt down Menelaus and run his gladius through him. That foolish Greek! "Should he not be on duty? In Pilate's palace?"
Apidius' usually gentle expression was strained. "Hence the gravity of the situation! He has not been on duty since yesterday evening. I fear, his senior officers may notice his absence and who knows, what may happen to him? I wanted to get Jason, but I was told he went home to his wife and Lentulus said he was unavailable. Besides, he swore he would not lift a finger to help drunken Menelaus again. He thinks he's done enough for him and has warned him on numerous occasions–"
"So, you came to me?" Titus cursed, huffing in annoyance. "I thought I made myself clear. I have no patience with Menelaus when he is in such a deplorable state." What a disgrace to the Roman army!
"Please, Titus," implored Apidius. "He is our friend and Jason would be terribly grieved if something were to happen–"
"So then, get Jason!" Why should his late afternoon of leisure be interrupted by an intoxicated fool that was Menelaus, while Jason was comfortably resting in his home, next to his Venus? Truly, ship to Rome could not arrive soon enough! "Or do it yourself!"
Apidius whined like a pup. "But I won't be able to heft him. We, each have our talents, and lifting heavy, drunken men, isn't mine." He added innocently.
The irritation grew within Titus, but also amusement began to gleam in his fierce eyes. "And it is mine because?"
"You are the strongest, of course!" Apidius jabbed him on the arm and winked. "Look at those defined muscles. No one exercises as much as you. Why, I bet you could lift–"
By the gods! His patience was running out. "Enough, flattery, Apidius." Titus rolled his eyes. "You sound like a fawning amoratae. Let us go!"
Yes, indeed…his ship to Rome could not arrive soon enough.
The military chant sung in Latin by Titus and the parading soldiers is called "Sons of Mars" by Farya Faraji.
Here are the lyrics with their English translation:
Lyrics in Classical Latin:
Per aspera ad astra, Per ardua ad astra,
Exurge Mars, Mars Ultor,
Roma et Imperator,
Viribus unitis, Semper fidelis!
Sumus filii Lupae capitolinae!
English translation:
Through hardships to the stars,
Through adversity to the stars,
Awake Mars, Mars the avenger,
For Rome and the Emperor,
With forces united, Forever loyal!
We are sons of the capitoline Wolf!