Author's Note: As I have noted at the very beginning of this story, these are not the people of twenty-first century Middleton. The mindset is different, never more than in this chapter. I don't feel that this will shock any of my regular reviewers, but others may want to keep this in mind.
17. For Ronicus!
Rome
Senioris rode up slowly to the Western Gate of Rome. His weathered face smiled as the gate swung open to admit him and his escort. He turned slightly to Junuris, who had the olive branch tied to his lance.
"After Cannae, they would not even allow Carthalo to enter the city. Perhaps they are ready to listen to reason."
The streets were deserted. Only squads of legionnaires met them as they made their way to the Temple of Bellona, where the Senate met to discuss issues of war.
A legionnaire took the reins from Senioris as he dismounted before the Temple. He scowled, but Senioris could feel the fear radiating from the man. With an easy smile he walked on, Junuris behind him.
The assembly area of the war goddess's temple was not nearly as crowded as one would have expected. But then the Senate had taken fearful losses to its own membership in this hopeless struggle. Junuris turned his head to see a younger Senator holding a cane in his right hand. He stared at the man.
Senioris stepped into the center of the room. He bowed with careful ceremony. This was a day that would be remembered for the next thousand years, he would not be less than perfect in his duties.
"I bring salutations from my General, Hannibal Barca of Carthage. He wishes to express his admiration for the valiant efforts of the People of Rome. Efforts which have added great honor to your name: if at a terrible cost. The time has come to end this destructive conflict before it claims the life of yet another brave young Roman."
"We hold Ronicus Stoppabullus, who with his companion the Masked Warrior of Mystery, have caused us some concern. That is no longer the case. Ronicus is ours, and the Masked Warrior is powerless without him. We are positioned to attack Rome, and our mighty cavalry has cut you off from any chance of reinforcement. However, we have no wish to destroy your beautiful city."
"We only wish to begin negotiations to draw this war to an honorable conclusion. In that vein, Ronicus will serve as a hostage. Once we have concluded a peace accord, he will be released to you, to be honored for the courageous young man that he is."
There was no answer from the Senate. There was not even movement.
Senioris stood for a few minutes, drinking in the silence. Finally his eyes glowed, and his body trembled.
"This is all so USELESS! You send your bravest to meet us in hopeless battle, and yet will do nothing when they fall into our hands! We only want what is rightfully ours, what we have earned time and again in open combat."
The senior member of the Senate rose. "This war is not ended, Iberian, but this meeting has. Return in safety to your Master."
Senioris glowered at the old man. "I shall set a tent on the hill outside the Western Gate. We will wait there until sunset. Should no one come to treat with us, Ronicus Stoppabullus will die come dawn tomorrow; and his city will join him by sunset!"
He turned on his heel and walked out. Junuris turned to follow, his eyes on the young Senator until the last possible moment.
Hannibal's Camp
Oh, my head.
Ronicus started to rise up, but nausea rolled over him in a wave. He clung to the earth until the urge to throw up subsided. An eye opened, but the light coming from the tent flap sent pain lancing through his head. He screwed his lids shut. Then intolerably loud voices thundered outside.
"I know you broke it, Eddorix, but that doesn't mean that you can have it. This is not a stall at the market. Because Hannibal needs him in one piece right now! We'll see about it later. Yes, in a fair world you would have first claim, but it isn't a fair world now, is it? You two just wait out here."
The rustle of fabric, the clink of jewelry, caused him to grit his teeth in pain. Then cool fingers brushed his hair away from his throbbing forehead. The touch calmed him.
"Wow, he did break it. I should have checked on you earlier. A little longer…"
A song began. It was as soothing as a gentle spring rain. The nausea receded, the pain ebbed. He lay still, like an infant listening to a lullaby. All too soon the song ended.
"Can you sit up?"
She took his hand and he sat up. "You must be hungry."
Now that the pain was gone, Ronicus considered the missed meals. No time to order at Bene Kebob last night, the missed breakfasts, at home and Villa Possibilla. He also guessed that it was well past morning. That was four at least, he was starved.
He nodded, and Shegovia snapped her fingers. Two Gallic women came in. One carried a tray with a steaming bowl and a loaf of bread. The other held a jug and cup. They set them down before him. He stared.
"Oh come on. Would I heal you just to poison you?" Shegovia took up the spoon and ate a bite. Then she poured a drink and took a long swallow. "See? It's all just fine."
Ronicus needed no further encouragement. He took up the spoon. "Hey, this is really good!"
"This is Hannibal's main army—elite down to the cooks."
Using the bread, Ronicus cleaned out the bowl. Some more color returned to his face. He looked up at Shegovia. "What happens next?"
"That depends on the Senate. Senioris is in Rome seeking to negotiate now."
"Then I'm in trouble. Rome doesn't negotiate, she dictates terms."
"I guess it's all up to the Masked Warrior then. She won't let anything happen to you without a fight."
Ronicus frowned. "She? MW is a guy!"
Shegovia could not believe her ears. "You too? Is everyone blind? Wait, you've never seen the Warrior without the armor have you?"
When he shook his head, she snorted. "Even with the gear, how can't you tell? How about the eyes? Haven't you seen those eyes somewhere before?"
"I'd, I'd really rather not talk about the eyes."
"I'll tell you where you've seen them. At the Villa Possibilla: they're Kimora's."
"Now I know you're wrong! MW and I rescued her from you."
"I admit that had me confused for a few days, but then, she has to have a trainer. An Amazon maybe, there are still some around. A mask is pretty effective, when men refuse to look past it."
"Well, I know all about KP. She is definitely not the Masked Dude."
Shegovia sat crossed-legged across from Ronicus. She leaned forward. "I have plenty of time. Why don't we talk about your Kimora? Tell Shegovia everything."
Villa Possibilla
The family waited for Father to return from the Senate. Lamps were burning, and a cold supper sat uneaten on the table. No one spoke. Only servants moved.
At long last they could hear the chariot pull up. There was the tapping of a cane. Not the usual jaunty rhythm, but a slow, sad pace. The step of a man weighed down with care and sorrow.
A servant opened the door. Father walked in. He stood erect. His face was the picture of stoic composure—until you reached his eyes.
Olivia saw those eyes. She went to her husband. The cane clattered on the floor as they embraced. Her shoulders shook, and he held onto her like a sailor would to a mast in a heavy sea. Finally she stood at his left side supporting him.
The children approached. His eyes looked upon them.
"We have readied the defenses of the city as well as we could in the time allowed. As for Ronicus." He took a deep breath, "His actions have been declared...an act of Devotio. May the people of Rome never forget what he has done for them, and may the gods look with favor upon his people."
"You mean, Ronicus must die?" the twins wailed.
Father's eyes flashed. "Jimulous! Temus! There will be no tears! Only boys cry, and tonight in Rome there are no boys, only men! Some are merely younger that others. The two of you will be charged with defending the villa tomorrow. We all know of your skill with traps. Before I leave in the morning I shall inspect your work, see what you have in store for any unwelcome guests."
Kim walked up to her Father. "Father, I, I must cry."
He held out his right arm, she fell into his chest sobbing.
"Of course." He whispered. "This wicked world would have burned ages ago but for the tears of women. You are yet a maiden, yet come the dawn your heart will be widowed. And your Mother and I will mourn the loss of a young man who is more of a son than an neighbor to us. A young man who would have made a fine husband for our daughter: an excellent father for her children."
He cupped her chin in his hand and raised her face. "Your Mother has known for years. I guess in some part of me, I was also aware. I foolishly tried to ignore it. One cannot fight fate."
"But Father, we never discussed Ronicus. To be honest, we seldom discussed marriage at all. He was at nearly every breakfast, and half our suppers."
"How do you think I won your Mother?" He smiled. "I've called Ronicus many things over the years, but I never called him a fool."
"And now, I must call him 'hero' in the truly awful sense of the word. I trust everyone has eaten? If not, do so now. Have some food and wine sent to the study. I must see to my sword and armor."
"Caius?" Olivia looked at him.
"There are enough older Senators to look after affairs. I can lean on my shield: I can still wield my sword. I shall be inside the entry way of the Western Gate along with the other cripples. No running or charging, only stand until victory is won."
He smiled sadly. "Should anyone need me I shall be there, or at the shrine, asking the household gods for guidance or those of Ronicus for…forgiveness."
The twins handed him his cane. He kissed them all in turn. His kiss to Olivia shocked the children with its passion. Then he was down the hallway, with that slow, sad tap.
The family ate without words. Mother soon left for the Temple. There would be prayers until dawn, and after that as well. Nana had been there all day, and would probably remain. The children went to their rooms.
Kim locked her door. She all but ran over to the dresser. The hidden compartment opened under trembling hands. Wadeamedes please…
Her own letter still lay there. Just as one did in every drop point in town. She had left them when she had returned to the city, and had checked every place once movement was allowed again. There was no reply to her simple plea.
Write to me, Wadeamedes.
So you have also given up. It is hopeless then.
She looked into the mirror. Tears formed in her eyes. "Foolish girl." She whispered to her reflection. "To try to play at being Nana before the Lion! A man who holds the standards of more than a dozen legions in his bloody hands! All you have done is doom your city, your family, your people, your love."
Ronicus will die tomorrow. No power will change that. There is but one thing to do.
Kim went to her hope chest. She took out the jewelry that Cataline had fussed over so merrily a lifetime ago. She would wear the green chiton I wore this the time he held me. Next came her Mother's wedding veil, the one she was now never to wear.
It will be ruined. But no Gallic or Carthaginian woman will parade around in this.
She reopened the hidden drawer. In a compartment behind it was the first gift from Wadeamedes. It appeared to be a dagger with a broken blade. She removed the shard, gave the tiny wolf head a twist. An obsidian blade shot out with the speed and power to cut through the strongest leather. No metal was sharper.
This will do.
Sitting at the dresser, she began to comb her hair. All had to be perfect. There was plenty of time. I must wait, after all. To go first would be presumptuous, selfish. This is for him. It is an act of love, not despair.
She made sure the safety was on. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes, and slowly placed the hilt against her throat. The throb told her where she should hold it when the time came. There will be a rolling of drums, then a blare of trumpets, that is the Carthaginian way. They will let me know when.
"ARE YOU GIVING UP!?!?"
Kim whirled around in anger. There were the twins facing her from inside the room.
"Dweebini!" She chocked tearfully. "Why are you in here? How are you in here? The door is locked."
"We got in the way we always do. Whenever Wadeamedes has a message for you." Jimulous shrugged.
"Wadeawho?"
"No time for games, sis." Temus shook his head. "We just got this for you."
Kim grabbed the note. She tore at the seal. "I can't believe that he has you Dweebini working for him! The war must be making everyone desperate."
Kimora:
Sorry this is so long in coming to you. I've had everyone working since you came back, so there was no way to get this to Jimulous or Temus.
Jimulous snorted. "What do you think? That he has a machine to think for him? To do things for him? It's a huge organization. He has people all over Rome. Spies, smiths, inventors."
"Like us." Temus said proudly. "The return winch in your vambraces? That was us."
"And all the training traps." Jimulous added.
"The traps? You mean he knows about them?" She almost smiled.
"He knows of them." Jimulous was suddenly evasive. "He has no idea of how much we have done to make your senses and reflexes so sharp. All he said was 'keep her on her toes.' We like to think we've done our bit there."
"More than your bit." A smile came to her as she read the note. Hope returned, and Despair was routed before her advance. "It will work, if he is right, and is he ever wrong? I'll need help, but I know just where to find it."
SPQR
Centurion Marc Barcus sat in the entry room of his small house. He had not been making anything up those months ago when he spoke of heroism. Only you and your thoughts. But battle, can you really call it that? Cadets against the finest mercenaries and most savage barbarians the Mediterranean has to offer, led by the most brilliant general since Alexander the Great!
And where they have us stationed, the most inaccessible section of the wall. The right choice, of course; it's where I would have placed us. But it means that if we do fight, then the battle is already lost. We'd be pulled down to defend some side street or temple. The junior class has not even had hand-to-hand training yet. Brickus and the seniors have had some, but can they take anyone with them?
There was a knock at his door. He had been expecting this. A cadet, no doubt, scared of what was coming; needing to talk to someone besides family. Well, his sword was honed to perfection and his armor was polished beyond reason, he had nothing else constructive to do.
He opened the door. The Masked Warrior of Mystery swept past him.
"You."
Kim turned to face him. "The Senate may leave men to the enemy, but is that the way of the Legion?"
"What are you saying?"
She stepped forward. "That I have a plan to save your student, Ronicus. But I need help, and it's help that you are better able to provide than anyone else. I need your cadet class."
"My class?" he was dubious. "What can my class do that experienced legionnaires can't?"
"Drive chariots. And as I'm sure you're aware, you have the area of the wall least likely to be attacked. An area that the adjacent units can cover in your absence."
"True, it could be held by five drunken Gauls." Barcus put his hand to his chin. "So you need my entire class?"
Kim nodded. "Plus two more."
"Which two?"
"Monique Ptlomey and Bonillia Rockwallerus."
"The girls? What for?"
"They will make it a total of forty-four counting us. I have twenty-two chariots, and they are your best charioteers."
"True." Barcus brought his hand up to his square jaw. "Monique is a natural, and Bonillia has a way with dumb animals. Look at her fiancé."
Kim smiled behind her mask. She had never heard Barcus speak unguarded before.
"Of course, with forty-four, I guess we won't need Possibillis, especially since…" he was much faster than Kim ever would have believed possible. He grabbed her arm with his right hand, and his left hand shot up to the crest of her helmet. He pulled.
"She's here already!"
Kim gasped. "I am the Masked Warrior! You have to believe me!"
"Relax, Possibillis, I believe you. I knew it for some time. I just had to be sure."
"How did you know?"
Barcus set her helmet down. "Three reasons. First, the javelin. That throw was by someone with extensive training. Then the chariot ride: only a master charioteer could drive that poorly and yet everyone emerged unscathed. Finally it's in your blood: like grandmother, like granddaughter."
"You know about Nana too?"
"It's more like I know about you also. Her story is what made me consider you from the start. I'm not the first Barcus to see the Masked Warrior face to face. My Father was a shave-tail fresh out of cadet school in the First War. He was left for dead after a skirmish in Sicily. A group of Carthaginian cavalry were out to finish the job, when the Masked Warrior appeared. The Warrior fought them off, but took a lance in the thigh in the process."
"For the next month they made their way back to Roman lines. When her wound became infected, my Father cared for the Warrior, and learned her secret. She swore him to secrecy, an oath he honored to his pyre."
"Then how do you know?" She was afraid that Barcus would be offended at the question, but he gave no sign.
"He told no one, but it was too great a secret to keep to himself. He wrote of his adventure, and sealed the scroll in the wall in the bedroom. I found it when I had to repair the plaster after an earthquake. I committed the story to memory, and burned the scroll. When I die, his oath will truly be honored."
"So you see I'm not that amazed to have you standing here in front of me. Ronicus does surprise me though. I had hopes for him, tried to egg him on. Some cadets need a sandal in the rear. Evidently he didn't."
"Now he needs help, can we count on you? We have everything we need but the troops. You can give us that."
"But aren't you forgetting, we need one more thing."
"What?" Then she saw him glance over her shoulder.
"Permission."
Kim covered the lower half of her face with her hands as she spun around. There in the doorway stood Young Scipio. He was in full regalia: muscled cuirass, greaves, crested helmet. He stood arms akimbo, his cloak over his elbows. He blocked up the entire door. Looking over his shoulder, he called out.
"Back to your posts, men. I can find my way back from here." When the sound faded, he stepped inside, closed the door and locked it.
"Centurion Marc Barcus, raised in a camp. Can't close a door to save his life." Young Scipio looked straight at Kim.
"This is not some adventure of two children. The cadet class has been called up by the Legion. If they are not at their positions at dawn, they will stand accused of deserting their posts in the face of the enemy. Your friends and class mates could face decimation. These are hard times; saving Ronicus, saving Rome, may not be a sufficient defense at a court martial."
I can't fail now, not after coming so far. "But Scip, b…"
Young Scipio's face darkened. "Don't." Then he relaxed. "Centurion! I need paper, ink, a stylus and wax."
"At once, sir!"
Barcus went into the back. Young Scipio came up to Kim.
"When I said you were a mystery, I never dreamed it would be this deep! The Masked Warrior of Mystery; a legend of my Father's time reborn. The face of a goddess, the heart of an Amazon, what a prize you are! And I cannot claim you, for Ronicus indeed won that duel. I could see it in your eyes when you thought I would stop you. I heard it in your voice when you prepared to offer your hand to save his life, and saw it on your face when I gave you the needed order."
He put his hands on either side of her head, and kissed her forehead. "Should the time come that the Fates turn on you, as they so often do on heroes. If you find yourself old and alone, just remember, that once you were loved by two men of Rome."
Barcus returned with the needed materials. Scipio quickly wrote out the orders. "Now get this to headquarters, Centurion. We need to brief these youngsters as soon as possible."
Hannibal's Camp
The staff stood with their General around the table. After so many years, orders were hardly necessary. Still, Hannibal never left anything to chance.
"So as you see, the requirements of the weapon will cause our attack, and the preliminary…ceremony, to be delayed until the sun rises fully over the city. Still, with the weapon, we shall be through the Western Gate in the early morning, and should reach the citadel by the evening. Are there any questions? Marharbal?"
A lean cavalryman nodded. "I have never questioned your plans, but here we are placing so much reliance on a weapon whose earlier models have all been failures."
"True." Hannibal agreed. "This one, however, has certain enhancements, compliments of another of Archimedes's eureka moments. Once we have completed this war, the prototype will be sent to Carthage for analysis and duplication. That man should really take notes!"
"Anyone else? All right, to your tents, get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long and memorable day."
Shegovia stood at the entryway as the officers filed out. Mago flashed her a smile. Senioris was less friendly.
"You know, you need to tell Pops that we don't need a chaperone." Shegovia leaned back against the table. "After all, we are two very consenting adults."
"He's been a second father to us, especially Mago. On some things he just won't take orders." Hannibal shrugged. "Now for the second briefing. Have you reviewed my security plans? Are they adequate for tomorrow?"
Shegovia nodded. "Between the special forces and myself, MW won't stand a chance."
"MW?"
"The Masked Warrior. Sorry, I spent much of the day with Ronicus. He uses a lot of initials. MW, KP, you want to know what he calls you and Mago? The BBs! Barcid Brothers. I like it, I like him." She sighed. "Too bad about tomorrow."
"Did you learn anything else? Anything that will be useful tomorrow?"
"The Masked Warrior will attack; her heart will not allow anything less. It will be brave and romantic and suicidal."
Hannibal walked over, placing a hand on either side of Shegovia on the table. "You still insist that the Warrior is the Senator's daughter? Despite the evidence?" He laughed as he leaned forward.
"You have a Roman's stubbornness."
Shegovia leaned back, cocked her head to one side. "An insult? Interesting opening move, General. The next move had better be…"
"Shiny?" Hannibal pulled out a golden cloak pin from a rolled up map on the table. Its head was set with two stones of matching size: emerald and onyx.
"I was going to say subtle." Shegovia purred. "But shiny will do well enough. Briefing is over, time for orders."
"Shut up and kiss me."
Lucius Quinctius Cincinatus High School (Elephant Awareness Week/ Classes Cancelled: Hannibal ad Porta!)
The cadet class had finished listening to the briefing. Forty boys and two girls. Brickus was resplendent in new mail coat and officer's helmet. A few others had their own armor, but most like Barcus had predicted were equipped as velites by the city. They had a simple helmet covered with a wolf pelt, a round wooden shield, a short sword and a small bundle of javelins.
Bonillia wore an ancient Samnite trefoil breastplate. It offered adequate protection, and excited the admiration of the boys around her with each breath. Monique as always was in a class by herself. Her corslet was of multi-colored metal scales, and her gold plated helmet was shaped like a hawk, the down swept wings forming the cheek guards.
Young Scipio looked over the youngsters. "Now is the time for stirring speeches. I have come to despise men who give speeches, then don't lead. Since I won't be going, all I will say is may Mars strengthen you, and Minerva guide you."
He stepped down, and Barcus took the stand.
"We go to rescue a comrade, the noblest thing one can do. I know that you are nervous, it's only natural. I don't ask you to be fearless, only to do your duty. Follow your orders, help your friend. Do that and you'll do more than gain success, you will have deserved it."
"Everyone, mount up!"
Kim jumped up into the chariot beside Barcus. No one moved.
"What's going on?"
"They're waiting for you to say something, Warrior."
"Me?"
"They know who the real leader is. Now, inspire."
Kim turned to the chariots behind her. She raised her hand in salute. "There is a new battle cry for today—For Ronicus!"
"For Ronicus!"
With that the gates opened, and they were off.
Notes
Devotio--literally, an act of self-sacrifice. Very rare.