Note from Kanuro5: This is the long chapter of doom. I'm sorry if it's a little long but it's all for the sake of drama and characterization. I'll try to keep my chapters much short from now on. Hope you enjoy it!
II
In the Shadow
The last ray of sunbeams from midday shined through the curtains of Proculus' bedchambers and hit him in his closed sleeping eyes. He instinctively began to toss and turn in his bed until he rolled out of his bed and hit the floor like a falling tree.
As his eyes began to crack open, he began to groan and grunt as he groggily climbed back onto his bed. He sat up on his bed and slowly stretched out his arms and back.
At the peak of his stretch, Proculus' head began to throb as if it had been split in half by a sword. Proculus grabbed his throbbing head and noticed that his left eye wouldn't open.
He tried to open his eye by using the muscles in his eyelid, but to no avail. He then used his fingers to pry open his eye, but was met with pain and sensitivity every time he touched his eye. On top of the splitting headache, a sensitive eye, a nauseous stomach, he could remember very little of last night.
"What happened to me last night?" he muttered to himself while clasping his head in a futile attempt to nullify the pain in his head.
He ran his hands through his hair and sighed out in strong pain. He noticed that his breath smelled musty; a combination of morning breath, sour wine, and a little bit of spoiled food. Proculus decided it would be best to wash his mouth; and what could be better than to wash one's mouth than with wine.
"Euphatos, wine," Proculus called for his body slave while extending his hand out waiting for a cup of wine. But no cup was delivered to his hand.
"Euphatos, wine!" Proculus shouted louder with his hand still out. Proculus sat on the edge of his bed and refused to turn around until he received a cup.
Proculus heard footsteps behind him and the pouring of liquid into a cup. A filled cup was placed in Proculus' hand and Proculus took a careful sip of the cup. Once the first few drops touched his tongue, he spat it out and examined the cup and realized that it was filled with water.
"Damn you Euphatos! I requested wine, not water! Where is the wine?!" Proculus asked as he threw the cup of water on the floor.
"Your belly contains the sum," Lucius voice rang out from behind.
Proculus casually turned around and noticed his father was behind him holding a jug of water glaring at his hung-over son in disappointment.
"Oh, morning father," Proculus said with an honest smile.
"Morning? I ask for a son and the Gods give me a comedian," Lucius laughed darkly as he raised his head to the ceiling.
"Comedian? What jest did I make?" Proculus asked as he raised his eyebrow on his good eye.
"That it is already midday and you rise late!" Lucius snapped at him. "Take jug and drink water for the entire day! You shall no longer be presented wine in this house!"
"But father!" Proculus argued as he bolted up but quickly stumbled as he tried to get his footing. His father extended his arm and caught Proculus and pushed him back on the bed.
"Wine has become your weakness and you shall be parted from it!" Lucius condemned. "Your absent of footing is evident from last night's immorality!"
"What brings you to say such things?" Proculus genuinely asked.
"You have no memory of last night? This is what your fancy for drink has cost you!"
It then dawned on Proculus of what happened last night. He remembered his friends coming over, he remembered the stealing of his brother's money, he remembered the whorehouse, he remembered the whore he slept with, and then he remembered his father's presence. Upon remembering everything, Proculus' eyes widen and he began to suck his teeth in embarrassment.
Lucius read his facial expressions like a map, "So memory finally fills empty skull huh?" Lucius sarcastically asked his worrying son. "So Proculus, since you finally found memory, I am going to ask you questions and as the Gods as my witnesses you shall answer them with honesty. Let us begin from the beginning of the day prior; why did you miss morning and midday training with Antonius?"
". . . Because Antonius bears no love for me, he hates me in favor of Vitus," Proculus scoffed.
"He appreciates a man that holds the value of initiative and effort close to their heart; qualities that Vitus holds more dearly than you!" Lucius explained. "That does not excuse why you avoided training with the sword."
"Because I have no need for it father. I received my training from you five years ago."
"So you grow complacent in training because your father is a general?!" Lucius asked in an uproar.
"Exactly, why should I receive menial training from a tribune whilst I can receive better from a general? I have been practicing every now and then, but I do not draw on assistance from lowly Antonius."
Lucius restrained his desire to lunge forward to choke his son out in anger for belittling his loyal captain. He realized he had to get back to training his legion and could not waste time on one stupid answer his son gave. He inhaled his anger and frustration and exhaled it out and began to calm down. He reluctantly moved on to the next question. "Next, why did your mind believe it was right to steal your own brother's coin?"
"I, uh . . . I," Proculus uncomfortably stammered, "My intentions were clouded at the time, and I cannot seize to recall my motives father," Proculus lied with a straight face. He knew why he stole Vitus' denarii, but could not think of a better answer. If he was honest to his father that he stole it out of spite, Proculus knew that his father would punch him in his face.
"You cannot recall your actions for stealing a purse that large?" his father asked him with an incredulous look.
"Apologies father, but it seems I cannot," the elder son said as he attempted to make the sincerest face he has ever made.
Lucius quietly studied Proculus' face and for the first time since Lucius could remember; he was not able to discern whether Proculus was telling the truth or lying. Lucius sighed aloud and decided to brush the question off and proceed to the next question. "In your celebration prior to your day of birth, why did you choose a whorehouse to celebrate and spend your brother's coin?"
"I did not choose the whorehouse, Tatumius did," Proculus said telling the truth to his father, "He wanted to celebrate my birthday and he swayed the rest of our friends to join."
"Alright," Lucius said satisfied with the truth behind the question. He then moved on to the last and the most serious of his questions.
"Last question Proculus . . ." Proculus silently sighed in relief at hearing the last of his father's pestering questions, Lucius continued while gritting teeth, "Why did I find you lowering yourself and your wife by fucking a filthy whore?"
Proculus began to laugh as he drank from the jug of water. "That?" he asked in complete surprise while still laughing, "That meant nothing!"
"It meant nothing? Oh thank the Gods that such disgraceful act meant nothing," Lucius laughed sarcastically.
"By truth of my words, it meant nothing father," Proculus said as he continued to laugh.
"Your act may hold absent value to you but that is because you act like a child unable to wipe away his own shit!" Lucius snapped. Proculus stopped laughing. Lucius walked closer to Proculus and looked him deep in the eye, "Do you know who your wife is?"
"She is Appia of the Julii, my wife, my love, the beating of my heart and the Venus of the Republic," Proculus seriously stated.
"She is the daughter to Caius Maxentius the Consul of the Senate!" Lucius hissed.
"And here we come in full circle!" Proculus said as he rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air. "You only have eyes for her as a sort of object to gain political favor for our family!"
"Because that can be a powerful asset for our family!" Lucius yelled at Proculus.
"So our family's position takes precedence over my happiness?" Proculus laughed bitterly. "I am fortunate that I am married to the woman I love, but it was only made so because of your eagerness for our, our . . . our clan to have someone in the senate!"
"You show example of what you view as love? By fucking a whore at a deprived establishment?!"
"If a place of whores and wine are viewed as 'deprived' by the governor, than why is the building still standing?"
"It was one of the only ways to secure peace with the plebeians," Lucius explained, "It gives them menial entertainment and distraction, whilst making a profit for taxation."
"Oh, so the center of evil only exists to make some extra coin?!" Proculus laughed darkly as he stood up to drink from the jug of water.
"You know not of what you speak! And do not misdirect question, why were you with that whore?"
Proculus sighed and placed the jug down and looked at his angry father with earnest eyes, "Because father, my spirit is strong; but my flesh is weak to the pleasures of a woman. Appia . . . it is her time of the month. She had her monthly flow of blood and I was not in spirit to lie with my wife when blood seeps from between her thighs like a stuck pig.
"So upon arrival at the 'deprived' house of whores; I choose to relieve my lustful urges until bleeding from Appia ceased."
"So that's why? You risk discovery and scandal because of your wife's flow of blood?" Lucius asked disgustedly upon learning of his son's act. "And you claim you love her."
"I do love her!" Proculus declared, "I do love her! I did not commit any infidelity against her, I just used a whore's loose body to relieve daily . . . constraints. There were no feelings or emotions between me and the whore. I would gladly lie with Appia every day; only if she is absent blood. I have committed no crime of infidelity!"
Lucius placed his face into his hands and shook his head disapprovingly. "Where did I go wrong with you," Lucius sighed to himself. "Why couldn't you be more like your brother?"
The question caused for surge of anger to course through Proculus' body. He slumped his head and bit his bottom lip in discontent. For his own father to compare him to his younger brother was one of the worse insults that he could endure.
"Are we quite done father?!" Proculus asked in an annoyed tone as he casually leaned against the wall.
"Yes, yes we're done here," Lucius growled as he tried to hold everything back from smacking his rude son in the mouth.
"Good, around what time should the guest arrive for my celebration father?"
"There shall be no celebration," Lucius slightly grin almost savoring the surprise for his son.
Proculus turned his head in an instant, "What? But it's my birthday today!"
"After what occurred the previous night, you are not ready to hold a celebration in this house."
"But father! I am a man and I can make a—"
"Then as a man, cease your petty groveling!" Lucius barked as he advanced closer to Proculus and got a closer look at Proculus' eyes, "Besides, I do not think our guests would care to enjoy the spectacle of your eye."
"What is wrong with it?" Proculus asked as a twinge of fear could be heard in his voice as he felt his sensitive eye.
Lucius didn't say a word. He reached for a small hand mirror and handed it over to Proculus. Proculus looked at the mirror and recoiled in horror. Proculus looked at the mirror one more time, and to his dismay, it was no illusion; he had a large swollen left black eye.
The face that made many Roman girls swoon and the Roman women to wet their thighs in the past was now horribly disfigured. Proculus couldn't utter a word. His gaze was fixated into the mirror with his jaw dropped.
"You were about to eject your seed into the whore last night when you turned around to find me and Antonius behind you. But in your haste, you spilled your seed on the both of us, and Antonius gave you the blackened eye with his hand out in justified anger," Lucius explained seemingly reading Proculus' mind of how he came to have a black eye.
"It's . . . it's horrible," Proculus whispered to himself at the sight of his eye.
"Strike bruised eye from concern and see yourself appropriately dressed for training," Lucius commanded as he turned to leave.
"Training?" Proculus checked outside the window and noticed the forming of rain clouds, "But it is going to rain."
"Are you really afraid of the rain?" Lucius asked his son in disbelief. "I do not care if fucking fire falls from the heavens! You shall train with the rest of the legion! Now see yourself dressed in your armor with haste and take your sword! I await in the foyer for you."
"Yes father . . . one last thing. Appia? Did you break words with her about me?" Proculus asked out in concern.
"She took note of your bruised eye yet I did not have her sleep in your bedchambers. I told her nothing of what you did last night and I sent her to the market for today. Now dress yourself and let us be off. The Twenty-Eighth is almost done with midday meal."
As Lucius left the room, Euphatos scurried in and quickly dressed the groggy son in his bronze muscle-plated armor. Euphatos handed Proculus his sword that was passed down to his father when Proculus came of age. Proculus studied the Gladius and reflected on his early experiences with his father.
He remembered a happier time with his father; how when he was younger he would "play war" with his father by dueling each other with wooden sticks. His father would joke and laugh with his son and chase him around the villa all day until they both collapsed from exhaustion and fun. But those times were long gone and now he was an embarrassment to his father while his brother was the favorite. Times have changed indeed.
Training in the army barracks has momentarily ceased. Most of the Twenty-Eighth had broken for lunch and rest. The legionaries had momentarily shed their armor and helmets and sat down to "enjoy" their meal of lamb stew and bread.
But amongst the break from training in the legion; Vitus was still training one-on-one with Tribune Antonius. The two began to train amongst the First Cohort, the most senior and prestigious cohort of a legion. The crack troops of the First Cohort sat at tables and enjoyed their food as they joked at and watched the sparring between the General's son and their Captain.
The most senior centurion of the legion and the commander of the First Cohort, Primus Pilus Cossutius stood back and leaned against a wall stroking his beard watching the young Roman trying to best the Tribune. Legionary Aelianus of the 1st Century of the First Cohort, the best soldier in the legion, casually approached the senior centurion and they both stood back and watched Vitus.
"Wow, the boy is approving faster than expected," Aelianus commented as he took a bite from an apple.
"Thanks to the tutelage of Antonius. Note Vitus' stance every time he thrust his sword he uses his speed to strike and to recover back into a defensive stance, the boy has impeccable form," Cossutius pointed out.
"How well do you think he would command our legion if permitted?"
"Just as well as his father . . . maybe even better; time shall tell if he proves me right."
Antonius and Vitus were once again equipped with wooden practice swords, even though Vitus requested real swords. After their bout, both men once again took position in front of each other.
Antonius struck first as he unleashed a barrage of strong attacks pushing Vitus back on the defense. After a clash and lock of swords, Antonius smirked at the struggling Vitus and kicked him square in his chest, knocking Vitus flat on his back.
Vitus rolled off his back and decided it was time to put yesterday's advice to use. He took the stance of a runner's starting position before the race. He used all of his energy to push off his feet and dashed towards Antonius at a breakneck speed.
Vitus' speed caught Antonius off-guard and now Vitus was on the offensive. Vitus slashed, hacked, and thrust at Antonius with ferocious speed yet with certain degrees of control. He picked his targets of the body and struck with pinpoint accuracy, if it wasn't for Antonius' years of combat experience, he probably would have been hit by the first strike.
Vitus got in close to Antonius and was looking to end it. Anxious to get Vitus to back up off of him, Antonius lunged wildly with his sword and nicked Vitus' on his right side. Vitus simply sidestepped to his left and with his free left hand, Vitus caught Antonius' sword hand at his wrist. Vitus spun out to the left while still holding on to Antonius hand and elbowed him in the back of his head. In the same motion, Vitus swung his leg out into Antonius and made Antonius trip over his leg. As Antonius was falling to earth, Vitus snatched Antonius' wooden sword from his hand.
Antonius landed on his back with a painful thud. With both wooden swords in hand, Vitus walked over to the beaten captain and placed one sword against his throat and the second sword against the captain's nose.
Vitus began panting softly and grinned so hard that his cheeks felt like bursting, "Now I know that my legendary father has told you to never swing wildly, am I right?"
The whole area fell silent. The entire First Cohort was gripped with silence at the sight of their defeated captain. Everyone present had stopped talking, they stopped joking, and they had even stopped eating. Cossutius rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Aelianus even dropped the apple he was eating with mouth agape.
A smile grew on Antonius' face as he began to nod his head in approval at the victorious Vitus.
"That's my son!" Lucius laughed with pride as he entered the barracks, "With time he may even rival Aeneas or even Prince Hector himself!"
At the sight of their general, the entire cohort stood at attention and greeted their general with proud smiles as if a son would greet his loving father as he returns home. The five centurions of the 1st Cohort approached their general and shook his hand as they greeted him. But then Proculus came out from behind the general and the smiles of everyone present evaporated into disbelief. Disbelief that the "honorable son" would "grace" them with his presence.
The smile on Vitus' face faded into a furious scowl at the sight of his traitorous brother. He removed the wooden swords from Antonius' face and helped him up while his gaze still remained fixated on his brother. Proculus met his brother's scowl and looked away from him with a twinge of shame and embarrassment.
Lucius pulled Proculus off to the side and leaned into him, "You have wronged your brother and you will make apologies for your grievous actions, now!" he ordered.
Lucius ordered the First Cohort to end their midday meal and to assemble on the training grounds. The legionaries left the meal hall and headed off to the training grounds leaving Proculus and Vitus alone in the meal hall.
Proculus slowly approached his younger brother, turning his head to the left so that his black eye would not be as noticeable. But Vitus noticed Proculus' bruised eye and let out a haunting laugh.
"What gives you right to laugh?" Proculus asked in an annoyed tone.
"That a thief gets his proper reward," Vitus continued to laugh.
"I know not of what you speak," Proculus lied as his eyes turned to the ground.
"Oh do not break false tongue. Antonius explained in marvelous detail how he bruised your eye for what you did in the house of whores," Vitus said as a cocky smile grew on his face.
"You heard?" Proculus sighed.
"If 100 denarii of mine vanishes, then I believe I have the right to know of what purpose it was spent upon," Vitus said with a serious face.
"Dear brother," Proculus said as he placed his arm around Vitus' shoulders attempting to change the subject as quickly as possible, "The past cannot be changed. So let us turn eye towards horizon and forget of past transgressions."
"I would find that most appreciative, after; you commence apologies for the theft of my coin."
"Apologies Vitus," Proculus said as he looked him in the eye. Yet Vitus could hear the insincerity in Proculus' voice.
Vitus squinted his eyes in confusion at his brother and brushed Proculus' arm off of him, "Is that it? Is that what this is to you?"
"What is, brother?"
"Is this a jest for your amusement for me to be a fool?" Vitus asked as he raised his voice.
"Oh if this was a jest, you would not know it," Proculus laughed under his breath.
"I have long known when you attempt to speak a lie, especially to me."
"What I say to you is neither a lie nor a jest."
"That is a lie in of itself!" Vitus scoffed as he rolled his eyes.
"I have given you an apology, and as such my time with you is done brother," Proculus sneered as he turned around to leave.
"You are such a disgrace to the Julii!" Vitus shouted after Proculus. Proculus stopped.
"Know your place as the younger brother!" Proculus snapped as he turned around.
"No! Learn your place as eldest son! You are entitled with responsibilities and noble callings but yet squander it all on wine and whores!" Vitus yelled as he advanced closer to his brother's face.
"What do you speak of?" Proculus asked, his face contorted in confusion.
"Did you believe your actions were hidden from me?" Vitus laughed as he flung his hands into the air. "I have been well aware that you have visited establishments of less than questionable woman around the ides of each month starting a year ago. That would mean . . . by the Gods brother, you would go to lie with women during Appia's . . . monthly flow?" Vitus asked, blushing with embarrassment.
"I do, and yet you stand me at fault for my wife's body?"
"I stand you at fault for betraying a perfect woman. Appia's beauty could possibly rival Venus' herself, and her spirit is marvelous and munificent! For all the foolish acts you have committed she has been defending your honor without question! And just like in the manner how you squander your birthright, you squander her love and compassion!"
"Well who are you to command me in how to run my marriage?!" Proculus shouted as he shoved Vitus in his chest. "You have never even been with a woman!"
"Only because your interference of making a fool of me in front of girls has negated the proper opportunity!" Vitus spat back as he shoved Proculus, "But I know that if I was Appia's husband, I would treat her better than you, I would actually treat her like a goddess."
The two agitated brothers got into each others face even though Vitus had to strain his neck upwards a little to meet his tall brother in the eye.
"You have caused much heartache for our family, especially for Father and Mother; never heeding their words, betraying their trust for carnal desires, you are pathetic," Vitus hissed.
"And you believe yourself the better? Acting like one of Father's loyal centurions at every turn for him to show you affection," Proculus half laughed as he made hand gestures to emphasis his statement. "You all but take knee to stroke his cock!"
"Do not disrespect Father in that manner!" Vitus shouted as he pointed his finger in his brother's face, "I wonder often why you treat me with such contempt whenever Father—" Vitus stopped mid-sentence as his eyes opened out of realization.
A self-satisfied smile crept on Vitus' face as he raised one hand and began gesturing with it as he finally spoke again, "So that is the reason."
"What do you mean?"
"You are jealous of me." Vitus' smile grew larger, "You are jealous because of Father's adoration for me over you."
"You know not of what you speak!"
"Really? For as long I can remember, I have been your target for cruel purposes! After you donned the toga virilis, you have been plaguing me at every step. The same time Father began to spend more time with me. I find that rather cute that you are jealous of your younger brother."
"I hold no such thing as jealousy over you, the very thought of that turns my stomach," Proculus growled. "I am his firstborn and I have the love of Father because I am the firstborn."
"So you believe yourself entitled?"
"I am entitled to everything as the eldest son! I am even entitled to inherit this damn legion!"
"You are not entitled to the legion. If Father retires, the legion shall be inherited to me. The legion respects me and shall follow me wherever I go! I lived with the legion for months outside the city and have grown to known the legionaries. A mutual respect is forged between me and the men of the Twenty-Eighth."
"They may hold respect for you as a 'brother' but they shall respect me as their general because I am a patrician!"
"The men do not respect titles they respect leadership and courage; two traits you are absent without," Vitus snickered.
"And you believe yourself to possess these qualities?"
"I know I have them! The legion sees it in me, Antonius sees it me, and Father sees it in me."
"Well I only see a miniature jest that thinks he is a man!"
"I am a man now, and as a man; I extend my apologies to you," Vitus said as he meekly looked at his feet.
"What? What manner do you extend apologies for?" Proculus asked sincerely.
"For not being curt with you from the beginning!" Vitus snapped. "Here I stand the fool for ever believing you would make apologies and attempt to restore the grievance you have inflicted upon me with proper balance! Let me be clear with what I want...I want reimbursement for the 100 denarii you stole from me!"
"Reimbursement?" Proculus laughed, "You require reimbursement from the coin I took? Why should I do that?"
"Because you have wronged me and you need to make amends! That, and Father shall make you reimburse me."
"I have nothing of worth to give you," Proculus said as he turned around to leave with an arrogant grin. "And even if I did possess something of worth, I would not hand it to you!"
"And here I stand thinking my brother is the son of our Father," Vitus scoffed. Proculus stopped.
"What did you say?" Proculus growled as he turned around with a scowl.
"If you were truly the son of my Father, then he would have taught you the value of honesty!"
"Are you touched in the head? I am his son," Proculus said as he walked back to Vitus.
"Father would have taught you the esteemed virtues of Roman citizenship if you were his son," Vitus spoke louder.
"I am his son," Proculus began to shout as he walked faster.
"Do not lie to me; the way you act around the city does not portray you as a true Roman, or as the son to my father! You are an embarrassment, a simple stain on my father's name!"
"I am not, and he is my father as well!" Proculus practically yelled as he walked up into Vitus' face.
"That remains to be seen Proculus! All the help that Father, Mother, and Appia give you and you return such tender embrace by pissing in their faces! If you were his son, then Father would have taught you compassion and kindness because he would have loved you!"
"He does love me! I am his son!" Proculus screamed in a simmering rage.
"You are only a fool that claims such title!"
Proculus lunged forward at Vitus and began choking him with one hand.
"And you are an outcast cursed by the damn Gods to wield such wicked eyes! Never to be taken serious on this fucking earth!" Proculus screeched in Vitus face.
"At the very least, the Twenty-Eighth shall follow a man cursed with different eyes than one whose eye is as black as night," Vitus wheezed as he was trying to loosen Proculus' grip.
"Proculus! Vitus! You both are summoned to the training grounds!" Antonius called for them as he leaned against the exit from the mess hall. The brothers gazed in the tribune's direction and noticed his disconcerting gaze upon them. Proculus threw his younger brother in the dirt and spat on him.
"You shall regret the things you have said," Proculus growled as he pointed his finger at his wheezing brother on the ground.
"No, you shall regret the day you took from me," Vitus promised, staring at his brother as he stood up from the ground and walked out first of the mess hall. As Proculus headed out the exit of the mess hall, he could hear Antonius chuckling behind him.
"What is it that you find funny?" Proculus asked as he sighed in annoyance.
"Please enlighten me, how hard is it to see with one eye?" Antonius replied with an ending chuckle.
Proculus turned around and got into Antonius' face, "How would you like one to match?" Antonius remained unimpressed by Proculus' threat.
"The day you can a land a blow on me is the day Jupiter opens the heavens and shits gold for a week," Antonius replied as he began to laugh in Proculus' face.
"Learn your place you lowly tribune!" Proculus hissed. "You speak out of turn to the general's son!"
"Oh! Oh forgive me for speaking out of turn," Antonius sarcastically said as he waved his hands in the air, "But it seems my speaking out of turn has been eclipsed by your actions as of late."
The smile on Antonius' face suddenly grew serious, he stopped leaning on the wall and was nose-to-nose with Proculus.
"I do not like you Proculus. I know you have knowledge of that. You are a weak, stupid, and spoiled man who cannot walk two steps absent tripping over his feet!" Antonius slowly spat as he drove his finger into Proculus' chest for emphasis. "If you want to strike first, then do it. Just remember whose words your father will believe. Me, his trusted Tribune; or you, the constant embarrassment and pathetic excuse for a son? But first, do you not have somewhere to be right now?"
Proculus clenched his fist as hatred coursed through his veins. As much as Proculus wanted to punch Antonius in his arrogant face, he was already in enough trouble already and a fight with his father's tribune wouldn't help. He sighed out some of his pent-up anger and stormed off away from Antonius.
Still relishing his mental victory over Proculus, Antonius thought of an idea as a dark grin rose on his face.
"Why can't you be more like your brother?" Antonius asked, savoring ever little word in the sentence.
Proculus stopped once again, this time he made a low, frustrated growl loud of enough to be heard by Antonius. The growl brought a sweet, victorious smirk to the tribune's face. Proculus' fist began to tighten so much that his nails almost broke the skin of his palms. Proculus refused to turn his head to see Antonius' smiling face. He instead stomped his way out of the mess hall to join his brother on the training ground.
The training ground was located in the middle of the colossal army barracks in Alesia. It was a large square filled with dirt and sand used by the legion to conduct weapon practice and formational drills. But now the ground was being used for ceremonial purposes, as when Proculus walked onto the ground, he was greeted by the entire First Cohort dressed in full armor in parade formation surrounding the square.
In the middle of the square of the training ground was Vitus as he stood erect facing the balcony to the north which held Lucius and his dozen ancillaries, his wife Octavia, and his daughter-in-law Appia, and Lucius' aquilifer Vibius Petrosidius who was responsible for the eagle standard of the Legio XXVIII.
Proculus roamed around the square caught in awe at the formed First Cohort around him until he gazed at the balcony and noticed Appia motioning him to join his younger brother's side. Once Proculus was next to Vitus' side, both of the brothers gazed at each with leering glares and quickly scoffed when they broke eye contact with each other.
Tribune Antonius finally entered the training ground and made his way to the square where the brothers were standing alone. He looked out to the balcony and looked upon Lucius. Lucius nodded his head to him. Antonius peered over to Primus Pilus Cossutius and nodded his head at him.
Cossutius took a few steps out of the ranks and addressed his Cohort, "First Cohort! Stand at Attention!" The sounds of the stomping of boots and the clanging of armor rang out in unison. Cossutius took a pause to examine his men standing at perfect attention, once he was satisfied he bellowed out, "First Cohort! Rest!" The men stood at ease. Cossutius nodded back at Antonius.
"On this day, Lucius Julius, General of the Legio XXVIII and heir to the Julii has brought you in here in recognition of his eldest son, Proculus Julius' day of birth and for his youngest son Vitus Julius donning the toga virilis and for coming into manhood," Antonius declared as he walked next to the proud brothers.
Lucius stepped up from the back of the balcony and addressed his two sons, "Proculus, Vitus, I am proud to call you my sons. Out of all of my military accomplishments, your arrival into this word has been my greatest victory.
"Vitus, your entrance into manhood began eight days ago and I have a gift worth many wonders for you; and for you as well Proculus. Through procurement of favors within the Senate and of our leader, my brother, Decius Julius; I present your gifts. All the way from the regions of Hispania, I present for you, your very own mounts; Romulus and Remus!"
At the sound of the two Roman names of legend, three men walked into the training ground leading a pair of Andalusian horses to the center of the square; one horse bigger than the other.
It was quite obvious that the bigger horse was Romulus. He was a magnificent stallion, he had a luscious dark bay coat and stood at an impressive 18 hands. He was strongly built with every defined muscle on his body exuding from his coat yet looked elegant enough to trot gracefully. The individual strands on his coat could be seen waving majestically whenever a breeze brushed off him. His mane and tail were thick and flowing and were neatly trimmed to not block his eyes. His head was large and had a broad forehead with a white star-like mark on its brow.
Remus was the smaller of the pair and a little less impressive. He had a chestnut dun coat and stood at 16 hands. He wasn't as built as Romulus but he was just as compact as his less defined muscles rippled through his body. He had an abundant and rich quality mane that ran past his eyes and had thick, bushy tails that extended to the back of his knees.
The three men portrayed the stallions around the training ground allowing everyone to watch their magnificent trots. The brothers were instantly in love with the majestic stallions.
The elder of the three men approached the brothers and spoke up so everyone could hear, "Behold the majesty and grace of Romulus and Remus! Both stallions are brothers, just like you two! Romulus is the giant that stands before you, and Remus is the humble yet glorious horse that trots next to him. Both are highly intelligent, very agile, and fiercely loyal!"
The two men reined in the horses in front of the brothers, further enticing them with their spectacular horses. Even from the balcony, Lucius could see his sons' smiles.
"For it is the day of your birth Proculus, you shall be granted Romulus. And Vitus, you shall have Remus!" Lucius said to his boys.
Proculus looked to his father seemingly asking him if this gift was really his. Lucius gently grinned at his elder son and nodded his head. Proculus stood up straight and proudly walked forward to claim his new stallion with a smile so large that it could eclipse the sun.
"Apologies father!" Vitus shouted interrupting the celebration. All eyes fell on him. "This is truly a gift of wonders; I would feel honored to express my gratitude towards you. But as you may recall, my precious purse of 100 denarii was taken from me and I properly seek reimbursement. Would you allow that I take the stallion Romulus instead; and to give Remus to my dear brother Proculus?"
Proculus' jaw dropped. "W-W-Wait, w-w-what?!" was all he could mutter in confusion.
All eyes then turned on Lucius. Lucius stood in the balcony contemplating the issue. He looked at Vitus and saw the earnest look in his eyes for the need of justice to be done. He then looked upon Proculus' stunned face. Proculus began shaking his head wildly at his father to deny Vitus of the request.
Octavia tugged on Lucius' shoulder and looked at her husband with a concerned face, wanting to know if this was the right thing to do. Lucius returned his focus back on Proculus and noticed the distress in Proculus' facial pleas and decided that it would be a fair punishment for his disgraceful elder son.
"Vitus!" Lucius bellowed from the balcony, "I recognize your plea for reimbursement and it is granted. Romulus is now yours. Proculus, you are now entitled to Remus!"
"What?!" Proculus shouted to the balcony at the top of his lungs.
Vitus stepped forward and walked to claim his new horse. As Vitus walked pasted the stunned Proculus, Vitus turned his head towards Proculus; and Vitus' contempt smile slowly transformed into a dark, sinister grin right before Proculus' eyes.
Vitus walked up to Romulus and took a gander of his new stallion. He was astonished by Romulus' height, the stallion's 18 hand figure towered over young Vitus. His coat smelled of rich, warm, fresh, wheat barley that enveloped Vitus' nose with the most pleasant of aromas.
Vitus extended his left hand out and began to gently stroke Romulus on where his shoulder met his neck. He then moved his hand and began to stroke Romulus' neck. Vitus then slowly extended his right hand out to Romulus and gently placed his palm on his mouth. Romulus took three careful sniffs and gently licked the palm of Vitus' hand.
Romulus turned his head and faced his new owner. Their eyes met. Vitus peered into Romulus' great hazel eyes and imagined seeing into the stallion's soul. He saw the stallion as a very intelligent, loyal yet sensitive creature that was looking for a respectable rider. Vitus smiled and began to pet Romulus with more affection.
Vitus leaned into his horse and placed his head next to the giant's neck and gently whispered into his ear, "You are indeed a rare creature of beauty the likes of which I have never seen. I can tell in your eyes; you want love, care, and respect; all of which I shall grant unto you. In return, you help me be all I can be; and I shall always love you. I promise you. Come Romulus, we shall have splendid adventures together!"
It was a touching sight for everyone there, everyone except for Proculus. The sight of Vitus taking his gift away from him absolutely infuriated Proculus. His hands began to clench violently as he slowly grinded his teeth in anger. This would not stand. Storm clouds began to gather, blackening the sky.
"Father!" Proculus shouted as he approached the balcony and stared up at his father. "I hold rights over that horse and it should be returned to me!"
"This is an act of reimbursement due to private manners," Lucius growled lowly trying to remind his son that this was due to Proculus stealing Vitus' money.
"But it is mine! I was entitled to Romulus for my birthday! He is rightfully mine!" Proculus continued to argue.
"But Father, after what occurred yesterday, this is the proper gift for me! Please father, let me keep Romulus!" Vitus told his father, gazing at him with earnest beseeching eyes.
The eyes of the training ground fell on Lucius who covered his mouth with his hands, contemplating a fair resolution.
"Father," Appia whispered into her father-in-law's ear, "This may be fair for Vitus, but the horse's original intentions were laid upon Proculus. Romulus is too big of a mount for young Vitus. Remus would be more suitable for him as planned from the beginning."
"No. This is for the compensation of taking Vitus' purse. This shall teach Proculus proper lesson," Lucius stated.
"But something must be done Lucius," Octavia turned to him, "A proper and true compromise must be reached amongst our sons."
Lucius stared down at his two beleaguered sons that were starring back, begging him to take their own side. Lucius believed that giving Romulus to Vitus would teach Proculus a proper lesson, but Lucius could see that this was not going to work. Lucius searched through his mind of a compromise that would ensure that Proculus to see the error of his ways. The side of Lucius' mouth began to rise; he would handle the situation the same way warriors would.
"So the both of you dispute each others claim over the stallion Romulus, eh?" Lucius asked his sons with a smirk on his face. "Vitus, you are a man now and as such, you shall settle this like men in the Roman legion; by combat against each other, with steel instead of wood!"
Both Octavia and Appia performed a double-take at the suggestion of the resolution. Some legionaries of the First Cohort began to quietly gossip within the ranks, only to be silenced by Cossutius' command.
"Stipulations shall be made," Lucius continued as he addressed the training ground, "To be named victor, blood of your opponent must be drawn thrice! No serious wound must be delivered and severe punishment shall be meted out to the man that caused them. The prize for such contest shall be for the glorious stallion Romulus! Proculus, Vitus; do you two hold any qualms about my decision?"
Proculus exchanged his glare with his brother, both men were not backing down, there long time feud has gone on too long and could not be solved by words. They both figured this was the best solution. Without breaking their glares, the brothers answered their father in unison, "None, Father." A fierce bolt of lightning cracked through the grey, gloomy sky, followed by the earth shattering echo of thunder.
"Antonius, Vitus is absent proper sword of his own, lend him yours," Lucius commanded.
Antonius unsheathed his sword and placed it in the hands of Vitus whose eyes were still locked on his brother. Proculus quickly unsheathed his sword and pointed it at his brother with a smirk. Antonius' rough hands patted Vitus on his shoulder and stared into the young man's eyes, "Show your arrogant brother what I taught you."
The stallions were taken out of the square and Antonius aligned himself within the First Cohort which boxed in the brothers in the training square. The brothers walked up to each other; with each footstep they took their grip began to tighten around their swords until they stood up against each other.
"Have the Gods robbed you of your senses?!" Octavia asked her husband with worry in her voice.
"No, they have finally granted me sense," Lucius replied, not allowing his eyes to move away from his sons' duel.
"You would command your sons to fight and risk injury over a horse?" Octavia asked incredulously. "They do not even wield wooden practice swords, but real steel!"
"Better to prepare them for actual battle."
"Call this off Lucius!" Octavia demanded. "I shall not stand by idly and allow our sons to kill each other!"
"Then take your leave to the palace," Lucius coldly answered.
"This is not right, Father," Appia spoke up, "What if Proculus or Vitus end with a serious injury?"
"That shall not come to pass," Lucius reassured her. "This is for their own good."
"Lucius stop this now!" Octavia shouted at her husband as she softly hit his shoulders with closed fists.
"Nothing you can say or do shall sway my decision!" Lucius snapped as he turned to face his concerned wife. "I grant this exhibition so that Proculus' would learn his place by the hands of Vitus."
Octavia's jaw dropped as her hands covered her mouth. Appia took a few steps back whilst shaking her head, "Your reason behind this is for the humiliation of Proculus? To make an example out of him" she asked in horror.
"Yes. Last night has finally opened my eyes that I have been too soft on Proculus."
"What did he do last night that would make you take this course of action?" Appia begged to know.
"Nothing that concerns you," Lucius told her, "This is for Proculus' benefit to become a better Roman. His disgrace is my disgrace because I failed to raise him like a true Roman."
"Lucius, we raised him right," Octavia softly mentioned as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"No, no we did not," Lucius argued, "We failed in—I failed in my endeavors of him. Our best result was with Vitus. Proculus is not like Vitus!"
"When will you stop comparing Proculus to Vitus?" Appia asked in a pleading tone.
Lucius eyed his daughter-in-law with indifference and let out a sigh, "When Proculus finally proves himself."
With the last roar of thunder booming through the sky, a light drizzle of rain fell upon the training ground which quickly turned into a steady downpour. But even through the downpour, the stares of both men could not be broken. Proculus could see the green of Vitus' left eye glow ferociously in the rain.
"Did I not tell you that you were going to regret today?" Proculus laughed. "Now see your actions of today reap consequences. Now stand down or else find your shriveling cock wet the sand you two-eyed monstrosity."
"Are you going to bark all day like a dog, or are you going to bite?" Vitus asked with a serious face as he took his stance.
"Oh I am going indulge in this pleasure," Proculus chuckled as he took his stance, "Far more than I should."
Proculus suddenly jumped off his back foot and charged Vitus, yelling as he got closer. With all his strength, Proculus performed an overhead slash in an attempt to cleave his brother in two. But Vitus foresaw the slow and careless attack and easily took a side-step when the blade came down.
Proculus' momentum at missing his brother caused him to awkwardly stumble away from Vitus. But Proculus quickly regained his footing and charged again at Vitus, this time, wildly swing his sword horizontally trying to take off Vitus' head; yet as before Vitus was dodging his brother's attacks with relative ease instead of blocking them.
After the fifth crazed swing, Vitus began to carefully analyze Proculus' attacks. His strikes were heavy but slow, instead of aiming for any part of Vitus' body, he was swinging wildly. He would overextend his attacks which would leave him off balance; in short, Proculus' form was sloppy and pitiful.
At the sight of Proculus' abysmal technique; half of the cohort silently judged Proculus poorly, one quarter of the cohort began turning their heads looking at each other wondering if Proculus was actually trying to fight correctly, while the last quarter of the cohort could be heard snickering at Proculus.
After the seventh swing, Vitus spun out of Proculus' onslaught to the left. As he was still spinning out, Vitus sliced Proculus' right shoulder. Proculus grunted loudly in pain, he grabbed his stinging shoulder with his left hand and then examined it with shocked eyes. There was blood on his hand.
"First blood has been drawn," Antonius announced to the training square.
Appia winced as she witnessed her husband clutching his wounded shoulder. She wanted to yell out to her father-in-law to stop the fight, but she looked upon Lucius' stone face and realized that her pleas would fall on deaf ears. All she could do was pray that her husband would win and that Vitus would walk away relatively unscathed.
The soaked and confused Proculus continued to examine his fresh wound. The cut ran horizontal on his shoulder and wasn't as deep as he thought, but a small amount of blood was trickling down his arm.
Blood . . . I am bleeding, Proculus thought to himself, He got me; Vitus actually landed a blow on me. Proculus looked away from his wound and returned his focus on Vitus, who was standing a good distance away silently waiting for Proculus to resume the fight.
Luck! He got me with luck! It must have been the rain that made me lose balance for him to strike; he told himself as he gritted his teeth at Vitus and tightened the grip of his sword. His shoulder began to burn slightly and the wound began to sting, but Proculus ignored the pain.
He once again took his flawed stance against Vitus and slowly began inching his way closer to Vitus. Vitus took a more reliable and solid fighting stance and approached closer as well.
As the brothers were within 5 meters of each other, Proculus darted forward in an attempt to skewer his younger brother. But once again Vitus saw the attack coming and made a simple pivot out of the way. With swift finesse, Vitus parried Proculus' sword downward with his sword, causing Proculus to awkwardly stumble forward yet again.
Vitus took another opportunity; as Proculus continued to stagger forward, Vitus scooted behind him and delivered a quick vertical slash to the back of Proculus' left thigh. Proculus fell screaming as he crashed into the wet, hardened sand grasping his leg.
"Second blood has been drawn," Antonius announced once again.
"Lucius, stop this at once!" Octavia shouted to her husband.
"This bout shall not be stopped."
"Fine! I shall see it stopped myself!" Octavia tried to run back inside so she could head to the training square to stop her sons. Lucius lunged forward with his arm and wrapped her into his chest and held her tight. She tried to struggle out of his grip, but Lucius just pulled her in tighter to his chest.
"Place faith in my decision," Lucius grunted as he tried to stop her from squirming, "This shall bear fruit in the near future."
Proculus felt the open cut on the back of his thigh; it was a deeper cut than the one on his shoulder and blood began to flow out at a steadier rate. Yet the cut wasn't deep enough to be life-threatening and it wasn't deep enough to make him walk with a limp after a proper recovery.
Proculus slowly rose to his feet and he awkwardly balanced himself trying his best to keep his weight off of his left leg.
"Brother . . . let us end this fight," Vitus genuinely asked of his bleeding brother, "Just offer surrender and we can end this day absent further bloodshed."
"You think me to be beaten?" Proculus spat in frustration as he winced in pain from his leg, "I have just begun!"
"Proculus you can hardly walk, yet alone stand up straight. Please consider surrender," Vitus asked in a sort of pleading tone.
"Never! I shall never surrender! Especially to you Vitus, you short hemorrhoid-filled fuck!"
Vitus lowered his head in self-reflection at the comment and allowed for the heavy rain drops to soak his hair. Vitus clenched his sword tighter and began sucking his teeth. He pulled his head up and glared at his brother with fire in his eyes. You brought this upon yourself, Vitus thought to himself.
Vitus ran towards his wobbling brother and picked his target on his brother's body to deliver the final blow. Proculus tried to move backwards but could only stagger because of his wounded leg.
As Vitus was in handshaking distance; Proculus swung his sword in desperation only for it to be swatted out of Proculus' hand by Vitus' sword. And in one swift motion, Vitus swung his sword towards' Proculus' face and slashed him on the bridge of his nose.
Proculus covered his nose with both hands and recoiled backwards, screaming as if he was on fire. But Vitus wasn't done yet; he brought his leg up and kicked Proculus in his chest, knocking the elder brother down to the wet ground.
Vitus approached his stagnant brother and pounced on top of his chest like a cat. Vitus took a good look at the final cut he gave his brother; it was a deep cut that almost went to the bone of the bridge of the nose. Blood was flowing out of his nose and ran down the side of his cheeks and into his mouth.
But this moment seemed familiar to Vitus, as if he and his brother were in this position before. Vitus remembered that two years ago he and Proculus were fighting over a trivial matter at the time, yet Proculus lost his temper and punched Vitus in the face and got on top of him and began to pummel him until Vitus received a gash on his nose.
Vitus could feel his blood boil at the thought of the beating he received, but now it was Proculus who was suffering from it. But, it wasn't enough. This wasn't enough for Proculus; he needed to be punished more. Vitus believed that this was nowhere near enough retribution for Proculus' constant bullying and cruel beatings.
Vitus threw his sword away and channeled all of his repressed anger and frustrations at his brother into his right fist. Vitus drove his fist into Proculus' nose; the cut on Proculus' nose seemed to open more as blood shot into the air.
That was for the gash upon my nose! Vitus angrily cursed at Proculus in his mind. The punch felt good, but it still wasn't enough. Vitus delivered another right punch, this time to Proculus' mouth with so much power that Proculus could feel his own teeth rattle.
That was for all the times you had slapped me in my mouth absent reason! Vitus sent out a sharp jab to Proculus' bad eye.
That was for pulling up my tunic in front of women two years ago! Vitus' slow, deliberate punches quickly turned into an all-out rapid fury of blows to Proculus' defenseless face. Proculus would try to bring his hands up to guard his face, yet Vitus kept finding a way to connect to his bruised face.
That was for all those times you harassed me! That was for the childish pranks you played on me! That was for the spits in my face! Proculus' hands fell away from protecting his face and went limp. That was for blaming me when you took Father's horse all those years ago! That was for trading my dog for wine! Proculus' blood shot up and hit Vitus in the face. Vitus kept going. That was for stealing my coin that Uncle gave me! That was for spending it at the whorehouse! And THIS is for being my brother!
"Vitus enough!" a feminine voice hollered from the balcony.
Vitus held his punches and looked over his shoulder to see Appia leaning over the balcony with flowing tears in her eyes as she stared at her brother-in-law beating her husband to death.
Proculus' coughing snapped Vitus back into the fight. Crimson blood had covered Proculus' entire face like it was a mask; with more blood being spat up from his bleeding mouth and busted lips. His broken nose was the main source of the blood; the small yet deep cut had turned into a hideous open gash that pumped out blood worse than a gut wound. He was knocked out with the only sign of life being his bad cough and raspy wheeze.
The sight of his battered, bloodied brother lying unconscious by his own hands; shocked Vitus back into reality. He finally exhaled his anger and calmed down as he got up off of the broken Proculus. As he unclenched his right fist, he felt a sharp pain go through his ring finger.
Vitus examined his hand and noticed that his right hand was lightly shaking. He could feel his entire hand sharply tingle as he tried to move his fingers. He also noticed that his knuckles were red and were coated with the blood of Proculus. His knuckle on his ring finger was especially red, he touched it and it was very tender and looked like it was swelling. I broke my knuckle.
Vitus turned his attention to his brother who was lying in the pelting rain with a bloodied face. Vitus' face shrunk in horror at the damage he caused to his own brother. He didn't know what happened, all he meant was to point the sword at his throat, but he just saw a red mist over his eyes and turned into a base animal.
"No . . . no I could not have done this," Vitus said to himself, a tear of sadness welled up in his eye while he was backing away shaking his head in denial.
"Vitus, victor!" Lucius bellowed from the balcony. Vitus spun around to see that Romulus was already in front of him.
Vitus looked up to his father to see if it was joke. But Lucius, with a straight face yet with eyes clearly disturbed, nodded at his youngest son and extended his arm for Vitus to accept Romulus. Octavia on the other hand was not present at her husband's side. After the third punch and with Lucius not allowing anyone to stop the fight, Octavia had run back inside the barracks to leave; she could not watch her sons beat each other senseless.
Appia leaned over the balcony and starred at her husband's motionless body out in the rain. She then starred at Vitus who stood out in the rain looking back at her while gently massaging his broken knuckle. Her face began to twist in a mix of disappointment and disgust towards the bewildered Vitus. She was disappointed that he went the extra step to punch his already beaten brother; and she was disgusted that he would continue to beat him until his body fell limp. He was not the man she thought he was. He was not the younger brother she always wanted to have. Appia turned her back on Vitus.
Vitus' heart sank to the lowest depths of his chest. To see the woman that he has been infatuated with since he had first met her, turn away from him in disgust, was too much for him. He lowered his head in shame and didn't even want to claim his prize. If he knew that Appia would have scorned him in that manner, Vitus would have never claimed Romulus for himself.
"Vitus, you may now claim Romulus," Lucius commanded him.
Vitus first picked up Antonius' sword that he threw away and gave it back to the Tribune. "That was a splendid performance," Antonius whispered to Vitus with a smile, "I'm glad you put that fool in his place!" Vitus brushed the comment off as he sulked over to Romulus.
And almost like it was on cue, Proculus began to wake up with a series of groans. The rain had washed away most of the blood on his face when he was unconscious, but he still wore a grisly coat of smeared blood on his face. He slowly got to his wobbling feet as he held his head and looked around the training ground trying to gain a sense of his surroundings.
At the sight of her swaying husband, Appia ran from the dry balcony and into the rain, out onto the training square next to her disoriented husband.
"Proculus, you have lost. You may now claim Remus," Lucius told his beaten son.
The horse was then brought to Proculus as he was gaining more of a balanced footing. Proculus took a few moments to compare the inferior horse to the more superior one. He took his time to look into the eyes of his victorious brother, to see if he had the audacity to gloat.
Vitus however lowered his eyes, not wanting to feel anymore guilty by looking at the brother that he had almost beaten to death. He knew that Proculus was expecting him to brag over the victory in some manner, but what would it had proved? Vitus closed his eyes and refused to even acknowledge Proculus out of shame for beating him into submission.
Wet, groggy, beaten, humiliated, and to be ignored by his triumphant brother; this was by far the worst day in Proculus' life. Proculus scoffed loudly and swatted his wife's comforting arm off of him and left the training ground, limping all the way back to the palace alone.
How many of us have been in Proculus' shoes? Always living in the shadow of a talented sibling, family member, or friend. And to make matters worse, to be humiliated in front of everyone by said person. Anyway, thank you for reading and f.y.i. I am using the dialogue based off the Latin dialogue from the Starz series Spartacus. I love the show in every way especially how they would not speak conventionally in English; which kind of makes sense to me. If you have not seen the Spartacus series, than you should. Please leave reviews, I would love to hear your thoughts, especially if you think the dialogue is awkward or not.
Thank you for taking your time to read this fic!