From Kanuro5: I am utterly amazed how fast I got this chapter done! I told myself that I should finish this within a week, and I did! The next chapter probably won't be finished in two weeks, but I do not promise that it will be so. I can only make that my own personal deadline. I want to once again like to thank you guys for continually reading this and offering me constructive reviews! Seriously, thank you all! Enjoy!
VIII
Vidi
There are many places that are held as sacred in Gallia, but none more numerous than the tribes that lived in Belgic Gaul in the north. The Bellovaci tribe believed that the goddess of the hunt, Arduinna, blessed the Compiègne Forest to be overfilled with wild boars that reproduced faster than rabbits, so that the Bellovaci would never go hunger. The Suessiones tribe hailed that the legendary Gallic warrior, Montius, who united all the tribes into one kingdom four hundred years ago, was born in the sacred grove of Esus underneath a waterfall. And what was the Candevaci's most sacred place? It was herald as the "The Summit of Rianorix", a large grassy knoll that overlooks their city from a mile away. It was at the Summit where the lengthy Gallic civil war came to an end where Rianorix met his warring brother Vindex on the Summit and pursued for peace; effectively ending 20 years of brutal bloodshed. The Summit was known as a formal place to end all disputes; warring tribes across all of Gallia would make their way into the peaceful Candevaci's territory to ensure peace. And now the chieftain of the Candevaci hoped that the mystique of such a sacred place would be perfect to communicate with the Romans.
Lucius Julius walked across the Summit and viewed the serenity that existed on the top; he saw how the vines wrapped tenderly around the trees as if shielding the bark's natural beauty from his eyes, he noticed the sweet smell of dew mixed with the pink and white lilies that enticed his senses, he could just close his eyes and extend his arms and he could feel the power and the majesty of nature and the warmth of the sun radiate throughout his body. He inhaled and exhaled. He broke a smile, a smile that revealed the pure ecstasy of understanding nature.
Aelianus, the leader of the Mighty Three and the most feared man in the First Cohort, approached Julius from behind, "General, everything is in place. Men are also approaching, we believe them Gauls. About fifteen in all." But Lucius didn't hear him.
"Property," Lucius said with a smile.
"General?"
"Property, Aelianus. Everything is about property." Lucius turned around and extended his arms, "Do you not understand? That is a secret that life keeps close to her moist thighs. There will come a time where you will understand this, Aelianus."
The general left the confused Aelianus pondering the general's statement. Property? What does he mean? We have been on this summit for an entire hour, is he talking about this summit? Should I know what he means? Is this the idea of a general? What does he mean?
"Every man, fall to appropriate position! We have one chance; and I will personally kill the man that does not follow his order!" Lucius bellowed, snapping Aelianus out of his internal pondering.
Everyone present ran to form a horizontal line alongside Lucius. The 53 year old Roman general looked from side-to-side, making last minute calculations in his head for the approaching conference. Everyone seemed to be in place. Hopefully, the Gauls would walk into the Summit without starting any trouble.
At the beckoning of a barbarian horn, fifteen Gauls slowly marched up the opposite end of the Summit, fully armed but with their weapons still in their sheathes. The Gauls kept walking until they came within 15 yards of the Romans until Arminius stepped forward and stopped them. The Romans took long precious stares unto their mortal enemies. Aelianus stared at them with subtle caution; ready to unsheathe his sword at a moment's notice if one of the Gauls made a move for a Roman. Arminius stared at them for a different purpose, to compare these Gauls to his German heritage. Metellus, however, stared at them with certain bloodlust. He has slain scores of Gauls and these men before him were no different; men asking to be slaughtered. Metellus relished the thought of a dead barbarian, he secretly craved one of the barbarians to go berserk, just so he has the excuse to kill him.
As the Romans stared and silently judged the Gauls, the Gauls did the same as well. Some of them were a little fidgety, they were so close to the men that took control of their homelands, raped their women, and reeducated their children into Roman servants. Blood was necessary; it had to be paid in full for all that has happened. Yet the Candevaci chieftain did not allow it, he would not risk his entire tribe being destroyed.
The Candevaci chieftain was in his late-50s with half of his chestnut brown hair forming into a shiny silver color. He had a large beard that ran down to his chest with greying hairs on the edge of his chin. His back was hunched and he walked with a limp, yet he was revered as a man of peace and reasoning.
Arminius walked up and presented his General to the Gauls, "Before you, stands Lucius Julius the Mighty, General of the Legio XXVIII, Heir to the Julii Clan, the Hero of Lucretian Bridge and the Conqueror of Hispania!"
The chieftain simply raised his head, as if unimpressed by such intimidating and notable laurels. One of the Gauls walked forth and presented his chieftain to the Romans, "Before you, stands Ivomandus, son of Manivandus and chieftain of the Candevaci!"
Lucius waved Arminius to fall back into the line, since formalities were over; it was time to get to business. Lucius walked forth and nonchalantly asked the chieftain, "Can you speak in Roman tongue?"
"Aye! I can!" Ivomandus said walking forward as well. "I am Ivomandus, chieftain of the Candevaci. And these men behind me are my sons!" the chieftain announced, revealing four men that were directly behind him. "My eldest son and heir to my throne as chieftain, Druxus. My second son, Erdinox, who is…" By the time that Ivomandus reached the second son, Lucius already stopped caring. He didn't need to hear about Ivomandus' lineage, all he needed to hear was about the ambush. Thankfully two minutes later, the Gallic chieftain ended his familial monologue.
"So tell me, oh legendary Roman," Ivomandus asked him with slight contempt in his voice, "Why have you summoned me to form an audience with you? The man who vanquished my people."
"You know of me?" Lucius chuckled, amused that his legend reached the chieftain.
"What Gaul does not know of Lucius Julius the Mighty and his Twenty-Eighth Legion, "the Vanquisher of the Gauls", Ivomandus said darkly, circling around the General in a slow pace, "The Roman who has been eradicating my people for a decade. A Roman, with one legion who has done more than any other Roman has done before and conquered Gallia singlehandedly. You are reviled as a monster spawned from the depths of the abyss whose legionaries know no concept of mercy."
"It lifts heart to know that barbarians such as yourselves know about history," Lucius said with a triumphant smirk, the Romans behind him laughed in agreement. Ivomandus did his best to ignore it. Lucius continued, his smug smile growing ever broader, "What you say holds true, I am to be seen as monster. In war, I am the harbinger of your demise, the last thing you will see is my Aquila shining from on high and my legionaries' boots walking over you. But in peacetime, I am calm and wise and oh so forgiving. Which brings me to such sensitive subject—"
At that moment, Metellus, one of the Mighty Three, had some trapped phlegm in his throat and it was irritating the hell out of him during this delicate matter. Metellus decided it best to get rid of it, so he moves backwards from the line and spits up the phlegm into a patch of grass.
"You Roman bastard!" Druxus, the eldest son, cursed at Metellus as he ran towards him only stopping shy because his father grabbed him. "How dare you!"
"What? What have I done?" Metellus asked with genuine confusion.
"Have you lost mind?! How dare you spit on such sacred ground, you should count yourself lucking that you're even standing on this Summit, you fool!"
That was all that was needed to send Metellus out on the warpath. Why should he accept being scolded like a child from another man, from a Gaul no less! A Gaul, men that he killed scores of and often proved weak towards him. This Gaul was probably the same like everyone else, weak. And it was necessary to put him in his place.
Before Metellus could even run to tackle the disrespectful Gaul, both Aelianus and Arminius held Metellus back from further escalating the situation. Metellus and Druxus were exchanging a volley of curses and death threats against each other, with their leaders caught literally right in the middle of it. Lucius raised his hand up in front of Metellus, effectively silencing the feuding Roman legionary.
Metellus calmed down and backed off as did Druxus, yet the two man had their murderous stares fixated on each other for the rest of the talk. "I would expect your son to have been properly raised with better manners, Ivomandus," Lucius condemned.
"He acts within reason as I have taught him, we stand on revered ground and in no way will we allow any desecration on such hallowed soil," the chieftain stated adamantly.
With a large smirk on his face, Metellus leans in and whispers to Arminius, "How would you think that Gaul would react knowing I took a shit by that tree half an hour ago?"
"Listen well Romans!" the chieftain continued, "It was on this soil where warring brothers, Rianorix and Vindex ended the dread civil war amongst the tribes of—"
"Cease talking of past history and open ears to the present transgressions!" Lucius irritably demanded. All of the faces of the Gauls twisted and contorted in anger, especially Ivomandus the Chieftain. This was there history and the Roman who slaughtered his people shits on it with little regard. But since this Roman had the superior army, what could the chieftain do but bow his head and move on?
"As you desire, what is it that you wish to speak of?" Ivomandus growled with clear disgust.
"Where does your allegiance lie? With the Republic or with your king, Segovax?" Lucius bluntly asked.
"Segovax is not our king."
"Yet he is king of the Gauls."
"But we do not follow him," Ivomandus explained, "Years ago, his name held such power and reverence that you could only whisper his name and chills would run down your spine like water. It all ended when you started your conquest of Gallia. Now, he has lost everything that once made him great. Five years ago, I…I witnessed your army march into Alesia, the beating heart of Gallia. It became so…clear to my eyes, that we…as Gauls, cannot stop you. It was too late. And I would not sacrifice my people for Segovax's counterattack to reclaim Alesia. It would be fruitless. So this is why, I allowed Marcus Maxentius to use our village to feed his soldiers while he waged war on the last Gallic city. So to answer previous question, I stand with the Republic, to protect my people from pillage and slaughter."
Lucius walked up to the Gallic chieftain until they were within handshaking distance, nodding his head in admiration. "You are a wise, strong, and noble leader to side with the ones who destroyed your nation to protect those under you…yet you are also a fool to later betray those sovereign over you."
"What are you speaking of?" Ivomandus asked, his eyes squinting in confusion.
Lucius stared dead into the confused man's eyes and solemnly spoke, "You say you stand under the banner of the Republic, yet your Gallic savages lied in wait for my soldiers and have ambushed them four days ago."
"I did not command such things!"
Lucius snapped his fingers without breaking his stare from Ivomandus. One of the bodyguards ran towards the general and handed him the Gallic scabbard. "If you did not order such things, than why was this found at the ambush? Look at these engraving notches, is this not your tribal mark?"
Ivomandus examined the scabbard and his eyes grew large when he found his tribal marking of two wings and a boar tusk deeply engraved in it. The stunned chieftain raised his head at Lucius, hoping that this was a trick of some sorts. But the Roman General's stoic face told him that it was all too real. Ivomandus shook his head in denial and ran to the rest of the Gauls to talk about this mystery and what could have possibly happened. Amidst the babble of Gallic that Lucius had a hard time deciphering, one word was clearly spoken out loud; "Germania".
"'Germania?'" Lucius asked the Gauls, "My ears did not deceive me; I heard the utterance of Germania."
"This must be the Germans' hands in this!" Ivomandus told Lucius. "This must have been their ploy!"
"Explain."
"Seven days ago, a large groups of Germans took around 50 men from my village. They would not explain why; they had weapons and more men than we, and if anyone resisted, the Germans killed them on the spot. We could not stop them. This must be the cause of those sullen Germanic curs!"
"I may be many things to you barbarians, but do not think me the fool!" Lucius growled. "Would you think that Segovax would tolerate the Germans taking Gauls?"
"Segovax does not know!" Ivomandus countered, "He is too focus on fighting the Romans north in Samarobriva to give such concerns for us! I tell you as honest witness to the gods that this—"
Lucius raised one hand, effectively quieting the pleading Gaul, "I do not wish to hear any more stories, just facts. Facts are what separates men from boys. I have always lived on facts, do you know why? Because they do not lie. Now facts show Roman preeminence as virtuous. And when someone lies to their sovereigns and treats them like fools…" Lucius unsheathed his sword as did the rest of the Romans behind him on instinct. All of the Gauls, except for Ivomandus, unsheathed their swords as well in defense. "…Blood is always spilt. So, before such situation worsens. Dear Ivomandus, please tell me the truth, why did you attack my legion?"
"I am telling you, Commander, I do not know!" the archer Auxilia commander said.
"How do you not know where your men have gone?!" Vitus yelled.
"I do not know! They wouldn't have deserted, maybe they left with the General and the other soldiers, but if so, no man informed me."
Vitus sighed in frustration and buried his face into his hand. He was in a terrible mood. Why was today so stressful? After his father left, Vitus was tasked with gauging the readiness of the remainder of the men in the camp. Still frustrated after the fight with his father, Vitus viewed it best to order every man in the camp to train whilst they wait for their general to return. But since Primus Pilus Cossutius, the senior centurion of the legion, was gone with half of the army; Vitus tasked himself to be the overseer of the army's training. A very tough task, but there was nothing else for him to do. Maybe Vitus was at the age where most sixteen year old Romans want to rebel, yet his own morals and upbringing told him to follow his father's orders. But if he had to be miserable for the day, than everyone had to be miserable. This day was supposed to be a light work day since the legion would not be moving for the entire day, but Vitus didn't care. They had to be training. After an hour of overseeing the Cohorts, he had to move on to the Archer Auxilia of the Cretans. Yet when he got to the Auxilia camp, he was shocked to find a number of the archers were missing. So now Vitus is here arguing with the Cretan archer Commander over where his men were.
"Fine, continue with training with them. But first, go to the Thracian area of camp and bring me their Commander, Oroles," Vitus ordered with his face still buried in his palm.
"Yes Commander," the Cretan saluted before he ran off. Vitus sighed once more, still holding a grudge over being yelled at by his father. Hopefully, he would hear the wonderful news of the Thracians already training so that he wouldn't waste his energy walking to the Thracian part of camp.
"Commander Julius!" a Roman legionary soldier shouted to him out of breath. What now?
"Speak," Vitus commanded, with clear irritation in his tone.
The solder saluted and told him his message, "Commander, we have a captured a Gaul!"
Vitus snapped out of his bad mood, "A Gaul?! Where?"
"He is blind and just wandered into the camp, we believe him to be lost, in addition he holds no weapons."
"Where is he?" Vitus asked.
"With Centurion Canarsus by the gate! He is trying to retrieve any knowledge from the Gaul."
The messenger led the young Roman Commander through the main camp until they stopped at a large crowd surrounding the spectacle of Centurion Canarsus beating the blind, defenseless Gaul senseless. Vitus made his way through the crowd of cheering Romans as they cheered when every blow from Canarsus' fists connected with the Gaul's face.
"Centurion! Enough!" Vitus hollered as he finally made his way to the front.
The centurion promptly released the battered Gaul and stood at attention as well as the rest of the soldiers present. Vitus walked over to the assaulted Gaul and examined him. The blind Gaul was in his mid-20s and was malnourished. His lips were split open in a crimson color from the centurion's beating. His nose was broken and blood was trickling out like a flowing creek. His flowing brown woodland hair was covered with filth and he smelled like he had bathed in shit. The man had an old bloodstained cloth wrapped around his eyes. Judging from how brown and crusty the dried blood was, this man was recently blinded. The Gaul himself was trembling, repeatedly muttering "Mercy" in his Gallic language for the beating to stop.
"We found him wandering into the camp, Commander," the centurion told Vitus.
"Why were you punching this man?" Vitus asked him while still looking upon the trembling blind man.
"To see that he would form proper Roman tongue," Canarsus said proudly, trying to justify his action. Vitus stood up and walked to the centurion.
"What fills mind to believe that he knows Roman language?"
"Why look at the cock on that Gaul!" the centurion chuckled to Vitus, "It must rival fucking Jupiter himself for he just walked directly in our camp. He must know our tongue to deliver a message of some sorts."
"The man is blind! He could walk into the very depths of Elysium and not be aware of it!" Vitus exclaimed. "Have you fetched a translator to understand his words?"
"I have already sent a runner to fetch the translator, Commander."
"Make a path at once! Let me through!" a voice commanded amongst the crowd. As the man made his way to the front of the crowd, a stream of jeers and hisses followed him. Oroles walked out of the crowd with half of the Romans there cursing him.
"Why in Pluto's ass are you here?!" the centurion growled.
"I am here because the Commander sent for me," Oroles said, not bothering to look at the centurion.
"With respect Commander, but it is not necessary to involve the Auxilia with this Gaul!" the centurion said.
"I called this man for a different manner, and you will mind your opinion," Vitus told him.
Shortly after, the translator came and prepared to translate everything the scrawny Gaul was going to say. "I want you to ask him, what his name is." Vitus told the translator.
"He says his name is Askos and that he wants mercy," the translator said, "He knows we are Roman by our language."
"He will get mercy if he tells me all that he knows, ask him why did he roam into our camp?"
As the translator asked more questions, Oroles got a better look at the pathetic Gaul. Upon closer inspection, something looked familiar about the Gaul. Maybe it was that all the barbarians that he fought in the last week looked the same, but yet, this man was different; Oroles knew he had seen him before.
Vitus continued with the interrogation, "Ask him why he is alone if he is blind?"
"Fortune pisses on me!" Oroles exclaimed shaking his head in disbelief.
"What is it, Oroles?"
Oroles quickly grew angry at the revelation and he pointed his finger at the Gaul and shouted, "That man was at the ambush that claimed Iphidamas' life!"
"What? How can you be sure?" Vitus asked.
"I am sure, because I was the one who blinded this man! Four days ago, as me and my men fought off the Gallic ambush; this man here came charging at me with murderous fire in his eyes. I struck first by striking his eyes. He ran away screaming, with blood pouring out from his eyes. This is the man that I blinded!"
"Are you sure?"
"As sure as the sun is bright!"
Vitus turned to the translator and told him, "I want you to tell him to answer the truth because if any falsehood falls from his lips, his life will be in danger. Now ask him about an ambush."
The translator nodded and complied with the Commander and told the weak Gaul. Halfway through, the Gaul started whimpering in fear and finally told the Romans the truth. Hearing the confession, the translator looked back to Vitus and Oroles in disbelief as he told the story, "He says that he was at the ambush. He came running at a man who had quickly killed his kin yet the warrior blinded him and all he remembers was running for hours. As the days past, he was left alone to fend for himself with very little food; he is weak to food and has stumbled to the camp by complete accident. He says he is scared and wants to return home."
"As I have said, I blinded him," Oroles reiterated. "Now why did he attack me and my men?"
"…He says he and his kin were forced into war…by the Germans," the translator muttered in disbelief in what he heard.
"Germans? Does he think we the fool?" the centurion scoffed. "Commander, allow me to silence him forever."
"Stay your hand," the young Roman commanded, "I want to hear why he said Germans."
The translator continued, "He says that the Germans entered his village with great numbers and took the men under threat of death and trained them to fight and to wait for ambush upon the Romans. To distinguish themselves, the Germans carved their Germanic mark on secret spots on their bodies."
Vitus thought carefully on this, and told the Gaul, "You may yet live, if you reveal mark upon your body."
The Gaul complied and rose to his knees and turned around and removed his baggy pants and revealed the Germanic mark of a large boar's head on the back of his thigh. The Romans leaned in examined the mark with precious intent and began gossiping amongst each other. Yet it was Oroles who confirmed it.
"I'll be damned, the Gaul speaks the truth. That is a Germanic mark, and look at the lines of the mark, they were done callously as if to make the wearer suffer."
"So that means…the Gauls never wanted to attack us," Vitus realized. This good news quickly turned sour in his mind. Father! He may do something reckless, not knowing the whole story of how these people were being forced to commit this grievous crime. He must know! He must know they are innocent!
"I have heard enough! Someone fetch me my horse! And grab another horse as well!" Vitus ordered.
"Where do you plan on going, Commander?" Oroles asked, suddenly seizing Vitus' arm.
"I am going to see my father before he makes a mistake! And you are coming with me, and we will bring this Gaul with us as proof!"
"You cannot be serious?"
"I am, Oroles. I must stop whatever my father may do. Centurion Canarsus, you are in command of the legion in my absence." Vitus commanded.
"As you wish, Commander," the centurion saluted.
Vitus' horse, Romulus, was delivered to him as another horse was provided for Oroles to ride. Oroles grabbed the weak Gaul and securely placed him on the horse. Oroles jumped on the horse and stared at Vitus who was getting on his own horse, "Vitus, nothing can stop your father once he has his heart set on a motion."
Vitus. That was the first time that Oroles called him by his first name. This must have been serious if Oroles had used his name. But Vitus remained adamant. He was determined that he would stop his father from doing anything rash. He asked the men where they saw the General go, and they pointed to the Summit where he was currently meeting with the Gauls. With a strong "Yah!", Vitus' and Oroles' stallions raced for the summit to stop the already tense situation from escalating.
"Now tell me of your plot!" Lucius demanded, his sword tip edging close to Ivomandus' flesh.
"Sheathe you sword! No acts of violence must be permitted here! This is sacred ground!" Ivomandus pleaded.
"This Summit will be razed to ashes, unless I hear suitable answer!" the Roman general threatened.
"What answer will satisfy you to claim our innocence?"
"Possibly the truth, if it is so, then tell me."
"I have told you! The Germans have took my people, maybe they are responsible for such grievous wrongs against—"
"Enough of the lies!"
"It is the truth!"
Lucius clenched his sword tighter and paced around the pleading chieftain, "My legion, will walk over your body and burn your village to the ground. The earth will always remember the cries of the dying and will drown in their blood. Tell me now!"
"I am telling you, I know nothing. Please spare us!"
"General, two riders approach from the south behind us!" one of the bodyguards suddenly announced.
"What?! Who approaches?"
"…I believe it is your son."
Vitus galloped on top of the Summit and stopped his steed in between his father and the Gallic chieftain. Vitus peered down on his father from on top his horse, slightly hoping that his elevated position would give him some power over his father. But all it did was add fuel to the fire.
"Vitus! Why are you here?!" Lucius roared, holding the fury of the sun within his eyes.
"Father, why is your sword drawn? Please sheathe it now! The Gauls are innocent!"
"Speak with clarity!" Lucius demanded, still furious that Vitus was here.
"The Germans forced the Gauls to fight us, here is your evidence."
Oroles galloped up the summit with the malnourished, blind Gaul sitting in front of him. The Thracian stopped his horse and jumped off his horse and dragged the Gaul off of his horse and presented him to everyone.
"Askos!" the eldest son of the chieftain shouted to his lost best friend. All of the Gauls began murmuring loudly in their own language. Seeing Oroles arrive with Vitus angered Lucius to the core. His stone-cold eyes locked with Oroles' eyes, trying to visually convey to the Thracian how much he hated the man. Oroles just gave a self-satisfied smirk, unimpressed by the Roman general's death glare; he knew that if he faced Lucius in a fair fight, with either a sword or their fists, he would effectively put that Roman bastard in his place.
"Why is he with you?" Lucius growled lowly to Vitus.
"I am here to stop your foolish mistake!" Oroles impudently spat at Lucius, before turning his attention to the Gauls, "This Gaul was found wandering into our camp, this man along with 50 other Gauls ambushed us. In the fighting, I blinded this man, so I seek apologies amongst you Gauls!" Oroles turned to Lucius and brought him the Gaul, "This man, as was every man in the ambush, was forced to fight by the Germans, here is the mark that proves such actions."
Oroles positioned the Gaul where all could see, and revealed the Germanic mark on the leg of the Gaul. The Romans looked at each other in confusion, the Gauls were horrified that the Germans would mark them like animals and send them to certain doom, Lucius was stunned silent, running his hand through his thinning hair. Arminius ran up to the blind Gaul and examined the mark up-close.
"Oroles is right, General," Arminius confirmed to the astonished Roman leader, "The mark is Germanic in origin. And no Gaul would dare desecrate their own body by taking such a mark upon their body."
"Do you see? Our innocence is proven!" the Gallic chieftain excitedly told Lucius, "Your son even told you that it was the Germans who were responsible, not us."
"Father, they are innocent, there is no further reason to threaten these peaceful people," Vitus said, dismounting from his horse to approach his father.
"We are willing to overlook this transgression, we are with the Republic," Ivomandus said, "We will give you food and water and whatever you need, as long as you pass through our lands in peace."
Vitus watched his father slowly pace between the Gauls and the Romans, deep in thought of what to do. To Vitus, it was simple of what should have been done: take the supplies that were offered and move on. It was that simple, any sane man would pick this route. His father was a wise yet stubborn man, but even he had to see this option as the only way. These Gauls are no threat and obviously want peace with Rome.
"You are right, Ivomandus," Lucius finally spoke with a smile, "It would benefit us both if we pass through your lands in peace."
Thank the Gods. Vitus' smile blossomed through his small face at the words of his understanding father; as did the Gallic chieftain, Ivomandus. His people were now safe from blind Roman revenge, revenge that has destroyed so many tribes in the past, but now has been settled. It was this Summit, this Summit of peace that even the most difficult truces can be formed. Lucius calmly walked forward to the blind Gaul with an honest smile on his face and drove his Gladius through the blind man's withered stomach.
Lucius swiftly removed his sword from the blind man's stomach and watched as the emaciated man fell on the soft earth of the Summit, gasping for air as he fell. Every man present, Roman and Gaul, dropped their jaws in horrified confusion. As the man wheezed his last breath as his blood forever stained the green grass of the Summit; Druxus, Ivomandus' eldest son, charged Lucius with his sword drawn, screaming in a blood rage, "You Roman cunt!"
The bodyguards quickly formed around their general to protect him from the crazed Gaul, eager to avenge his best friend's death. Once Druxus took his sixth step, three arrows flew through the sky and pierced Druxus' chest. He fell to the earth besides his friend Askos and died instantly before hitting the ground.
Ivomandus ran to his eldest son's body, while the rest of the Gauls looked around the Summit frantically to find out where the arrows came from. Lucius looked at Antonius beside him and nodded his head, confirming the signal. Antonius took out a whistle and blew it hard. At the piercing screech of the Roman whistle, around 30 Cretan archers that belonged to the Roman Auxilia popped out of hiding from the surrounding area on top of the large summit. Some of the archers came from hiding behind trees, some jumped out of the bushes, others even came out from holes that were already dug in the Summit. With all of their arrows trained on the Gauls, the Gallic bodyguards quickly threw their weapons on the ground and threw their hands in the air, knowing that they were surrounded.
However, Ivomandus wasn't the only one on the Summit to be stricken with confusion; Vitus stood on his feet absolutely dumbfounded on the situation that has transpired. Everything had happen so fast that he couldn't believe that any of this was real. What just happened? Did his father kill someone? Did he kill someone who was truly innocent of his crimes? Was this his plan for the start? Why did he go back on his word? These were the missing archers, what was going on?
"Father! What is this madness?!" Vitus yelled, pulling on his father's arm to get his attention, yet Lucius simply ignored him and watched the archers move closer to the Gauls.
The sound of hooves then resonated behind the Gauls, as a rider came from behind them and stopped in front of General Julius. The rider was Totates, who was covered in blood from head to toe and bore a twisted grin of pleasure.
"Ah Totates, your timing is remarkable," Lucius told the barbarian mercenary. "Have you procured what I have asked?"
Totates' smile widened, "I have General, he put up a fight, but I have him."
Totates reached behind him into a large black sack and pulled out the decapitated head of a young boy and tossed the head at the chieftain. The chieftain picked up the head and trembled, staring into the empty black holes in the boy's eyes; then let out an inhuman howl that shook the foundations of the Summit.
The sight of the grotesque, decapitated head of a young boy was too much for Vitus, he shook his head wildly in disbelief, then went into the bushes and vomited uncontrollably. Only Oroles could speak upon the act of barbarism, "You dare kill a child?!" he asked Totates.
"Of course," the mercenary chuckled, "Especially if the boy was the chieftain's youngest child."
Seeing all of this before him was too much for the Gallic chieftain, he fell to his knees and cradled his son's body and wept profusely. Why has this happened? By Teutatis why has this happened? This is place is sacred, neither blood nor acts of violence shall happen here! This is a place of peace! Now Druxus and Crenexis are dead before me! Why? Why has this happened? Why have the gods punished me so?!
"Ivomandus!" one of his bodyguards shouted to their chieftain. Yet the chieftain was too in shock of his sons' death to listen to his bodyguard. But if he did listen, he would know what the man wanted him to see. Off the top of the Summit, one could see the last settlement of the Gauls where the Candevaci are rooted in. The same village, however, now exuded a thick black smoke that rose high into the air. To the helpless Gauls looking on, they could witness flames burning brightly within the village.
"The village is under attack!" one of the sons yelled to their father in their Gallic language.
Yet they could do nothing, for if one man darted off the Summit, he would receive two arrows in his spine. They were powerless to do anything, as was Vitus. He looked to Oroles to see if this was an illusion of some sorts, only to be met with a shaking of the head from the Thracian, confirming the brutality of Lucius. Vitus looked over at his father and felt powerless to say anything to get his father to stop. The only words that the Roman son could utter to his father were, "Did…did you plan this from the beginning?" his voice trembling as he spoke.
Lucius gazed at his son, and with no emotion in his voice, he told him, "Yes. Why do you think I left an hour before? To set places for the archers. It ends today Vitus. It ends today."
Lucius walked up to the bawling chieftain who was mourning his sons; the tortured man looked up the Roman who has taken his sons with red-strained eyes and asked him in a broken voice, "W-W-Why? Why have you done this to me? I-I-I h-have never wronged you…my children…they were innocent…"
Lucius stared at him meaninglessly and told him with a sadistic smirk on his face, "No son is truly innocent from the sins of their fathers. As I have said, 'It would benefit us both if we pass through your lands in peace'…with you Gauls forever absent from your lands." Lucius turned to his bodyguards and the Mighty Three, "Come, bind these Gauls together! And let us show them what has become of their home."
We finally see Lucius' true colors, but will Vitus come to grips with it?
Once again, I like to thank everyone who is continually reading this fic and note that it is keeping me committed to the story.
-Kanuro5