Kanuro5: Ah, good to be back in Rome! I decided to play Rome 1 again with the Julii, hoping to relive my childhood with this game. Anywho, enjoy!
IV
Reunions
Vitus had come past the Servian Wall of Rome with the guards of the Town Watch advising him to be careful. He nodded; he was not wearing his armor or crimson cape, but a simple red tunic with a dark cloak over him that covered his sword and dagger. He carried Titia's gift in hand. Along with Vitus was his slave, Evandrus. His bodyguards stood Ligadis, Uxpho, Pytros, Kersos, and Brinkainos. Their horses were hitched to the Cavalry Stables on the opposite of the Caelian Hill, where Equestrians could hitch their horses when they entered and exited Rome. Upon entering into the most powerful city in the world, one word stuck out to Vitus.
Bleak. Such was how he would call the once thriving city. Damn bleak. It had rained considerably yesterday, and with the summer heat of Italia, the humidity hung in the air. So thick was it that many people were fanning themselves and began to perspire. The city that held around 800,000 was sunken into a quagmire of melancholy. The plague saw to that.
Men and women were still about their business within the city, except moving with caution to not touch anything contaminated. They had pieces of cloth on their faces to mask the smell of foulness that was in the air. In certain alleyways, Vitus witnessed the casualties of the plague. They were stacked on top one another, draped in black blankets and a sign posted that read, "Place here for burning." He recalled as he left Arretium from the Via Cassia—one of the many main roads of Rome—that as he approached the city, they were burning the bodies out in giant ditches with mourning family members overseeing the burnings. And his wife was in this city, among this affliction.
Titia… It was the standard Roman marriage. Arranged. Vitus' family wanted him married and desired a woman of high blood and a wealthy family. Vitus wasn't really seeking a wife, not for the reason of staying single but simply that he was often preoccupied with retraining his Legion to be thinking about marriage. But when his uncle went to him and told him that they had a suitable girl for him to marry, Vitus made no protest and simply agreed to it—secretly hoping that she could have the beauty of his sister-in-law and/or be a pleasant, charming, or agreeable person.
His intended was Titia Valerius, son of Titus Valerius, the owner of several stone quarries within the Latium region, and thus made him immensely rich; upon hearing such, Vitus knew why his uncle chosen her for him to marry. The dowry was very large, befitting one of the richest men in the Republic; but a good sum of it was given over to the Patriarch, and another sum was kept by Titia in case she and Vitus divorced—which was usually common when either party saw an advantage in marrying someone else. Vitus saw some of the dowry and most of it he had to give to his soldiers to pay their wages.
They spent only two days together as a married couple, their wedding day and the day after. For it was the day of their wedding that Odavacar attacked the Julii territory. And it was hours after Vitus and Titia consummated their marriage that he was told of the Germanic invasion. On the day following, he rallied the Twenty-Eighth Legion and kissed his new wife goodbye. Though they were just married, he remembered her glum face upon his leaving and a slight cursing of the Germanians for taking him away. But he promised that he would see her again and give her what she asked of him.
It took him a while to pass through the packed crowd of people, but he and his retinue of men eventually crossed into his destination. The Palatine Hill—the central hill—the most expensive property in Rome. Only the most elite and richest families had such real estate on the Palatine Hill. Luxurious homes stood proud and dignified against the backdrop of the gloomy grey sky. There were dead birds on the ground and sick bulls pulling carts and wagons weakly. The plague had touched here as well, yet not as severely as the rest of the city apparently. The citizens of the Palatine still draped their mouths with cloth, yet they seemed to holster a blither attitude than the ordinary lower-class citizen.
Vitus had just crossed the alley and entered the street where her family's home should be, and then he heard feminine shrieks and grunts from close by. Four girls—who looked to be of sixteen years—were fighting with one another in the middle of the street. Actually it was three-on-one by the looks of it, and the singular girl was winning. She grabbed the hair of one girl, punched a second girl in the face, and then kicked the third one in the leg. Men around them were laughing; older women were shaking their heads in disappointment, yet no one was intervening to stop the fight. The girl with her hair grabbed tried to wrangle out of her grasp, but the singular girl punched her twice in the face, drawing blood from her nose and threw her into the dirt. The two other girls picked her up and they were scampering away.
"That's right! You bitches better flee from me!" shouted the triumphant girl.
One of the fleeing girls with a bloody nose had shrieked with tears in her eyes, "You'll rue the day you attacked us, my father shall call the guards upon you and your house!"
"Good! Do it, see if I care, you pathetic pig!" she yelled back at them. "Do not dare to fucking insult my father!"
Vitus recognized the victorious girl. He sighed with a blush, noticed the murmuring crowd around her giving her stares of disapproval for her vulgarity. Vitus rubbed the back of his head with a half-smirk and approached her, "Well it lifts the heart to see that you're making friends in my absence."
Her face immediately softened upon recognizing him. "Oh Vitus! You're back!" She brushed her hair with her hand, then immediately gave him a sour sneer. "What took you so long?!"
"Uh, with what?"
"With slaying those execrable Suebi! Almost a year it took you."
He chuckled smugly, "There was a great deal many of them. 30,000 at total count. It was my mistake not sending you." His chuckle then turned to laughter, "You would have placed the fear of death into their hearts."
"Damn right I would, but now I stand here putting fear of death—" She moved her head and yelled down the street where the three girls retreated, "-into the cold, blackened hearts of worthless worms!"
"You would have made a wonderful centurion if you had been born a man, do you know that?"
She crossed her arms with a grin, "Truly, Vitus? Is such a way you greet your wife? Saying what she could have been if she was a man?"
He then folded his arms too and raised an eyebrow, "Hmm, I do not know, Titia. Is saying, 'Oh, Vitus, what took you so long?', such a way to greet your husband returning from war? I guess we are both in the wrong then."
She walked closer to him, "Oh Vitus, you should know that in marriage, the wife is never wrong." She opened her arms out and both of them fell into one another with a hug filled with soft laughter.
Upon breaking their hug, Titia noticed how several members of the crowd were staring at them. "What are you all looking at?!" she shrieked. The crowd began to look away, while others dispersed.
"You would think that their mothers taught them how impolite it is to stare," she said in a mild pout.
"And I would have thought your mother would have taught you to control your behavior."
She grinned and flexed her eyebrows up, "Ha! She tried, in your absence."
Titia was of the esteemed Valerii clan, a family whose prominence dated back to the very beginning of the Republic. They were among the pinnacle of the patrician class and their family was around the 5th Wealthiest Families in the Republic—the Julii had the distinction of being the 7th wealthiest.
Titia Valerius was a girl of sixteen with dark brown hair that bordered on black, her nose was hooked of the proper Aquilan style that showed everyone that she had proper Roman blood in her. Her breast were of moderate size, her arms and legs were slender and smooth to the touch, yet her face was that of simple plainness.
In some matters, Titia had a fierce, unbridled temper that could scare the gods, such a personality made it challenging for her parents to present as the "proper" Roman woman for marriage. Proculus joked with Vitus that if he could tame barbarians, than he could "tame" this woman. She could put up an air of poise that was seen in most highborn Roman women when she cared to, but only if she cared to. When she gave a glare to those who angered her, her face contorted to that of a Gorgon on her monthly flow. Yet underneath the iron that she built up for herself, there was a sweet nature that could be shown to her family and trusted friends.
Though Vitus and Titia were on good terms for an arranged marriage, neither of them was in that experienced stage of marriage to harbor true love between one another; for they only knew the other for a short time. Nor was it the romantic talk of youth to have fallen in love at first sight. But it would be a foul lie to say that a certain degree of fondness did not exist between them.
"So, for what purpose are you at my home, Vitus?"
"Your letter informed me how much you desired to see me upon my return."
"Uh, my letter?"
"Indeed, you wrote me a letter."
Her face was scrunched in confusion. "Uh, Vitus, I did no such thing..."
"What?"
"I had never composed a letter for you."
"You did, I have it here. See?"
He dug in his pouch and handed her the folded parchment. She unfolded it and began reading it aloud, her eyes growing larger as she kept reading.
"What is this?!" she said as she finished. She looked at her husband, "I did not write this, this is not even my penmanship! How could you receive—" Vitus could see the wheels in her mind turning. She gnashed her teeth and crumbled the paper in her hand. She turned back to her home and shouted, "MOTHER!"
The doors of her home opened, and a stunning woman in her mid-30s with cloth covering her mouth, came rushing out with her trail of slaves behind her. "For what reason do you scream in the street! Have you lost mind?! I believe I taugh— Bona Dea! What happened to your face? Did you get into another fight? Did some afflicted man breathe on you?! By Jove, what am I to do with—"
She finally took note of Vitus standing beside her. She noticed his eyes and she removed the cloth from her mouth.
"Vitus! You are here! When did you arrive?"
"Uhh…" he scratched the back of his head, "About a minute ago."
Titia was scowling at her, "Mother—"
"Oh, if only you had sent a letter, I would have had the slaves tidy up for your arrival."
"Mother…"
"What is it, Titia?"
The young woman flung the parchment at her mother, "Explain! Vitus claims that such a letter was written by my hand and such signature bares my name. And yet, I do not recall writing such a letter…"
The mother grabbed it and chuckled awkwardly as she looked to her daughter, then to her son-in-law. "How would it look if you have not sent any letter of concern to your valiant husband?"
"I do not care for looks! And he is not your husband, Mother, he is mine. And I am no poet, besides," she cocked a knowing smirk, "They say he is the greatest swordsman of the Julii, I had faith that he would survive."
He blushed a little, "Oh really, gratitude for such words… but who are 'they'?"
She looked to him, "The people, of course. They love to gossip. When I resided in Arretium, they all spoke about your campaign and several veterans from your Samarobriva campaign attested to your skill with the sword. So I had utter confidence in your return."
He was really blushing now, "That is interesting. Um, well, I do not consider myself the "greatest", there are several soldiers under my command that are better than I."
"Modesty, a fine virtue in a man," came the compliment from the mother. "Would you join us inside, Vitus? The winds carry pestilence, hurry!"
Vitus told his Thracians to wait outside as he entered. What a majestic place they lived in, the interior was decorated with the most exotic of murals depicting several renowned Valerii conquering foreign enemies, to mighty stags being felled by a dashing huntsman, even the ceiling was decorated with colorful murals of a luxurious flower garden that seemed to be blessed by Ceres in which they towered until they reached the navy blue sky that was painted. From the ceiling dangled majestic embroidered hangings, from the floors were raised beautiful pedestals of the most inlaid golden designs and fabulous tables cut from the most exquisite wood. Vitus' eyes wandered around the home in wonder.
"Vitus?" said her mother.
"Huh? Oh, apologies, what were you saying?"
Inside the atrium were about 20 slaves, all wearing pristine clothing and groomed to impeccable form. They stood at a natural rest with plates of food in their hands. "I asked if you were hungry, Vitus? I can fetch you apricots, shallots, sausage, snails, oysters, or even dormice if you would like?"
Dormice? These people are wealthy… "Gratitude for the offer but I am fine, I ate before I came." Vitus was a soldier, an ordinary meal of bread and stew would suffice perfectly for him. He did wonder how Titia would enjoy herself with him, not being served such lavish food every day.
"So when did you return to Italia?" Titia asked, taking a seat on a couch.
"Eh, about five days ago. I returned my legion to Arretium and was greeted with a most surprising celebration for the conquest of the Suebi. I thought you would have been there."
The mother took a bite from a piece of apricot, "Your Uncle sent word of such. We would have attended, truly we would have. Yet my husband has fallen ill, apologies…"
Vitus noticed Titia sucking her bottom lip and looking away.
"I heard he was stricken with the plague."
"He was, yes. We thought to escape to the countryside with the rest of the patricians, yet my husband insisted staying within the city to secure his investments… I swear, that man…"
"May I see him, to pay respects?"
"Certainly. Titia, wait here. Vitus, if you would follow me. But take one of these cloths from the slaves and cover your mouth. Like I said, it sometimes travels in the air."
"I want to see him too," Titia said.
"I know you do, but just allow Vitus the courtesy."
"But I wan—"
"Titia!"
"All right…"
Titia's mother escorted Vitus through the elaborate halls of their home and into the spare bedchamber that was used as quarantine. A thick piece of cloth was covering the door and they both entered, Vitus spotting three men treating one of the richest men in Rome, Titus Valerius. He was a man of portly size, yet was a tall man with the lines of many years on his face. His eyes were closed and wheezes exited his fleshy lips. He had a wet cloth draped over his forehead and the burning of incense bedecked the entire bedchamber. A small brazier was lit beside him and the heat was causing him to sweat profusely and his chest to heave sporadically.
"Has he regained consciousness?" Vitus asked the mother.
"He has. He was awake early. He is doing much better today; he was even able to rise up in his bed. The medicus claims that the plague may be passing him, but do not get too close to him. He had sweat most of the toxin from his body. I believe Apollo Medicus heard our prayers and bestowed natural medicine in form of our pious daughter."
"What do you mean?"
"Titia loves her father." Her smile was full of radiance. "When she heard he contracted the plague and his health faltered, she immediately came back here and stood vigil over him from a safe distance. If she had her way, she would be by his bedside; I had to say everything to keep her away from him. Titus often spoiled her when she was younger. Many girls would take advantage of their father's generosity, even I did to mine. But not Titia. She truly loved him for giving her what she wanted and accepting her… willful nature. She stayed where we are staying and prayed, I was not even aware that my daughter was pious. She stayed and prayed for him and he began to recover."
"Our Titia?"
She giggled lowly, "I know. But I am grateful to her prayers. Titus is recovering, the medicus ensures it." A silence grew between them and she motioned for Vitus to follow her back to the atrium where Titia was waiting.
"Was Father awake?"
"No, he is still resting, Titia. Just be at peace."
"Oh, alright…" Titia's eyes fell to the item he was carrying. "Vitus, what is that you are carrying with you?"
"Oh, of course! It had passed my mind. This is a gift for you, Titia."
Her mother gushed. "A gift? What is it, where did you procure it?"
"From the war with the Suebi."
"What is it? Exotic jewelry from those odious Germanians?"
He chuckled weakly, "Uh, not quite. Here, Titia."
He handed the daughter a long solid item wrapped in a cloak. Titia was surprised by its weight. She began to unwrap it.
"I would be careful," Vitus added.
She took his advice and slowed down in unwrapping it. She unveiled it. Titia gasped in disbelief, while her mother exploded in anger.
"A sword?! You offer a sword to my fragile daughter? For what reason?!"
"Because she desired one. And such words of 'fragility', I…" He remembered the beating she gave to the three girls. "…I would not use."
"She what?!"
Titia was still staring at the sheathed sword. It was of medium length, slightly longer than a Roman gladius. The hilt was wrapped in soft leather with the middle of it being adorned with a beautiful grey gem. "I… I…" her eyes were soft and beautiful. She pulled it out halfway and marveled at its make. "I adore it, Vitus. I give thanks to you," she smiled.
Her mother grunted with a roll of her eyes. "Titia, you asked your husband for a sword?! What on Gaia's great Earth do you even plan to do with that?! Carve up some girls you despise like cabbage?"
She smirked wickedly, "Such is a tempting thought, mother. But no, this should rest upon the mantle in our bedchambers. I shall use no such weapon. It is merely pleasing to look at."
"Then why by the Furies did you ask your husband to fetch this for you, why not some barbarian jewelry?"
She scoffed at her mother, her teeth showing in her mouth. "Because, mother, many boys have offered me jewelry in the past, after the ninth, it slowly grows tedious. I wanted something… different."
"Wait? Other boys?"
Titia blushed, "I do not mean it like that, Vitus. Before our marriage, well… the boys around the Palatine and Caelian often offered to entreat me with jewelry, but I always refused them. Maybe I'm spoiled, but my father often gave me better ones. A handful of those boys gave me cheap and fake jewelry with lying tongues of its authenticity." She sighed in the recalling of those memories, but looked to Vitus, "I stand impressed that you remembered our conversation about a sword, we only spent a single night together before you had to leave."
"Well, I desired to make a good impression upon my return."
She smiled at him. Vitus could she her fierce brown eyes had turned sweet. "It was not good, but that of greatness." She walked up to him and planted a tender kiss on his cheek. Her mother threw up her hands in the air and groaned.
"Domina! Domina!" a house slave came running towards his mistress. "There are soldiers at the door, they request an audience with you."
"S-Soldiers?"
Vitus and Titia exchanged glances. To him, her face was resolute yet her eyes were quivering, "I—I didn't expect those girls to actually get the guards…"
"My wayward daughter," her mother sneered, "If you have ruined us—" She followed the slave to the door and had it opened.
Vitus and Titia looked out the door from inside. In the courtyard, instead of the Town Watch, there stood ten legionaries armed with spears and shields, wearing the purple armor and capes of the Senate. They stood at attention and faced the door with faces of stone. At the front door was a centurion with his purple-plume crescent faced sideways.
"I am Seppia of the Valerii, how may I welcome you? If it is about my daughter, I offer the utmost apologies. She is going through a difficult time with her father—"
"I know not of what you speak, Mea Domina. We are not here for your daughter, Seppia Valerius."
"Oh, truly?" she exhaled. "Goodness. Then what is your purpose here?"
"Apologies for the visit, but we have heard news that Legatus Vitus Julius Germanicus has entered your premises. I request you bring him out, posthaste."
All eyes of the Valerius household fell on Vitus. Titia asked him with fragile eyes, "Vitus, what have you done to be called by the soldiers?"
"I do not know. Truly I don't."
Upon exiting the home, the courtyard had been filled with curious onlookers, all judging whether he'll be another victim of the proscription or simply be arrested. Many were vocal about the Senate's dislike of the Julii and whether this will be the start of another civil war. What he wouldn't give to silence all this incessant murmurings.
His bodyguards stood behind him in a semicircle, eyeing the Roman soldiers with disdain. Vitus stood straight and looked the centurion in the eye. "Centurion."
"Are you Legatus Vitus Julius Germanicus?"
"I am."
The centurion cleared his throat and announced with authority. "Vitus Julius Germanicus, Legatus of the Twenty-Eighth Legion, you are hereby summoned to stand before His Most Excellence, Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix, Dictator of The Republic, Imperator of the Eastern Legions."
Dead silence ruled the air.
Sulla… he wants me? "I have only been in the city for less than half an hour. H-How has Sulla become aware of my presence?"
"Such matters do not concern me, Legatus. What does concern me is your prompt arrival to the Forum to meet His Excellence. We shall escort you."
"Oh such is not necessary, Centurion. I believe I can find the Forum."
"The Dictator insists. The streets of Rome are filled with danger, so come. We leave immediately."
Ligadis stepped up, "Germanicus has stated that he does not require your escort."
"I do not answer to you," the centurion said curtly.
"Shall I repeat myself?" Ligadis approached closer, "He does not require your escort. Now step away."
"You dare intervene in the matters of the Senate?" the centurion sneered with his teeth. His squad of soldiers reached for their gladii, as did the Thracian bodyguards. Men and women gasped loudly, some began to run away, others shielded their children's eyes for the incoming bloodshed. Vitus just sighed.
He raised a calming hand to the Thracians. "Hands off your swords," he commanded firmly but softly. "There is no call for violence. I… I shall go with you. But my men shall accompany me, Centurion."
The centurion glared at the barbarian bodyguards, but he nodded towards the Legatus. "Fine."
"Gratitude, yet allow me the courtesy of saying farewell to my extended family."
"Be quick."
The young Legatus turned around to be greeted by the worried expressions of his wife and mother-in-law.
"For what purpose has Sulla sent for you?" her mother asked
"I do not know." He said, scratching his cheek. "I am not even aware how he knew I entered Rome."
"Do you think he means you harm?"
"No, I don't. If such was true, I may have been killed as soon as I entered the city. And he knows me, I fought alongside him. He does not seek my life." …Or does he? It has been a year, and if what Proculus, Statius, and Uncle Decius say about him is true… "I should be fine."
Titia opened her mouth and a soft voice exited, "When you have finished with Sulla, then…" her eyes rolled to the dirt, "Please come back to our home. Once you're finished." Her mouth suddenly tightened, "Just come back! If you skip out upon leaving Sulla, I'll—!"
He smiled softly and nodded, "Of course."
She looked back up at him, the corners of her mouth rose.
"Legatus, we must go," said the centurion.
"Understood." He motioned to his Thracians to follow close behind, and the procession of Senatorial soldiers led Vitus through the crowded and bleak streets of Rome.
The noon day hour approached, the rays of the sun penetrated the grey clouds, illuminating the square of the Forum. He recalled a time where he was maneuvering through the crowded Forum in Rome several years ago, it seemed like thousands of people littered the market; but now that number seemed to be in the low hundreds. The place was so spacious with vendors swearing that their wares did not carry any pestilence to the weary consumers. If someone so much as coughed, they were beaten away with brooms and rods to ward off contagion. But the most ghastly sight was large spikes rising about fifteen feet high in the air surrounding the Forum, with decapitated heads mounting the blades—both of men and women.
"What are those heads up there for?" Vitus asked the centurion.
"Several of them are the proscribed, but most of them were the ones who were caught aiding the proscribed," he answered, it sounded as if he was bitter.
Sulla mounts them, in the Forum? He heard some light giggling to his right. Several adolescents were playing a game in who could be the first one to throw a stone into the gaping mouths of the heads on the spikes. Bonus points if your stone could actually stay within the mouths of the decapitated.
Ahead of him, Vitus could see a crowd gathering around a certain stall. The senatorial soldiers were parting the way through the crowd and broke off into a parallel formation.
The centurion stopped and saluted, "Your Most Excellence, Centurion Flavio Mathus, reporting as ordered with Legatus Julius Germanicus!"
In the midst of the Forum, he was there, surrounded by 24 lictors, the Dictator of the Republic, Lucius Cornelius Sulla.
He was an old man in his late 50s, yet he looked older; Vitus figured that his hedonistic lifestyle of youth—which could put his brother's Proculus's earlier escapades to shame—had caught up with his figure. Sulla's slumped frame suggested that he once was tall and big in the prime of his youth, his once white teeth had yellowed and some were absent from his mouth entirely. He still had a vague attractiveness to him that once made him the heartthrob of women and some men in his formative years, but you had to look through it in the wrinkles of his face. His once full golden-red hair had whitened considerably into what seemed the same hue of snow and withered into thin strands above his scalp. He still carried a fire of gregarious spirit that he had when he was younger, and he enjoyed his walks and conversing with those that pleased him. He cavorted with many men and women of base character, and paid little mind to the talks around him about it. Yet despite his age and appearance, Vitus knew he was the wrong Roman to underestimate, he was still as cunning and ruthless as he was during his youth.
The old man turned to him, his eyes as fierce as steel but his mouth was filled with a beaming smile, "Vitus Julius, son of Lucius Julius Magnus!"
The crowd began to murmur. Vitus gulped softly, then stood straight and saluted him, "Dictator."
The dictator scoffed playfully and approached with his arms spread out, "Always so formal, Vitus. With you, call me, Sulla. Now come embrace me." He looked to his lictors. "Let him pass."
As a machine, the lictors opened up their circle and Vitus walked forward and hugged the Dictator and said to his ear, "As you will, Sulla."
Sulla kissed both of his cheeks. "Apologies, I do not address you properly. I hear you have gained the title 'Germanicus', been beating those Germanic curs out of our territories quite good, haven't you?"
"Hard fighting, Sulla. They gave us a tough year, but we outfought them all the way back to the Rhine. We do not believe the Suebi will be able to launch another attack for years."
Sulla chuckled, his voice was deep. "Spoken as a true soldier." He rested his hand upon Vitus' shoulder and addressed the crowd. "This here stands Germanicus, Victor of the Suebi, address him as proper victor."
The entire crowd began to applaud. It was slow at first but quickly grew in intensity. Sulla laughed jovially. Vitus looked on in uncomfortable silence. It bothered him to see the uneasiness and fear in the eyes of these civilians of Rome—being forced to applaud him with quaking hands and awkward cheers. Sulla treated him like a grandson, as he did with other young patricians who fought valiantly for him during his March on Rome. He was good friends with his father, Lucius Julius Magnus, and unfortunately couldn't make it to his funeral since he was forbidden to even set foot in Italia at the time, but upon meeting Vitus, he immediately offered condolences for the loss of "the Mightiest of Men."
"You must have been exhausted from walking the streets; do you care for some wine, Vitus?"
"Gratitude, but I am fine."
"As you desire." A slave filled his cup to the brim with a sweet wine that had been watered down. "I only seek to have you quenched before we continue our walk."
"To where are we going?"
"Back to my home. I desire to speak to you among less discerning eyes and ears."
Sulla patted Vitus on the back with a smile and walked forward with the young man. The lictors were still in a protective circle around the Dictator, the men in front were shouting for the crowd to make way for Sulla or face swift justice.
Sulla said to Vitus, "I ask of you to excuse the state of the city. This miserable plague has everything smelling like a battlefield. I heard Arretium is freed from it."
"You heard right. By the time I arrived, it was virtually gone. But Sulla, how have you not fled to the countryside to avoid this plague?"
"You ask me if I shall leave my own city in times of crisis? Ha! I have ventured down that road before, never again. Besides, I stand no craven, my presence in the streets inspire the people that if their Dictator shows no fear to pestilence, then why should they?"
They passed by several streets where the homeless of Rome were begging, most of them had the appearance of veteran soldiers, holding out a bowls for coins. Sulla personally broke his circle of lictors and threw several coins into every grateful bowl. They smiled and thanked him; Sulla gave them a smile, showing pieces of his missing teeth.
Sulla led Vitus up the Capitoline, the most prestigious hill in Rome. His home was exquisite, more splendid than Titia's families. It was large and wide and constructed of the finest wood that could be exported from Greece. Yet near the contours of the roof, Vitus noticed several heads mounted on spikes. Here too? Vitus thought.
Upon entry, Sulla was greeted by many noble men and women; Vitus recognized some of them and then understood who everyone was. All of them were supporters of Sulla, those that survived Marius' killings and those that sided with Sulla in his march on Rome. They all knew and were joyous that they would not find their names on Sulla's proscriptions. All of them were in a festive party with the most exquisite dancers jumping and moving with utter grace, all sorts of rare delicacies being served, and an abundant of wine being offered to everyone there, none of it watered down.
"What is this for?" Vitus asked loudly, the music from the musicians blaring loudly.
Sulla patted the young man's back, "I walk among the plebeians to show them my courage against the plague, whilst I host parties with the patricians to show that I still hold control of the city. To stay afloat, one needs balance with everyone, Vitus! Come; let us find a more private room."
Sulla escorted Vitus through the menagerie of partiers within his home. The party seemed civil and quaint—what usually passes for a patrician party—at first, yet Vitus could clearly hear the drunken moans of sex in a room down the hall. He witnessed many people holding on to mask and pieces of costumes in their hands. Vitus felt that this day party would extend into night, and then become a truly raucous affair.
Sulla led Vitus into a decent sized triclinium where several guests smiled and offered their toasts to Sulla. He smiled warmly before barking out, "Everyone, OUT!" They quickly nodded their heads and scampered out of the room, leaving only Vitus, Sulla, Evandrus and few of Sulla's slaves remaining.
"Ahhh, that is better." He motioned for Vitus to sit on the couch. A slave poured wine into Sulla's cup, and the old man sat comfortably on the couch opposite Vitus. He studied Vitus for a while, "So Vitus, offer reminder, you enter Rome and yet you do not send a messenger to me upon entry. For what purpose did you hide yourself from me?"
"Oh no, no, no, Sulla! Such was not my intent. I only came to—"
"Visit your wife," Sulla finished for him. He shrugged, "Such is understandable. You both are newlywed and you have been gone from her tender arms and her warm body for nearly a year, fighting in the bleak cold and damned forests of Germania. It is understandable for why you visit her. I do hope that I did not interrupt the reunion of your hard cock with her tight cunt." Those relaxed eyes then hardened, "Yet you did not answer my inquiry…"
"I did not expect you to care for my presence. I was gone from Italia for nearly a year and I heard you were Dictator, and that your mind was preoccupied with governance of Rome and—"
"You heard the tales of my proscriptions and alleged 'paranoia', am I not correct? Everywhere I look and listen, I hear others questioning my sanity, as if I was cursed with madness as Hercules was. That the gods have inflicted me because of my bloodletting. All these claims I hear, how I am known as "The Butcher of Rome". They seek to question me on what I do, their Dictator… So Vitus, do you stand friend to Sulla Felix and denounce these rumors as hated propaganda, or do you believe all these foul lies about my sanity?"
By Jove, that damn scowl of his… Sulla had a disturbing habit of his eyes lingering on anyone with waves of disappointment. He resembled a grandparent who caught their child in a devious act, and as the child stammered to lie or exaggerate, the grandparent would continue to stare on in silence in angered dissatisfaction. And yet, when Sulla's eyes laid on someone, his mouth would curl up in a smile of most innocence, as if he heard a wonderful joke from a lifelong friend. In combination with the bitter glare and tender smile, one could never truly tell what was going on in his mind as he looked upon you. It was joked behind his back by the patricians that no man could escape the "Scowl of Sulla."
"Ha!" he blurted out, shoving his finger at Vitus' face. His body shook as he hollered with laughter. "Oh my… your face! You looked as if you would shit out a sword!" He continued to cackle hard for several moments. A blush painted Vitus' cheeks. Sulla began to calm down. "Be at peace, Vitus. It was only a jesting nature. I do show some interest in why you have not come to visit me, but it does not bother me that much."
"It is as you said, I only came to visit my wife and bring her back to Arretium. Her father—"
"Has succumbed to the plague, I am aware. Many Romans have been stricken from this disease, many good Romans. How is Titus Valerius?"
"His wife claims that he is recovering and the worse is behind him."
"Such news lifts spirits, he is a good man and Rome shall be lessened if he passes prematurely. I must make plans to visit them and express reverence that death has not claimed him."
The young man of the Julii thought back at that word. Death. He thought back to the man who begged him to be saved from the blades of his murderers back in Arretium.
It seemed as if Sulla was in a good mood, perhaps… "Permission to speak my mind?"
"I would be disappointed if you didn't."
Vitus drank several gulps from his wine, hoping that they could give him courage. "Sulla… you have known me and seen my character… and you have known my father for a long time. So do not feel offended if I ask this, but I have been absent from the politics of the Republic for nearly a year. I must know the purpose behind these… proscriptions of yours. The day after I returned from war, I saw a man being attacked by a gang because he was proscribed. He died by my feet. And apparently, this has been occurring for nearly a year. I just… j-just… for what are you trying to accomplish here, Sulla?"
Sulla exhaled as he snapped his fingers for his slave to bring him another cup of wine. Sulla casually drank from his wine and locked eyes with the young man.
"Change, I am trying to accomplish change. You are too young to remember this, Vitus, but Rome used to be something… different. Something… indescribable, a-a-a… a purity. Something so beautiful that all men desired to hoard within the deepest recesses of their filthy souls. And so, every man fought for a piece of beauty, failing to see how in their pursuit, they muddied the… idea of what made Rome so beautiful. The Republic is corrupt, Vitus. You are of a noble family, yet you are no senator or hold ambitions of office; you're simply… a soldier of aristocratic blood. A noble and honorable calling, to take up sword against the enemies of the Republic. And as such you are not familiar with the horrid cycle of intrigue of Rome.
"The intrigue that plants seeds of paranoia, corruption, usury, and violence within every man of patrician blood. Seeds that have now grown into weeds that threaten to strangle the throat of the Republic until its holy breath… is lost. That breath is duty. And what happens when that breath of duty leaves forever? The entire body collapses. Then there is nothing left to hold anything together. Once duty is gone from the city of Rome, the entire Republic shall collapse. These weeds of intrigue cannot be fully pulled out from their roots, but they can be pruned. I am saving the Republic from itself. And do not dare label me a hypocrite, for I know that I am the seed that plants more weeds. But I do this to cease the growth of the vilest of weeds. Some of these weeds… many of them still hold on to the notions and will of Marius… how can true Romans sleep knowing that his subjects still walk the streets? I need to stamp out all dissension before more war erupts in the future. The citizens cry out for peace. But they only cry out for fleeting peace not true peace."
"'True peace'?" Vitus asked. "How can peace be true?"
"What makes it true is that it lasts. For the past 30 years, the Republic has been plagued by various civil wars, each senator fighting for control of this city to reign over it and its people. To shove their own notions and agendas down the throats of the patricians, and to break the backs of the plebeians. Such senseless war has left the Republic battered and poor. The people are fatigued of death and war. The actions I do is to prevent such from happening again. A thousand dead men for a hundred thousand Romans to live contently with coin in their purse, fire in their hearth, food on their table, and family within their arms. Oh yes, because of these wars, the Treasury was nearly empty. Many of the proscribed had to be killed to replenish the coffers of the Republic. When I took office, the finances of Rome were damn near destitute!"
He stood to his feet and turned his back on Vitus, his head looking to the ceiling. "I have been Dictator for nearly a year, Vitus. I shall step down soon. I do not know exactly when, but I am done with this… absolute power. Truly I am. This is a position of the most taxing of efforts, Vitus, and I am so tired. But I can see the sun. I can. Rome is almost pure again, there is still more I can do. But as long as those who whisper the name Marius still thrive, they shall face the wrath of the Republic."
"Know such deaths do not weigh easy on my heart, Vitus. I hear the screams of hundreds throughout the city. The putrid slate of Republic corruption must be wiped clean. And if such a cleanser is blood…" he turned back to Vitus, "So be it."
You truly believe that… don't you, Sulla? Vitus' mouth tightened and he rose to his feet, walking to the Dictator. "And what shall you do when you step down? What happens to the Republic then?"
"It becomes as it once was, a true and noble system of moral senators like the Golden Age two centuries ago. Perhaps I run for office, or perhaps I retire to the countryside like good old Cincinnatus; the sun on my face, wine in my gullet, my cock in an actresses' cunt, and my legacy in every memory."
Vitus gave half a chuckle and half a scoff, it was subtle enough that he believed Sulla didn't catch it, "And thus ends the tale of Cornelius Sulla."
Sulla raised his cup of spiced wine up in a toasting manner, "Would it not be grand?"
"Sulla… I extend gratitude for indulging me in your motives. I do. And I offer no disrespect in any way, but… I must ask you, Sulla. For what purpose have you summoned me?"
Sulla looked to all the slaves in the room and told them with an iron glare, "Leave us." The slaves quickly scampered out of the room. Sulla stared at Vitus's slave, Evandrus. "He needs to leave too, Vitus." Vitus nodded to Evandrus to leave.
Sulla rubbed his mouth and looked to Vitus, "I had almost forgotten… Now that we are alone… Vitus, what I am about to disclose to you, you cannot repeat to another soul unless I have directed it. Do you understand?"
"I do."
He placed his goblet of wine down, and sat down in his seat. "Let me clarify, if I become privy to another who repeats what I have told you, I shall personally etch your name and that of the person you told onto my list."
A painful shiver crawled down the young man's spine. He nodded, "I-I-I understand, Sulla."
His eyes were still sharp as a lion's. He nodded softly, "Good. Tell me, Vitus. What do you know of the Arcani?"
