19 b.C

It was a good life. It seemed like there were no worries in the world.

The boy found in the middle of nowhere was accepted into the community in no time. Not only did the story of his finding make the elders think it was providential: as soon as the child found himself in comfortable arms and with his food necessities covered, he started smiling and he never stopped smiling at the tiniest occasion, and it melted the heart of every woman in the village. The couple who had declared themselves their parents gave the child the name of Argantonio, suggested by a neighbor. The name of an ancient king, very fitting, because he had quickly become the king of his house, the pride of his parents, the one who got everything he asked for. Many children stop attracting everyone's attention as they grow older and their cuteness fades, and Argantonio had to compete with three more younger siblings—whose coming, people said, had taken place thanks to him being a blessing and a lucky charm for his family—, but the tribe still enjoyed watching him, always running around as if he had unlimited energy, always laughing, always willing to bring his mother the flowers he picked from the prairies help his father with his blacksmith work.

Life was placid those first eight years of existence.

Until he heard that name for the first time.

"Rome."

Something worried Mother and Father. Father was attending a tribe assembly while Mother looked out of the window with an expression which worried young Argantonio very much. He was small, but he was old enough to understand something was not right. She didn't smile as often as she used to.

"What is it, Mother? What's Rome?"

"Rome..." she started to say, her voice faint. She shook her head, nevertheless. "You shouldn't think of such things, my precious."

"Why not? You are talking about it all the time, Father and you. Everyone in the village is talking about it."

Mother didn't say anything, her eyes gazing through the window again.

"What is wrong with Rome?" Argantonio insisted.

"...He is coming for us..." She was forced to admit. Perhaps there was no point in hiding it from him...

"Is it an enemy? Like the Vascones?"

"...Worse…"

Worse? Worse than the terrible Vascones? Argantonio's imagination ran wild at the thought. The adults talked, travelers shared news and rumors. He and his little friends had heard stories. Stories about something terrible called crucifixion, which, for what Argantonio could infer, implied people being nailed to some wooden platform and being left there to rot, to be eaten by the birds. Stories of perfect soldiers, carrying very strong weapons, well trained for all kinds of circumstances. Stories about Viriathus, the great leader of the Lusitanians, being betrayed and killed by their own men, and that happening to so many others. The one that probably scarred him the most was what the neighbor told his mother and some other women some days before: the legendary fate of the city of Numantia succumbing to a thirteen-month siege, preferring to burn the village, cut their children's throat and killing themselves than falling into the hands of Rome. He remembered how the women were silent, pale. Rome had been around for centuries. He was ever since he heard from Carthage that this land was full of riches. The Iberians had learnt to live with his shadow lurking over their heads. They had learnt to be prepared for his coming. Some tribes had made deals with him, just to be safe or seeing the advantage of being his allies. But this little Asturian village had refused to have anything to do with Rome for centuries, because he was not a trader like Dame Carthage was. Rome simply took what he pleased. They had avoided him all of this time. But now he seemed to be determined to take over the whole peninsula, not to leave any loose threads. He was coming for them, and this time they couldn't just look away...So Father and Mother...All the elders and even the women wondered...when Rome finally made it to their village...would they have the courage to take the Numantian's example?

"So...Are Father and the other men going to war against them?"

He was devilishly perceptive, like all children. Her throat moving up and down didn't go unnoticed.

"Argantonio, I want you to promise me something…"

"Anything you want."

"...Whatever happens, please take care of your brother and sisters."

So it was true. They were at war. Father was likely to be killed, and Mother sold as a slave. Argantonio surprised himself barely reacting to that implication. That was no time to cry of worry. Mother needed support. If something happened to Father, he would be the man of the family and he would have to take the responsibility of taking care of all of them. So there was only one thing he could say.

"Yes. I promise."

If that Rome was on his way, they would face him! Argantonio was willing to take a weapon and die if it was necessary to keep them at bay! He and his friends, who had also been warned about something big and scary coming their way, started playing warriors with wooden swords. War quickly became their favorite game. "Take this and this, Rome!" They shouted at the poor one who was forced to play the villain, hitting him with the sword so bad it often ended up in him running to his mother crying.

But what worried Mother didn't turn out to be a war, but a capitulation. The tribe was too small, it was unlikely that they would have gotten any help. And Rome was so savage, so well organized and equipped. Surrendering before the clash even took place may have been a cowardly thing to do, but at that moment it seemed like the only sensible thing to do. That was what the tribe decided. Some said that those who collaborated with Rome got food and weapons to conquer other lands with them...

When Rome came, the tribe did nothing to stop him.

Every mother had her hands on her children, as if they wanted to protect them from the men who came into the village in a big procession of soldiers and horsemen. Argantonio's mother was holding hers so tight little Aunia started to complain she was hurting her. But Argantonio didn't want to be protected. He released himself from his mother and took a few steps towards the man who was on the front, riding a dark horse. A man of tanned skin, with dark brown hair and some funny curls, one on the upper right side of his head, and one on the lower left side. He rode his horse with such dignity, so majestic. It almost seemed he didn't need the animal to crush someone under his feet.

Rome. The big, terrible, mighty Rome.

Just the way he had pictured him. His heart bounced by the sight of him.

And it skipped a beat when Rome turned his head to him and their eyes met.

His brown eyes opened wide, he raised a hand to attract the attention of his men. The chief of the tribe stepped forward to greet him humbly, reiterate their willingness to pledge allegiance to Rome and help him with everything he needed, but Rome barely gave him the chance to speak. He was gazing at Argantonio in such a way that he felt shivers down his spine. Then, he got off the horse and walked to him. He seemed so big in front of such a small child...

He spoke to him in a language he didn't understand. Argantonio looked around, but it seemed very little people, if anyone at all, seemed to know what was going on.

The way he gazed at him...

One of the men who came with Rome, probably the man in charge of the group of soldiers judging the way he dressed, said aloud: "The Mighty Roman Empire desires to know where you found this boy."

Father stepped forward. He was scared but he got courageous.

"He is my son."

The man translated. A fine smile appeared on Rome's face as he shook his head gently. He spoke again in that mysterious language and the leader of the group translated.

"No, it is impossible. That boy is nobody's son. This boy is sacred. Where did you find him?"

"He is not sacred. He is just a child." Mother also got courageous enough to look at Rome's face and place her hands on Argantonio's shoulders, pulling him away from him, protecting him from his gaze.

Rome let out a little chuckled and addressed the woman directly, even if he was fully aware that she didn't understand him.

"The Empire insists that he is not a common child. That boy is of his same condition. After years of wandering, he has finally found the soul of this land."

The soul of the land? What was he talking about? Argantonio didn't like the way that man was looking at him.

Yet, it was so bewitching...Like if he was not...human...but...something else...something greater than a man...

"The Empire wants to know your name, boy." The translator said then.

"...Argantonio."

Rome shook his head again.

"Hispania." He said.

"Huh?"

"Hispania. That is your real name. The name you will use from now on." The translator explained to him.

Hispania?

Rome hopped off his horse and took Argantonio's hand.

"This boy is now the Empire's property." The translator declared.

"NO!"

Argantonio flinched. It was so unexpected to hear his mother shout like that. See her pounce on that big, scary man to grab him by the collar, hit his chest with her fists.

"You can take whatever you want, take me, but if you touch my son, I will kill you with my own hands!"

Rome seemed surprised at first, but soon smiled again. He even laughed. By the way he did, he seemed to have considered this situation kind of arousing. He spoke again, or rather purred, in his particular language, while he caressed Mother's brown curls.

"The Empire has expressed his desire to take you as a concubine…"

That was too much for Father to hear. Running home to get the hammer he used for work, he came back to smash Rome's head with it.

The response from the Romans wasn't delayed. One of them, the closest decapitated him with one single swing of his sword. The body had barely hit the floor when the air was filled with shocked cries. Above them, Mother's.

Argantonio gazed at the headless corpse just for a moment, then turned his head to Rome, distracted from a loss he hadn't even begun to process because he was seeing the most extraordinary thing he had ever witnessed in his short life. He saw the conqueror stand up, blood running down his head like a cascade. His head was open, he could see the beating brains through the cracked skull. And, still, he stood up, grunting, but he was alive. He was alive enough to deliver the order. And his men started taking prisoners. Those who resisted, everyone who dared to fight or cried too loud were put to the sword.

Rome, in the meantime, tried to grab Argantonio, finding extreme resistance in his mother, who screamed nonsense and defended her child with teeth and nails, turned into a lioness ready to kill or be killed defending her cub. It was not until Rome sank his sword into her heart that he could finally get the boy in his hands and mount away with him.

Relatively calm until that moment, everything going on finally sunk in and Argantonio started to scream and fought his captor. He heard so many children cry. Among them were his siblings. He couldn't find them among the crowd that tried to escape. Rome was grabbing him so tight he felt his bones were going to crack. He had to rescue them! He had to find them! He had sworn to protect them! But he couldn't spot them. He saw Mael, one of his friends, trying to make his way to the hills along with his mother and father, three soldiers chasing them; Seihar, on his knees by his older sister's still warm corpse, being grabbed by the hair. Everything Argantonio could do was scream, call everyone's names, while his village disappeared in the distance, first a dark spot, then a big ball of fire.

'Antonius'. That was a word that was repeated frequently when he was around. It meant 'brave', and Hispania had sure earned that nickname.

All attempts to civilize that boy proved to be useless. It was like trying to tame a wild colt. Every chance he had to try to escape, he took it. No matter how many times he was punished without eating or beaten, he never learned his lesson. There were times when everyone thought that he had understood that there was nothing he could do to change his destiny, surrendered and was learning Latin for his own benefit, but it turned out he did so in order to insult the Romans in their own language—and spending so much time among legionnaires really taught him tons of profanity.

The soldiers found him very amusing and so mocked him way too often. He tried to punch them, but they only had to place a hand on his head to neutralize him. Just a push and he was sent to the ground.

"Fighty, are we? Too bad you are weak as an ant."

"Let me go!" Hispania cried, trying to punch that insolent legionnaire.

"Sure, we'll let you go when Rome allows it!"

"Get it on your head, child: you are now Rome's property." Another man said to him. "The sooner you accept it, the better."

Hispania roared and tried to break his nose, but the man only had to push him gently to make him fall on his back.

On the floor, the boy closed his eyes, but he could still hear the laughs. He wanted to cry. He wanted his mom and dad...He wanted his siblings, his friends...

"Are you going to cry?"

That voice!

There he was, the eater of worlds, the horrible, repulsive Rome, with a mocking smile!

"Of course not! I'm going to escape and I'm going to chop off your head myself!" Hispania shouted, and ran to punch him in the stomach.

Rome let out a laughter.

"What an ambitious little tadpole you are! Do you think you can kill me? With that?"

Yes, that was not enough, Hispania realized. He looked around and found something that could do. Some idiotic and sloppy soldier had left his sword on the grass.

"Hey, you!" One of the soldiers shouted, but Rome stopped him.

"This is more like it. Show me what you've got!" And he unsheathed his own sword.

The whole camp gathered around to watch the fight. Rome didn't want to hurt the child, evidently. He just pushed him to the ground and laughed comically, like an actor interpreting the role of the villain.

"Is that all you can do, Hispania? Is that all your might? You can't even hold that sword."

The boy grunted as he got up and charged again, roaring.

It was a game. Hispania acted as if he was a man but he was just a pup; Rome had to call him out on his error. He was not using his whole potential there. He didn't want to hurt the boy. Oh, but the child tried so hard. His blows were fierce. Hispania really had some hot blood and showed it swinging his sword violently. He didn't know how to use it properly and it was more dangerous to himself than to Rome, if someone was sure to get hurt it was him, but Rome was sure that if he had the proper training, he would have been cut to smithereens.

The thrust was so powerful that the sword flew from Hispania's hand. Hispania, disarmed, then hit the man in the stomach, making him fall on his knees.

"Surrender, old man!" He shouted, and jumped on him to choke him with his weight.

Rome panted, then laughed. His men let out a chuckle too.

"Using your fists in a sword fight is something low. But well thought!"

Hispania kept looking at him with intense green eyes. He had his hands around his neck, but he was tired too, and he didn't do anything to Rome in the end.

"You will be a great warrior one day." Rome said to him.

"I don't want your flattery!"

"It's not flattery, I am being sincere. You have potential, Hispania. A strong, passionate heart. That is the most important thing a warrior should have."

Hispania got off and lied on the grass, too tired to keep fighting. Still panting, Rome got up from the ground and placed his hands on his hips.

"Well, I'll be damned...Losing to a child...But you are a good one, so it is no dishonor...One day you'll become quite a bull..."

"Yeah, and that day I'll get my revenge."

"I said one day, not tomorrow. You've still got a lot to learn. Passion is an important trait but not the only one. You need to learn how to fight, discipline. I will teach you. But first of all, I will civilize you. You can't kill me if you don't have the brains!"

For the first time, Hispania had to agree on something with Rome. If he wanted to beat the best, he had to learn from him. So he finally stopped fighting and worked hard to become just like his colonizer.

With him, he supervised all the roads his men were building all around the peninsula, connecting tribes which had never seen each other in all of this time. Rome was a genius and since Hispania was now part of his big family, he built all kinds of buildings and artifacts that made life easier; for instance, he had a way to bring water to the driest places. He taught the boy everything about the law, gave new names to his gods, and perfected his Latin until he was able to speak it perfectly.

Hispania was beginning to behave, and Rome was satisfied. Sure it didn't have to be that difficult. But, yes, children were so stubborn...

It was then when he got the idea. He couldn't reach the boy because he was too big and old for him. But someone his age, or at least younger than he was...

"Gaul! Come here a second!"

"Attoniti Danaum proceres discrimine tanto nec dapibus relevant animos nec corpora curant, sed miseri sua fata gemunt. Mox Nestore pulsi legatos mittunt dextramque hortantur Achillis, ut ferat auxilium miseris..."

"You're pronouncing it wrong."

Hispania's studies were interrupted by that voice, a voice he had never heard before. He raised his head from the waxed tablet to find someone he hadn't seen before, either.

Golden hair, blue eyes, a matching dress, and a bright smile. That was what he found.

Hispania got up quickly, alarmed, embarrassed.

"Your accent is funny." The blond child chuckled.

"Yours doesn't sound any better." Hispania frowned.

"Well, I've just been conquered, of course mine is not good. But you have been living under Rome's rule for long enough."

"Rome's conquered you too?" That made Hispania pity this girl a bit.

"Yes."

"Did he kill your parents too? That's what he did with mine. He sold my tribe as slaves and burned my village to the ground. Now I am alone in the world. At least there's two of us..."

"Yes. I mean, he didn't kill anything of mine. I grew up with no parents. Just this farmer who found me. But there was blood, yes. It was disgusting...Your parents, you say?"

"Yes."

"But of course you know that's impossible. They were probably not your real parents."

"Huh?"

Hispania gazed at the girl, who was looking at him with a small smile.

"You are not a human."

"Of course I am!"

"No, you're not. I can see it. I know because neither am I. We are demi-gods, silly, don't you know?"

"That's all a lie!" But still he had this feeling looking at her, just the way it happened when he first met Rome...

"Then how do you explain that Rome isn't dead after what your so-called father did to him? I've been told about it, it's quite a story; people have been talking about it for long: he had the courage to hit Rome himself in the head with a hammer. And Rome didn't die. But yours stayed dead after he chopped his head off. How can you explain that?" The girl asked, her arms behind her back.

"That's because he's an evil wizard!" Hispania replied. He had caught the centuries part, but ignored it, thought that the girl was just exaggerating.

The blond child laughed.

"Oh, please!"

"I promised my mother I would take care of my siblings…"

"Forget it, Hispania. They are not your family. Just humans you came across." She sighed and spun, just to see how her dress twirled. "They come and go. It's not important. Hey, the other day I saw around here a boy who looks just like you. I bet he's really a relative of yours."

"So...you are...like me?"

"Yep. My name is Gaul."

"Mine is not Hispania. It's Argantonio."

"No, it's Hispania. That's the name Rome gave to you. You'll have to get used to it. Really, he isn't that bad. He just likes to have everything under his control. But living with him is sure an improvement, isn't it?"

"You'll see when you grow up and become his concubine."

Gaul laughed again, this time louder.

"What? Did I say something funny?" Hispania asked.

"I can't be his concubine. I'm a boy!"

Well, that was a real surprise. He looked nothing like him or the boys he used to be friends with. "Oh! I-I thought…"

"Hehehe! You really are funny! I like you."

Maybe he could be friends with this one...

"Hey, if I want to get my revenge, I should practice with the sword! Do you even know how to hold one, princess?"

Gaul smirked.

"You'll be sorry for that…" He smirked, and quickly ran to find one.

Gaul wasn't that bad. At least, he didn't feel alone anymore. Rome's plan worked perfectly. Hispania was seen playing, laughing, the way all children should be.

Revenge was something that could wait.

It was Gaul who introduced Hispania to Lusitania, one sunny day of spring.

"This is the boy I was talking you about. Aren't you just like two drops of water?"

Hispania was so astonished he didn't even reply. It was completely true. It felt like looking at oneself in a mirror! The other boy was a bit taller and his hair was longer, but he was still practically the same. Same eyes, same hair...

Both children stared at each other in silence, until Hispania decided it was enough.

"Hi. I'm Hispania."

"...Lusitania."

"I've heard about you. You really gave Rome a big headache."

"Yeah, but I failed."

"But you tried, and I guess that's what counts..." Hispania didn't want to be rude or anything, but he couldn't stop gazing at this boy. "Are you sure we are not cousins, or siblings or anything?"

"I'm very sure." Lusitania replied.

Hispania never really believed it.

Seeing this boy who looked so much like a relative of his brought back bad memories, of his family, his own siblings. He hadn't seen them in so long, he didn't even know if they were dead or alive...All people captured by Rome became slaves...They were too small to be useful...He hoped they were all right...

Rome noticed the boy's sadness, was told about his nostalgia and decided he had to do something about it.

He wanted to tell him, but he wouldn't believe it. He had heard his conversations with Gaul and Lusitania. He still wasn't convinced that he was something special.

Maybe he needed to see for himself that...

...It would probably be heartbreaking, but knowing the truth would also close that deep wound...

"I've got a little treat for you." He said after one of his lessons on legislation.

"What? Are you taking me fishing again?" Hispania asked, smirking.

"No. Something even better. I will allow you to recover your siblings."

The smile disappeared from Hispania's face.

"...What did you say?" He asked in just a whisper.

"I admit that things got out of hand when I found you. And I am sorry. Maybe I overreacted. So I want to make it up for you. I will tell you where your family went and give them freedom."

"You can't be serious…"

"What? Don't you want to see them again?"

"Sure I want! Are you kidding? It's just...It's just…"
Since he didn't know what to say, Hispania said nothing. He just embraced Rome in such a way that the man almost fell to the ground.

"Hey, careful! Hahaha! I am an old man!"

He was so excited about these news that he didn't think of the real reason why Rome was being so charitable to him. He was so absorbed by the thought of seeing his family again that he couldn't even imagine the reasons behind Rome's decision.

His siblings, Bartar, Aunia and Bricia, were serving a nobleman in Augusta Emerita, across the mountains and the rivers. Lands he had only dreamed about.

Accompanied by Rome's men, Hispania made his way to Emerita, so restless that he could have done the trip by foot. Too slow, he thought. He was so, so excited about this...A lot of time had passed. He hoped they were alright and their masters had treated them nicely. Aunia was too small, he hoped they had fed her well. As for Bartar and Bricia, well, Bartar was a bit slow, but Bricia was so smart. She would have made the perfect servant. Sure they treated her well. He had so much to tell them! He had Rome's favor now, nothing bad would happen to them now.

When they got to the city, Hispania could barely believe what he was seeing. People would often tell him years after the visit that he had barely seen anything and everything looked way more spectacular in another time, but he, who had barely left his small city, thought it was the most amazing thing. The streets, the looks of the people, the soldiers...

They stopped at a big, sumptuous villa and Hispania barely let the coachman stop the cart to jump out of it.

"Bartar! Aunia! Bricia! It's me, Argantonio! I'm here!"

He only encountered grown people who looked at him with surprise. Even among the slaves and servants he didn't find familiar faces.

"It's Argantonio, your brother! I came to bring you home!"

An old woman, who was carrying an amphora in her hands, came to his encounter, gazing at him. Hispania turned to her.

"Hello! I came to find my little siblings! Their names are Bartar, Aunia and Bricia. Do you know them?"

The woman took her time before she spoke.

"...Yes, those names are familiar…"

"Do you know where they are?"

The men coming with him finally found him. The woman exchanged a look with them.

"...You didn't tell him? You made him come all the way here and didn't tell him?"

"...What?" Hispania asked, his smile disappearing.

There was a pause.

"What should you have told me?" He asked the men.

They didn't look at him to the face.

"Bricia...was the name of my grandmother."

Grandmother?

Hispania looked at the woman in front of him. When he left her, Bricia was just four years old. That lady was...what? eighty?

He shook his head. "No, you must be wrong. Bricia is just a child. Maybe we aren't talking about the same Bricia. We used to live in the North. My children were made captive when our tribe surrendered..."

"All tribes surrendered a very long time ago. No one around here remembers those times. I do because of the stories my grandmother used to tell me, when Rome came to her village, took her oldest brother away and destroyed everything."

Hispania looked around, growing nervous.

"Do you know where she is? I don't want to talk to you. You are scary. I want to see my sister. And my brother. And my other sister."

"My grandmother's brother was taken to the mines and died in one of those when he was still a boy." The woman spoke.

"No..."

"Her sister grew up to become beautiful, and some men got interested in her. Her master sold her to a rich trader, and was never heard from again."

"Shut up, shut up, where are they, where is my sister?!"

"...Do you have any idea of how long it has been since your village was conquered?"

The boy was found sitting on the log of a fallen tree. Rome approached gently and sat by his side.

"...Hispania..."

"I hate you..."

"...I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you."

"I was so much happier before I knew..." The boy's voice trembled.

"I know. Our condition comes with a terrible price. I wanted to save you pain, but it is useless: you can't escape from it. The only thing you can do is live with it."

"I am alone now..."

"You're not. Your friends Lusitania and Gaul are like you. If everything goes as I expect, another boy from overseas will become your new playmate too. And you've got me, of course. You are a province of mine. That means we are a family. I will never leave you."

Rome wrapped an arm around Hispania. He didn't refuse.