Swords of Rome (29 page)

“Forward, quickly!” Gaius yelled as he and his men rushed through the city gates.

Several dozen people took advantage and ran forward
as well, forcing their way through. Their efforts were cut short as the city cohorts attacked them, beating anyone they grabbed with clubs before pushing them back outside. The larger mass of people met with the Roman formation once Gaius and his century were safe. They bashed blunted swords against their shields as they carefully marched.

Some of the bravery men challenged
the approaching Romans, urging those behind them to try their best to overwhelm the guards, but most, fearful of bruise and broken bones, after watching other refugees beaten down, decided against heeding the encouragement from those in front.

Moments later, the savage beating of already sickly and starving refugees began as the city guards easily manhandled the mob back outside the gates, before the heavy iron bars came crashing down. Those that were still trapped inside, were rustled to the ground, their foreheads bloodied, arms broken, crying out in pain as they were dragged away.

“What the hell is going on here? Why are the gates sealed, and these people forced to suffer beyond our walls?” Gaius demanded between heavy breaths.

“I apologies, sir but
two day ago the Senate declared martial law, recalling all soldiers beyond the walls back into the city, and the gates to be sealed until further notice. I wasn’t aware that any of our men were left outside during the recall,” the guard captain reported.

“We’ve only just returned from the north. Now tell me, why would the Senate do such a thing as forbade these
people entrances into the city? Do you know what they have already endured? For crying out loud, man, there are thousands left along the road leading to Rome, dead, food for the birds.” Gaius could not hold back his disgust. He had promised those he escorted that Rome would be haven for them, that the Senate would embrace them and bandage their wounds. However, the sight upon reaching the city, and the fowl stench within Rome’s walls, made him sick to his stomach.

“I am sorry, sir.
After the riots, which left much of the city in ruins, the Senate did what it felt was best.”

“Why then do the people riot?” Gaius asked, dreading what his gut was telling him. Rumors had already reached him, which he prayed to the gods couldn’t be true.
However, from the sorrowfully stare from the guard captain; he knew the truth before a word was uttered.

“Trasimene, sir -
Flaminius’ legions, all of them, to the last man – they are gone – thirty thousand men, just gone.”

“My word...” Gaius could hardly contain himself. He felt
weak in the knees, his mind struggling to comprehend what his ears were hearing.
So many men...The Sixth...Valerius, all gone,

“
What about survivors?” Gaius asked.

The guard captain scratched his head, seemingly trying to remember.

“There have been a few trickling in, here and there. Even so, the Carthaginians have been hunting them down, slaughtering them like wild game, or so I’ve heard. Needless to say, when the word reached the mob, well, they acted like anyone would, I suppose. They rioted, nearly burning down the Senate House. Damn near a quarter of the city went up in flames. Those few days, well, I’m glad you weren’t here to see it, sir. I don’t enjoy putting the sword to our people, but orders are orders.”

The guard captain sighed heavily as he spoke again.

“Will there be anything else, sir?”

“No. Thank you. Carry on,” Gaius answered. The captain saluted and then rushed off, barking orders
at his men as they continued to hold back the mass of people beyond the gates. Gaius hoped, but knew it was wishful thinking that this same scene wasn’t repeated at every entrance to Rome.

“Well, what do we do now,” Maurus asked, having ov
erheard the entire conversation.

Gaius wasn’t too sure. He had been hoping to rejoin Valerius and Sixth Legion up north, but that was obviously out of the question now. At the moment, however, only one other person came to mind.

“I need more answer as to what is going on. Come, gather the men, we march, now,” Gaius replied.

The streets were nearly empty save for a few citizens who ran, with fear as they saw Gaius and his men marching down the narrow road. It was eerie. He was used to the volume of business and trade that normally occupied every block, but what greeted him was empty shops and boarded-up windows. Soldiers were everywhere, patrolling with orders to take anyone into custody that were out passed the curfew, or looting those shops that were abandoned or burnt-out.

Gaius understood the reasoning behind the riots well enough.
Two armies sent north, tens of thousands of men and two consuls, dead, left to freeze in waning winter months before the thaw. The mob wanted answers as to why their fathers and sons would never come home – what was the Senate going to do, and how would it protect Rome from Hannibal, who was fast become a man of mythical standing. However, the sights that Gaius witnessed, the stacks of dead, piled up like winter logs on carts, the smell of lingering death and burnt wood, and the sense of sorrow and hopelessness was overpowering. Rome felt like a blotted corpse – a defeated city, and Hannibal wasn’t even within sight of its walls.

For the moment, Gaius’ only concern was checking on his friends. He prayed every step he made that
Antonyand Julia were safe. Had they left Rome before the riots, or had they endured? These questions plagued him without end until finally, he saw his destination as, he, and his men marched around the block, and turned down the street that led to Varro’ estate.

Gaius’ eyes opened wide as
instinctively his right hand fell to the hilt of his sword, when he saw two dozen men, armed, standing outside the home of Antony and Julia. With them were several more slaves as they moved an assortment of furnishings, statues and other personal items into horse-drawn wagons.

“Looters, you suspect?” Maurus asked as he saw Gaius’ sudden reaction.

“I do not know. However, they don’t look too friendly. Stand ready on my mark. I don’t want to give them a moment to act if this should turn bad.”

“Never fear, my friend, we have the numbers,” Maurus mussed.

“Numbers haven’t worked so far in our favor,” Gaius added.

The steady marching of
his men quickly drew the attention of the armed men around the home of Senator Varro. Their leader, a tall broad-shouldered man, shaved head and numerous scars, most likely a former gladiator, eased his hand over his sword, watching with careful attention as Gaius and his century came closer.

Many of the big man’s men weren’t as seasoned, or ready for a fight. Some seemed panic by the sight of a hundred Romans marching towards them, but still, more than a few stood ready to fight if one was called for.

“I am Centurion Lucius Gaius of the Sixth Legion,” Gaius called out with a firm and commanding voice, one that showed nothing of his apprehension. “And I am looking for the master of this house, or his children.”

The leader of the gang sneered as he stood firmly between Gaius and the entrance
into the house. Smoothly, not quickly, he drew his sword, but held it down in a relaxed position. Gaius in return did not order his men to draw their weapons, even though many of his boys were edgy about drawing their iron.

“
You can look, Centurion Lucius Gaius, but you cannot see,” the gang leader replied with a strong hint of distaste in his voice.

It was then that Gaius wondered if these men weren’t here to rob
Varro’ home, but hired to protect it. If so, a hundred Roman soldiers marching toward the front gate could be seen as an act to arrest Varro, who would be paying these men to keep him safe. So, Gaius eased himself, controlling his next words so not to sound too threatening, but still remained firmed in his determination to get through those gates.

“
I am
not
here to harm the senator or his family. I seek an audience with them, to ensure that they are safe. Now, kindly move aside before bloodshed is required,” the threat was purposeful, which got the reaction he was hoping from a number of the opponents as they seemed to shiver at the prospect of fighting well trained soldiers.

The gang leader smiled as he leveled his sword, aiming its point at Gaius. This action caused nearly all of his men, those most eager for a fight, and not fearful of Roman soldiers, to draw their weapons.

There was nothing Gaius could do to stop his men from responding, as a hundred swords were pulled, save for his own. He did not want blood to be shed, but he doubted words were going to work against this man either.

“The senator has all the protection he needs. Now, be gone with you, before I carve my name in your pretty young face.”

The threat was implied, and Gaius knew this man would not allow him to say another word before a sword came at his head. There was only one course for him to take right now – he needed to see Antony and Julia – he promised to keep her safe, and a gang of thugs weren’t going to stop him from keeping that oath.

A
voice called out, distracting everyone’s attention away from the conflict.

“Enough! Stop this madness, at once! Move aside
you bloody fool, now I say!”

Gaius realized it was
Antony’s voice before he saw his friend push his way between the hired goons.

“By the grace of Jupiter al
mighty, Gaius, you’re alive!” Antony cried out as he rushed over and embraced his old friend, throwing his arms around him without holding back his joyful emotions.

“What is happening here,
Antony?” Gaius demanded as he nodded his question toward the big lug that stood before him.

Antony glanced back
and leered at the gang, unable to hold back his anger.

“Lower
your damn weapons, I command you! Who do you think you are raising swords against a Roman officer?!"

“We are only doing the job your father paid us to do,” the gang leader replied, but he did as he was told as he
withdrew his weapon, but clearly unpleased about Antony’s tone of voice.

“Ignore them, Gaius, they are goons hired by my father to safeguard our home and us from the rioters – mindless dogs, nothing more. Come, bring your men inside.”
Antony waved his hand violently at the gang leader as if he was shooing a fly from his path, before he led Gaius and his century into the courtyard of his father’s home.

“Bring water, and food for these men, at once!”
Antony demanded to a group of slaves who were busy moving furnisher from the house. They dropped what they were doing and ran off, gathering more help as they carried out Antony’s demands without question.

“What is going on here,
Antony?” Gaius asked.

Antony sighed
deeply as the first group of slaves brought back buckets of water and fresh-baked bread. Maurus took command as he directed the men to corners of the large courtyard, while issuing twenty men to stand watch by the front entrance, clearly none-too-trusting of the gang beyond the walls.

“My father, he is running, like many noblemen have done over the past few days. He is packing our stuff and moving us to our country estate where we can be better protected, or so
he would hope.”

“You are no safer out there, not with Hannibal and his horde running
about unopposed,” Gaius commented.

“I know, but there seems no place safe, regardless. He acts out of fear, nothing more.”

“It is that bad?” Gaius asked.

“I’m afraid it is worse,”
Antony shook his head. “Once word reached the city about Flaminius’ death and the defeat of his army, the people demanded answers from the Senate. However, those old fools had no answers to give. Some ran, fleeing for their own estates, or heading elsewhere out of Italy. The people, well, they just went mad.”

Antony closed
his eyes as he recalled what he had seen.

“By the gods, Gaius, our own soldiers were slaughtering people in the streets, in droves. I barely escaped the madness myself.”

“Then, the Senate must call more legions from the frontier to safeguard Rome,” Gaius spoke, more demanding, as if he was in the Senate addressing its members.

“It is not that simply, I’m afraid. While the Senate is taken Hannibal
seriously now, the bloody Macedonians have started a rebellion. What capable legions we have in Greece are forced to remain there to safeguard our settlements there, and our grain shipments, or else we all starve, Hannibal or no Hannibal.”

Antony led
Gaius into his home. To his amazement, the place, which had been pristine upon his first visit months before, was sorry, as the floors were filthy, caked with layers of muddy footprints. Most of the furnisher was gone, as well as the potted plants, marble statues, the family death masks that dominated the far wall, and even the gold tiling had been removed from the floor.

Antony sat
down on one of the few chairs that remained in the house, as a slave brought him a cup of honey wine. Gaius, on the other hand, refused his drink, and chose to remain standing as he tried to wrap his mind around the information he had learned in the past hour.