The Last Roman (Praetorian Series - Book One) (23 page)

“How?” Bordeaux asked.

“Well, Caligula accidentally turned on my flashlight
last night, and was needless to say, thoroughly impressed. He also
knows of our weapons, but has no idea how they work. Basically he
wants us to give him a demonstration.”

“You realize,” Santino started, “that if what Hunter
rambled about last night is true, that if we do this, we will
probably change the course of history?”

“Perhaps, but it’s not like we are supplying the
entire Roman army with firearms. What harm could occur from us just
showing them what we can do? I suspect very little. However, there
is more you should know. Hunter’s done a little more, ‘thinking,’ I
suppose you could put it, and he’s got something you all should
hear.”

All eyes turned towards me expectantly.

Sighing, I retold my thoughts on time travel, and
how in the end, everything I’ve said may mean nothing. Everything
about paradoxes, light speed, and duplicating, magical, time
traveling spheres. I tried to spread things out a bit more,
simplifying information and adding more detail. I wanted to make
sure everyone was following, and that I limited confusion to a
minimum. By the time I was finished, every face seemed deep in
thought, except for Santino, who was never one for deep
thought.

“You know, Jacob. I always thought you were just
that shy guy who sat at the end of the bar and got all the ladies
because they saw some deep, contemplative, brooding type fella,
just looking for some love. Now, I’ve finally realized thate you’re
just a big nerd.”

His joke received the desired response. Everyone
laughed and it snapped them from the looks of worry they all wore
after having just heard how dire our situation actually was. Soon,
the group was arguing amongst themselves about how we were going to
get back, except for Wang, who still seemed wrapped in his own
little world.

Vincent got to his feet, raising his hands for
silence. “Whatever the case may be, we need to worry about our
safety and survival, so we focus on the demonstration, if for
anything, so that they’ll agree to dig out McDougal so that we can
put him to rest. Bordeaux, do you still have any explosives?”

“
Oui
, I was not forced to use it all on the
cavern. Besides, that container has plenty.”

“Right. I forgot. Good. We’ll use some of it in our
demonstration. A small amount, however. We don’t want to give too
much away. Wang, leave your medical supplies here, but bring some
pain relievers, maybe we can impress them with our medical
knowledge as well. The rest of us will demonstrate rifle and small
arms fire. Strauss, can you field your DSR-1?”

“I should be,” she replied, trying to stretch her
injured leg, “as long as I can do it sitting down. I can’t stand
for long on my own and I don’t think I could lay on my stomach with
my leg.”

“Fine. Hunter, back her up. We can’t afford to botch
this one. We need to impress them beyond a shadow of a doubt, so
look sharp.”

***

An hour later, we were joined by four
Praetorians.

Leaving our wetsuits in the room, we wore navy blue
BDUs Bordeaux found in the supply container, and donned our full
complement of combat gear, sans headgear. The men who came for us
had not been involved last night, so when they got a good look at
us, they were humorously shocked. We had to look even more imposing
than we did in the dim moonlight.

Hesitating, the centurion stuttered slightly when he
spoke to Vincent, making him a little tough to understand. The
message seemed to get across, however, and we soon found ourselves
walking through the streets of Rome on a warm, late afternoon
day.

As opposed to last night, where there had only been
a few drunken miscreants about, there were now hundreds of people
lining the streets going on about their daily lives. Men were
gathered in small groups, discussing the day’s events, while the
women carried baskets, and bundles of clothing, going about the
day’s errands. Each noticed our arrival, and their attention
immediately shifted to us. A few women dropped their baskets, while
plenty of jaws dropped all around. Some of the more confident
children braved an attempt to touch us. They were rewarded with
warm smiles, and maybe tousled hair, all in an attempt for us to
show our friendliness.

Our march through Rome was short lived. We passed
through a gate, beneath a large wall that must have stretched
around the city. Since we had arrived in the days of Caligula, it
must have been the Servian Wall, the original wall named for Rome’s
sixth king, Servius Tullius. The Romans weren’t big on defensive
walls, relying on their legions to defend them instead. It wasn’t
until the Aurelian Wall was erected that there was a defensive
barrier around the entire city. The Servian Wall didn’t even cross
the Tiber River, and there were many buildings and structures
outside its defenses such as the
Campus Martius
and the
Castra Praetoria
, near where I believe we had just spent the
night.

I knew the layout of ancient Rome fairly well. I’d
studied the city extensively in college, and knew that since we
were heading southwest, and passed through the walls, we had to
have come from the barracks that housed the emperor’s Praetorian
cohorts, the
Castra Praetoria
. While we probably didn’t
actually go inside their fort, built by Tiberius at the prompting
of his prefect Sejanus to house the entire force of Praetorians,
but we probably spent the night in a nearby house.

I felt a slight rush as we passed into the
pomerium
, the sacred city limits, thought to have been drawn
by Romulus as he drove his plow around the Palatine Hill and
surrounding area, hundreds of years ago. The ‘line’ wasn’t real,
but I estimated we were in the right place.

The
pomerium
was an interesting piece of
history. Romans considered only that within its imaginary border to
actually be “Rome,” while everything outside was simply territory
owned by Rome. Foreign sovereigns could not enter into it, weapons
were not allowed and only Praetorians had permission to carry them
as long as they were concealed by their togas, which is why you
never saw them walking around in their armor.

Rounding a large hill, I saw what I could only
assume was the
Circus Maximus
, only a few miles southwest of
where we stayed the night. My eyes were drawn to the enormous
structure, still in the prime of its life, and they widened in awe.
The stadium held various races, gladiatorial fights, and other
spectacles and was the largest open aired stadium on the planet, a
record which would still stand in 2021 were there more than just
remnants of its foundation left. It was here that in the movie
Ben-Hur
, Charlton Heston raced his childhood friend turned
enemy, an event which took place only a year or so ago from this
point in history, during Tiberius’ reign.

At least it had in the movie.

I felt another chill as we passed through the gates.
I started thinking about just how many charioteers and gladiators
never made the return trip home. I wondered if we would meet that
same fate in this historical structure. Hopefully, all would go as
planned, and we would leave with the key to the city instead.

We made our way through a maze of hallways, before
emerging onto the field. It reminded me of my old football field,
with the track running along the perimeter, except this field was
much larger, and had a large structure which ran through the
middle. It was known as the
spina
, which acted very much
like the vertebrae of the field. On the
spina
were roman
idols and an Egyptian obelisk, put there by Augustus, captured in
Egypt. That obelisk was moved by Pope Sixtus Something to the
Piazza del Popolo
, just outside of St. Peter’s Basilica, and
was still there the last time I checked. The stadium also sported
bronze dolphins, which could pivot downwards to indicate how many
laps had elapsed in a race.

Walking along the dusty track, we made our way to
the imperial viewing stand, where I noticed Caligula, and a number
of other men and women were already present. The women sat in the
back, quietly chit chatting amongst themselves. There was one young
woman in particular who was pregnant, and had a kind of beauty that
was unrivaled amongst the group. Her blond hair and sharp nose gave
her a sinister hotness found mostly in the movies. She looked
familiar somehow, and when she winked at me, I almost dropped
Helena. Last, but not least, I couldn’t help but see the small man
I had seen in the cavern the night before, who was very quickly
beginning to annoy me.

Coming to a halt in front of the grandstand, I
realized just how ragtag we looked, with Bordeaux limping along,
and me practically carrying Helena. I hoped we didn’t look so weak
that Caligula would jump to the conclusion that we were of no worth
to him after all.

No, he was aware of our wounded. The man knew
combat, and would understand our situation. He’d wait until he saw
what we could do before he made any kind of judgment.

Vincent, taking the initiative, snapped to attention
and pounded his fist against his chest before extending his arm in
a very Hitlerian type salute, used by the Romans long before that
menace had slandered it’s meaning, the only difference being that
Vincent’s hand was closed.

In as commanding a voice as he could manage, Vincent
laid out our case for those present. “Hail, Caesar. My comrades and
I are here to prove our loyalty through a demonstration of our
skills and technology. As we discussed, should we succeed in doing
so, we would like the opportunity to retrieve our fallen leader, as
well as some equipment left behind.”

I froze for half a second. Vincent did a good job of
surreptitiously adding the fact we had gear down there, but I hoped
he hadn’t overplayed his hand. We didn’t need Caligula getting
suspicious.

The Roman emperor approached a railing and lean over
the edge on a forearm almost nonchalantly. “Should you meet my
expectations, I will agree to your request. To help facilitate my
decision, I have requested the presence of some of my closest
advisors, friends, and family.”

That sounded odd coming from an emperor with a
reputation like Caligula’s. Maybe historians got more wrong than
they thought, but I had to remember to keep things in perspective.
We knew little of his few sane months, but for all intents and
purposes, he had been a promising young man.

“Gathered here are some of my generals, members of
the senate and my uncle, Claudius,” Caligula continued, sweeping
his right arm behind him.

Claudius?

I looked amongst the gathered men, but could not
spot anyone who fit his description. I wasn’t sure what he looked
like, but he was known to stutter and twitch, not to mention he was
described as feeble and weak. Unfortunately, none of the men
present exuded any of those qualities. One man was tall and blond,
with the short hair reminiscent of Caesars, but was far from the
feeble stutterer I imagined.

Claudius must be in the back, out of sight
somewhere, which wouldn’t have been a surprise considering his
reputation.

“With their help,” he finished, “we will determine
whether your existence shall continue, and whether you have a place
amongst my people. Now. What will you require?”

Vincent answered immediately. “First, we need our
weapons. With them, we will demonstrate their range, accuracy and
lethality. In order to do so, we will need a dozen spare suits of
armor set up to appear like men. We will also require a large piece
of fruit, and a marble column as thick and strong as you can spare
and move here.”

Smiling, Caligula replied, “Is that all? Perhaps I
should have the entire Gaulic war band present for you to defeat.
Perhaps then,” he said, the arrogance and depravity that was
missing earlier now surfacing, “you would be able to do
enough.”

Vincent returned his smile. “I think we’ll be all
right.”

***

Forty five minutes later, our column finally
arrived. A simple stone cylinder, barely Doric in style, it was
easily the width of a large oak tree, and twice as tall as
Bordeaux. It would explode beautifully.

During that time, we were presented with our
confiscated firearms, and had the opportunity to quickly inspect
them and make sure they were ready for use. I had to admit, it felt
good to have Penelope back in my hands, her reassuring weight doing
wonders for my confidence. I pulled back the cocking mechanism and
checked the ejection port for any kind of tampering or dirt
buildup. It seemed clear, so I released the mechanism with a loud
clank, resulting in murmurs spreading through the crowd. I turned
to look at them, a nervous smile on my face, before returning my
attention to my gear.

Caligula noticed our focused attention and returned
to the railing. “While we are waiting,” he said impatiently, “why
don’t you describe what these weapons do.”

Vincent nodded, pulling a magazine from a chest
pouch, and extracting a bullet. “Of course. This,” he said,
indicating his upheld M4, “is called a rifle. These are our primary
weapons. Most of the ones we are using are of various design and
model, each having their own particular benefits and deficits. We
all chose our particular rifles based on which one we felt suited
us best. Each of our weapons fire a certain size projectile, which
is different depending on the rifle.”

He held up one of the bullets and demonstrated how
he loaded it into a magazine.

“This small object is a bullet,” he said, always
using the English terms to describe modern items. “We insert it
into what we call a magazine, which holds multiple bullets. Then,
to prime the weapon we insert the magazine thusly.”