The Last Roman (Praetorian Series - Book One) (56 page)

She shrugged at me and smiled.

My shoulders slumped. “You’re lucky you’re my best
friend and my girlfriend actually happens to like you,” I told
Santino. “When does that ever happen?”

He smacked me on the shoulder. “Couldn’t have
happened to a better guy. Now. Can we please go?” He asked, moving
towards the other side of Helena and taking her other arm, tossing
her cane on my couch.

“Seriously, Hunter,” she said. “I’m starving!”

I sighed, completely defeated. “All right. At least
this should be an interesting evening.”

Interesting? Maybe, but I wasn’t exactly looking
forward to it.

Reclaiming an empire, even when you were the
legitimate sovereign, wasn’t an easy task. When we had marched into
the city, there were small pockets of resistance of little
consequence. Stubborn senators with delusions of grandeur and
dreams of a seat on the throne, defended their lives with hired
servants and slaves. These were the men who had probably planted
the seed of rebellion in Claudius’ mind to begin with, unaffected
by the orb, their own egos fueling their quest for absolute power.
Any remaining Senator who couldn’t prove his loyalty was likewise
crucified next to their Praetorian allies. As for the orb, it was
history. It was taken to an undisclosed position by Varus, and he
hadn’t told us where it was. No one knew where the second one was
either.

The next step was a conscription, which was
basically a list of names, and if yours was on it, you were a free
target for any legionnaire, bounty hunter, or civilian alike
willing to sell your ass to the State. Any and all assets were to
be seized and your life forfeited. Dictators like Marius and Sulla
had abused the process to eliminate those disloyal to them, but
Caligula only targeted those directly involved in the plot. Almost
a fourth of the Senate was rounded up and crucified, order had been
restored, and those who remained would think twice before ever
crossing Caligula, especially with his devoutly loyal Sacred Band
by his side.

Finally, where the patrician families of Rome
suffered, its lower classes prospered. After the siege, Caligula
ordered immense grain supplies to be imported to the city from
neighboring towns. Each were completely willing and happy to help.
Some plebian families even found their way into new found wealth
and power. Those who had rallied against Claudius during the siege
were commended, and some offered vacant Senate seats, and with it,
the honor of citizenship.

To further benefit the people of Rome, Caligula had
proposed plans to erect a stadium of epic proportions, one that
could hold immense gladiatorial fights, races, and naval battles,
all for the viewing spectacle of the people. It had been an idea
whispered in his ear by Vincent, along with a suggested location,
right in the vicinity of my current home. Caligula thought it was a
good idea, and promised those residents they would be moved to
better homes, and recruited a young, upstart architect to begin
planning its design, with a start construction date in a year. The
original Colosseum’s architect was lost to history, so for all I
knew, Caligula’s chosen man may very well have been the actual
designer, recruited decades earlier.

Vincent would never learn.

So that was that.

Rome was under control and with its rightful ruler
popularly and sanely in place. The rest of the empire’s knowledge
of the incident was reduced to mere rumors spread by traveling
citizens. Santino and I had accepted Caligula’s offer to remain as
bodyguards for him, as did Helena, who would join us when she
recovered. It wasn’t so much a bodyguard position, but as agents he
could call on for “special” assignments.

It was the best posting I’d ever had because
Caligula hasn’t asked us to do anything yet, except for the
occasional appearance in the
Curia
, dressed in our full
military gear. The rules of the
pomerium
were restricted to
swords, spears, and shields, so our rifles fell through a loop hole
that allowed us to carry them.

Caligula was also sympathetic to my desires to care
for Helena, and knew three would be better than two on any
assignment he sent us on. With that in mind, he told Helena, on one
of his occasional visits, to take her time healing. Other bonuses
included our housing assignment, an income that easily put us in
the equestrian class, those wealthy Roman businessmen who weren’t
part of the patrician senatorial class, and invitations to numerous
dinner parties, most of which Caligula himself invited us to.

Which is where we were headed now, only this one
wasn’t hosted by Caligula, but by his sister.

Agrippina.

I hadn’t told anyone about what I saw that day
Santino and I were captured. About how she had possibly set us up,
and how she had been present at the moment we were captured. The
evidence was circumstantial, as Claudius could have been lying
about sending her as a messenger just to get a rise out of me, and
I still couldn’t be sure it had actually been her smooching him
after I had been hit over the head.

Besides. Who would I tell? Caligula wouldn’t believe
me. He seemed completely secure in the notion that Agrippina was a
sweet little angel, and now a mother to boot. If I told Helena, she
would have crawled out of bed, dragged herself to Agrippina’s home,
and ripped her throat out with her bare hands. While the latter
outcome was somewhat appealing, I couldn’t condemn someone on
circumstantial evidence alone.

So, arm in arm, the three of us slowly made our way
to the
Domus Augusti
, where Agrippina had taken up residence
with her brother. Passing through the familiar gate, and two
familiar Praetorians now back in their traditional white togas, we
made our way into the house of Augustus.

While, it was no longer the same house Augustus had
built after Bordeaux had destroyed much of it; Caligula kept its
original name, a tribute to his great grandfather. While the
exterior had been reconstructed beautifully by Claudius, Caligula
removed every piece of callous art he had adorned it with. The end
result was the same kind of austere, yet beautiful home it had
originally been. Met at the door by a house slave, something I’d
never get used to but could do little to change, we were escorted
through the house and into the dining room.

The room was devoid of any modern semblance of
formal dining accoutrements or ware. Instead of chairs, there were
low couches arranged in a U, with tables laid out in front of them.
Lying on couches while eating dinner was every lazy man’s dream,
and after experiencing it a few times, I never wanted to go back.
All the Romans needed was a television with some Monday Night
Football, and life would be complete.

We mingled with increasingly familiar people. I
chatted with Varus while Helena and Santino struck up a
conversation with an off duty Quintilius and his wife. We didn’t
have too much time for small talk as Caligula and Agrippina arrived
only a few minutes later. Once they were announced, we made our way
to the dining tables and got comfortable.

Agrippina seated herself at the head of the table
with Caligula and her young son, Nero. Santino, Helena, and I were
seated at their right, a place of honor, Varus and Quintilius
directly across from us to their left, with the rest of the guests
scattered throughout the couches. As soon as everyone was settled,
house slaves were called to bring forth various dishes of steaming
delectables.

The dinner had been delicious, and the evening fun.
Chicken, beef, vegetables of all kinds, grains, and fruits for
dessert, it was a feast fit for kings, and I wondered how these
Romans stayed in such good shape eating so much all the time. I
already felt my waistline beginning to tighten and I had to promise
Helena that I’d hit up the
Campus Martius
next week for a
workout.

With dinner completed, the evening slowed down to
alcohol induced conversation. I found myself pretty drunk, lounging
on my back, and munching on fruit Helena was playfully lowering
into my mouth. She told me to close my eyes while she found
something new to feed me, and as a result I felt a syrupy liquid
spill down my chin. I opened my eyes to see Helena pouring honey
from a cup. I laughed and knocked the cup away, gently pushing her
into Santino. He was talking to a young, pretty, Roman woman and
glared at me when Helena interrupted his conversation. I couldn’t
help but laugh again as I rolled onto my back and Helena moved to
lie next to me, her head on my stomach.

I stared up at the ceiling feeling drunk, glutinous
and happy for the first time in years. The world I had left had
been filled with nothing but war, one that had no end in sight.
Albert Einstein once said, “I know not what weapons World War III
will be fought with, but World War IV will be fought with sticks
and stones”. He was probably right, and I knew it was only a matter
of time before someone started the chain reaction that would end it
all. Ancient Rome, however, I knew had a future, and maybe with my
help, a better one. We’d done too much to the timeline as it was,
so there was no sense resting on our laurels now and not trying to
help.

A future aside, it was also the first time since I
was a kid I could honestly admit I had everything. With Helena at
my side, my best friend Santino at my back, and the emperor of Rome
as my employer, I couldn’t find much to complain about. I sighed,
laid back, and drank in the moment.

It wasn’t until I heard the innocent giggle of a
small child that I remembered life was never perfect. Out of the
corner of my eye I saw young Nero on the ground in a corner. I also
saw a dozen attendants playing with and spoiling him right in front
of me. It gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Friends and family,” Caligula suddenly announced,
struggling to sit up on his couch, arms spread at his sides to
maintain his balance. “I am so very glad you could join my sister
and I for dinner tonight, and a wonderful dinner it was, I might
add.”

Many of the guests offered their own positive
sentiments to Agrippina, as though she had anything to do with the
actual cooking of the meal.

“I, myself, am not quite finished,” Caligula
announced, slurring his words drunkenly, still munching on part of
his entrée, “but I have an announcement to make. A very important
one that will affect the continuation of my imperial reign.”

I glanced over at Santino and Helena, the latter’s
expression looking confused, while the former was still trying to
cop a feel. I gave her a shrug. I was beyond making predictions
based on historical precedence at this point.

“My lovely sister and I have been discussing events
at great length, and I have come to a decision. I hereby announce
that due to my lack of children, as of this afternoon and recorded
in my living will, Agrippina’s son, Nero, will succeed me as Caesar
in the circumstances of my death. Should that happen before he
reaches the age of fourteen, Agrippina shall rule in regency till
the day he is.”

There was a chorus of applause and adulation from
the guests present. As for me, my jaw practically hit the floor. I
couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After all we’d gone through
and all we’d changed, establishing Caligula as potentially one of
Rome’s greatest emperors, Nero would still take over and ruin
everything. I looked over at the young child, and even at six
months of age, I saw the beginnings of the man he would become, the
servants continuing to pamper and spoil the boy.

I looked over at my two companions, who were just as
confused as I was, but obviously not truly grasping the
implications. Even Varus, sitting across the table from my position
looked as confused as the three of us. If he didn’t know, this must
have been a recent decision.

I looked back at Caligula, heartened by his vitality
and youth, knowing it would be a long time before Nero could
actually become Caesar. Caligula was so much more popular and
protected than ever, it would take an act of the gods to bring him
down. I laid my head back down against a couch cushion and
continued to stare at the ceiling in comfort.

I felt myself falling asleep when I heard the
clatter of a plate beside me. I peeked through my right eye and saw
Caligula eating a small, dark brown mushroom from the plate that
must have fallen to the floor in his drunken stupor. I sniveled at
the sight as mushrooms were never my favorite. Something about
eating fungus bugged me. They always seemed to…

My train of thought stopped as a word association
sprang to mind. Something about Caligula and mushrooms should have
been important to me, but I was too drunk to remember. Claudius.
Mushrooms. Caligula. Agrippina.

Poison.

I tried to get up and warn him, but my mind and body
were too slow. I watched as he took a bite, glancing at it
curiously, but pleasingly, before his eyes tightened in confusion
and concern. He dropped the mushroom and his hands grasped at his
throat while a white, frothy substance foamed at his mouth. Most
dinner guests were still elated and discussing Caligula’s
announcement but when he fell to the floor and convulsed from a
seizure, every guest rushed to their feet, and ran to his side.

All except Agrippina.

She was still seated on her couch, looking down at
the emperor’s shaking form, but only for a moment before she turned
her head to look right at me. A slow smile crept across her face,
and I thought I saw her shaking slightly in laughter. I looked back
at Nero, and back at her, whose smile broadened just slightly
before she turned back to Caligula, now in horrified sister
mode.

“What’s happening to him?” Helena asked,
bewilderment in her voice.

“We have to go,” I said. “Now.”