Swords of Rome

Gaius’ spirits lifted in that instant as Julia’s stare lingered again, as the two caught one another in each other’s eyes when the opportunity presented itself.

She has not forgotten me;Gaius thought to himself, joyful by his own words. He longed to be by her now, to share in her words, yet, after ten years he was so close, but still distance separated them, as did the proper edict.

He would wait, he decided. He had this long already.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The wine flowed freely, as did the discourse as Varro and two dozen of his guests sat around a long marble table, which at the moment is being covered with the fifth course, which comprised of an assortment of pastries, rich and sweet breads, and a dozen varieties of fruits and nuts, served with an endless flow of hot, cold or honey wine.

Slaves moved in between the guests, refilling silver goblets. Plates were removed when they were emptied, before being filled once more as everyone ate until they were full. A number of the guests, to Gaius’ dismay, vomited into copper buckets that were set next to them; an acceptable act, done, so they could expel their meal and subsequently quickly refill their bellies with more delights as if this was the last meal they were ever going to eat again.

The main course had consisted of assorted soups, spices and wild game such as duck, boar, quail and fish, all mixed with vegetables, breads and sweets that Gaius had never seen, much less tasted. It had been the best meal of his life, and unlike the guests, he wasn’t about to expel the contents of his stomach until nature took its course. Consequently, he wasn’t able to try everything that covered the table.

Varro sat at the head, as the guests were seated by their importance along each side. It had been the senator who carried most of the conversations, as Varro had an unlimited roll of topics which to bring up at any moment. These interests drifted across many subjects, from catching up on personal and family business, to politics of the Senate, and what internal and foreign troubles were plaguing the Republic. More recent, talk shifted to the rogue Carthaginian general, Ha

Ha

Most vocal had been Fabius Maximus, who despite the growing, a

Fabius was a military man, raised to lead men into battle. He clearly wanted to be north with Scipio’s legion as it moved to intercept Ha

Gaius found it uncomfortable to watch Fabius squirm in his seat as if some insect had been chewing away at his backside since di

As Gaius listened to the ongoing conversations, it seemed to him that Varro was positioning himself to take control of the Senate. If that was a good or bad thing, he did not know. However, it seemed that everyone around the table, and many more businessmen and senators unseen stood to gain a great deal with Varro’ rise to power.

“How can any of you sit here today eating my uncle’s food and act like the world isn’t going mad?” Fabius interjected, bringing the previous topic of conversation to a halt as he blurted his statement out with a slight slur in his voice.

“There is no need for theatrics, Fabius,” Varro spoke up.

“I’m afraid there is, uncle. When will each of you wake up and see what is staring us in the face? We act as if nothing can touch our city, yet, we believe that our enemies will bend to our every demand. And now, when one man stands to challenge Rome with an army of northern barbarians, you simulate a fiction that we aren’t in danger,” Fabius added as he stood angrily to his feet.

“Sit down, nephew. Was it not I who called upon the Senate to take action first?” Varro defended as his tone rose with a

“You might have been, but why is the Senate turning against Carthage, demanding, not requesting, that they deal with Ha

“We ca

“It is easy for you to see them as lesser, isn’t it? Then tell me, dear uncle, how will you explain you position to the crying widows and mother of our dead legio

“Because they are lesser than us, dear Fabius,” a new voice added to the argument.

Gaius directed his attention towards the man who sat next to Julia; closer than he would have liked. He recalled his brief introduction with him earlier in the evening as a man by the name of Paullus.

The name was not unfamiliar with introduction. He was a powerful figure, more so than even Varro, wealthy, respectable and hailing from an influential family that had served the Rome for generations. Most notably Paullus had spent much of his time in Greece with his four legions, putting down one rebellion after another. These acts made him a celebrated man. However, it was not these details that concerned Gaius, more so the frequent stares and gestures, and hidden whispers he made to Julia that had kept Gaius on the edge all night.

Julia played her role, laughing and smiling at him with affection when called for. Right now, it was how Paullus had gently rested his hand down on hers’ with an uneasy familiarity that went beyond simple friendship.

“If Ha

“If you are that confident in our legions, why are your men staying in Greece?” Fabius asked.

“Please, my good friend. There is no glory in crushing Ha

“I would hardly call fifty thousand men a rabble,” Antony commented, which brought a sharp gaze from his father.