Swords of Rome

“Surrender!” Fabius bolted to his feet. “You read Valerius’ letter. He is coming even as we speak.”

“And who will arrive sooner do you think, Valerius and his fifteen hundred, or Ha

“I will not surrender or give this city to Ha

“A fight! We have been fighting, Fabius, and we have lost — we’ve been slaughtered time and time again.”

Nero reached over and placed his hands onto Fabius’ shoulder, speaking to him with a quieter voice.

“We’ve done all that we could. The city will fall, but we can still save the Republic if we exile ourselves to our furthest colonies; to Greece, with the rest of our legions. In time, we can force terms, and return, and retake the city. However, not if we all die, staying here, trying to defend…what — stone walls and temples?”

“And what of the people, Nero? What of those that you and I are charged with protecting? And what of the men who have already died? You want me to abandon their memories to save our skin? No!” Fabius pulled away from Nero and shoved his finger in the older senator’s face.

“If Ha

Fabius said nothing else as he walked away from Nero, already pulling off his senatorial robes as he exited the hall.

Outside, as Fabius departed, Nero could already hear the rising panic as news about the defeat at Ca

He didn’t stay any longer as he rushed out of the Senate house, and towards his estate. He had packing to do. He just hoped he made it out of the city before the mob tore it down first.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Three hundred men out of nearly ninety thousand still alive, after having survived the worst military defeat in the Republic's history, Gaius could barely comprehend that fact, and would never have believed that such a disastrous blunder could have happened if he had not seen it with his own eyes.

Gaius spent two full days at Ca

After the battle at Lake Trasimene, the city had erupted. Hundreds were killed in rioting, thousands more wounded, and a quarter of the city burnt to the ground. What would the people do now, knowing that the most powerful army the Republic had ever gathered had been crushed? Who could they turn to? Certainly not the fractured Senate, which left over a hundred of its members on the battlefield, lifeless, their hands and fingers stacked like winter logs. Even the two consuls, gone, and presumed dead, or at the very least, captured. What was left of the government would probably be divided, ready to surrender in hope of saving themselves.

He wasn’t sure what to think or what to do. He dug through hundreds of bodies looking for Antony, or at the very least, Antony’s father, Varro. However, he found nothing. As far as he knew, he could have stepped on them a dozen times over, for the bodies looked the same after days left to rot under the hot summer sun; bloated, bruised, bloodied, and torn to pieces from weapons, animals, or by the fact that thousands of men had walked over the corpses.

There were witnesses to the battle; scholars, writers and civilians hoping to see something memorable. They had told that, in the first hours, everything seemed to be going Rome’s way. Ha

No one thought it possible. The army was raised to force Ha

As the Roman front advanced, Ha

Ha

Gaius recognized it. It was a mirror image of the Battle of Marathon, hundreds of years before, when the Athenians defeated a larger Persian army. Ha

Gaius couldn’t imagine being in the battle. He wasn’t even sure if he could have survived it. Because of this, he was confused. Antony, as angry as Gaius had been with him for sending him away, had saved his life. Antony did not rob him of a brilliant victory, and most certainly, not a glorious death. It was a slaughter, and as far as he knew, Antony had paid the price for his father’s arrogance.

Ha

They broke camp and quickly began to march back to Rome, hopefully getting there before Ha