Edward Crichton - To Crown a Caesar

He paused again to take in a deep breath. “I have seen what you can do. Your ability to channel the sun’s power to create your own light. Your weapons. The manner of your clothing. Your night seeing devices. All of it is logical were I to only accept your story.” He looked me squarely before continuing. “I knew you were not from some far away land or mythical island, or even descendant from gods. This… makes sense. I know of Archimedes, and some of what you describe seems based on his principles. It would only be a matter of time.”

“You’re right, Galba,” I heard Helena speak up. “You Romans were the foundations from which our society grew. It’s something to be proud of, not mourned.”

“But what of this alternate… story? Where Claudius is a great emperor?” Galba wondered aloud. “The thought of it seems so foreign to me, the bastard that he was, but the way you say it, even though you lived through it, is as if you don’t even believe what you experienced yourself.”

“You have to look at it from our perspective,” I clarified. “I remember learning about Rome when I was just a teenager, and how Caligula had gone crazy, died a few years later and left Rome in Claudius’ very capable hands. Having seen it unfold differently is a foreign concept to me, exactly as you say. I still think I dreamt it up on occasion.”

Galba sat heavily in his chair, his eyes locked with some random object on his desk, lost in thought. I glanced over at Helena again, and while she looked concerned Galba might not go for it, she stayed supportively silent near the entrance to the tent. She pulled the flap to the tent open momentarily to peak outside and gave the camp a quick inspection before looking back at me, tapping her watch.

I looked back at Galba. “Sir, we need to hurry this up.”

He looked up quickly, startled. He took a breath. “I need time to think on this. Vespasian is young and inexperienced. I only just heard of him three years ago when he was an upstart tribune in a legion I cannot even remember. When he was given a legion and promoted to the rank of legate prior to the invasion of Britain, I was even more surprised. And now you stand before me, asking me to support him as the next emperor of Rome?”

I held both of my hands in the air, trying to remember that thirty kids would probably be more difficult.

“He is young, yes, and while he wouldn’t have been emperor for close to thirty years from now, we can already see the beginnings of what made him so great. Look at where you are,” I concluded, sweeping my arms out in an expansive gesture, taking in the camp.

“Indeed,” he muttered. “I won’t lie to you. A few hours ago, the only thing I felt towards young Vespasian was anger, resentment, and, yes, jealousy. This would have been my command if not for the audacity of Agrippina.”

That piqued Helena’s interest. “What do you mean, ‘the audacity of Agrippina’?”

Galba looked embarrassed. “She approached me. Romantically. I was flattered or course, but I am already married.” He paused. “My mother slapped her.”

I whistled through my teeth, interested because the exact same thing happened in the original timeline. Agrippina made an advance on Galba, he denied her, and his mother slapped her. It only added to the theory that specific events continued to play themselves out, even if the timeline is altered slightly.

That thought in mind, I never could imagine what the lovely Agrippina saw in a man like Galba.

“So, instead of giving you command, she gave it to Vespasian?” Helena asked him, still standing guard by the entrance.

“Yes,” Galba replied sourly. “Besides, he’s the ‘Hero of Britain.” If you believe the stories they say about him, he managed to subdue the entire island with a single legion in a week. I will admit he has surpassed everyone’s expectations, even mine, while all I’ve done for the past three years is stew in Iberia.”

“So, what about it?” I pressed. “I understand how you feel, but after everything we’ve told you, will you help us?”

“I need time to think,” Galba said. “Come back in a few days. By then, Agrippina and Nero should be here, and if I decide to help you, perhaps I’ll help you take him. Honestly, I understand what you say about him. I’ve seen him occasionally over the past few years, and he is nothing if not a spoiled brat.”

I smiled. “You see? I wasn’t…”

I was interrupted by the blaring of Roman horns off in the distance and the rumbling of tens of thousands of men waking from their night’s slumber. Helena peeked outside, but signaled she couldn’t see anything yet. My radio earpiece crackled to life.

“Uh, guys?” Santino’s distorted voice whispered. “You’ve got incoming.”

“What do you mean, ‘incoming’?” I replied immediately.

“I mean there’s a giant fucking boat sailing up the river.”

“What does it look like?” I asked.

There was a pause. “Jacob. It’s huge. What more do you want me to say? It’s half the size of the river, maybe a football field long, and has a few buildings on the deck.”

His description immediately reminded me of the Romans pleasure barges that were used as drifting palaces. I had watched something on TV about archaeologists discovering one in Lake Nemi in the 1920s. Prior to the find, society had no idea they even existed. When it was discovered, lost revelations about Roman technology and engineering were uncovered. With the discovery came the first evidence of an anchor being used on a ship, something thought invented much later. As were ball bearings, another something that wasn’t reinvented until the eighteenth or nineteenth century. The ship also had heated and cooled running water as well. The discovery had been an archaeological treasure trove.

Another was later found, but each had only been the size of about two tennis courts, not a football field if I recalled properly. But those boats were constructed under Caligula, inspired by his own designs. I wouldn’t put it past Agrippina to take similar designs and add to them, making her new ship a combination of the two and therefore far grander than those of her late brother. Still, I doubted it was the size of a football filed, but if this boat of Santino’s was one of these floating palaces, it could only mean Agrippina had arrived earlier than expected. I relayed my information to Galba.

“That must be Agrippina,” he confirmed. “I did not know she was arriving by her pleasure barge, but it doesn’t surprise me. It is a grand spectacle.”

“Why is she even here?” Helena asked, more anger than curiosity in her voice.

“Why else?” Galba replied nonchalantly. “She wants to be a part of the campaign.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked. “Who’s running Rome?”

“I’m sure she has plenty of Senators completely loyal to her that she has left in charge. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time the head of state was on campaign with the legions.”

I nodded as the sound of men rushing about grew louder outside, which meant our escape plan was blown. Galba seemed to understand.

“It seems you will have to stay here. We’ll be busy all day with Agrippina arriving early, as Vespasian had plans to assemble the entire army to welcome her, but I do not believe he will have the time now.” A small smile formed at the corner of his mouth at the small setback for Vespasian.

I nodded and moved over to his bed and sat on its edge. “Works for me.”

Galba shook his head. “You do not understand. I may send couriers to gather materials I may need for a meeting or have them place correspondence on my desk.”

“So where are we going to hide all day?” Helena asked with a glance around the tent.