Christopher Buckner - Swords of Rome

A week ago, Gaius was frightened by the prospect of returning to Rome. Now, he could hardly contain his excitement as he caught himself talking in every sight and sound, with the same enthusiasm he had when he was twelve.

Valerius, on the other hand, did not have any interest in the city, and in fact, he loath it. Gaius knew the old Roman well enough to know that he preferred the open country to the artificial stone and wooden structures and narrow streets of the city. He might defend Rome to his last breath, but walking through it was another matter.

Valerius kept his attention forward. A tight-ridged expression that Gaius had lovingly become used to over the years was present on his weathered face. It was painfully clear that he wanted to hurry and get to the Senate, and be done with his duty, and off to join the campaign. Gaius tried his best to follow his mentor’s example. He rode tall atop his horse and gripped the reins firmly; chin held high like an officer on display. Even the continuing annoyance of the dripping water from the brim of his helmet was ignored. Still, despite his best efforts, he found that his attention continued to drift from one sight to the next as it had done when he was younger.

The streets, even with the heavy rainfall, were filled with hundreds of people who shopped or ate at the numerous stands that lined the busy corners. There seemed to be a pub or brothel on every block, Gaius noted, and not a single one seemed short of business.

One brothel caught his gaze as he rode by. It was quite elegant, made from white stone and freshly painted red wood. Out front stood several beautiful women who chatted to each other, or enticed only the wealthiest of men to enter their establishment, with wooing comments of great pleasures and wondrous exploitations of the flesh they won’t soon forget.

The women wore silk dresses that were cut low around their breasts, and had slits that showed their long and shapely legs. They adorned themselves with a wide assortment of jewels in their ears and or around their necks. Many of the women wore bright-colored wigs of red, blonde, black or other assorted colors that weren’t natural to the female body. However, most engaging about them was their odor; their exotic perfume carried over the street, drawing any man to them like a Siren' call.

One woman caught Gaius’ eye, in particular. She was an extremely beautiful young lady with lengthy hair. Her skin was tanned and seemed softer than a bed of feathers as long lashes, heavy with dark mascara wrapped around her piercing eyes, giving her an exotic, foreign look.

She watched Gaius as he rode past her, never taking her eyes off the young officer.

He smiled at her with a boyish grin, which she returned pleasantly.

So focused on this woman, Gaius veered his horse into Valerius’ own animal as both horses neighed and nipped at each other. This quickly brought Gaius’ attention from his fantasy as he corrected his error.

Valerius looked oddly at him, not saying a word as Gaius quietly voiced his apologies.

Valerius grunted his reply, knowing all too well what had caught his young officer’s eye.

Looking backward over his shoulder Gaius saw the exotic woman giggling with the girls who stood with her, before she glanced over towards him, still with a big smile on her face.

He continued to watch her until his vision was obstructed by the dense crowds, disappointed. He suddenly realized that some things were indeed quite different than the last time he was in the city — things his eyes couldn’t have appreciated ten years ago, now served only to pique his curiosity as he wondered what other hidden gems Rome held tucked away.

Slowly, the narrow streets began to open as they rode into the great Forum of Rome, which house the Senate, the Temple of Jupiter and other assorted government and religious buildings.

The forum was filled with thousands of people. Dozens of shops had been set up where merchants sold items from across the Mediterranean: rugs from Persia, silk from Africa, Slaves from all corners of the known world, each auctioned in open markets as hundreds of buyers eagerly placed bets on the best bodies, strongest men, youngest boys or shapely women.

In the distance, Gaius could see a large wooden structure that housed an open theater. Currently, a play was being shown to the crowd of adults and children that laughed and jeered at the performance of a strange-looking man, who wore a multi-colored dress and white-painted face. He carried an over-sized shield and sword. His hair was colored gold and was curled. Top his head was an unpleasant helmet that was adorned with large white feathers. In his crotch, hung a huge fake penis that the actor frequently waved and pointed at the audience, drawing a chorus of cheers and laughter from them; its meaning completely lost on Gaius as he watched from afar.

Two bare-breasted women ran around the stage as a very short man, only as tall as a small boy, perused them with his hands held out, trying to grab them from behind.

The tiny man was dressed in the fashion of a Persian king; dark clothing with long black curled hair and a thick beard. He acted like a clown as he chased the two women, who screamed out until finally, the gold-locked man stepped between them, and smacked the short king over his head with the fake sword, and then poked him with his oversized penis as the little man fell.

The king dropped to his knees and began to plead for his life. The hero, however, stood over him and waved his prop over the defeated man’s head.

The crowd loved all of it even though not a word had been uttered on stage, but soon Gaius began to recognize some of the similarities in the play as the story of Alexander the Greats conquest of the Persian Empire.

He smiled even though he felt that the historic interpretation of the actors was terribly wrong.

“The people don’t seem to be too concerned about the prospect of war,” Gaius commented to Valerius as the two stepped down from their horses once they reached the Roman Senate.

“Bah. War is only an inconvenience to most of these people. Nothing that would actually affect their mood; and besides, most the dying will come from the allies any ways,"” Valerius snarled.

Gaius looked up at the Senate. The sizeable structure that hosed the power behind the Republic wasn’t entirely what he was expecting, as the Curia wasn’t grand or set high upon a hill like the Acropolis in Greece. It looked more like a large house, built in a simple fashion, set against some of the most important structures in Rome. It was painted red and purple and adorned with flowers. Banners of the Republic draped down the side of the building, while the two large heavy wooden doors that led into the Senate were currently wide open, indicating that session was in order and any citizen was technically invited to listen to the hearings, although, most did not bother or dared to set foot inside.

Still, Gaius did not let his imagination overshadow the importance of the building. He knew inside were the most powerful men in Rome — those that commanded the loyalty of the people and the army, governed the provinces, and ensured that Rome’s light shine the brightest in the world. And, while the Senate did not make or pass the laws, their collective voices helped shape the course of Rome’s future.

Gaius was so intrigued by the Senate building that he failed to notice what greeted him.

Along the base of the walls was a row of beggars, many of whose hands were stretched out as they pleaded for coins from the numerous citizens passing by.

The wretched souls looked as if they had just crawled out from their own graves, and took residence in front of the symbol of power. Their clothing was a mix of tattered rags and patch-work of other garments and as Gaius came closer to them, their smell was unbearable, which was made worse by the rain.