Christopher Buckner - Swords of Rome

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 Hannibal wishes, let him cross the Alps. The legion under Scipio’s authority will crush him, and his horde like we would a slave rebellion. It will serve as a reminder to all those who dare stand before Rome’s destiny,” Paullus commented as he finished a cup of wine.

“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 Hannibal and his rabble. Those spoils are for older men, well past their prime, men such as Scipio,” Paullus snorted.

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

“A few thousand Gauls, nothing more — No lesser beings on the face of the earth,” Varro quickly commented to weaken his son’s hasty statement.

“Do remember your history, father. It was those blue-skinned dirt worshipers that sacked Rome,” Antony quickly shot back.

Varro looked across his table as a number of mummers from his guests filled his ears.

“That was a long time ago, when Rome and the Republic was weaker. I would not show any faith in Hannibal’s ability to maintain his alliance with the Gallic tribes for a prolonged period of time. They are as likely to rip his throat out as they are ours.” Varro tried to salvage the debate and ease his guests’ mind, but still it was easy to note that many at his table were becoming uneasy about the topic as the wine and food had stopped.

“And are we Romans are so superior that we, in such a short time are faced with another invasion?” Fabius added.

“Oh, come now!” Varro blurted out as he finally lost his sense. “You cannot honestly believe what you are saying.” Varro slammed his fist against the surface of his table, which drew everyone’s attention to him. “No army of Carthage or barbarians can topple this government or its legion, regardless what some may say at my table. Rome is strong, and this emboldened — delusional Hannibal will soon be nothing more than a footnote in our history when we are done with him!” Varro asserted.

There was silence for a moment as Varro looked around the table. He could plainly see that it was starting to weight on his guest whom the night might be lost.

Gaius noticed that Varro had a desperate glare in his eyes. He needed to find someone that would agree with him, beyond those he already had in his pocket. It was then, to Gaius’ concern that Varro settled his eyes on him.

“And what about you, Gaius, what does our younger generation think?” Varro directed his gaze down to his son, “that has proper training and experience in matters of warfare has to say about these matters that face our great Republic?”

Gaius swallowed hard as he suddenly wished he had a shell in which he could hide in, as everyone’s attention was turned towards him, as if he had the wisdom to ease their troubled minds and instill confidence in Rome’s abilities to handle the current crisis.

Taking a deep breath, Gaius wasn’t sure what he could say. Truthfully, beyond the simple facts that every common citizen knew, he understood little about Hannibal and his bloodlust against Rome. He hardly had enough time to think of the matter, not with so many other concerns that kept his troubled thoughts preoccupied.

Gaius decided it was best he played it safe.

“Well, Senator, the luxury of being a soldier is, you don’t have to have any political views. I merely fight who I’m told without question as to why.”

Varro was silent for an awkward moment before he burst into laughter, which was soon copied by a number of his guests.

“Well, lad, with men such you, Rome is certainly safe.”

Gaius forced a shrewd smile as he took a sip of his drink. He knew that was what Varro expected him to say, to follow his superiors’ authority without question, and blindly walk through the gates of Hades if instructed.

It was then that Gaius looked into Julia’s eyes as she stared at him with disappointment, and suddenly he felt ashamed. He had lied, and she knew it, somehow. He had his individual mind and his private opinions, but he allowed the pressure of those he perceived to be superior to him clouds his thoughts, and Julia saw threw him.

Gaius coughed, which drew Varro and his guest's attention back towards him.

“However, Senator, if I may continue,” Gaius interjected. “Those are the thoughts of what is expected of a simple soldier. N I am a centurion in Rome’s legions, and a citizen of this Republic. I know the truth isn’t as uncomplicated as we all wish to make it seem. A soldier works in facts, and the modest fact is Hannibal has armed a combined force that numbers well over anything Rome has faced in two generations. We are the sons of the veterans who knew this enemy. We have heard their stories and because of that, I know one thing above all: no matter what you wish to call them, so that your words can give you comfort, they are not weak, nor should we ever underestimate them. Carthage has a culture as old as ours, and like us, they will not allow a foreign power to dictate how they grow and expand. If we are to mend the damage between our two nations, then those that lead need to make more effort to reach a compromise that doesn’t risk the lives of more Roman men. Alternatively, I fear we will face the dire consequences of our failure to be responsible to those citizens who place their trust in us.”

Varro laughed, attempting to break the tension in the room as the whole table went silent.

Gaius noticed Fabius’ sneer at Varro hasty comment.

“To my understanding,” Gaius began before anyone could speak first. “The Senate demanded that Carthage bend to our will and do something about Hannibal, regardless of the fact that they had no control over him. Perhaps it is us that should have bowed to reason and found a solution for both our nations, so that we might have resolved this crisis before it has gotten this far.”

Gaius looked around the table, gazing in each of the guests’ eyes as he continued. He could see their doubts as if they were shrouds covering their heads.

“We are alone in the world, with fewer friends than enemies, whether or not you want to see that. If this city is to survive, then it is in you, Senator, that we must find the means, to either grow stronger by building a lasting union with those we think lesser, or we will perish from this earth, as a people and nation — never to have been remembered unless told by those that have enslaved us.”

“And what should we do about men like Hannibal?” Paullus asked. To even Gaius’ surprise the man seemed keenly interested in what he had to say, in contrast to Varro’ who face had turned bright red.

“Do not misread my words, gentlemen. I am a patriot first. I love Rome, and the Republic that we have built more than my own life, and I would gladly lay it down to keep Rome and those I love safe,” Gaius directed the final part of his sentence towards Julia, who smiled as she hung on his every word. “Hannibal must be stopped, that I agree with completely. I only asked that we think about if we've given this man reason to hate us?”