Christopher Buckner - Swords of Rome

Julia tilted her head back and stared up at Gaius for a moment. She raised her hand and rubbed her palm against the rough fuzz on his cheek, admiring the man he had become. However, beyond the robust body, a few scars and more hair, his eyes were as she remembered — proud, calm, strong and loving. When she looked up at him, she was taken back ten years when she was but a child. Then, as now, she looked at Gaius and saw courage and strength. She had always felt safe with him, and while one might cast off her affections for him as a child’s crush on an older boy, she knew, like she knew at the moment that her feelings for him were very real.

Julia loved him, and that love had grown.

Gaius knew without her having to say it. He could see the passion in her smile, in her endless gaze as she stared at him, and in her touch. He wondered if this was what it was like when his father had first seen his mother. He prayed to the gods that they give him the chance to give to Julia the same love and affection that his father showed to his mother, now years past.

He knew, with her in his arms, he could do anything. However, he was a practical man. Julia was a dreamer; she always had been, while Gaius was stuck in the here and now. While he did not say it, when she looked at him like she was currently, when anything seemed possible, the truth of his reality caught up with him. It wasn’t enough for him to have her now — her body and her heart. He needed her like he needed to breath, and the thought that in a few months, another man would have her, nearly brought tears of rage to his eyes.

“What troubles you?” Julia asked, as she could see the sudden shift in his expression, as faint as it was.

She turned all the way around; the thin silk sheet falling off from her shoulders, revealing her naked body as she repositioned herself, now sitting in front of him as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Gaius lowered his hands and held Julia assertively by her waist, fixing her gaze into his.

“Do I not make you happy, my love?” she asked with a sweet smile as she ran her hand through his close-cropped hair.

“More than I have words for,” he answered, trying as hard as he could to hide his true thoughts. However, she was like an oracle, able to read his mind — knowing his darkest fears and lingering doubts.

“You are concerned about Paullus? It is he that takes your thoughts from my loving embrace, isn’t it?”

Gaius felt ashamed as he grabbed the sheet that lied on the grass, and tried to wrap it back around Julia. When he attempted, she pushed his efforts away.

“Gaius,” she began. “I love you, and nothing or no one will ever come between us. Say the words and I will leave Rome and my father behind, to be with you. We can run, go elsewhere; to the south, onto Sicily, or to the east, toward Greece, perhaps even beyond, deeper into the Hellistic world. You only have to utter the words.” Her words were spoken with honesty and without concern.

Gaius knew that if he should say the words, she would do as he wished without a second’s hesitation. Nevertheless, lingering doubts remained at the knowledge of taking her away, what it would mean for them when Varro hunted for them.

The prospect of fleeing across the Republic, traveling to shores beyond their wildest imagination, it was exciting, even Gaius had to admit to himself. However, he knew it was a foolish dream of two very young and naive individuals in love.

“Julia, the world doesn’t work that way. All because we desire it, that doesn’t mean we can just get up and leave everything behind. Your father and Paullus would track us to the ends of the earth. And I couldn’t betray Antony’s friendship either,” Gaius spoke with a painful heart, more so at the sudden sadness that crept through Julia’s eyes.

“My brother knows what you mean to me. I do not hide my secrets from him, Gaius.” She tried to fight his argument, but could see right away that there was no changing his mind.

“Even so — “Gaius turned his head, afraid to speak what he had been thinking. “It does not change the reality of our situation. I am a soldier of the Republic, Julia. Do you know what that means to me?”

She stared at him puzzled, but Gaius did not give her the chance to answer his question before he continued.

“I took an oath to defend Rome with my life; to serve the Senate, and to lead those men under my care. That is not something that I can turn my back on, not for anyone, not even for you.”

“Then do not turn against your oath,” Julia blurted out with frustration. She sat shivering in his arms, but not from the growing chill of the late evening, but in knowing what the result of their conversation would lead to.

“Julia, I can’t love a married woman either.” Gaius’ words were like ice picks through her chest. “I can’t hide in the shadows and wait to steal you away when opportunity presents. If we were found out, it would be the death of both of us, literally.”

Julia tried to speak again, to debunk what Gaius was saying, but he spoke sooner than she could.

“And even if we aren’t discovered, in time, you will bear Paullus children. What place would I have then in your life? Do you think I would be low enough to still seek you — to tear your family apart?”

“What are you saying, Gaius?” her words trailed off as tears formed in her eyes. She suddenly felt very exposed as she broke away from him and reached down, wrapping the sheet around her naked body.

“I don’t know. I know that I won’t betray my oath, and I can’t stop loving you, but — “he struggled for words, desperately trying to find the right sentence that might ease her mind. He felt like he was betraying his love for her that she might believe that he loved her for her body, there was no other need for her. He hoped she didn’t feel so. He could never use her and just throw her away. Nevertheless, he was pulled between his honor and his passion for her.

“I’m just…” he never got to finish his sentence when their attention was turned east, down the river and toward the bridge that led back to the city.

There was a strange, distant noise which he recognized as the rhythmic marching of soldiers, followed by the trumpets of Scipio’s legion as they returned from the north.

“The legion is back!” Gaius said enthusiastically as he stood to his feet.

“This early?” Julia asked as she too stood to her feet, wrapping herself in the sheet as she stood next to Gaius.

“Something is wrong,” he noted as the trumpet calls weren’t that of a victorious army, but a warning to any along the road to move aside and allow the legion to pass unimpaired. Even this far Gaius could hear that the marching was sporadic and ragged, not the orderly movement of a legion.

“I have to see what is going on,” he said as he bent down and grabbed his clothes. Julia quickly did the same before the two headed back towards Rome.

It did not take them long to reach the stone bridge that crossed over a narrow patch of the river, which led to the northern gate of the city. For the moment, the troubled conversation that he and Julia shared escaped their thoughts as both hurried along the river’s path. And then when the two saw the legion, both paused with horrid looks as they witnessed the sorry state of the army.

The soldiers who had been sent north to confront Hannibal were broken. Most of the men, marching in a loose formation, were dirtied, tired and bloodied, with blood-soaked bandages over their limbs and heads. Those that still carried weapons were slumped oddly over their shoulders or dragged along the stone-paved road without care, while their armor was a mixture of chain-mail, leather and tunic, all covered with week’s worth of mud and spackled with dried blood. Even the horses the officers rode seemed short of breath as many of them had deep gashes across their powerful bodies. The wounds had been hastily filled with mud so that the animals didn’t bleed to death, but a number still bled from their noses, indicating that their serious injuries were indeed taken its toll.