Christopher Buckner - Swords of Rome

Gaius closed his eyes as Calfax raised his sword up over his head and readied to plunge it down into his chest. In his mind, he saw his beloved, smelt her, felt her and held onto that image, as long as he could before he drew upon what little strength he had left. And then, as he opened his eyes once more, just for a moment, through the thickening of the dust fill smog, he saw the white wolf, standing, poised, looking at him for just a moment before it was gone in the rising heat.

Before Calfax’s final blow could come, Gaius suddenly rose to his feet, his right arm, which had dangled uselessly down by his side, shot forth and plunged the tip of his sword into Calfax’s chest.

Calfax’s eyes opened wide as he looked down at the ivory handle of Gaius’ sword sticking out of his chest, shocked and amazed by the sudden realization that Gaius had faked his apparent weakness, but had kept just enough strength in reserve and bought his time, knowing that he was desperately overpowered and outclassed by the seasoned gladiator.

And then, Calfax’s grip on his sword faltered as he looked up and stared into Gaius’ eyes, as he pushed his sword even deeper.

Gaius reached with his freed hand and grabbed the clay medallion that hung around Calfax’s neck, and with on good tug, he ripped it off from the gladiator’s neck.

“This does not belong to you,” Gaius said as he broke the leather strand that kept the medallion in position.

And then, with one forcefully tug, Gaius withdrew his sword.

The old gladiator’s eyes rolled back into his head as he slumped down onto his knees, still staring up at the young Roman, who had bested him, gazing with puzzlement, and then, fell face-first into the dusty sand that lay beneath his feet.

Gaius dropped to his knees, no longer able to stand as his wounds had finally gotten the better of him.

He looked around as he heard the sound of a distant horn blowing, and for a moment, he thought that it might have been a Punic rallying cry. However, then he heard it again and realized it was coming from his men — his Wolves had broken the Carthaginian lines and were now pouring through their ranks as those that still lived, turned and ran.

He would not see the end, but he knew what its outcome would be. Rome had won, and his men had succeeded as the backbone of Hannibal’s army had been broken, seemly at the same time that Calfax’s own heart stopped beating.

Gaius closed his eyes and allowed his world to slip away as his men all raced pasted him, onward towards Hannibal’s rear, which was already engaged with the main Roman front, but would not break as Rome had at Cannae.

Soon, the sounds of the battlefield left him. The world around him became quiet as he returned to a better place, a home he had not seen for many years now — a distant house, alone in the hills surrounding by lush green fields — a place he remembered from his childhood.

When his feet touched the road that led to the far-off estate, he saw her, Julia.

Oh, how he marveled her at beauty — how he craved the touch of her lips and longed to hear the soothing sounds of her voice. He had longed for her his entire life, an impossible dream that had come true. She was his soul, his reason for living each new day, and for her, he would always protect her from the monsters of the world, even at the cost of his own life.

Unlike in his dreams each night, this time, however, Gaius did not wake up. He did not hesitate to keep walking forward until she was in his loving embrace once again.

His war was over. Now his life could begin — a perfect dream made real. For her he would live and endure.