《LOVE AND HONOR: The Mad Emperor (BL)》 PROLOGUE - The End of Tyranny The date is January 24, 41 AD. "Traitors! Die!" *CLANG* *CLANG* *THUD* A man falls. "Aaaaaaaahhhhhhgggg!!!!!!" *CLASH* *SCREECH* *CLANK* *THUD* Another man falls. "You''ll pay for your treachery!!" A guard screamed at their attackers. *ZZING* *THUD* *THUD* *THUD* Three men fell. "You''re the one''s that brought us suffering!" the attackers countered. *CLANG* *THUD* *CLASH* *THUD* And two of the six remaining men fell. Leaving four people. A mixture of blood and old mold is can be smelled in the air. Metallic and musty. It is suffocating. "Haaaaah haaaah ugggggghh!" *Splorch* *Squelch* *Swish* *Swish* The emperor stumbled backward, his eyes full of anger. He is shaking. Unable to control his body. The elite guards that are supposed to guard him have now tied their Emperor up! ''This is blasphemy!'' Blood is can be seen oozing from his expensive robes, inflicted by the traitorous blade that cuts his flesh. ''How dare they do this to their God!'' *Swish* *Splat* A guard holds him and made him drop down, kneeling on the bloody ground. He is seething from getting treated like this. ''The humiliation!'' The tunnel''s darkness beneath the palatium seemed to have come alive with the glint of steel, as more and more figures emerged from the shadows. *Squelch* *Squelch* The emperor thrashed about, trying to break free from his bonds. He looked around for someone or anything to untie him. But all he can see are his four fallen guards. ''Useless! And the others are traitors!'' He looked up and stared at the faces of the other three backstabbing guards standing beside him. Holding him in place. His blood boils even more. "Struggling is of no use.." the head of his guards quietly said, breaking the silence. "Untie me this instant! Obey me!" the emperor said in his commanding voice. "Why would i?" the guard ask, his eyes is empty. "I AM YOUR EMPEROR!" he roared. "Down here, you are nothing..." and as if the guard timed it, a loud cheers boomed and a thudding sounds of what seems like a hundred or more peoples'' step is can be heard echoing through the whole tunnel. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "Listen to the people above.. they are celebrating your downfall" "I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL YOU!!!" the emperor screamed. "Thirty stabs for the Tyrant!" the first assailant that emerged from the shadows stopped the emperor''s rage and stabbed him. "Aaaaggggggghhhhh!" A searing pain shot through the emperor''s whole being, as if a hot iron had been thrust to his flesh. It''s a bit different from the cut wounds that he received earlier. He looked down in time to see a sword struck at his side. "Aaaaaaggghhhh!!" "You forced our children to prostitute themselves in the palace!" the second assailant spat, stabbing the emperor in the shoulder. "Raaaaghhhhhhh *blegh* *bleghhhhh*" warm blood forces its way out of his mouth. "You slaughtered our families, our friends, you demon!" the third attacker shouted, plunging a dagger into his back. The litany of accusations continued, each attacker striking their emperor with a blade. Each wound is the evidence to his cruelty and excess. As the last attacker closed in, the emperor''s vision began to blur. He tried to look around the faces of his attackers, their eyes blazing with hatred and vengeance. Another one struck him in the back. It''s the head of his guards. "This one is for my wife". Then he shoved the emperor down the ground. *Splat* ''Ugggghhhh.'' *Squelch* *Squelch* He tried to crawl, but a walking feet clad in leather sandals stopped in front of him, a few inches from his head. Effectively stopping him from crawling forward. He craned his neck weakly, looking up, trying to make out the face of the owner of the feet. Green expressive eyes met his eyes. It was Lepidus. ''You!'' Then everything went dark. ***************************** *Ta-ta-ta-Taaa* A trumpet blared loudly. The vibrations of the trumpets'' sound waves resonated through the air. The people, busy celebrating the Ludi Palatini, stopped and wondered why. A low sound of murmurs spread through the crowd. The trumpets had already been heard once when the celebration began on the first day, after the emperor''s speech. But why were they being used again? On the last day of Ludi Palatini at that? Another celebration? What was the occasion? The people wondered. Then people came running from the palatium, "Go to the palatium! They are announcing something hurry!" They called out to the masses. The people, curious about the announcement, decided to go. Once they gathered, instead of the emperor or a high-ranking magistrate, a herald stood before them. Unrest spread among the people, afraid it was one of the emperor''s whims again. When the large crowd had gathered, the herald stood straight and, in a loud voice, said: "We are celebrating the end of the tyranny of the MAD EMPEROR!" You could have heard a pin drop as silence ensued. The herald looked around at the faces of the people. "As of right now, the mad emperor Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus has already died." A long pause, then one person broke into cheers, and like a wave, the entire crowd erupted into cheers. The news spread rapidly throughout the city, with people gathering in the streets, forums, and public spaces. "Hurrrrahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!" What a joyful news that is! ***************************** The news of the emperor''s death spread like wildfire, igniting a frenzy of jubilation and destruction. Mobs of people surged through the streets, targeting the numerous statues and effigies of the fallen emperor. In the Roman forum, a massive marble statue of the emperor stood tall, until a group of enraged citizens, armed with hammers and chisels, attacked it. The sound of cracking stones echoed through the forum as the statue''s arms shattered, its face splintered. *Thunk* *Thunk* Nearby, a bronze effigy of him stood atop a pedestal. A bonfire was lit beneath it, and the flames engulfed the metal, melting its features into a twisted, grotesque appearance. Throughout the city, similar scenes are happening. Statues were toppled, effigies smashed, and images of the emperor defaced. The once revered symbols of his power now lay broken, a proof of the people''s rejection of his tyranny. As night fell, Rome''s streets were glowing with fires, illuminating the destruction. The air resonated with cheers, shouts, and the clanging of hammers, as the city purged itself of the emperor''s presence. *Clack* *Clack* *Clack* The sound of creaking wood and scraping wheels mixed in on the air. *Clack* *Clack* *Clank* An ox pulling a plaustrum, a wooden cart, is making its way out of the city. The driver halted the ox and gazed back at the riotous scene unfolding behind him. His face is illuminated by an orange glow coming from the fire that is lit. It was Lepidus. Then his eyes dropped down to the plaustrum. There is a thick large cloth covered in a shape that unmistakably resembles a body, breathing slowly and quietly under it, hidden from the world. The driver''s expression remained inscrutable, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of concern. Then he continued driving the plaustrum, a little bit more quickly now. *Clack* *Clack* *Clack* ***************************** INDEX: PALATIUM- emperor''s palace LUDI PALATINI- ancient roman festival games held in honor for the gods or goddesses ROMAN FORUM- public places/market place/parks PLAUSTRUM - a wooden cart for transportation used Battle at Weser River The year is 16 AD. Around November or December. *TA-RAN-TAAAAA* A loud sound of a horn suddenly broke the silence of the flat land surrounded by slopes. Where the Germania tribe is camping. It is early morning. Some warriors from Germania tribe were still asleep, having stayed awake late into the night drinking and disparaging the Romans. But as soon as the sound of the horn is heard nearby, every warriors scrambled to stand up. The air is crisp, with a hint of dew and smoke from last night''s campfires. *Clang* *Clang* The sound of clanging metal and murmured curses fills the air as they hastily prepare for combat. The horn is a symbol sound of Roman legions. And it came from... the Weser River? ''Dammit they are near.'' They''ve set up a camp near the river. How could they ever know that the enemy will come from there? They were confident in their ability to repel the Romans if they attacked from the slopes, which is why they had let their guard down. They have formidable archers. Their skilled archers would cut down the Romans long before they could get close. "Half of them will fall before they could even reach us," they bragged. But clever Germanicus sailed up the Weser River. *Thud* *Thud* *Thud* Suddenly, a loud sound of what seems like a beating of a drum can be heard from behind the slopes. It is a thunderous marching steps. The ground vibrates beneath their feet as the Roman legions approach. ''It''s their tactic to intimidate the enemy!'' Creating an illusion of a million men stomping down the ground. Now their attention has split in two. The sound of horn that came from the river, and the marching thuds that?''s coming from behind the slopes. Then the marching steps halted. The whole camp has gone quiet as a mouse. Like what they heard was just a lie. But they knew they were surrounded. Their breaths halted, as if a prisoner that is waiting for a verdict to come. They can feel the heat of the sun in their skin. But they felt cold. They know they must act quickly to counter the Roman legions'' clever tactics. But because it is a calculated attack, they are left confuse on what to do. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Now they''re in a dillemma. They can only defend one side at a time, if they defend one, they all would be leaving the other side and that would be suicide. If they decided to break their troops in two, each forces would lack strength. It''ll be an impeccable defeat. Suddenly, "Roma!!" a lone shout is heard coming from the Weser River. A signal. "Victoria!" and a different battle cry answered on the other side of the slope. The tranquil plains, surrounded by gentle slopes, with dense forest and the serene Weser River nearby, were suddenly shattered by ear splitting chaos. Thousands of soldiers emerged from the slope. Hundreds of warhorses stomping on the ground. And one man stands as he oversees it. It is Germanicus. A Roman general. the former emperor''s adoptive grandson, the current emperor''s adoptive nephew. A prince. And next in line on the throne. The two sides attacked simultaneously. Pandemonium erupted, a cacophony of clashing steel, screams of the wounded, and the thunderous hooves of war horses. ''It was pure hell.'' The battle had just barely begun, yet the plains near the Weser River were already scarred by the fury of battle, echoing with the deafening clash of steel on steel. But despite their bravery, they were vastly outnumbered by Germanicus''s legions. plus the fact that their position has become their own disadvantage. The Roman Legions, led by Germanicus, had the upper hand. Many men had already fallen in the ground, battle cries can be heard everywhere. The fallen men on the ground got stomped on, crushed by horses and pile after pile of dying bodies. The ground is a river of blood. The air has gone bad. It smelled of death. ''A dog''s death.'' As Arminius watched his warriors fall down to their death, the chieftein tried to make a last stand. He gathered ?h?is warriors- infantries and archers as fast as he could, then he formed a large dome circle. The archers are inside the inner circle, in a formation, nock and ready to release their arrows. While infantries on the outer circle, some are standing, some are kneeling with their shields. Protecting themselves and the archers from the enemy''s ruthless sword. If a sword penetrates the shield, and the man holding it dies, it was quickly replaced. Arminius are inside of that dome circle. His warriors suddenly gained courage. Just one person and the Germania tribe who have lost their hope had regained their battle spirit. Their faces set with determination. Then a barritus started, it began as a low murmurs and slowly turned into a loud one. Boosting the morale of the warriors. It was a solemn battle cry. "Open!" The infantries slightly dropped their shield revealing the archers inside, ready to fire. "Fire!" They fired. *Swoosh* *Swoosh* The unlucky Roman legions that was attacking the dome, widened their eyes unable to react. A bullseye. Like a domino, many soldiers fell down the ground. "Defend!" The shield closed again. "Open!" But as soon as the command is said, a bunch of cavalry are already halfway there, stomping their horses and slashing their swords through the dome. The dome crumbled in an instant. Arminius who was inside the dome circle got cut. His last attempt failed. Still he stood his ground, but his uncle seized him, pulling him onto the horse. Taking Arminius away. "We have to retreat! Or we''re done for!" "No!" "We have to minimize our losses. We have to retreat!" "I''d rather die!!!" "We have to regroup! Fight for another day! Order the retreat!" "NOW!" Arminius bit his lip, steeled himself. He looked around and saw his warriors falling one by one. "Why must we be slaughtered like this?" he cried. "Retreat! Retreat! Let''s Retreat!" With a heavy heart, the remaining warriors turned and fled, joining the chaotic retreat of their tribe. The Roman legions, relentless in their pursuit, cut down any who stood in their way. As the battle drew to a close, the Germania tribe suffered heavy losses. Their warriors lay scattered across the battlefield, while others drowned in the Weser River or fled into the nearby forests. The Roman legions, in pursuit of the Germania tribe took archers with them. They did not leave any stone unturned in the forest or in the water. They are ruthless. The Roman legions, victorious but weary, stood triumphant on the blood-soaked plains. Germanicus, surveying the carnage, knew that this victory came at a great cost. The Germania tribe would not soon forget this defeat... ******************************* INDEX: Germania tribe - Ancient Germanic people Roman Legions - Roman empire''s army Barritus - ancient germanic battle cry Weser River - major river in northern Germany Little Boots Vetera Castrum, a major Roman military camp near Rhine river.. Gaius Germanicus from birth. Became Gaius Julius Caesar Germanicus later on, the two added names came from his father''s adoption. And in the future, another name will be added when he rises from the throne. But that story is for another day.. ''Caligula'' to his family and to those who know him. It means ''little boots''. A nickname that stuck. His mother, Agrippina, was a determined and devoted person. Willing to sacrifice and endure a long and arduous journey to Germania just to reunite with her husband and support him in his military endeavors. She''s a very proud woman and a proud wife. Being the wife of Germanicus Julius Caesar and stepgranddaughter of the former emperor made her so. She has an impressive family background. So when Caligula''s birthday arrived, his mother, even though she had just given birth to his younger sister just many months ago, she gets up and left their domus and took him with her. A request from Germanicus himself before he left for his campaign while she''s pregnant with Julia, the youngest. Once they''ve arrived at Vetera castrum, it''s already autumn. He remembered that it was chilly. And he is wearing a miniature soldier''s outfit devised by his mother to please the troops. To boost the morale in the castrum, and create a sense of camaraderie. His father, Germanicus, in a jovial mood, drunkenly boasted that Caligula was just like him at that age. And then he asked Agrippina to have Caligula sing in the camp fire. Agrippina urged him on. And the young boy, who is already showing a promising future because of being bright, despite his age, stands in front of the camp fire. Scanned the faces of the soldiers, like he was already old, took a deep breath and started to sing.. "As long as you''re alive.... If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. shine... dont be sad at all.. life is short time asks for its due..." The voice that they heard was so angelic. A voice of a child singing Seikilos Epitaph. The soldiers erupted into applause, cheering and whistling. They then dubbed him "Caligula" ¨C or little boots ¨C in admiration of his performance while wearing miniature military boots, just like his father''s. The nickname stuck, symbolizing the soldiers'' drunken affection for the young Caligula and their recognition of his resemblance to his illustrious father, Germanicus. After a month, Agrippina, his mother, left him in the camp and went home. As his spouse is already preparing for his raid on the Weser river. The young Caligula is left alone, save only with one or two soldiers babysitting him. **************************** His own little misadventures in the camp only earned him more affection from the soldiers. And he saw how his father was perceived by the people. Widely popular for having a virtuous character, with a dashing physique and his talent in military strategic. A perfect Roman. Caligula is happy and proud. In his young heart, he wanted to grow up just like his father. His blond hair is almost gold, and his little boots can be seen around the whole castrum in the day, while at night he is with his father telling him stories after stories of his battle. And teaching the young Caligula about the military. He absorbed it all, eager to please and eager to learn. In that way, his father is hoping to instill in him discipline, courage and leadership skills and, at the same time, spend time with his young son. As his raid got nearer, the time Germanicus spent with Caligula had lessened. And before he left the castrum, he told Caligula to practice with a sword. And when he returns, he''ll ask Caligula to show it to him. It''s been twenty-one days since then. Caligula has started to get bored, his enthusiasm for the sword has started to wane, but he still dutifully swings the wooden sword every day, eager to impress his father upon his return. Albeit sometimes he is using it to conduct imaginary battles with the camp''s chicken. *Ta-ta-taaa* A horn blared, making Caligula jump at his feet after the chickens flee. "They''ve returned!" "Victoria!" "Germanicus!!" "Viva Roma!" *Thud* *Thud* *Thud* Caligula with his little boots, sprang into action, ''Father has returned!'' In his little head, he can imagine his father''s joyful and thunderous laugh, pleased with him when he sees him. He joined in on the noisy crowd. A mixture of sweat and smoke assaulted Caligula''s nose once he got to the entrance of the camp. It was a very long procession. But the young Caligula, very excited to see his father, waited patiently. He weaves himself in the crowd, being small is such an advantage! He then positioned himself in front of the crowd, watching the long line of people coming into the castrum. But his excitement started to fade when he saw the wounded soldiers - some were limping, some lost their eyes, their limbs. Then a group of heavy wooden carts comes in, with a big white cloth covering whatever it is, with colors of red, redder than tomato when squashed and mud. Some people have started to cry and Caligula doesn''t even know why. As a wooden cart passed him by, the wheel got stuck in a protruding stone. Halting the cart. Some soldiers then help the cart to move, as it is hindering the other carts'' movement. With a strong push, suddenly, an arm got thrown out on the ground from the cart, scaring Caligula. It''s a severed arm, with a lots of blood in it. He wailed, thinking that it''s his father''s. Suddenly, he felt himself fly off the ground. He struggled, but the grip was too strong. He cant see with his eyes, as it''s full of tears. Then he heard a lonely voice that said, "filius meus iuvenis..." It was his father. Then he cried harder. **************************** INDEX: Rhine river - one of the major rivers in Europe Caligula - little boots domus - family residence castrum - military camp Seikilos Epitaph - ancient greek song, also known by romans filius meus iuvenis - my young son Spring has come, with Hidden Intentions 17 AD around May, Ravenna port, land and naval military base. The travel from Vetara castrum to Ravenna city was a grueling and intricate one. Germanicus had to navigate through treacherous terrain. Avoiding hostile Germanic tribes and skirmishes along the way. The journey involved multiple stages and different modes of transportations. A combination of river boats and land travel, with careful detours to evade danger zones. Germanicus commanded three Roman legions, each comprising approximately five thousand to six thousand soldiers. Including foot soldiers, archers, cavalrymen, auxiliaries, siege engineers, and marines. As well as around 3,600 non-combatant servants, merchants, and other civilians who supported the legions. Totaling fifteen to sixteen thousand men. The sheer scale of his force made it hard to imagine how to handle such a large number of people moving from place to place. And yet, Germanicus managed. His exceptional tactical acumen and inspiring presence, managed to weld this vast force into a cohesive, disciplined, and highly effective fighting machine. Considering the distance, rugged topography, unpredictable weather and the complex logistical requirements of moving a large military force. They have to carefully plan the route to ensure the safe and efficient transportation of his troops. The legions would have to stop regularly to rest, resupply and attend to military matters, further extending the duration of the march. As a result, they only arrived to Ravenna after several months had passed, spending winter on the way. Their trek weary and very long. After their battle at Weser river, they journeyed back to Vetera castrum. And making a poignant detour to Teutoburg Forest to pay tribute to the fallen Roman soldiers and to retrieve the three aquilae'' of the fallen three legions. Now, as spring had set in, Germanicus led his troops into Ravenna city, after receiving a decree from Emperor Tiberius. Their arrival marking the end of a long and challenging campaign. The spring has come, they can smell it on the air. The ground is muddy as the snow from the last season has just melt. The birds are chirping in the distance. *Trudge* *Trudge* *Trudge* Germanicus rode into the city of Ravenna, his weary troops trailing behind him. Their destination was the Ravenna port. It had been five years since he left Rome, after meticulous planning and preparation for the campaign (12AD). Since being summoned to the palatium on Palatine hill, he hadn''t returned home. Instead, he now found himself traveling to Ravenna city and its port, bypassing his domus on Palatine hill. Tiberius, his adoptive uncle, who had seen him off five years prior. Now, stood as the second emperor of Rome, after Emperor Augustus died of natural death, three years after Germanicus'' departure (14AD). Or so they say. Waiting outside the entrance of Ravenna port, the emperor with his praetorian guards lined up behind him, awaited Germanicus'' arrival. A calculating smile spreading across his face. The overall commander and ex-general. The driving force behind the Germanic campaign. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Seeking revenge for their devastating defeat of Varus'' legions in the Teutoburg forest for Rome''s expansion eight year ago (9AD). As Germanicus dismounted his horse, Emperor Tiberius extended a hand. His voice now dripping with formal courtesy. "Well met, nephew. Your victories over Germanic tribes are a testament to your military skills and bravery!" Then he laughed, a joyous laugh, "Ha ha ha ha! well met indeed! Now let''s go in and enjoy the banquet i prepared for you and your men!" He then put his arms around Germanicus shoulder, "You must be tired!" He looked around and said to his guards, "Tell them to get ready! The heroes of our country is here!" The emperor''s joy is evident. Germanicus who still had Tiberius right arm around his shoulder tried to be formal and bowed his head albeit awkwardly and said. "Thank you, your grace. It is an honor to serve Rome." He isn''t used to the changed status of Tiberius yet. "Ha ha ha ha, don''t be to stiff, nephew. After all, we are a family!" Tiberius dismiss Germanicus awkward courtesy. "Now let''s go in!" And with that, together, the two set off inside the port leaving his troops and guards to trail behind them. As they entered, his nose got assaulted with the salty tang of seawater. The harbor is filled with various ships, from small fishing vessels to larger merchant and military ships. The water''s edge is filled with military storage, shipyards, armory, and fabrica''s workshop. Where blacksmiths, shield makers and armorers is can be seen hammering away. The sounds ringing out from the port through the air, at the glowing hot metals, trying to finish their work in time for the celebration''s banquet. Now, as they seated in the grand hall inside the port. Tiberius took his seat at the head of the table, and led Germanicus to his right. The room was already filled with other generals, nobles and some soldiers with positions. All eager to curry favor with the emperor and hear stories about Germinacus'' battle raids. "Let the banquet starts!" Looking around the table, Tiberius''s eyes surveyed the room. As if making sure that no one could overhear. His eyes full of curiosity, he is actually dying to ask his adoptive nephew. He leaned closer to Germanicus, his voice quiet, drowned by the people''s talk and laughter, "Tell me, nephew, what are your thoughts on the empire''s future? Do you have ambitions to one day sit upon the throne?" Germanicus''s eyes remained neutral but he did not expect the emperor to ask him like this directly. Although it''s been whispered, but to Germanicus it felt like Tiberius yelled it in his ears. Wariness crept into his voice. "May i be honest with you... uncle?" he whispered back to the emperor. Tiberius''s eyes gleamed sharply. All his attention is in Germanicus'' answer. But Germanicus is unaware of the Emperor''s change, revealing his true nature. Germinacus thinks back when he came back from Weser river to Vetara castrum. When his four year old son Caligula caught a fever after bawling his eyes out on the severed arm. A firm ''NO'' came in his head in an instant. He has no desire to sit on the throne. He''s grown weary of his five years in the battlefield. And to add politics in it? He only wants to rest and spend time with his family now that he is back. Then he remembered their detour to Teutoburg forest, where he had prayed for his fallen countrymen and comrades. ''Though i cannot let their sacrifices be in vain,'' he thought. Yet, if duty called him to fight once more for his beloved Rome. And even if the emperor stood in opposition.. Germanicus steeled himself for the ultimate decision - to take up arms, seize the throne, and restore honor to his nation. And so, Germanicus held onto the hope that this fragile peace would last long. And that Tiberius, despite his calculating nature, would prove to be a just and benevolent emperor. He lifted his silver cup, sipped the wine, and paused for a moment before responding, "No, my emperor, I am but a humble servant of Rome. My only ambition is to serve the empire and uphold its honor." Tiberius silently exhaled, releasing the breath he''d been holding. Reached for his own golden cup. He took a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving Germanicus. He was acutely aware of Germanicus''s popularity and the whispers that often compared them. Hinting that Germanicus would have been a better emperor. Tiberius smiled as he gazed at Germanicus, it was a masterful facade. Downplaying the weight of his earlier question. "Ha ha ha ha.." He raised his cup, "Excellent answer, nephew! Excellent!" As the night wore on, the conversation turned to Germinacus campaign. Making the emperor''s eyes slant a bit, when people praises his nephew. The banquet drew to a close. Tiberius announced that they would travel back to palatium at the morn. Right after that, he once again leaned in to Germinacus and say, "We''ll speak more tomorrow, nephew. For now let us enjoy the night." Germinacus nodded, but his mind was already racing with the implications of Tiberius''s words earlier. ''What does the emperor really wants?'' ************************ INDEX: Ravenna city - a city in italy, aquila/aquilae - eagle, a symbol of Legions Palatine Hill - a hill in Rome, where the Emperor''s palatium and other noble''s domus/states is located Emperor Augustus - First Emperor of Rome praetorian guards - elite imperial guards Varus - a roman general Teutoburg forest - located in germany Ravenna port - former roman military base fabrica - blacksmith workshop ************************ NOTE: I''ve change ''Germania tribe'' and ''Germania campaign'' to --- ''Germanic tribe'' ''Germanic campaign'' And that in Emperor Augustus time, there are 60 legions (each legions 5000-6000 soldiers). But then later reduced it to 28 legions. So in Tiberius time there are only 28 legions. And Germanicus commanded 3 legions in his Germanic campaign. And 3 legions got killed in Teutoburg forest by Germanic tribe, resulting for Tiberius and Germanicus to seek revenge, forgetting their original purpose of territory expansions. ************************ TIMELINE: 9AD - defeat of General Varus with his 3 legions in Teutoburg forest 12AD - August, Caligula is born - Germanicus left for his Germanic campaign 14AD - Emperor Augustus died - Agrippina visited Germanicus camp - conceived Julia, younger sister of Caligula 15AD - Agrippina gave birth to Julia on November 16AD - Agrippina left with Caligula, took him to Vetara camp. They left summer, and arrived on autum. - around Nov and Dec, weser battle happened 17AD- around January came back to Vetara camp -left Vetara camp -arrived at May (spring) *** I hope everything is clear *** Bittersweet taste of Victory 17AD, still around May, Palatine Hill "Io triumphe!" "Waaaaahhhh!" *Clack* *Clack* Germanicus is riding alongside Emperor Tiberius, with the Roman legions marching in formation behind them. They''ve only just stepped inside the city. But the people of Rome were already cheering and chanting as they lined the lively streets. Celebrating their triumphal procession to the palatium, located at the heart of the city. The air was thick with anticipation and excitement as the people watched their emperor and the Roman legions enter the city. Their armor glints under the sunlight. Roars from the crowd are deafening. "Roma victoria!" "Euge!!!" *Clack* *Clack* The sound of the crowd''s voices and the slow pounding of the horses'' hooves on the cobblestone streets created a thunderous sound that shook the air. "Io io io!" "Vivas imperator!" "Vivas Roma!" "Vivas imperator!" *Clack* *Clack* A group of Roman citizens, dressed in their finest garb, waved olive branches and laurel wreaths in celebration. The emperor had sent a messenger ahead of time to his palace, to announce their arrival. And the people had gathered to catch a glimpse of their victorious general. "Io io io!" "Vivas imperator!" *Clack* *Clack* Tiberius smiled, his face suffused with an air of supercilious arrogance, as he acknowledged the crowd''s adoration. With calculated grandeur, he raised one arm, then the other, in a stately, alternating gesture, as if bestowing benedictions upon the masses. The people''s cheers grew louder, and the chants became fervent. Tiberius was smiling more widely now at the people, one arm still raised as he basked in the people''s warm welcome. "Vivas imperator!" "Dii immortales!" "Io imperator!" "Vale Germanicus!" "Euge Germanicus!" "Vale imperator! Vivas Germanicus!" The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. As the procession continued, the crowd''s attention began to shift, and the chants changed and became more wilder than ever. Tiberius'' smile faltered, his eyes narrowing as he heard more and more of Germanicus'' name being shouted, instead of his. "Tch" Tiberius muttered, his expression darkening. He then decided to spur his horse forward, and went ahead faster than the procession. Germanicus, startled by the emperor''s sudden movement, reined in his horse for a moment. Oblivious to the emperor''s darkening mood, he urged his horse forward, following Tiberius closely behind. Breaking the procession. As he rode, his mind was consumed by worry about his young son, Caligula. He had sent the boy ahead to Agrippina with some of his men, but couldn''t shake off his concerns about the child''s well-being. Caligula had fallen ill after witnessing the gruesome sight of a severed arm falling off the cart. Which delayed their return to Ravenna for a bit. His mind turned to the loads of the cart. He smiled bitterly. ''The price of war'' he thought. They have to retrieve the pieces of their fallen soldiers. They can''t just let it be buried there. Germanicus sighed again, saying a silent prayer for his fallen comrades in the Weser river. Although the boy had recovered quickly, he could sense something was amiss. Caligula, once energetic and lively, now seemed distant. His head turned to the direction of his domus as if he was seeing it. The boy''s enthusiasm had vanished, replaced by nightmares that left him bawling his eyes out. ''I never should have asked Agrippina to take him to the camp'' Germanicus regretted. He is afraid his son has gotten traumatized. ''I should have gone with him, but i had to receive the triumph that Tiberius said he''d grant me'' he felt like his status and position as a general had become a curse. He wasn''t in the position to deny it. This is for the people of Rome. The campaign is for revenge. ''I could only hope that the boy will grew out of it, he''s still young'' he whispered to himself. *Clack* *Clack* The sound of the crowd''s cheers and the pounding of the horse''s hooves brought Germanicus back to the present. He also willed his horse to run faster, eager to reach the palatium to get it over with and reunite with his family. Tiberius, however, reached the palatium first. He just jumped down the horse, never waited for anyone and stomped angrily on the marbled floors as he walk. His leather-sandal-clad feet were echoing as he passed through the corridor as he made his way to his throne room. While ignoring the greetings of those around him. He is seething with resentment. He''s already been feeling overshadowed by his past predecessor, Emperor Augustus. Unable to take a step out of it. The senate constantly talked about how Emperor Augustus this and Emperor Augustus that, and now?! And now there is another man''s shadow looming over him. Tiberius'' paranoid nature and his jealousy had reached its boiling point. He began to plot. He''ll have to get rid of Germanicus for his name to shine throughout the whole empire and outside of it. ''I can''t do anything about Augustus now that he is dead, but i can do something to Germanicus while he is still alive''. ''Do it'' a woman''s voice said. ''No, don''t'' a man refuted. Tiberius tried to block the voices in his head. "Shut up!" but when he looked around there is no one. He is alone. He looked around once more and tried to calm himself. Tapping his feet on the marbled floor. ''Kill him'' ''No''. He answered in his head. ''Have someone do it...'' ''Like you''ve always done...'' Only then did the emperor''s mood lift up. He stopped tapping his feet. ''Yes i don''t have to do it myself.'' He sneered with himself and sat on the throne. ''I wont let you take whats mine Germanicus''. The problem is how he should go about this. ************************************ Germanicus stepped through the doorway of their domus. Leaving the banquet, Germanicus was finally free from the sound of raucous laughter and the smell of liquor that had filled the emperor''s celebration after he was given a triumph. His eyes locked onto Agrippina''s warm smile. The sun is setting, the orange glow of the sun is reflecting on Agrippina''s beautiful face and her blond hair. "My beautiful wife," Germanicus said, smiling. He finally felt like he was home. "Welcome home" Agrippina whispered. Germanicus swept his wife into a tender embrace. He brushed his lips against his wife''s ears and breathed in her scent. A gentle flowery smell that''s easy in the nose wafted through his senses. He closes his eyes. Agrippina feels shy in her husband''s embrace. She can feel the heat of his body. ''He''s alive and well'' Agrippina also closed her eyes and let herself be embraced by her beloved husband. "How are the children?" he asked, his voice full of concern. He''s still hugging Agrippina, not letting her go. "They''re fine.. though Drusus broke his leg, he jumped down a tree.." Agrippina replied. A small laugh escaped her, then she sighed. "But Caligula is..." a hint of worry has grace her face. She looked up at her husband''s face. "It''s alright.. everything will be alright", Germanicus, unable to resist, kissed his wife while promising that everything would be alright. Despite feeling a sense of foreboding, Agrippina let Germanicus'' sweet gentle kiss and embracing arms distract her. As they parted from the kiss, Germanicus quietly said,"Tomorrow we''ll attend the funeral". He thought of all his dead comrades'' bodies still lying in the carts. Understanding what he meant by funeral, Agrippina nods. A bit sad that her husband let her go. But she still smiled. ************************************ INDEX: Io triumphe - hail the triumph Roma victoria- Rome victoriou Euge - bravo/well done Io io io - similar to huzzah Vivas imperator - long life to the commander Vivas Roma - long live Rome Dii immortales - immortal gods Io imperator - hail to the commander Vale Germanicus - hail Germanicus Euge Germanicus - bravo/well done Germanicus Vale imperator - hail commander Vivas Germanicus - long life to Germanicus Pompa Funebris 20AD, around early January, Palatine Hill *Pitter-patter* *Pitter-patter* ''Is it possible for the sky to mourn?'' Lepidus wondered, gazing up at the dark sky. *Pitter-patter* *Pitter-patter* He squinted against the rain, his eyes red-rimmed from crying. His broken heart tightened. ''The sky is dark, and it''s weeping.'' He touched his chest, as if to soothe the ache within. The sound of the raindrops hitting the cobblestones created a melancholic melody that echoed Lepidus''s sorrow. *Splosh* *Splosh* The ten-year-old boy stood in the rain-soaked streets of Rome, where citizens of every social class rushed past. His dirty red tunica clinging to his thin little frame. His brown tattered cape offered little protection from the downpour. He was barefoot and shivering. His teeth chattered, and his lips trembled as he spoke to himself. "The sky is crying like me," he whispered. *Splosh* *Slosh* As he started to walk, Lepidus''s thoughts drifted towards his mother. He recalled the times she''d protected him from the cruelty of his father''s other wives, who often berates him. How she used to embrace him whenever he was crying and lonely. And how she''d tell him she''s alright while her face is red and swollen when they hurt her. The memory of her warm touch and gentle voice brought a fresh wave of tears to his eyes. ''Liar'', he bitterly said, stopping in his tracks. And bow his head down. Wiping his tears with his right arm. But she had died. She died last night. Leaving him alone and vulnerable. *Pitter-patter* *Pitter-patter* His father''s behavior wasn''t helping either when he found out she had died. He told him to take care of it. Like the one who died was not his beloved wife once. ''Well, he did love her at first but turned sour when he found out how the Cornelli family deceived him.'' Having him marry a daughter of a slave and not telling him beforehand, just because they didn''t have a suitable daughter but wanted power. ''Greedy people''. Those greedy people are his relatives. The Cornelli''s. When his father found that out, he immediately changed. From a loving husband to a cold stranger. He said he''d become the laughingstock of the nobles. The memory of his father''s angry and disappointed tone still lingered in Lepidus''s mind. Lepidus''s stomach twisted with a familiar ache as he thought about his father''s words: "The only son that i have is a half-ling! Vae! A son of a dirty slave!" The sting of those words seemed to seep into his bones, making the chilly rain feel even colder. *Pitter-patter* *Pitter-patter* As he walked through the city, the usual bustle of Rome felt muted, like a ghost town, save for the constant rainy sound that was enveloping the whole city. The eerie silence was oppressive, weighing heavily on Lepidus''s shoulders. He can see a lot of people out and about in the streets doing nothing. It''s as if they are waiting for something. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The usually noisy thermopolia vendors just around the corner were even closed. ''That''s unusual..'' Lepidus thought. ''I remember always going there with my mother.'' A faint smile crossed his lips as he recalled happier times with his mother. He stopped walking and, as if imagining the scene.. Whenever he wanted to eat something hot, he and his mother would walk from his father''s family estate to the mouth-watering smell of thermopolia. Those carefree days seemed like a lifetime ago. His stomach growled, he remembered he hadn''t even eaten since last night as he was busy holding his mother''s hand while in her dying breath. He looked at his dirty muddy hands that he used to bury his mother earlier this morning. He opened his palm and caught some rain water.. but it only slipped his hands. Washing the mud away, ''It stings..'' ''I''ve gained some scrapes'', he thought. *Pitter-patter* *Pitter-patter* His eyes started to tear again, it was cold. He can feel it in his bones, but his eyes and his insides are burning. The conflicting sensations of cold and heat mirrored the turmoil within him. ''Why? Why does mother have to be a daughter of a slave? Why? Then what does that make me? A slave too? I''m neither a patrician nor a pleabian. Is this my fate?'', he felt like he was drowning. ''Anyone please come save me.'' . A desperate cry for help was lost in the rain-soaked streets, leaving only the echos of his own despair. His knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground, scraping his knees. The weight of his reality comes crushing down on him. A few people are throwing glances at him, but nobody cares to ask. He is only ten years old.. but he''s been forced to grow old faster because of his circumstances. Still kneeling on the side of the road, lost in his despair, the sound of approaching chariots and litters broke the silence of the city as the rain gradually stopped falling. The sudden cessation of raindrops created an eerie stillness. The dark sky started to lighten up bit by bit.. Suddenly, the air fills with the scent of incense and wet stone. He heard low murmurs from the crowd. He looked up and tried to make sense of what was happening. Interrupting his emotional monologue. He is so engrossed in his own thoughts that he forgets where he is. He looked at the crowd of people. Their attention is distracted by the group coming into the city. Lepidus''s eyes scanned the crowd, he slowly got up, taking in the somber attire and downcast eyes. He could barely make out the words, but he thought he heard "Germanicus". Right, he heard about it when one of the wives was flogging him many nights ago, before her mother died. His father is talking to his other wives, saying "Germanicus has finally died." He smiled bitterly, the famed general, loved by all, commoners and nobles alike, ''Right, he died in Antioch. He was sent there by the emperor, to build friendly diplomacy between Rome and the provinces of the East. His family will be returning today with his ashes.'' The thought of Germanicus'' death seemed to weigh heavily on the city''s atmosphere. ''It''s like the sky is also grieving for him'' The woman riding in the luxurious litter caught his attention. Her face was carved with so much grief her eyes looked half crazy as she held an expensive-looking urn. Once the group passed an area, the people followed, resulting in a long line of procession to the Mausoleum Augusti. ''A funeral procession..'' The procession''s slow pace seemed to match the beat of Lepidus''s heavy heart. The world is unfair. When his mother died, it was only him and her and the one who dug her grave. Nobody cares about the daughter of the slave. As Lepidus watched the mourners, a pang of jealousy struck his chest. He remembered the lonely burial of his own mother. That person is not even mourning, it''s only Lepidus. The man just stood there and watched him cry. Why did Germanicus deserve such an outpouring of grief, while his own mother''s passing was met with silence? ''The world is so unfair..'' Lepidus''s gaze then wandered to the children accompanying the woman. One girl, about his age, possibly a daughter of Germanicus, stood out to him. She has a striking beauty. Piercing clear blue eyes, and slightly long wavy blond hair that it''s almost gold, it made her seem so otherworldly. ''A goddess''. He felt all the hair on his body stood up. She''s so beautiful! But it was the goddess''s empty expression that really stood out to him. It sent a shiver down his spine. The goddess looks like a statue. ''Well, so what if she''s that pretty?'' Lepidus shrugged. ''I''ve seen better, especially my mother.'' My mother is the most beautiful of them all! He turned his back and was about to make his way home. Suddenly, a sound so lonely stopped him in his tracks. It was a sweet voice. ''Singing?'' He was a bit confused. Who was it? He turned his head back and scanned the crowd and his gaze finally found the owner. It was the goddess. It''s so lonely that it''s soul-wrenching.. It makes his soul want to get out of his body. The goddess''s angelic singing voice seemed to draw Lepidus in, like a magnet, as he turned his whole body. And it was just in time for them to pass by him. He was starstruck when they got closer. His breath faltered. He felt like his whole body had turned on fire. ''The goddess is prettier up close.'' ''Why? Why do you sing like that? Do you also feel like me? Like the world has ended?'' The question hangs in the air, unanswered. Without thinking, Lepidus found himself following the procession after they had passed by him, his fatigue, his heartbreak, his loneliness, momentarily forgotten. The procession''s rhythmic pace seemed to lull Lepidus into a state of numbness. ******************************************* INDEX: tunica - Roman youth clothing Cornelli - one of the prominent family in Rome Vae - damn thermopolia - food store/tavern patrician - Roman nobles pleabian - commoners Antioch - city in Roman Syria Mausoleum Augusti- Emperor Augustus tomb Drusus Caesar Same timeline with Lepidus from the previous chapter. ''Our family has fallen,'' a small figure of a kid, stated as he observed his surroundings. ''Why are they being treated like this, with such pity and sadness?'' ''Where was the respect and admiration our family once commanded?'' As he pondered on this, he gazed out at the crowd. *rattle* *rattle* The chariot he''s riding in, rattled along the cobblestone streets. And Drusus''s eyes, met the somber faces of the people following them in their procession. *clatter* *rattle* The twelve-year-old boy, Drusus Caesar, the second son of Germanicus¡ªthe war hero, scrunched his face into a scowl. He could feel small vibrations of the uneven road in his body. Making him sick and tired. Impatience gnawed at him. *clatter* *clatter* It''s been several months since they left Syria. Where they stayed for one and a half years¡ªmonths of traveling not included. He remembered their first travel there. When his father was sent by Emperor Tiberius. It was a chaotic journey full of welcoming people. But this time around, things were eerily calm. *clatter* *rattle* Every city they passed by now, people lined up and bowed to them. Their faces were etched with somber expressions. But instead of feeling proud, he''s consumed by the realization that they''re looking at them with pity. Whereas when they first passed by here...the people had even offered festivities in his father''s name. *rattle* *rattle* Drusus focused himself now on the present time. As he suddenly felt like they were all staring at him. Their somber faces were fixed on him alone, not his family. It made him uncomfortable in his leather-upholstered seat. *jolt* The crowd''s dark attire seemed to blend together. A plethora of muted colors that stretched out before him. He noticed that some of the onlookers were still damp from the recent rain. Their dark clothes clung to their bodies. The air was heavy with the scent of wet stone and damp earth with incense. He can see the people''s faces still etched with pity and sympathy in the clearing skies. *rattle* *rattle* Drusus''s frustration simmered, his face growing hot with resentment. He hated being the object of their pity. Their sympathetic gazes make him feel weak and vulnerable. *clatter* *rattle* He straightened his back. He was riding in a luxurious chariot. People have to see him in a different light. Even though he is surrounded by his siblings and his grandmother inside on the same chariot. ''I at least should looked dignified,'' he said to himself. *clatter* *clatter* He looked around at the people riding with him. Their chariot is one of the imperial family''s one of many. A luxurious five-seater with intricate carvings adorned the felly, complemented by a rail. That served as both support and decorative design. The grandiose of the chariot screamed imperial family. Four brown horses are pulling it¡ªcourtesy of his grandmother''s. He held his head high peered down and look around once more at the pleabians¡ªhe felt like a ruler over looking his people. *creak* *creak* He stopped looking at the crowd and compare himself to his siblings. His two youngest sisters besides the babe in his grandmother''s arms. They look clueless, so oblivious to the problem on hand! *clatter* *clatter* He started to get irritated, and he doesn''t even know why. Drusus breathed in the smell of the leather and the scent of his grandmother. He was hoping to get himself back in control, but¡­ *rattle* *rattle* ''Doesn''t smell great'', he scowled again. And he glared at his grandmother, Antonia. Antonia''s face was etched with lines of age and concern. But her eyes shone with warmth and kindness. His grandmother is the niece of Emperor Augustus and the mother of his father. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ''She''s so old and small,'' Drusus thought. ''Doesn''t look like someone with a drop of royal blood in it.'' ''And she''s even a direct descendant, unlike grandpa!'' He remembered the earlier stop, before they entered Rome. When Antonia had tried to feed them. Urging them to eat before continuing their journey to the Mausoleum Augusti. "Drusus, here, eat," she had said, smiling warmly. She''s giving him a panis focacius. But it only made him feel dismayed. ''You are a member of the imperial family for god''s sake! Act like one!'' But instead of saying that to his grandmother, he just let his face speak. And he showed his grandmother his displeased face. *rattle* *rattle* She met them halfway from Syria, with her own chariots and horses. And urge that they change their exhausted ones. But his mother Agrippina refused and still rode in his father''s chariot. He now fixed his attention on his mother, Agrippina. ''Mother has gone crazy.'' he looked ahead at the back of his mother''s head. She''s solely riding his father''s chariot. ''She hasn''t spoken a word ever since father died.'' his blue eyes narrowed slightly. ''I''m the only one that''s sane here!'' he doesn''t count his youngest sisters. *rattle* *rattle* His mother Agrippina was beside herself with so much grief. She had forgotten about her children, especially him. He remembered the look in his mother''s eyes, her eyes vacant. Her face was a mask of grief. ''She looked really crazy.'' Drusus''s heart twisted with a mix of anger. And something else as he stares at her lonely back. He can''t explain it. Drusus glanced over at his older brother. Nero Caesar, who sat calmly. His eyes were fixed on some point ahead. How could he be so composed? ''Our family has fallen!'' he wanted to shout. Didn''t he feel the same anger and frustration that Drusus did? Then his eyes automatically led his gaze to his younger brother, Caligula. ''That empty gaze again,'' Drusus thought, feeling a spark of anger. There must have been something wrong with his brain. ''You attention seeker!'' he can feel himself getting angrier; his body is trembling slightly. The younger brother, who sat quietly, doing nothing and looking like a statue. ''You are the one that was so sick, you should have been the one to die, not father!'' *clatter* *clatter* He felt a surge of bitterness. This was the brother who had stolen their parents'' attention, who had made them worry and fret. Drusus had been the favorite once, the one who had basked in their parents'' praise and affection. But now, he was just a footnote, a mere afterthought. ''Especially you, Caligula! I hate you so much!'' *rattle* *rattle* As the procession continued on its way, he thought back about their time in Syria, hoping to calm his racing thoughts. He recalled their first journey to the East; it was a whirlwind of excitement and admiration. His father, Germanicus, had initially been reluctant, wanting to retire as a general and live somewhere quiet¡ªsome farm. He heard it on his father''s lips, and Drusus remembered how it was the first time he wanted to rebel against his father''s decision. He felt so confused and frustrated by his father''s decision. Why would he want to leave the hustle and bustle of Palatine Hill, where all his friends lived? It is where all the nobles like him are! He had confided it in his brother Nero Caesar, but his brother had simply shrugged it off. "Well, if it''s what Father wants, then we have no choice." Nero Caesar has dismissed it as if it''s not a big deal! Drusus had felt a pang of disappointment with his older brother. But later discovered the reason behind his father''s reason of wanting to live on a farm: his younger brother Gaius Julius Caesar, now Caligula. Another disappointment as a brother! Drusus''s anger simmered as he remembered how his parents'' attention had shifted after Germanicus and Caligula went home from the Vetera camp. Even in Syria! They fawned over the quiet Caligula! Lavishing him with attention while ignoring Drusus. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he glared at his youngest brother. ''You stole Father and Mother''s attention from me,'' he thought, his heart seething with resentment. *clatter* *clatter* The chariot''s vibrations brought him back to the present, and he exhaled slowly. He tried to calm himself. He recalled the day a lone messenger from the palatium arrived, bearing a decree summoning his father to the imperial palace. It feels like fate! ''The gods have not abandoned me yet! ''Drusus thought. Drusus had cried, begging his father to take him along. At the palace, Emperor Tiberius, his adoptive grandfather, told Germanicus he would be sending him to Antioch of the Orontes instead of his son. "The commotion in the East could only be settled by the wisdom of Germanicus," the emperor said in his solemn voice,"..for his own years were trending to their autumn, and those of Drusus were as yet scarcely mature." Emperor Tiberius is comparing Germanicus experience to his son''s, also named Drusus, who was older than him and younger than his father. The emperor was also looking at him when he said this. And Germinacus, unable to say a thing, even though his whole body seems like he doesn''t like what he heard, has no choice but to go. Drusus had felt a thrill of excitement, knowing his father wouldn''t be retiring soon. ''This means he won''t be retiring soon! and we''ll travel!'' He couldn''t wait to share the news with his friends, imagining their envy. Little did he know, this journey would change everything. *clatter* *clatter* They were welcomed with open arms in Nicopolis, near Actium, a city built by the great Emperor Augustus himself! The people of Athens feted us with endless festivities. And Drusus lapped up the attention, basking in the glory of his father''s fame. But not every city rolled out the red carpet for them. He recalled visiting a province in Asia, where they met a fortune teller who spewed some nonsense about bad luck befalling his father. "Hogwash!" his father said while laughing. Germanicus ignored the prophecy and continued to carry out his duties with diligence. They even attended a coronation event in Armenia, forging diplomatic ties with Parthia. That''s when things started to go awry. They have arrived in Syria, where general Gnaeus Calpurnius Piso was the governor. He couldn''t stand the way they looked at his family¡ªwith a mixture of disdain and contempt. Piso seemed to take pleasure in undermining his father''s authority. Even making snide comments about his mother, Agrippina. That almost made Germanicus kill Piso. ''I have to admit, Piso and his wife weren''t exactly the most pleasant people to look at'', Drusus thought in disgust. *creak* *creak* The Syrians themselves seemed to favor his father over the governor, which only added to the tension. When his father visited Egypt, Piso''s rage was palpable. He remember thinking that something was off, that the governor''s behavior was more than just petty jealousy. Looking back, he realize that Piso''s actions were just the beginning of a series of events that tarnished his father''s good name. ''But at the time, I just knew that I didn''t like the way Piso looked at us, like we were inferior to him.'' Drusus remembered the endless sun-baked days, the stifling heat, and the constant intrigue that seemed to swirl around them. And then, he remembered how his father had started to change. At first, it was just a slight fatigue, a hint of weariness in his eyes. But as the days turned into weeks, Germanicus''s strength began to fade. His body wracked by fever and pain. Drusus recalled the countless nights he had spent by his father''s bedside, listening to his labored breathing. Feeling his hot skin, and watching as the life seemed to seep out of him. The rumors had started circulating then¡ªwhispers of poisoning, of treachery, of dark magic. Drusus''s mother, Agrippina, had been frantic with worry. Trying to nurse Germanicus back to health, but it was too late. Now, as Drusus watched the funeral procession, he felt a wave of anger wash over him. Who had done this to his father? Who had taken him away from them? Now, as he looked around at the crowd again, he felt a surge of resentment. ''Why were they all staring at him with pity?'' ''Where was the awe and respect they had once shown him as the son of Germanicus?'' ''I hate this.'' He glanced at his younger sisters and his grandmother, who seemed oblivious to the gravity of their situation. ''Tch,'' He hates them too. He looked at Nero Caesar''s unchanged, composed face. ''I hate you too!'' He looked ahead at his mother carrying his father''s ashes. ''I hate you both!'' He then looked at his brother Caligula, his eyes narrowing; his eyes almost spit some fire. ''Most of all, I hate you so much!'' *creak* *creak* The crowd''s murmurs and the creaking of the chariot''s wheels filled the air, as they made their way towards the mausoleum. *creak* *creak* Drusus''s eyes scanned the crowd''s faces, searching for someone. Anyone, who would look at him with the same awe and respect they had once shown his father. But all he saw was pity. Then he heard Caligula''s voice after a long, long time. He started to sing the seikilos epitaph. ******************************************* INDEX: felly - The outer rim of a wheel, especially a wooden wheel. rail - A horizontal or sloping bar or structure, typically fixed, used for support or as a barrier. panis focacius - An ancient Roman bread, similar to modern-day focaccia. Antioch of the Orontes -An ancient city in Syria Nicopolis - A city in ancient Greece, founded by Augustus Actium - A promontory in ancient Greece, site of the Battle of Actium in 31 BCE Parthia - ancient empire in the Middle East ******************************************* NOTE: "The commotion in the East could only be settled by the wisdom of Germanicus for his own years were trending to their autumn, and those of Drusus were as yet scarcely mature."¡ªTiberius really said this about Germanicus. A Wifes Grief ''Hhhhnnnnnnnnnn'', a silent cry is being suppressed. Her calceus clad feet are touching the damp, rain-soaked grass, which had recently been flooded by the rain. *swish* *swish* The soft ground that was covered with grass feels so soft every time she steps on it. ''Hhnnnnnnnnn'', her silent cries did not betray the empty and vacant look on her face. *swish* *swish* She can''t even form a coherent thought in her head as she silently walks towards the Mausoleum Augusti, while carrying an urn. The moistened grass and mud sticks to her feet and to her long dark stola, making the end heavy and sopping wet. It''s getting harder for her to walk. ''Hhhhnnnnnnnnnn'' but she ignores it. The pain in her chest, the grief she''s feeling is consuming her whole being. *swish* *swish* She stepped on a protruding rock that was hidden in the grass and soft ground. She stumbled. But her grip on the urn did not loosen, she was ready to fall with it, but not before securing it into her bosom. Suddenly, two strong arms hold her in place from her back, forbidding her to fall on the ground. It was Claudius, the biological cousin of her husband and another adoptive son of Emperor Augustus. He is looking at her with understanding, his face serious. "Agrippina..", he started to say. But she flinched. Her name sounded so foreign in his lips. She struggled and willed herself to be free from the man''s hold. It felt like a hot iron in her cold skin, she felt burned by it. She didn''t want the touch of another man in her. Her eyes burned with silent hatred. Claudius studied her face once, sighed and let her go, shaking his head but did not say anything further. *swish* *swish* She started to walk again after gaining her footing. ''Hhhnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'', she cried again silently. Her children, Antonia and Claudius, silently follow behind her. And the mourners that accompanied their funeral procession earlier now hung back in the background. Their somber faces and quiet presence add a solemnity to the atmosphere. They are silently watching the family as they make their way to the mausoleum. *swish* *swish* *splat* She suddenly stopped walking and looked up at the shadow that dimmed her way. And she saw the imposing, large circular building made of travertine limestone. ''Mausoleum Augusti...'' her first coherent thought. It was surrounded by cypress trees, and around it were statues of different gods and goddesses. She didn''t feel anything - not particularly impressed or anything. If it were any other day than today she would stare at the impressive structure in wonder. But right now.. nothing. Stolen novel; please report. She stood and stared at it for awhile. The gentle breeze of winter season made the skirt of her stola and hair flew a bit. Her followers followed suit. Stopping and just taking in the scenery and the structure. She carefully hugs the urn in her chest like a delicate babe. As if she already knows that the time she needs to part with the urn is coming to an end. ''Hhhnnnnnnnnnnnn'' she silently started to cry again. ''Ever since he left me...'', Agrippina, still unable to accept that Germanicus is dead, she always refer ''left'' instead of dead and gone. She hugs the urn more tightly now, her chest starts to hurt. ''Ever since he left me... my heart has stopped beating..'' she continued on with her initial thought. ''I just breathe, but I''m not alive.'' She was moving, but she felt like a ship, letting the ocean move her body. Looking down at her muddy feet.. she willed it to move. Her legs now are trembling. Then her eyes gaze at the urn she''s holding in her chest. A lone tear drips down her eyes, then two and three.. ''My eyes.. it rains on their own''. She lost control and let the tears she was holding roll down her face. "Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!" she finally let the scream of agony she was keeping inside her. Her knee buckled, and she slumped down the grassy and muddy ground. *thud* "Hhhnnnnnnnn... Aaaahhhhhhh!!!" she cried and screamed like a crazy woman while holding the urn oh so preciously. "Why? Why? Why? Oh gods.. Why?" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Waaaaaahhhh... Hhhnnnnnn.... Hic hic.", unable to suppress it all anymore, she wept for a long time. Her black stola was drenched and soaked with a mixture of grass and mud. The people around her let her cry it all. Her children who never saw her cry when their father died sniffled, their eyes started to tear up. They can feel the grief radiating itself from Agrippina. It''s like Agrippina is grief itself. She remained in that state for a long time. Until the morning sun hid behind the clouds, casting a dim gloom over the scene. As her sobs gradually subsided, her oldest son, Nero Caesar, cautiously approached her. He puts his hands on her shoulders and quietly called her. "Mother..let''s go" as if there was something blocking his throat, his voice cracked. "Let father rest now." They stayed like that for a while and then Agrippina held out her hand to her son. Claudius started to move to help, but Drusus Caesar beat him to it. He ran to his mother and older brother. They then both helped Agrippina stand to her feet. Julia, who is younger than Caligula, who is now four years of age, also runs to her mother and hugs her legs. It''s like they missed her. And glad that it looks like she has started to come back to her senses. She looked at her children, from Nero Caesar, Drusus and Julia. Then to Caligula, Drusilla and to her youngest Livilla. Her gaze soon met Antonia''s, who mirrored her grief. Then to Claudius. His brown hair is lighter than her husband''s, and his eyes are not the same blue. Her eyes narrowed, he looked nothing like her husband. Then her gaze looked around the people around them. Not moving and staying silent. Their eyes were also filled with sadness. She''ll always remember this moment, she decided. Nero Caesar urges her to move, still holding her arms. Her eyes still red and sore, her snot still in her face. She let herself be guided by her sons. With every step, the urn she''s holding feels heavier. It''s like Germanicus himself is letting Agrippina feel his presence. She steeled herself, until she let go of herself from her older son''s hold. Glancing at Nero Caesar, she gave him a look. And it seemed like he understood what it meant. He stopped Drusus from walking together with Agrippina, who got startled and was about to pick a fight with Nero Caesar. But Agrippina had already started her own procession with the urn safely tucked in her chest. *clack* *clack* She willed herself to move forward, inside the mausoleum. *clack* *clack* The air outside smelled of grass, trees, and earth, but once she stepped inside the building, the air was thick with incense, myrrh, and burning offerings. The smell of decay and death was also present, as if to say to Agrippina that this was no place for the living. It was assaulting her nose, but she let it be. The interior was dimly lit, with a narrow entrance leading to a circular chamber. An overseer of the mausoleum bowed and greeted her, but she ignored it. She looked at the walls that were clean, save for the niches that lined them, each containing a sarcophagus or urn. The overseer followed her inside, not saying anything, just watching and waiting to guide her. She stepped forward; the atmosphere was somber, the weight of history and immortality hanging in the air as she was surrounded by the remnants of the imperial family''s past. *clack* *clack* No noise could be heard but the footsteps on the marbled floor. As she approached the central chamber, her eyes fell upon the imposing tomb of Augustus, the founder of the Roman Empire. The tomb was adorned with intricate carvings and ornate decorations. Agrippina''s gaze lingered on the tomb for a moment before she turned to the guide. "Where?" her voice was hoarse from all the crying and screaming. This was the first time she had spoken to someone after her husband''s death. "Where?" she repeated, but this time it was a whisper. The overseer bowed respectfully and pointed to a specific location near the tomb of Augustus; he was still bowing when Agrippina pointed her gaze to the area that had been pointed out. She carefully placed the urn on a raised platform, surrounded by other urns and sarcophagi of the imperial family. The platform was made of white marble, adorned with intricate carvings and inscriptions. As she stepped back, she gazed upon the urn, now nestled among the remains of her illustrious family. She whispered a silent prayer, hoping that Germanicus''s spirit would find peace among their ancestors. The family members and attendants surrounding her bowed their heads in respect, acknowledging the passing of a great Roman hero, Germanicus. ************************************** After everyone left, Agrippina and Claudius stood side by side. Antonia, her mother-in-law, have already taken the children with her and went back to her family estate. The silence was loud as they just stood there and not saying anything. Claudius sneaked a glance at Agrippina, finding a way to start a conversation. But Agrippina''s defenses and her aura, made it impossible for him to speak up. Claudius sighed and focused his eyes on the Germanicus urn. His eyes became unreadable. Suddenly, Agrippina broke the silence. "Where is your uncle?" Agrippina is asking where Tiberius is. Silence followed. "Esquiline Hill", Claudius answered quietly. Agrippina took a breath as if she was trying to calm herself. "Is he not aware that his nephew''s ashes will be arriving today?" He sighed again as if the question was something hard to answer. After a while, "The emperor is aware," he admitted. "And why did i not see his shadow here?" Claudius, unable to answer immediately, gulped at Agrippina''s question. But he finally told the truth, "I really don''t know." The truthfulness in his voice made Agrippina close her eyes. She straightened her back and she faced Claudius. Her eyes are still red, the half-crazy look is still there in her eyes, but this time with anger in it. "It''s him, right?" her tone accusing. "We do not know that Agrippina." Claudius answered, but his eyes were wandering looking for someone listening. "We do not know that." Claudius repeated, emphasizing his words, his eyes stopping her from saying anything anymore. "It is him." but she stubbornly answered. Confident even. "Listen, you can''t be saying things like this out loud". he warned her. He looked around once more, but suddenly a hurrying footsteps can be heard echoing the silent mausoleum. They stared at each other, neither speaking. Agrippina stubborn, Claudius cautious. "Matrona! Matrona Agrippina!" a vilici''s voice that Agrippina knew was could be heard calling for her. Her eyes turned sharply at the direction it was coming from. The vilici, who entered, turned pale when he saw her matrona''s angry face. He gulped, but the urgency of his news is more important at the moment than his matrona''s rage. He hurriedly told her the news. "The emperor had his praetorian guard arrest the governor of Syria." he said. But Agrippina just stared, her eyebrows raising, as if to say, so what? "His sin is.." he gulped, "Poisoning the Dominus Germinacus" It''s like something exploded within her. "What?" ************************************** INDEX: calceus - footwear of women/sandals Mausoleum Augusti - tomb of Augustus and some imperial family stola - a dress by married woman matrona - married woman travertine limestone - a type of limestone they used before Esquiline Hill - of the hills in Roma vilici - a slave that oversees family states or domus/often skilled Dominus - male master The Die is Cast Piso stood at the entrance of his domus on Palatine hill, overlooking the city of Rome, gazing out into the rain-soaked darkness of the night. His domus, located at the Caput Mundi Roma, stood as a grand testament to his success as a general and influence as a governor of Syria. From the outside, his residence looks plain and unassuming, with plain walls and a wide, simple entrance where he is standing now. However, the interior revealed a different story. Intricate colorful frescoes adorned the inside walls, while polished white marble floors gleamed under his foot. But it was dark and it was raining, so he couldn''t appreciate it right now. It was a very cold night. *shwaaaaa* The central courtyard, called the atrium has a large fountain in the middle of it and is surrounded by statues. Various rooms branched out from the atrium including the tablinium, the triclinium, and the cubiculi. *shwaaaaa* The atrium behind him was dimly lit, casting his shadows from the flickering lucerna he held, an oil lamp. The only sound was the patter of raindrops on the roof and the gentle "tsss" of the flame. *tsssssss* *crackle* It may have been an hour before dawn or more, but sleep has long since abandoned Piso. His restless mind was consumed by the same questions that had haunted him for days like the relentless weather. How on Jupiter''s name did Germanicus really die? "I haven''t even done anything yet," he mumbled bitterly to himself, his voice barely audible over the hissing sound of the lucerna and the raindrops from the roof. *tsssssss* *shwaaaaa* "I had planned to strike, hiring assassins to kill him and his family while they traveled...," he continued to mumble to himself as if what he was saying was just something about the weather and not a plan for murder, "...perfect moment when Tiberius''s decree would summon them back to Rome." *crackle* *shwaaaaaa* In the shadowy corridors of the Roman Empire, Emperor Tiberius ruled with caution, suspicions, and paranoia¡ªhis eyes ever-watchful for potential threats to his throne. Piso had known Tiberius''s nature even before he became the second emperor¡ªa man consumed by ambition and fear. Had the former emperor not died of natural illness, he might have not chosen Tiberius as the emperor, add the fact that Germanicus wasn''t there in Rome when he died. "Well, Emperor Augustus made an arrangement though, that no matter what happens, Germanicus will be the one next in line to Tiberius.." he said in a quiet voice, then he looked around as if to see if there was anyone who may have heard it. Although Tiberius made sure not to let anyone know about that fact, only the selected few when Augustus was on his deathbed. And Piso is one of those people who knew. *tsssssss* *shwaaaaa* The new emperor''s gaze had fallen upon Germanicus, a charismatic and victorious general, whose popularity and influence made Tiberius an unwilling wallflower. A wallflower who doesn''t want to be one, but has no choice but to become one as he is being overshadowed even though he is the emperor. *tssssssss* Tiberius ordered Germanicus to travel to the Eastern provinces to resolve conflicts and secure the region''s loyalty to Rome after his victorious campaign in Germania years ago. But that was only superficial, a lure for the famous general. Germanicus, devoted to Rome and duty-bound, set out on the long journey with his family, unaware of the treacherous environment awaiting him. *shwaaaaaa* As the last remnants of twilight succumbed to the darkness, the rain-soaked streets of Rome glistened like polished stone. *tsssss* The soft, golden glow of the lucerna that he held, cast a warm, intimate light amid the dark, foreboding gloom, creating an oasis of tranquility. And he stared at the scenery although his mind was elsewhere. Piso recalled Tiberius''s secret instructions: to ensure Germanicus''s loyalty and prevent him from gaining too much influence or popularity and to eliminate him in Syria if necessary. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. "But I won''t do that, acting alone. That''s just asking to be the scapegoat" he sneered at Tiberius. "He thought he was so clever" He had arrived in Rome a month earlier, intending to report to Tiberius and request that Germanicus be recalled to Rome while he was sick in Syria, and set the plan in motion. But fate had intervened. Germanicus, it seemed, had already died. ''From an unknown illness?'' he can''t believe it. ''A fever, they said?'' Piso''s lip curled in disdain. How convenient. A death so convenient for a man like Germanicus. He allowed himself a bitter chuckle, his thoughts turning dark. "Pfft." What a great way to die for someone like him. He doesn''t feel empathy for the dead general. "That is his karma." The seeds of rivalry had long been sown between Piso and Germanicus before he even became a governor of Syria. It was not a rivalry born overnight, but one that had taken root slowly, nurtured by old grievances and simmering ambitions. Piso remembered it as if it was just yesterday.. They just both became general at the time. But Germanicus had long been seen as the golden child of the imperial family. Being born in both two prominent patrician families set him apart as a member of Rome''s elite. A true golden spoon to the bone. Which contrasted with Piso''s family. The Calpurniis. His family had humble plebeian origins but rose to prominence through notable figures, including consuls and governors, ultimately earning patrician status. And the difference between them is so noticeable like night and day, there can never be anyone to compare him with. It made him feel left out in his shadow, constantly overlooked, and undervalued. And his pride as a general was constantly taking a hit. He felt slighted¡ªnot just as a man, but as a servant of the empire who had worked tirelessly for its advancement. Still, he doesn''t feel any resentment toward the person involved, since Germanicus does not entertain it and would always say that they are all equal as a man in the eyes of gods and goddesses. And he always shows that he is competent and that he does not rely on his family''s influence. And it made Piso hold Germanicus in high esteem, drawn to his exceptional character and impressed by his self-reliant qualities. And then comes Agrippina, the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on. She had become the object of his desire but later found out that she was set to marry Germanicus. That it broke his heart. ''Well, I married Placina, one of Germinacus''s many ex-lovers.'' He married his wife to at least get something out of Germinacus, just one reaction even just a frown would do! But there is none, as if Agrippina his wife is the only one in his eyes! *SHWAAAAAAAA* Suddenly, the patter of raindrops on the roof and pavement intensified, growing louder and more insistent. The rain began to drive against Piso''s face, stinging his skin with icy droplets that soaked through his clothes, chilling him to the bone. *swaaaaaa* Piso channeled his emotions into his work, using the demands of serving Rome as a distraction from the pain of his unrequited love and the simmering resentment he felt towards Germanicus. In the end, he was promoted and later appointed to become the governor of Eastern provinces in Asia. But Germinacus saw his rise to ranks as too early, he cited his concerns about Piso''s suitability for the role. Dismissing his ambitions as petty and misguided, and making his hard work feel like horseshit. That was the start of the animosity between them. From then on, Piso will always give snide remarks to Germinacus. And Germanicus would always counter smartly, making him lose face in the end. He started to seethe. Then he tried harder and saw an opportunity to finally break free from Germinacus''s shackling family background. They say governing the Eastern provinces would be a great honor, but he knows better! It''s a thankless task, a never-ending headache of petty squabbles and border disputes. That''s when his eyes set on the Silk Road! An important trade route connecting East Asia and the Mediterranean region. A major channel for exchanging goods between East and West. The prospect of amassing wealth and power, unbothered by the burdens of governing a vast and unruly region, is intoxicating. It will make him equal to Germanicus! If not, more! And the Silk Road belongs to, Syria! A smaller scope, a more manageable domain, and most importantly, control of the lucrative Silk Road. It was a prize worth claiming. He''ll take it from the man who didn''t deserve it. Who did not see its potential! A governor there was more than just a bureaucrat; he was the gatekeeper of riches, the link between East and West, the one who could bend the empire''s vast trade routes to his will. *tssssss* The flame in the lucerna he was holding started to fade. I''ll be the master of my own destiny, wielding power with precision, and reaping the rewards of the Silk Road''s riches! He had fought for Syria¡ªnot just to hold a title, but for the Silk Road, for wealth and power. In the end, Syria became his, even though Germanicus objected again, and criticized him again for taking it. It made Piso''s pride took another hit, making him furious with Germanicus who had everything down to a golden platter from birth! While the golden boy had scorned him for taking it, Piso had watched as Germanicus''s criticism only fueled his resentment. ''Well, maybe he found out what I''m really after'' he thought. Germanicus'' view is more aligned with the needs of the empire. Piso, however, saw it as his rightful place. Germanicus had been loyal to Rome, to its ideals, and his ambition burned with the heat of a thousand unspoken dreams. How naive, he thought. To Germanicus, Piso''s hunger for power had been obvious, yet misguided. He saw Piso''s growing influence in Syria as a threat to Rome''s stability and, perhaps more personally, to his legacy. Piso, in turn, had never taken kindly to Germanicus'' interference. The criticism stung, fueling a resentment that had festered deep within him. As Germanicus made his departure to Germania, Piso''s resentment only grew. The prospect of Germanicus rising more than ever, the adoration of the people, and the favor of the former emperor¡ªall of it made Piso''s ambition burn brighter. He knew that for his own future to be secured, Germanicus'' path must be obstructed. And, perhaps, this was the moment when Piso truly realized the depth of his ambition. It was no longer just about proving himself worthy and amassing wealth of the governor''s post in Syria¡ªit was about shaping the future of Rome, about ensuring that He, and not Germanicus, would be the one to rise. Now, with Tiberius''s blessing, Piso had seen an opportunity to rise even further¡ªby removing Germanicus altogether. But it doesn''t matter now.. *tsssssssss* The lucerna he is holding died on its own, but it doesn''t matter since the sun has already risen. Today, the ashes of Germanicus would return to Rome, and he wondered if he should attend the funeral. It has been months since he left Syria, Germanicus was still alive then, albeit already sick. Unbeknownst to him, his plan to eliminate Germanicus using assassins had become unnecessary; fate had intervened, and the general had died before Piso could put his plan into action. *Clank, clank, clang* His thoughts were disrupted by the slaves starting their early routine ¨C the banging and clanging of pots indicated they were already cooking. *shwaaaaaaa* The rain still poured heavily, as if trying to prevent people from attending Germanicus''s funeral. It might even cause delays, Piso thought, his mind then wandering to Agrippina. "Hoh, since Germanicus is already dead, I might take a shot with Agrippina. She''s still alluring, unlike my wooden wife." *Splorch-splorch-splorch* As he turned his back, he heard the sound of horses galloping nearby. It wasn''t just one or two horses; there were many, and the sound was unmistakable despite the rain. *fwip* Piso''s curiosity was piqued, he wondered what was happening. *Splorch-splorch-splorch* The galloping grew louder, and he sensed the horses were approaching. Were they coming for him? Just then, a line of praetorian guards appeared, looking like they were being chased. Piso''s thoughts turned to the emperor. He waited, and soon a drenched praetorian guard, clad in armor, arrived at his footsteps. Piso recognized him ¨C Sejanus, Tiberius''s most trusted man. He didn''t like him; he could sense Sejanus''s ambition. A plebeian daring to dream of power? he scoffed inwardly. "What is it?" Piso asked Sejanus, standing face-to-face with him and the surrounding praetorian guards. His domus was now surrounded. Sejanus stared at him, his expression unreadable. Piso''s anger grew. "What do you want?" he yelled. Slaves and even Placinda emerged from their cubiculum, drawn by the commotion. Sejanus finally spoke, "Decree of the Senate concerning the Elder Gnaeus Calpurnius Piso." Piso''s eyes narrowed. "You are to be imprisoned for suspicions of colluding and poisoning Nero Claudius Drusus also known as Germanicus Julius Caesar." "Guards! Seize the criminal!" Sejanus ordered. The praetorian guards closed in. Their eyes are cold. As if they are looking at someone unworthy. With a swift motion, the guards shackled Piso''s wrists and ankles, rendering him immobile. *click* *click* They have easily captured him. His face twisted in a snarl, he tried to break free from the cold shackles but it was futile. *thud* They made him kneel down on the cold wet floor. Piso''s face turned ashen, his eyes wide with terror. "What? What are you doing?" he stammered, his voice shaking. "No! I didn''t... I couldn''t..." he struggled against his restraints, his voice rising to a frantic crescendo. "Call the emperor! Now!" ************************************ INDEX: Caput Mundi Roma - Rome capital of the world atrium - central courtyard tablinium - where they receive guests over triclinium - dining area with triclinia triclinia - a large, U-shaped couch for reclining during meals cubiculum/cubiculi - bedroom/rooms Lucerna - oil lamp Those with Bad Intentions The night had fully settled in.. And the surrounding darkness seemed to swallow everything in its path, leaving behind an oppressive silence. The usual rain of the season was absent tonight. Still, the air remained damp and cold. Plancina gazed into her speculum. Her reflection staring back from the polished bronze surface, looks calm and composed¡ªunusually so, for a wife whose husband was now imprisoned. Nearby, an array of cosmetics lay scattered across the table¡ªopened, used, and left unattended. As if she could not care less about whether they were cleaned away or left to waste. A typical behavior for a woman of her caliber. She''s a noble. Her fingers absently ran through her dark hair, the motion was habitual, her thoughts drifting far away from the present. Four beeswax candles flickered in the room, their warm glow dancing against the cold night air. A wasteful act. The fire illuminated the smooth, rounded surface of the speculum, casting shadows that deepened the hollows of her pale face. The soft flicker of the flames created sharp shadows beneath her high cheekbones. It outlined the delicate curve of her neck, where her pulse fluttered, faint but constant. She looked thinner in her dark stola than usual¡ªthough not from any physical ailment. The weight of her thoughts pressed heavily upon her, not allowing her the ease of her usual grace. Her shoulders were drawn inward, as though burdened by the very guilt that gnawed at her. But still, she maintained the composure of a woman who had mastered her emotions. But guilt...? No..that was not what consumed her. She denied herself, shaking her head a bit. No¡ªguilt had never been a friend to her. What consumed her now was fear. Yes, fear did. Fear of being caught. Fear of the consequences. Fear that Sejanus would no longer turn his gaze toward her, once Plancina''s role in this was completed. She''s not that naive. No, never. She continues to deny it. Yes, she was the one who had poisoned Germanicus in Syria. Yes, it had been Sejanus''s orders. And yes, it had been done out of a thirst for revenge. She breathed in the cold air, mixed with the smoke coming from the candles. "Whew" They said hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Even though it''s been years, decades even... But she could still feel it all¡ªhow she had loved Germanicus. Her very first love, the one who had left an indelible mark upon her heart. Even after all this time. Plancina can still vividly picture Germanicus''s image in her head. She closed her eyes. His blue eyes¡ªpiercing, and tempestuous, like a storm that could consume you with a single glance. A look that could melt you, as if he could see straight into your soul. Hah! And that knowing glance¡ªalways the kind of look that made you think of things... like carnal things. Hnnnng! It made her blood stir. Nnnnmm! The soft long brown hair, which he would run his hands through when lost in thought. His long, strong capable fingers... hah! His square jawline, lips full and inviting..., like they were meant to be kissed... hah! It made her want to sit on his lap, feel the warmth of his body, feel protected by his strong arms... hah! She opened her eyes, her gaze a found her reflection in her speculum. Emotions swirled in her brown eyes. Plancina stopped herself mid-thought, feeling a slight wave of shame for fantasizing about a man who had been dead. The ache was deep, but she couldn''t stop it. How could she? She had done everything in her power to win him, to hold onto him. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. To make him see her, feel her... to make him belong to her. But no, he wouldn''t even look at her! She looked at her face in the speculum. I''m also beautiful.. her face looks like it''s about to cry. But no. He had never even looked at her. He did not behave as she had hoped. Then her face changed to an angry expressions. And then, one day, Agrippina¡ªher best friend, her rival¡ªswooped in and stole him from her. That harlot! Plancina clenched her jaw, her fingers digging into her hair as memories flooded back. She had tried everything. She had even spread lies, claiming to be one of his many lovers, though he had none and she was not. All in a desperate bid to drive a wedge between him and Agrippina. But it hadn''t worked. No matter how many whispers she fed the palatium corridors, no matter how much she painted herself as the victim, nothing worked. Germanicus had been untouchable, unreachable. She''s never even able to touched even a strand of his hair. If it''s like that then, she''d rather have him dead than in her arms. Yes, it had taken years, but so what? Finally, after everything, no one¡ªnot even Agrippina¡ªhad a grip on Germanicus. Not even in death! You''ll be forever in my memories, darling, she thought, her lips curling into a sad, bittersweet smile as she kissed him goodbye... in her imagination. How she imagined to kiss Germanicus like this. A hundred? A thousand? No a million times! Hah! She moistened her lips and imagined him kissing her passionately. His capable fingers is dangerously close to her inner thigh, teasing her. She bit her lip. Suddenly she can feel a white hot fluid run down her thighs. Unnnnnn she moaned. Her fingers slowly caressed her inner thigh, a rhythm that matched her unsettled heartbeat. She looked one more time in her speculum, and she stared at herself guiltily. An act that she always does whenever she fantasizes about him. It tasted bitter, but she knew that she could only have him in this way. She takes off her gaze in her guilty reflection. She tried to think of something else. Then she only remembered that she had a husband waiting for her. Now, she had another task waiting for her in the dungeon. Oh darling, she mused darkly, the smile still playing at the corners of her lips. Don''t worry, you won''t be lonely. Then she smiled, sweetly, fondly, almost as if she were remembering him with affection. She blew softly on the candle next to the speculum, her breath a soft, delicate exhale. The flame trembled for a moment, then snuffed out with a sudden flicker, as though demonstrating how easy it is to snuff out a life. The air filled with the warm, comforting scent of beeswax, thick and sweet, lingering in the silence like the memory of a kiss. It was the same smell she remembered from that day¡ªthe day Germanicus fell. The day the future had been altered forever. *********************************** The night had fully settled. Casting a damp, chilly gloom over the lamp-lit corridors of the palatium. The usual rain of the season was absent. But the air remained heavy with moisture, like a held breath. Sejanus walked down the hallway. Wearing his tunica militaris, a gladius safely tucked into his belt at his right hip. His sandal-clad feet clicking on the cold stone floor. *tick-tock* *tick-tock* The sound echoed off the walls, punctuating the silence. That crazy woman, Sejanus thought while he was walking. She really did it. At first, he had been skeptical. Skeptical? He''d been downright doubtful. How could someone so... ordinary, so fragile-looking, possibly carry out such a delicate task? She didn''t look like someone who could pull off a murder. Mousey, maybe. Nervous? Yes. The way she shifted when he looked at her, the way her fingers twitched. Almost as if she might betray herself at any moment¡ªit had all made him hesitate to be honest. She wants to pretend she''s confident; he knows what''s running in her ugly head. Now that she''s done an exquisite job, she''ll think that she''s all that. Pfft. Pretentious bitch. *tick-tock* *tick-tock* But then, after a few stolen moments of quiet intimacy, whispers that only they could hear. And fleeting kisses that left her breathless.. Sejanus had found himself effortlessly wrapping her around his finger. The subtle roll of her waist, the soft surrender of her body, had been all the encouragement he needed. And that had been the victory. The control. Sejanus chuckled to himself. *tick-tock* *tick-tock* "Just a few soft words, a little brush of the lips, a circling of her waist... and she was mine." ''So easy.'' The thought filled him with smug satisfaction, almost like a warm fire crawling through his veins. It wasn''t just that she was compliant¡ªno, she''d given herself up entirely. He had watched her unravel, piece by piece, like a book opening before him, every chapter easier than the last. It was almost laughable. So simple. *tick-tock* *tick-tock* "Pfffft!" He couldn''t help but laugh aloud at the thought, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the corridor. The air was cold, the smell of polished stone and dust lingering like a faint perfume. He took in a slow breath and smiled to himself, feeling the power of his position settle comfortably in his bones. *tick-tock* *tick-tock* He was Sejanus, a plebeian who had clawed his way to the top, and he was far from done. From nothing to this... He had earned it. His eyes sharpening, I will never get back to that kind of life. Every whispered promise, every gesture, every favor. The price had been steep, but nothing in this world came without a cost. And soon¡­ his thoughts darkened, but there was no bitterness, only hunger. As he turned a corner, the faint scent of burning incense wafted from the throne room. Mingling with the musty smell of old stone and the sweet hint of polished marble. The air was thick with anticipation, like the moment before a storm broke. Soon... Should I ask Tiberius to hand me the throne? Ha! That doddering fool. Sejanus''s lips curled into a contemptuous smile. He recalled the emperor''s terrified face when he''d saved his life all those years ago. Since then, he had carefully cultivated Tiberius''s trust. Manipulating the emperor''s fears and insecurities to his advantage. Now, Tiberius hung on his every word, seeking Sejanus''s counsel and guidance like a puppet on strings. Easy... so easy. *tick-tock* *tick-tock* The sound of his steps and heartbeat was the only sound he needed. Sejanus sneered to himself, thinking about the twists of fate that had placed Tiberius on the throne. He had tried to manipulate Augustus before, but that emperor had been too cunning, too perceptive. And Germanicus? If he had ascended to the throne, Sejanus''s plans would have been far more complicated. Germanicus would have been a formidable leader, with a sharp mind and a strong sense of justice. But fate had intervened, oh, more like Sejanus had intervened, he smirked. And now Sejanus held the reins. Then all this, all of this, will be mine. He snorted at the absurdity of it, at how easy it had all been. He felt a flicker of amusement¡ªhe''d joked with himself before, but now... the joke was on everyone else. Tiberius was a weak, paranoid old fool, and Sejanus had already mapped out his ascent. His eyes gleamed, an intense hunger creeping into his smile as he approached the corridor leading to the throne room. The air grew thicker the closer he got, as though the walls themselves were aware of his presence. *tick-tock* *tick-tock* The distant echo of his sandal-clad feet clicking on the cold stone was the only sound in the corridor, almost rhythmic, like the beat of his own heart. It''s time, he thought. His pulse quickened, but there was no excitement¡ªonly the calm, assured nature of a predator who knew his prey was already in his grasp. His fingers twitched as he whistled softly, the sound a careless note of ease and confidence. *phheeeeet* The sharp smell of old stone, burning incense from the throne room beyond. And the faint scent of dust clung to the air as he moved, the atmosphere heavy with expectation. He could feel the weight of the empire pressing down on him, but it didn''t feel oppressive¡ªno, it felt... like something he was destined to carry. Tiberius would be a fool to deny him. Sejanus''s smile spread wider as if he were already tasting the sweetness of the power to come. A low, self-satisfied chuckle rumbled in his chest. Hmm. The sound was like a cat''s purr, a sign of contentment. The throne would be his. *tick-tock* *tick-tock* All of it. And when the time came, he would relish in the moment of taking victory. A promise of pleasures to come. *********************************** INDEX: speculum - polished bronze surface, used as a mirror for nobles Whispers in the Shadows The time was very late, the night stretching long and still, like a canvas of blackness waiting to be filled. The air was cool, yet heavy, thick with the scent of moist earth after rain. It clung to Agrippina''s whole being, like a damp shroud, mingling with the distant tang of the Tiber river. The river''s gentle flow was a reminder of the city''s lifeblood, its soft gurgling seeming to breathe secrets of its own, concealing the tension in the air. The moon, now a crescent in the dark sky, indicated that the rain would not fall for the rest of the night, despite being in season. It cast an eerie glow over the Roman streets, its pale light twisting silhouettes into living things. Agrippina''s footsteps broke the silence, her heels tapping rhythmically on the rough cobblestones. The flickering flames of the torches cast ghostly outlines along the walls, and every whisper of the wind seemed to echo with the city''s unspoken secrets. She felt like an intrusion into the quiet, dark world of Rome, where every stone seemed to hold a mystery. Agrippina had just left the Mausoleum Augusti, where she had laid her husband''s ashes to rest alongside the former emperor''s sarcophagi and the imposing stone monuments of Rome''s imperial family. The weight of grief still gnawed at her chest, a relentless ache that matched the darkness surrounding her. As she walked, the fine wool of her husband''s cape, a gift from her mother-in-law Antonia, settled over her frame like a weight, its fibers soft yet thick with the memory of his presence. The scent of him lingered in the fabric, faint but undeniable, a cruel comfort. Everywhere she passes by, there sparks a flurry of whispers and rumors among the plebeians¡ªrumors of betrayal, of a throne denied to her husband. Every corner she turned to, held a story¡ªthat her husband is sent to Antioch to deprive him of his birthright. It''s affecting Agrippina''s state of mind. The commoners are predicting that these schemes are devised by someone who holds the highest power. Hidden truths waiting to escape Her stomach twisted with distrust, and the familiar gnawing sensation deepened with each passing moment. She couldn''t shake the feeling that her husband''s death was no accident, but something darker, more deliberate. Accompanied by her vilici, two mancipia acting as her guards, and three female servis holding firebrands, Agrippina moved with purpose. The night air pressed against her skin as her thoughts turned more turbulent with each step. Tiberius''s praetorian guards had captured Piso, the governor of Syria, accused of poisoning Germanicus. Agrippina''s stomach churned. Poison? Why didn''t the healer know what ailed her husband back then in Syria? How could they not have noticed? Poison? Was it truly him? Could they be certain? What were they hiding? And what role had Tiberius played in this treachery? The nagging suspicion in her gut only deepened. Rumors pointed to Tiberius, but without proof, they were just smoke. Yet, if there was smoke, could there not be fire? She quickened her pace, her slaves close behind, and her mind spiraled with questions. She had confronted Claudius earlier, and his hesitant answers had only fueled her suspicions. Agrippina stopped abruptly, her servants halting behind her without question. A fleeting thought crossed her mind, but she dismissed it quickly¡ªthere was no time to dwell on it now. She had to confirm what she feared. Her body turned right, changing her course, her slaves following suit. They eyed each other, unaware of Agrippina''s thoughts growing more extreme. With a sudden change in direction, she marched toward the forum Romanum, her footsteps sharp and precise as she approached the looming Tullianum prison. The air grew colder as she neared the entrance, the stone walls absorbing the light from the torches, casting long shadows. A lone guard wearing his armatura militaris stepped forward, blocking her path. "Stop right there, woman," he growled, raising his hand. Agrippina''s gaze narrowed, her eyes flashing with cold fury. She stood unmoving, her will as firm as the stone beneath her feet. The vilici moved forward, his voice low and menacing. "Don''t you realize who you''re talking to?" The guard hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously. He raised a lamp to illuminate Agrippina''s face, his movements betraying his uncertainty. The guard''s eyes widened, and he gulped, realizing who stood before him. With a reluctant nod, the guard stepped aside, bowing slightly. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Proceed, matrona Agrippina." As Agrippina entered the prison, the darkness seemed to consume her every time she stepped down the stairs. Some rats scurried, disturbed by the sudden interruption of their party. The air thickened with the stench of decay and mold, the silence pressing in around her like a heavy blanket. Finally, they reached the cell where Piso was supposed to be held. But to her shock, it was empty. "Where is he?" Agrippina demanded, her voice sharp with anger. The guard shifted nervously. "I apologize, matrona," he muttered, his voice faltering. "The governor is being held in the palatium." "In the palatium?" Agrippina''s eyes narrowed, suspicion flooding her veins. "Why?" The guard hesitated, looking for the right words. "Orders from above," he whispered, his voice barely audible. A silence fell between them, thick with tension. Agrippina''s anger simmered just beneath the surface. "His trial is set for dawn," the guard added, as though offering some explanation, but it only deepened her unease. She turned away sharply, her heart burning with a desire for justice. Something about the rush, the secrecy of the trial¡ªthere was something they were hiding. With a final glance at the guard, Agrippina spoke coldly, "Thank you for telling me." As she left the prison, her thoughts burned with a growing sense of unease, a need for answers she could no longer ignore. ************************************ Meanwhile, outside, Plancina stood just outside the entrance of the Tullianum prison, her breath shallow, her heart hammering against her ribs. She had arrived earlier, hoping to gain access to Piso''s cell before anyone else could, relying on her influence and charm to persuade the guard. But the guard refused to budge, his expression unyielding. Her irritation was palpable as she recalled her attempt to seduce the lowly prison guard. Earlier... Plancina took a slow, deliberate step forward, adjusting her white stola and tossing her hair over her shoulder, letting it spill in soft waves. She needed to appear unreachable, like a woman who could demand anything and get it. A soft smile curved her lips as she approached the guard, her voice barely above a whisper. "Good evening," she said in her most seductive tone, stepping into the guard''s personal space, watching as his eyes flickered to her face. He looked uncomfortable but didn''t move, his hand instinctively resting on his gladius. "You''ve got a long night ahead, don''t you?" Plancina purred, her fingers brushing gently over the stone wall beside him, as though making the space between them intimate, close. "The prison is a lonely place, isn''t it?" He shifted on his feet, clearly uneasy, but he didn''t respond. She tilted her head, leaning closer, eyes lowering in a soft, almost playful gaze. "Perhaps a little company might make it more bearable," she added, letting her voice drop to a hushed, suggestive tone. The guard remained silent, his gaze sliding away from hers. Plancina felt a flicker of irritation twist in her chest. She was used to being the center of attention, used to men responding to her presence. But this one¡ªthis stubborn fool¡ªremained unmoved. She blinked, but she didn''t back away. "Come now," she coaxed, trying again, her voice a little more insistent, a little breathier. "You wouldn''t deny me the pleasure of entering, would you?" But the guard''s eyes didn''t waver, his face impassive. "I''m afraid I cannot let you pass, matrona Plancina. Orders from above." The words landed like ice, instantly dousing the warmth she had tried to coax into the air. Her chest tightened, her pulse quickened with frustration. She was not used to being denied, especially not by someone like him. Back to the present... Plancina''s fingers touched the vial of liquid secretly hidden inside her chest. But then she saw something that made her freeze. The unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed from the distance. Her stomach flipped. She looked around, trying to find the source of the footsteps. It was Agrippina. Her heart sank. The woman had arrived. The harlot! She felt her blood boil. Plancina moved into one of the deeper alcoves beside the prison, hoping to remain out of sight. There was a stone pillar nearby, weathered and tall, casting a long shadow in the dim moonlight. It was a perfect hiding place. She pressed herself against the cold stone, holding her breath as she waited, hidden in the darkness. The chill of the night seeped into her bones, but she hardly noticed. Her focus was entirely on the entrance to the prison, on the faint sound of footsteps, on the flickering torchlight. As Agrippina approached, Plancina ducked further into the shadows, pressing her body flat against the pillar, praying the harlot wouldn''t notice her. The sound of Agrippina''s heels echoed closer, closer still, and for a moment, she dared to peek from the corner of her eye. Agrippina, with her commanding presence, was so sure of herself, walking ahead of her slaves. Plancina felt like a mere shadow, insignificant, and yet she couldn''t tear her eyes away. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as Agrippina passed the very corner she was hiding behind. Too close. She stiffened, holding her breath, hoping to remain unseen. Her body tensed, every muscle frozen in place, as she listened to the faint sound of voices. "Stop right there, woman," she heard the guard growl. "...Don''t you realize who you''re talking to?" Plancina''s eyes narrowed at the voice of the servant, but her gaze fixed on the guard''s face. He looked uneasy, but he didn''t back down. She scoffed lightly. "Good luck persuading that stupid guard," she whispered quietly. But then to her amazement, the guard sidestepped and bowed slightly, allowing Agrippina entry. Plancina seethed, her anger simmering just below the surface. "How dare she!" she whispered. She remembered how the guard hadn''t even batted an eye when he recognized her! She felt the injustice! But she was unable to dwell on her hurt feelings as they started to move ahead. When she saw them enter and the guard trail behind, her body acted without thinking. She quietly followed Agrippina into the prison, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to know what was going on. As they descended into the prison, Plancina''s anxiety grew. She was in her last step on the stairs when she heard the chilling words that sent a shiver down her spine. "Where is he?" Agrippina demanded, sharp and furious. She''s here for Piso, isn''t she? Plancina''s stomach clenched. Her body seemed to vibrate with a mixture of jealousy, fear, and growing anger. Agrippina''s authority was unmistakable, and Plancina hated how helpless she felt. But there was no time to think about that now. As the conversation continued inside the prison, she took one last glance at the corridor of the prison where Agrippina and her party are talking. Before retreating back up the stairs¡ªinto the shadows, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn''t stay here much longer. Not now. She had to find Sejanus. She had to understand what was happening¡ªwhy hadn''t he told her anything? Why was Agrippina here? Her thoughts swirled as she made a decision. The need for answers, the anxiety gnawing at her, drove her to act. With one last furtive glance at the prison entrance, she turned and disappeared into the dark streets, moving quickly and quietly, her mind consumed with both fear and fury. She had to find Sejanus. She needed answers. She had to understand¡ªwhy hadn''t he told her? Why was she always the last to know? Was he planning to leave her behind? She had to make sure she wasn''t the one being left behind. ************************************ INDEX: Tiber river - a river that flows all throught Rome vilici - slaves that are skilled, know to be intelligent like butlers they oversee their master''s family estate or domus mancipia - slaves that do the hardwork usually with big strong bodies servi - household slaves known with their beauty forum Romanum - the main square of ancient Rome Tullianum prison - a prison in ancient Rome. Darkness Closed In The night had stretched on, slipping into vigilia tertia, and the weight of the quiet hour seemed to press down even more heavily on Plancina. Her steps echoed through the empty streets, the cold air biting at her skin. She was losing control, and with each passing moment, the unease in her chest only deepened. Her gaze flickered to the shadows, every movement sending a jolt of panic through her. She was waiting for Sejanus. Where is he? She thought, biting her lip in frustration. She wrapped her arms around herself, her fingers trembling despite her best attempts to remain composed. An hour had passed since the messenger departed. Her mind, frantic with worry, couldn''t quiet the question that continued to swirl. Why my husband is not in the Tullianum prison? But the more she pondered, the more she realized¡ªshe was actually relieved that he wasn''t there. Had Piso been there when Agrippina arrived, the entire scheme might have unraveled. Agrippina, ever sharp, could have pried the truth from him¡ªhow Tiberius had ordered Germanicus''s death in Syria. Plancina knew the truth. She had witnessed the whispered orders. But her husband hadn''t done anything except start conflict with the general. What he didn''t know was that his wife had been positioned as the backup plan, ready to step in if he failed to deliver. It was a secret she shared only with Sejanus¡ªand one she kept hidden from her husband. Piso, cautious to a fault, made Plancina bored, so she decided to act on her own. But I''ve done a marvelous job, she thought, pride swelling within her despite the growing peril of the situation. The results had been impressive. She silently praised her own efforts. But there were details left out¡ªwhy was her husband in a different prison? She could have completed the task already if not for that! Now she was back to being a nervous wreck. But the thought of her husband speaking to Agrippina, revealing the chain of events, was more than she could bear. It could implicate her¡ªthe wife of a criminal. No. She would rather see Piso die unjustly, his death meaningless, than risk him confessing the truth. Let the world believe he was guilty of whatever the Senate and the whispers claimed¡ªPlancina would be the wife of the falsely accused. A martyr. Her fingers tightened around the vial of poison. Agrippina¡­ that scheming widow. Her thoughts raced. She''s getting too close. Too inquisitive. Agrippina had gone to the prison, likely seeking to dig for information. What if she uncovers the truth? What if Piso, in his panic, blurts something he shouldn''t? She couldn''t¡ªwouldn''t¡ªallow that to happen. That''s why Plancina needed to meet Sejanus now! It was critical¡ªbefore it was too late! Her thoughts, clouded by anxiety and urgency, were interrupted when she finally saw him. Sejanus emerged from the shadows, his dark cloak billowing over his tunica militaris like a phantom. His expression was unreadable as always, but something about the way he approached her made her stomach twist. There was no time for pleasantries now. "Where have you been?" Plancina snapped before she could stop herself, her voice sharp with frustration. Sejanus raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed. "Really?" he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. "It''s the dead of night, and you send for me with a messenger?" He shrugged off his cape with a fluid motion, never breaking eye contact with her. "We''ve already done this inside your domus and even in your marital bed, after my soldiers took your husband, and now you want to do it again?" Sejanus smirked. "Go on, strip then..." he said suddenly, his tone commanding. "I didn''t come for this!" Plancina blurted, her voice tight with anxiety. Her words seemed to amuse him, but he didn''t press the issue. The air between them thickened with tension as she took another step toward him, her face flushed, her breath quickening with desperation. "I''ve been waiting here for over an hour!" she nearly shouted, her words spilling out in a frantic mix of anger and fear. "Why isn''t Piso in the Tullianum? Why is he in the palatium? Why didn''t you tell me?" Plancina''s voice rose, her eyes wide with panic. But Sejanus''s gaze hardened, his expression unyielding. "Agrippina went to see him there," she continued in a frantic rush. "She''s looking for my husband! What if she discovers the truth?" Her voice cracked with desperation, hysteria creeping into her tone. "That harlot! She must have sniffed something out! Why else would she visit the prison to meet with Piso? She might be heading to the palatium right now! They might let her in. They can''t talk to each other!" Her voice cracked, the tension weighing her down. "My husband might reveal everything about Tiberius¡­ about the truth! He cannot live!" Before she could speak further, Sejanus''s hand shot out, clamping over her mouth, silencing her. She froze, eyes wide with a mix of shock and fury, but Sejanus''s grip was firm. His voice, cold and low, cut through her panic. "Have you lost your mind? Watch your mouth!" His eyes narrowed, annoyance clear in every word as he looked around. He didn''t care about how desperate she was to speak; he only cared about silencing her. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. In one swift motion, he pulled her into a shadowed corner, away from the prying eyes of the streets. Plancina''s heart raced, but she barely registered it. "She could uncover what really happened," she said, trying to regain control of her voice, which now hardened with mounting anxiety. "If she does, it''s all over." Sejanus stood silent for a moment, his face unreadable. She was persistent, but now there was something else¡ªpanic. The irritation he''d felt earlier in the evening began to surface again, but he buried it beneath the surface. She''s losing her grip. That''s what this is about. He reminded himself that Plancina was far too valuable, even if her relentless paranoia made her unbearable at times. Should he just kill her? Disguise it as an accident? he thought. No, I still need her. She could see the growing irritation in his eyes, but it was tempered with something deeper, a cold calculation that reminded her just how dangerous he truly was. "Agrippina won''t get anywhere," he finally said, his voice measured and cold. "She''s playing a game, but she doesn''t have all the pieces." He leaned closer, his gaze locking onto hers. "Besides, Agrippina isn''t the issue here." Plancina barely heard him. Her mind was filled with visions of Agrippina at the prison, of Piso possibly confessing everything¡ªof the disastrous consequences. "You need to stop her!" she hissed, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear. "Agrippina can''t find him. If she gets to him, everything we''ve worked for will crumble! We can''t let her uncover the truth." Sejanus''s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. Her desperation grated on him, making the air between them feel suffocating. "I''m well aware of the stakes, Plancina," he said, his voice sharpening. "But losing your composure won''t help. You need to trust me¡ªjust once." He exhaled sharply, his eyes cutting through her as her hands clenched into fists. I already have my trusted men guarding the prison. No one will get in or out without my say. Yes, that is power, Sejanus thought, a brief sense of pride swelling within him. He turned his attention back to Plancina. She was beyond reason now, "You don''t understand!" she insisted, her voice raw, trembling with fear of everything slipping away. "This has to be done tonight! Piso cannot survive. You need to make sure he''s silenced. Before Agrippina or anyone else finds out. I need you to act!" Her mind spun with panic. Sejanus''s lips tightened into a thin line as his mind processed the urgency. She was desperate, losing control, but that didn''t change the fact that this had to be done. For a moment, he stood still, weighing her words. Agrippina at the Tullianum¡ªwhat if she was already snooping around? What if she already knew too much? His eyes flickered with the faintest trace of doubt but quickly suppressed it. Plancina''s hand trembled as she reached into her stola and pulled out a small vial. The liquid inside gleamed faintly in the dim light, an innocuous glass container¡ªyet it held the power to destroy everything. Without a word, she thrust it into Sejanus''s hand. He took it, his fingers brushing hers briefly, his gaze sharp. The cold liquid shimmered inside the vial¡ªpoison. He had already orchestrated Germanicus''s death, but, now silencing Piso was the final piece they needed. No one could discover the truth. The world could believe the governor was guilty of whatever they said he was. But Piso had to be gone¡ªfor good. "You''re far too hasty, Plancina," Sejanus murmured, his voice carrying an icy calm. "But... for the sake of keeping things in order, I''ll handle it." The finality of his words seemed to pull the tension from her shoulders, and she exhaled with relief. She was desperate, but now the plan would unfold. "If Agrippina figures it out..." she started, her voice trailing off with unease. "Trust me," Sejanus interrupted, his tone cold and unwavering. "I''ve got this." With one final glance, she nodded, her mind still swirling with the weight of the decision. She disappeared into the shadows of the night. He remained still, watching her retreat, his thoughts heavy. What if Agrippina was already at the palatium? What if she had uncovered more than he realized? After a moment, he turned, slipping into the night, the vial of poison gripped tightly in his hand. Piso''s fate was sealed. No one would ever learn the truth¡ªof that, he was certain. *************************** The cold air pricked at Agrippina''s skin as she stood before the towering gates of the palatium, under the still dark sky. Her black cloak swelled around her. Her presence was dignified yet filled with a quiet urgency. The soldiers standing guard did not acknowledge her, but she could feel their watchful, apprehensive gaze upon her. Behind her, her slaves waited: two burly manciapa with crossed arms, scanning the area with a blend of caution and loyalty, and three female servis, quietly lingering behind her, accompanied by the lone vilici. Agrippina''s patience had worn thin, drained by the long journey and the gnawing uncertainty that gnawed at her. "Do you not recognize who I am?" she demanded, her voice sharp but controlled. The guards exchanged nervous glances, yet remained silent. Their impassive silence sparked a fire within her. Stepping forward, her heels clicked sharply on the cobblestones. "Where is Tiberius?" she asked, her gaze unwavering. "My husband''s uncle. Where is he?" She emphasized her relationship to the emperor. The guards remained stoic, their gazes never wavering, but they remained mute. Agrippina''s jaw tightened, and her hands curled into fists. Without turning her back, she spoke to her servants. "Summon Antonia and send for Marcus." As she waited, her gaze lingered on the guards, and the stillness of the moment settled over her, unsettling her further. A knot began to form in her stomach, a sensation she couldn''t shake. Footsteps, confident and sure, suddenly echoed from behind her. Thinking it was her father¡ªMarcus, Agrippina turned. But the steps were too early. As she glanced back, she saw him, Tiberius''s loyal guard¡ªstriding toward the entrance of the palatium, walking with the air of someone who owned it. Their eyes locked, and an almost palpable shift filled the air. Agrippina''s eyes narrowed as she realized he wasn''t stopping and was instead heading toward her. Moving swiftly, she blocked his path, halting Sejanus in his tracks. Her posture was confident, yet it concealed a fury just beneath the surface. Sejanus stopped abruptly, his face unreadable, though his eyes locked onto hers with a chilling calm. For a moment, neither spoke. "You dare meet my gaze?" she demanded, her voice slicing through the tension. "Who do you think you are?" Sejanus barely reacted, his tone flat and dismissive. "Last time I checked, you''re not my master." What???? The audacity of him¡ªthis man who served Tiberius¡ªdared to speak to her in such a manner? her hazel eyes widening. Her mouth opened and closed unable to come up with words. Agrippina''s chest tightened, she''s so flabbergasted that it makes her unable to say anything, her fatigue catching up on her. The silence stretched between them. Sejanus spoke, "If you''ll excuse me matrona, I have somewhere I have to be," then he bowed as if mocking her. "And oh, you do be careful now on your way back. You wouldn''t know what happens in the dark." "What?" her eyes narrowed, her mind racing with the implication of his words. You wouldn''t know what happens in the dark, he said. Was that a threat? A warning? Or simply a cruel taunt? Then he shrugged nonchalantly, as if she were of no consequence. With a swift turn, he walked past her without sparing a second glance, leaving Agrippina seething. She watched as he disappeared into the shadows, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the hallway. The air was heavy with unspoken menace. Agrippina''s instincts screamed that she was missing something - something crucial. An ominous feeling clawed at her. Time seemed to drag on, stretching far too long. Finally, Antonia and Marcus arrived, their stern faces signaling their outrage with the unbelievable situation. "What is this?" Antonia asked, looking between the guards and Agrippina. "They won''t let me pass," Agrippina replied tersely. "How dare you stop her?" Antonia scolded the guards, her voice laced with authority. "And me? Will you try to stop me as well?" The guards attempted to explain themselves, but Antonia, backed by her own praetorian guards, snapped, "Take these fools away, who failed to recognize their master!" The guards were promptly removed. As they walked toward the prison, Agrippina''s mind raced with thoughts of the past¡ªof the whispered rumors surrounding Germanicus''s death, of the injustice that had spread through her life like a stain. A tightness gripped her chest as they neared the prison. As they continued their walk, Agrippina turned to her mother-in-law. "How are the children?" she asked again, hoping to focus on something else to ease the growing tension. Antonia answered gently reaching her hand while they are walking, "They are well. Drusus Caesar keeps the household lively, and Julia is with her nurse." Yet, the worry gnawed at Agrippina once more, and before she could stop herself, she whispered, "I shouldn''t have come here. They are my children. I should be with them." Antonia''s hand now briefly rested on her shoulder. "You''re here for answers. We will make sure they are held accountable." They continued their way until they reached Piso''s cell. But what they found inside was beyond anything they had expected. The governor''s lifeless body lay cold on the floor, foam at his mouth¡ªhis life snuffed out before Agrippina could confront him. The realization struck her like a physical blow. Too late. She was too late. Marcus bent over the body, his face hardening as he examined the scene. "Poison," he muttered, his voice thick with revulsion. "He''s been silenced." Agrippina stood frozen in the doorway, her mind whirling. Who did this? Who? The questions tore at her, but none could answer the most pressing one: Who killed Piso? And in the back of her mind, Sejanus''s words echoed ominously, You wouldn''t know what happens in the dark. It leaves a cold, uneasy feeling in her chest. *************************** INDEX: vigilia tertia - 1am-3am Caligulas Monochrome Reverie The Year is 23 AD August 17 two weeks before Caligula''s 12 Birthdate Caligula, a young boy of eleven, closed his eyes as he slept, his chest rising and falling in a measured rhythm... And then, he dreamed.. In this state of unreality, he found himself in a plain, gray world. Monochromatic. It''s been his world as far as he can remember, even in reality¡ªafter waking up from an intense fever years ago. He remembered bawling his eyes out, trying to shake it off in his eyes. It''s uncomfortable. But he learned to accept it as his new reality¡ªslowly and overtime. He learned to adapt. Because he realized that, he was powerless to fight such an enigma. It''s a force of nature. And even if he could fight it, he wouldn''t know how. He''s only a kid. Incapable of anything. Caligula closed his eyes and readied himself for the intrusion of the bright light coming from the sun, a habit he developed to protect his defective vision. As he shut his eyes, his other senses seemed to be heightened. The wind blows. It''s a familiar sensation.. he can almost feel the aestas heat gently caressing his skin, carrying the scent of dry earth into his nose. And, somehow, someway, he knew that it was morning. Hora secunda before solis ortus... He opened his eyes, squinting at the scene before him. Caligula expected the brilliance of the sun to assault his eyes but...contrary to what he believed...everything seemed so.. Clear? At this place, he could see the outlines of trees and hills nearby. He could see them so vividly, albeit there was no color. Every line and shape in this world is razor sharp. But that is all. He stared in wonder. Caligula, like a person who saw the beauty of the world for the first time, although it''s still in black and white¡ªhe moved his head side by side, up and down. Drinking in every detail of his environment. The sun''s brightness doesn''t even affect his eyesight. For the first time in a while, he felt so free.. He could feel his heart beating in his chest out of excitement. There was no other person there but him...but he wished that there is.. And if this someone were to tell him that this is reality, and not a fantasy, then he would believe it in a heartbeat. The world around him felt surreal. Every sensation felt amplified¡ªthat he stayed like that for a while, seemingly entranced by everything he saw... *crunch* *crunch* He instinctively looked back, feeling annoyed, a contrast to what he wished earlier. A figure was slowly coming towards him, moving at a steady, confident pace, stepping on the dry leaves that designed the ground¡ªas though the world itself acknowledged the man''s right to be there. Disrupting his quiet world. Out of habit, his eyes trained to where the face is. It was blank¡ªlike always. Blurry. Caligula breathed in deeply. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Then his vision shifted. He felt it, rather than saw, suddenly he found himself standing under a very wide and tall tree. A high tree with thick branches and dense leaves... *crunch* *crunch* The man was still moving closer and closer. Not reacting to the fact that the scene surrounding Caligula has changed. He felt something inside himself¡ªa spark¡ªa bit of intrigue about the man. While waiting for the man, Caligula craned his neck and studied the tree above him, accepting it as it is. He did not question himself or anything. As he tilted his head up the tree, he tried to find gaps in the boughs and lush foliage to see the clouds¡ªbut there was none. Suddenly a question arose... ''What am I doing there?'' He paused. ............ "I can''t seem to remember", he whispered. Feeling lost at why he couldn''t remember, he focused his attention back on the man that was still approaching. He studied his gait some more. The figure''s build was unmistakably a soldier¡ªa body built from his years on the battlefield. And the armor he is wearing¡ªa lorica hamata¡ª glints under the sunlight. His hair gently swaying in the warm wind. Even though he is missing a gladius and a galea, his stride and his demeanor screamed with all the regalia of a Roman general. He can see the movement of every muscle in his legs. ............ Caligula didn''t know how he knew. The information in his brain seems to supply the words in his head. He did not question it. It''s just what it is. ............ His heart started to hurt, he felt like he had missed this person all his life... although he couldn''t recognize him. His dream doesn''t make an iota of sense. The boy tried hard to think and to remember¡ªwho is this man? He looked at the blank face again. Empty. It was very scary. There seems to be a cloud to his eyes that blocks seeing people''s faces. It''s like his brain clammed up, it''s not functioning. Anxiety rose within him¡ªlike how the first time this happened. He remembered it as if it was just yesterday. A phenomenon happening like this is not something you can shake off so easily. One day, after the fever, he woke up and was unable to see the world''s color. And when someone approached him like this, a man, he shook with terror¡ªhe had no face. His vision stayed like that until now. That Caligula still feels lost sometimes. He felt a sudden mix of emotions blanketing his whole being. His hands started to sweat, his breath hitching. The presence of that man coming near him.. he could feel it. Caligula felt himself tensing up when the man finally stopped in front of him. And for a while no one spoke, and no one moved. As if they are both measuring each other, which is absurd. He was just a kid. And the man? He can tell he is older.. mid-thirties maybe? He could feel that the man was eyeing him, even though he couldn''t see faces¡ªhe could still sense their aura and study their expressions with their body language. Then the man decided to break the long silence and the boy''s line of thoughts¡ªthe man spoke. "Filius meus iuvenis..." Caligula''s eyes closed involuntarily at the voice he remembered so well. Then his tears fell like rain. How could he forget? It was his father, Germanicus.. His father reached out his hand to Caligula. He felt a warm, kind smile, even without seeing it. Just his presence alone makes him feel like he is normal. He started to cry loudly. "How could I ever forget?" he wailed. How can he? A burst of anger rose within him, but it quickly gave way to grief. "Father!" The boy looked at the blank face¡ªliterally blank, like a smooth, empty mask. But he knew! He knew it was his father! But he can''t remember his face now! His eyes, his nose! He felt robbed! Caligula stretched out his own small hands, trying hard to grasp his father''s. "Father," he whispered, but his voice felt stuck, like it was caught in his throat. For a brief moment, everything felt real! The gentle sound of his father''s voice and the feeling of comfort. But then, as quickly as he had appeared, Germanicus body began to fade away. Taking with him the peaceful scenery that they were in. Dizziness accompanied the shift. A disparity to the earlier serene atmosphere of the dream, which now seemed like a distant memory. The stark contrast between the peaceful scenery and the violent setting of Germanicus slow disappearance was jarring. Caligula''s mind struggled to reconcile the two, leaving him feeling disoriented and disconnected. The ground suddenly felt soft and wet to his feet like quicksand. A sky filled with turbulent clouds and crows. His eyes filled with tears as he cried, "Father!" He tried to run after him, but his legs grew weak, unable to lift it up that he fell to the now sticky ground. Looking up, he saw his father''s feet above the wet ground like he was flying. He caught a final glimpse of Germanicus''s warm gestures. "You need to wake up, son. "You''ve been asleep for too long," his father said softly."Take care of your mother and siblings. Tell your mother I love her." He tried to speak, but his voice remained silent. When his father''s hand brushed his shoulder, a sudden chill ran through him. He looked down and saw, to his horror, a severed, bloody arm holding a sword resting on his shoulder. A rapid sequence of memories rushed over his brain, his journey to Vetera castrum¡ªhim singing in front of the campfire¡ªthe soldiers calling him ''Caligula''¡ªhim learning the sword with his small body¡ªthe procession of the wounded soldiers¡ªthe severed arm falling from the big wagon¡ªhim getting spooked and scared¡ªcrying¡ªhis father lifting him up¡ªthe fever that night¡ªan unknown man clamping down his mouth while he is sick¡ªshowing him the dagger that shines in the moonlight¡ªthat man hurting him¡ªhis father suddenly waking him up¡ªgoing to Syria¡ªGermanicus death¡ªhis brother Drusus slapping him¡ªthen another man wanting to hurt Caligula again..... "Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!" he clawed his face, it was too much for him to bear. A wave of fear and intense grief washed over him.... "Hnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!" With a gasp, Caligula woke up, sitting upright in the dark room, his heart pounding fast. He can feel that he is crying, and a yell is caught in his throat. Caligula tried to make sense of where he was.. but his eyes were met with the familiar grayness of his world. He squinted his eyes.. it was dark. With only the brightness of the moon shining through the open window. And for a while he stayed like that until his heart started to slowly beat normally. The dream he had... he could feel that it was...extraordinary.. he thought... But some parts he can''t remember. The ache in his chest was palpable, as if the dream had reopened a wound that had scarred him over. As he sat there, still trying to normalize his breath, he became aware of the silence around him. The stillness was oppressive, and he felt a sudden urge to move, to do something to shatter the quiet. His attention was caught by a faint crashing sound coming from the triclinium. He sat up, his ears perked up, and listened intently. The sound came again, louder this time, followed by a muffled sob. Caligula''s curiosity got the better of him, and he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He padded softly out of his cubiculum, his eyes already used to the darkness.. it''s fixed on the doorway leading to the triclinium. As he entered the room, he recognized Agrippina, his mother. Her back to him, standing by the table¡ªshe was surrounded by shattered ceramic fragments, and a small, delicate vase lay broken on the floor. The room was lit with beeswax candles swaying in the gentle breeze of the night. Agrippina''s shoulders shook with each sob. And Caligula could sense her devastation. He watched, frozen, as his mother''s hands trembled, and she picked up another small vase. With a swift, almost violent motion, she hurled it onto the marbled floor. Shattering it into a hundred pieces. The sound echoed through the room, and he felt a pang of sadness. This wasn''t the first time he''d witnessed his mother''s outbursts. The breaking of delicate objects had become a regular occurrence, a manifestation of her grief and frustration. He and his siblings had grown accustomed to the sound of shattering ceramics, but it still unsettled him. Caligula stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Agrippina''s pain was evident, and he felt helpless in the face of her sorrow. Slowly, he backed away, not wanting to intrude on her private moment of grief. Without making a sound, he retreated to his cubiculum. Leaving his mother to her tears and shattered fragments. He lay down on his bed, his mind reeling from the events of the dream and his mother''s meltdown. The lingering emotions all swirled together, leaving him feeling lost and uncertain. ************************* INDEX: (lets refresh those latins!) Aestas - Summer Hora Secunda - Second Hour ( ancient Roman time-keeping) 7am-8am Solis Ortus - Sunrise lorica hamata - a type of chain mail armor gladius - sword galea - helmet with horsehair crest Filius meus iuvenis - my young son cubiculum - room (singular) cubiculi - rooms (plural) triclinium - dining area with triclinia triclinia - a type of U shape couch The Gods in the Scrolls One week after the dream... Caligula sat in the tutor''s chambers, located within his grandmother Antonia''s villa urbana, where they had been residing since his father''s death. He glanced around the airy space. The room carried the scent of aged papyrus and hardened wax tablets, making it feel smaller than it was¡ªalmost confining. And yet, it was a mess. Stacks of scrolls and tablets were scattered everywhere. It was said that this room held the wealth of classical Roman knowledge, but to pile it all up as if it were nothing more than discarded clothing? Caligula couldn''t help but show a hint of distaste in his eyes. ........... For the first time in years, he could express his emotions again. Was it because of that dream¡ªwhen his father telling him to wake up? The eleven year old boy didn''t know. It had been too long. But he remembered being aware of his surroundings, of what was happening, and it felt like as if his soul had been a mere spectator, trapped within his own body. He had no control, and everything was shrouded in haze. As if his mind had hidden it away from him. But now, one week after the dream, he felt himself returning to normal. He is quick to adjust to the changes. Although, how do you even define being normal when he''s been like this as far as he can remember? Still, something has been restored though. He just felt it. The need to speak. The feelings. They had all come rushing back at once. At first, he couldn''t control it. After waking from that dream and seeing his mother''s back, smashing ceramics while sobbing, he had locked himself in his cubiculum and also wept for a long time. It was as if a dam had burst inside him. He thought it would pass. After all, his vision remained the same¡ªgray. So, he chose to ignore it. And so, Caligula continued with his daily life. Every day he tried to make sense of his fragmented memories and how to familiarize himself to his new reality. And one morning while they are having their ientaculum, he asked Antonia to pass him the ligula, he can suddenly feel that everyone are utterly shocked¡ªespecially his grandmother, who he thinks broke into tears as she handed it to him, adding the culter as well. She had even pulled him into a tight embrace, whispering thanks to Jupiter. Although he can''t see their faces, he can tell who is who based on their auras. And he can tell that his siblings and even Antonia had immediately realized¡ªhis mind had returned. It was like waking up from a dream, one that had lasted ever since that time in Vetera castrum. Caligula heard the rustle of scrolls, pulling him back to reality. His gaze flickered toward the old man¡ªtheir tutor. His eyes habitually sought the man''s face. Right. Still faceless. It still unsettled him. Even though he had regained control over his emotions and thoughts, his expression remained unchanged¡ªa vacant, hollow look still painted across his features. But his eyes¡­ his eyes now held a glimmer, a light that had been absent before. I think my facial muscles have gone stiff from years of not using them, he thought. How long has it been? Since I was four or five? Or was it seven? He gave up trying to recall the past. Caligula forced himself to focus on the lesson, turning his attention to the old man who stood proudly before them. It was said that their tutor was a wise and learned man, handpicked by his grandmother herself. I don''t know how to feel about that, he thought, once again glancing around at the disorganized state of the room. Beside him sat one of his younger sisters, it''s Julia Agrippina the Younger¡ªor simply Julia. She was almost seven years old, and November would mark the beginning of her formal education. Due to Caligula''s prolonged illness and the chaos surrounding their father''s death, he had fallen behind in his studies. Typically, a Roman boy would begin his education at the age of seven, but their family had been in mourning for years. Their long journey from Syria to Rome had taken months. As a result, he was only now beginning his formal education¡ªalongside his younger sister, Julia. It had been a month since their lessons had started. She sat with every bit of poise expected of an imperial daughter, her posture perfect, he can feel that her attention is unwavering¡ªconcentrating like a good student. He looked at her face. Still blurry. He bit his lips. Still feeling frustrated with his inability to discern his sister''s face. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The two of them were receiving instruction in the classical Roman education. "For nobles," the tutor began, his voice stern but measured, "education is the key to maintaining power and influence..." He felt the old man swept his gaze over his two pupils, ensuring he had their full attention. His toga swayed with every movement. "I will guide you through the wonders of Roman literature, the rhythms of Greek music, and the timeless tales of fabulae." Caligula tried to listen intently. But his attention was drawn to the open scroll in front of him. It bore an illustration of the Roman gods¡ªintricate drawings with delicate shading that instantly captivated him. He couldn''t look away. The gods and goddesses, their sacred tales, the myths that explained the world and how it came to be¡­ Though he admired the stories of Jupiter''s thunderbolts and Mars'' bravery in battle, it wasn''t the legends that fascinated him most. It was what he could see. His fingers twitched. Caligula reached for the scroll¡ªhe couldn''t help himself. It was an irresistible impulse. He traced the etched lines, the embossed patterns, feeling the rough texture of the papyrus beneath his fingertips. The scent of ink, mingled with the sweet fragrance of the aged scroll, filled his nostrils. As he explored the illustration, something strange happened. Faces, usually a blur to him, emerged with clarity. The expressions of Jupiter and Mars were rendered with lifelike precision. Who drew this? he wondered. It felt alive in his vision. A sharp, reprimanding voice snapped him back to reality. "Caligula, pay attention! You must learn to recite the great works of Cicero and Caesar." Caligula nodded, feeling guilty for getting caught not listening. He tried to focus on the lesson. But his eyes kept drifting back to the scroll¡ªthe world of historiae contained within its pages. I don''t want to recite anything, though¡­ it''s boring, he thought. A pang of jealousy struck him. His brothers and even the commoners seemed to have more freedom, more choices than he did. He knew that, as a member of the imperial family, he was expected to excel in all areas. His brothers had already learned the basics and had moved on to a different tutor, receiving advanced education and training in martial arts. Meanwhile, commoners received a more practical education¡ªfocused on trade skills and basic literacy. What''s the point of all this, anyway? he wondered. The emperor''s son is already the appointed heir, replacing our father. Even if that weren''t the case, my older brothers would be next in line. His younger sisters¡ªhe could understand why they needed this. Their education would shape their futures when they married into one of the great gentes... But Caligula? He couldn''t help but question why he had to learn all this. He had no reason to. Caligula was more interested in learning a trade like the commoners, in living a simpler life, free from the weight of imperial expectations. It will only tie you down¡­ just like Mother''s obsession with politics now. A bitter taste lingered in his mouth. As the tutor continued speaking, Caligula''s gaze remained fixated on the scroll. He had already memorized nearly every detail of the images. The intricate depictions of the gods provided a rare escape from the monochromatic world his achromatopsia confined him to. The vibrant hues others took for granted were lost to him; he perceived only shades of gray. Yet the detailed artistry of the drawings allowed his imagination to fill in the colors he couldn''t see¡ªthe faces he missed. It gave him a semblance of the clarity others experienced effortlessly. ........... The tutor, noticing Caligula''s distraction yet again, narrowed his eyes. He already knew of the boy''s illness, though he didn''t know the extent of it. Not that he believed in it at all. For one, the boy didn''t look sick or cursed. In fact, he looked perfectly normal and healthy¡ªsave for that expressionless face he had worn for the past month. And frankly, the tutor found himself irritated by the boy''s absentminded behavior in every lesson. But now, Caligula seemed¡­ different. There was intelligence in his gaze. Still, the tutor wasn''t convinced. This was just attention-seeking behavior. And he had to put a stop to it. The old man tapped his fingers against his toga, considering his approach. After all, the boy''s status was still higher than his own. ........... Yet, as he opened his mouth to reprimand Caligula, he hesitated. He understood, to some extent, why the child acted this way. Suddenly deprived of his mother''s care and attention¡­ abruptly thrown to the wolves to fend for himself¡­ Theodore¡ªthe tutor¡ªthought back to the boy''s mother. He was privy to the hushed whispers about Agrippina. Once a paragon of virtue and maternal devotion¡­ Now, a woman consumed by ambition. She would stop at nothing to secure her children''s claim to the throne¡ªno matter the cost to their well-being. Her relentless pursuit of power had become a subject of gossip, whispered in the halls of Rome. Many believed she was more concerned with advancing her own interests than with nurturing her children. The tutor, for one, found her behavior unbecoming of a woman. A woman''s place was beside her children, not entangled in the ruthless game of politics. And now? Her children were acting lazy. His jaw tightened as he strode toward Caligula, whose attention was still elsewhere. No! Not in his class! He had a reputation to uphold! He had only agreed to this position because he owed Antonia¡ªCaligula''s grandmother. But enough was enough! The old man stopped in front of Caligula''s table. His gaze shifted downward, toward the object that had completely captured the boy''s attention. A scroll with drawings. Theodore''s gaze lingered on it for a moment before he scoffed. "I see the images have captured your interest," he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "These depictions of Jupiter and Mars are indeed captivating. More so than my lessons, it seems?" Caligula didn''t like the tutor''s tone. His fingers curled into a fist as he shot a glance at Julia. She had stopped writing, her small hands frozen over her papyrus. He can feel that her eyes went wide¡ªshe''s worried. The room felt colder. Caligula''s grip tightened around the scroll in front of him. He could feel the brittle edges pressing against his palms. Then, he met the tutor''s gaze. Or at least tried to. Pretending to see his face¡ªand look him in the eye. Defiant. Now or never. He thought. "I find the stories behind these images more captivating than mere recitations," he said. The words felt strange on his tongue. Foreign. Like they didn''t belong to him. Theodore exhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Harumph." He cleared his throat, then turned to Julia. "¡­Julia, continue with the declension of bellum." Julia hesitated before quietly reciting the Latin words. But Theodore wasn''t listening. His frustration festered, growing with every syllable she uttered. His glare flicked back to Caligula. "It seems your mother has allowed you to become someone with loose moral fiber," he sneered, his voice rising. Caligula remained still. Theodore leaned in slightly, eyes glinting with something almost cruel. "Your mother," he continued, "who has all but forgotten she has children¡­ but she was quite vocal in her suspicions of foul play, wasn''t she?" He tilted his head mockingly. "Accusing men of higher standing than herself¡ªa dangerous game, indeed." The words had barely left his mouth when¡ª *BANG!* The chamber doors burst open, slamming against the walls with a deafening thud. Agrippina, their mother, strode into the room, a vision of unshakable authority. ******************************** INDEX: villa urbana - A grand, luxurious country estate ientaculum - Breakfast or morning meal ligula - spoon culter - knife Vetera castrum - military camp in chapter 2 (little boots) fabulae - Mythical stories or legends, in this case, about the Roman gods Cicero and Caesar - Famous Roman statesmen and writers whose works and legacy would still have been widely studied and admired in ancient Rome historae - Historical accounts or stories gentes - Noble families or clans achromatopsia - A rare genetic disorder that affects Caligula''s vision, causing him to see the world in shades of gray declension - A grammatical term referring to the changing forms of Latin words bellum - War or conflict The Boy Who Stumbled Vipsania Julia Agrippina. Regal. Commanding. A colossus. Sounds of her footsteps echoing at the mosaic floor. The air itself seemed to crackle around her as she stopped and stood just a few steps away from the doorway. The scent of her expensive perfume, sharp and floral¡ªfilling the tutor''s chamber. Her expression was a carefully crafted mask of fury. Agrippina''s presence overwhelmed the room in an instant, as she surveyed the state of the room''s disarray. Her face gradually twisted in displeasure. Julia sprang up from her seat first. "Mother!" She rushed towards her mother without hesitation, grasping the hem of her white palla, which covered her black stola, and hid behind Agrippina. Caligula followed suit. His steps were slower, more unsure¡ªwhile his eyes searched for his mother''s face. He can only make out her almost white hair that seems to shine from the brightness of the morning sun that''s coming from the wide open window. Caligula knew she was blond. But he hasn''t seen any colors for awhile now so it looks white to him.. He squints his eyes, he was staying at the darker corner of the area and the light suddenly assaulted his vision as he walk towards his mother. Making it hard for him to see even more. Her face looked blurry. He blinked once, twice. Still the same. I already forgot how she looks like¡­ A lump formed in his throat. He wanted to cry. But he wouldn''t. Agrippina''s gaze swept over her children, lingering on Caligula for the briefest moment before turning to the tutor, remembering about her discussion with her mother in law about her son. "I trust the lessons are progressing well," she said glancing at the tutor. Her tone was neutral. Deceptively so. Julia stiffened and hides herself more behind her mother. This is the first time Theodore met Agrippina in the whole month that he was teaching her children. Only Antonia had spoken to him, and she always listened to what he had to say¡ªmaking him feel overly confident. Who is Antonia? She was the niece of the Emperor Augustus! Her status is more on the upper levels. Should I give her a piece of my mind while I''m at it? he arrogantly contemplated. Then, Theodore, the tutor, bowed slightly, resolving to deliver a carefully worded report. He thought, this is my golden opportunity! "They are, madam. Though young Caligula''s attention seems¡­ divided." He threw a glanced at the opened scroll on the boy''s table, gesturing to the boy''s mother of what he had done, then casually peering at the infamous woman. But Agrippina''s eyes narrowed. For a moment, the silence stretched thin. The tutor, unable to follow through with his initial plan, did not take into account the woman''s aura. It''s too... imposing. His breathing hitched. He suddenly felt so small under her scrutiny. Then¡ªshe spoke. Her tone sharp. "Children often stray in their learning. Make sure he learns only what he must¡ªand nothing more." A flicker of something crossed the tutor''s face. She heard me. A bead of sweat traced his temple. He bowed lower, nodding quickly, suddenly robbed of words. But Agrippina had already dismissed him like his opinion did not matter. Her attention returned to her children. "Caligula. Julia." Her voice softened¡ªjust slightly. "We have matters of greater importance to attend to." Then she turned back to Theodore. Her gaze full of thorns once more. "The people of Rome are eager to see the children of Germanicus. They remember his valor. His loyalty. And they yearn for a return to the virtues he embodied." Her chin lifted, her presence suffocating. "They will see his children." A pause. "And they will remember." And with that¡ªshe turned. She did not wait for a reply. She did not acknowledge the tutor''s nervous bow. She simply exited the room, her steps purposeful, her presence lingering like the echo of thunder after a storm. Her children followed. As they should. Leaving the tutor speechless and feeling embarrassed... The household of Antonia bustled with frantic energy as Agrippina prepared for the public procession. Servants scurried back and forth, adjusting garments, tightening sashes, ensuring every detail was flawless. Caligula stood beside his brothers, Nero Caesar and Drusus Caesar, clad in a finely woven tunic. His sisters, Julia, Drusilla, and Livilla, flanked their mother, their postures poised, their expressions rehearsed. The children followed Agrippina like shadows, moving in perfect formation. Caligula''s steps, however, felt heavier than the rest. His face was carefully blank. This is his first time since regaining his consciousness. Agrippina''s will was unyielding, her ambitions, undeniably powerful. And he knew what to expect. He had learned by spectating while he is in his subconscious mind. So he walked. He suddenly felt nervous. It will be a large crowd like before. And like before, it will be a sea of blank faces, so he started to sweat. But back then was different. He was hiding inside his mind. But now....he was fully present, fully exposed. The streets of Rome stretched before them, filled with murmuring citizens. The air was thick with expectation, yet laced with something else¡ªsomething darker. Agrippina''s name had long been on their lips, spoken with both reverence and disdain. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Some called her the last vestige of Germanicus'' honor. Others whispered of manipulation, of arrogance, of a woman too entangled in the games of men. Caligula braced himself. His mother said that he should smile. He should wave. So that he''ll seem like the perfect son of Germanicus. But inside¡ªhe felt like screaming. So mother is now aware that I''ve come back to my senses.. he thought, biting his lips. The procession moved forward, the city''s familiar roads passing in a blur. He saw the gray, indistinct mass of faces¡ªhis world reduced to shades of shadow. Yet even without color, he could feel it. The shift in the air. The absence of the roaring adoration his father once commanded. Once they arrived at the forum Romanum, people has already gathered. It was mostly composed of plebeians. Caligula tried not to look around too much, as he can already feel himself getting suffocated by the lack of oxygen and his anxiety of being surrounded by many people. The applause was sparse while they walk¡ªtheir aim is the platform in front of the forum. Less than thirty hands clapped together, scattered and unenthusiastic. It had been years since Germanicus'' death. Years of processions. Years of speeches. And the people, it seemed¡ªhad finally grown tired. They moved closer towards the forum Romanum. But Agrippina halted, seemingly aware of the atmosphere.. she stands tall before the crowd, refusing to acknowledge the lack of response. Her voice, rich and commanding, rang out through the square. "Citizens of Rome, behold my children¡ªthe future of our great empire!" The words echoed. The silence that followed felt suffocating. A few murmurs. A few reluctant claps. Nothing more. Caligula didn''t have to see his mother''s face to know what she felt. Anger. Shame. For all her sacrifices, all her battles fought in their father''s name¡ªRome had turned weary of her. And for the first time, Caligula wondered just how long his mother could hold onto the power she so desperately clung to. Or how far she would go to keep it. He closed his eyes and bear it... **************************************** After the procession, Caligula sat alone, reflecting on the day''s events. From the tutor''s insults, the frantic preparations, the stifling march, the tension that hung heavy in the forum.. all of it was too much... He was tired. Tired of being paraded like a prize, tired of the whispers and the stares. He understood, in a way, why his mother did it. She was fighting for their family, for their legacy. But he was eleven! And he won''t even be in the line of heirs! The problem was, his opinion never seemed to matter. He''d been silent until now. He exhaled, resting his chin in his hand. Rome was exhausting. His family''s prominence was both a blessing and a curse¡ªoffering power but demanding unwavering vigilance. "I feel like a caged animal," he mused bitterly. "Except even caged animals get to nap." The city was divided. Some still worshiped his father, their adoration still remains like incense long after the fire had burned out. Others, however, watched with wary eyes. They feared Tiberius, feared the consequences of showing too much loyalty to the children of a fallen hero. And his mother¡ªshe thrived in that uncertainty, weaving through the treacherous game of power like a gladiator in the arena. Caligula slumped onto a cool marble bench at the Roman forum, his limbs heavy. He cast a glance at Agrippina, engaged in a conversation with what seems to be a group of senators, her voice trained, her gestures precise. Still can''t see her expressions... Caligula, on the other hand, was less interested in political maneuvering and more interested in figuring out how to disappear without being noticed like his siblings. Traitors he thought, as he looked around and tried to find them but they are nowhere to be found. It was then that a sudden, clumsy disruption broke his thoughts. A boy¡ªno older than sixteen, maybe?¡ªstumbled into view. His dark, possibly colored tunic, and a saccus full of scrolls, were his only companions. And judging by the way he tripped over his own sandaled feet, his coordination was as questionable as his sense of urgency. Caligula raised an eyebrow as the boy nearly crashed into a group of patricians, who recoiled with the same horror one might reserve for a stray dog tracking mud into a villa. The boy, entirely unbothered, scrambled to his feet. Muttering half-hearted apologies. Then, as if by fate or sheer bad luck, by how his whole body moved, his attention seems to locked onto Caligula''s. He narrowed his eyes. He had long learned to ignore the many stares that followed him, but one, in particular, felt¡­ persistent. It pricked at his awareness, a nagging presence just at the edge of his vision. Caligula dismissed it. Until the presence suddenly materialized, tumbling face-first into a group of horrified patricians. The boy seemed like he is happy, or smiling.. at me? What does he want? He wasn''t dense. He''d always seen that dark, messy hair, like it was nested by birds. That build, that aura. He''d seen it in his vision, even when he was lost within his own mind. The boy, seems nervous and flushed, slowly approaches Caligula. Suddenly stopping at the bushes full of flowers and picked one up. He continue to advanced while holding a small, wildflower that he plucked. He extends his hand once he reached him, immediately offering the flower. "Ahemm... for you," he stammers, his voice is deep. He can see his adam''s apple moving. Caligula, unable to see the boy''s face and overwhelmed by the lasting anxiety from the rally, perceives the gesture as a potential threat. He tenses, his hand instinctively moving towards his side, as if reaching for a hidden weapon (even though he has none) or a stone.. "What is this?" Caligula asks, his voice sharp and suspicious. "And why are you giving it to me?" His voice still feels foreign to him. The boy was silent for a moment, then, with a delayed startle, shrank back slightly at Caligula''s reaction. "It''s just a flower," he said, his voice wavering. "I thought¡­ I thought you might like it." His brow furrowed. A flower? he thought, his mind racing. Why would he give me a flower? Is this some kind of trick? A test? Or is he simply mocking me? He couldn''t see the boy''s face, couldn''t discern his true intentions. The lack of visual cues amplified his suspicion, turning a simple gesture into a potential threat. Who is this persson? I can feel his eyes on me, burning into me, but I can''t see his face. It''s like being blindfolded in a minotaur''s nest. He stared at the flower, a splash of white in his gray world, and then back at the boy. "Like what?" he pressed, his voice low and demanding. "This insignificant flower?" He needed information, anything to pierce the veil of his blindness. The boy, flustered and caught off guard, stammered again. "I¡­ I don''t know," he admitted, his whole body seems to darken, Caligula observed and looked around. There were no trees or columns nearby. Clouds? He squinted at the sky, the sunlight stinging his eyes. No clouds.. but he is turning darker? "It''s just¡­ pretty." He held the flower out further, his hand trembling slightly. "Please, take it. It''s nothing." the boy is actually blushing with his whole body. Caligula hesitated. He wanted to refuse, to push the boy away, to demand answers. But something in the boy''s voice, a flicker of genuine nervousness, held him back. Perhaps it was just a flower. Perhaps this was just a clumsy attempt at kindness. Or perhaps, it was something else entirely. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the boy''s hands, and took the flower. The touch, however brief, feels strange to Caligula. As he took the flower, his eyes focused on a worn leather saccus slung over the boy''s shoulder, bulging with rolled-up scrolls. Suddenly, the boy shifted, and one of the scrolls slipped from the saccus, unrolling itself across the cobblestones at Caligula''s feet. He looked at it involuntarily, it''s like a habit. Caligula''s breath caught in his throat.. It depicted a vivid scene of a flowering meadow, rendered with remarkable detail. He picked up the scroll with his free hands, while his fingers with the flower, traced the delicate lines of the drawings. Unlike the blurry figures he saw in the real world, these images were sharp and clear. He could see the intricate patterns of the petals, the subtle shading of the leaves. It was as if a window had opened in his gray world, revealing a glimpse of vibrant color. "What is this?" Caligula asked, his voice hushed with wonder. The boy, flustered and embarrassed, stammered, "They''re¡­ they''re just drawings. I like to draw." He bent to retrieve the scroll, but Caligula held it firmly. "They''re beautiful," Caligula said, his gaze fixed on the image. "What did you use to make them?" The boy hesitated, then explained, "Mostly charcoal, sometimes colored earths, and for finer details, a reed pen dipped in ink." Caligula''s fingers traced the lines of a particularly detailed flower. "I''ve never seen anything like this," he murmured. "They''re so¡­ clear." He looked up at the faceless boy, his expression a mixture of curiosity and something akin to awe. "Can you draw people too?"" The boy seems to turn dark again, his gaze darting away. "Sometimes," he mumbled. "But I''m not very good at it." Caligula, however, was no longer listening. His mind was filled with the images on the scroll, the realistic flowers, the lush meadow. It was as if the boy had given him a key, a way to see the world in a way he never thought possible. "What is your name?" **************************************** INDEX: palla - rectangular, draped shawl worn by Roman women, typically over a stola. stola - garment worn by married Roman women forum Romanum/Roman forum - central public space in ancient Rome, used for political, legal, and social activities plebeians- commoners patricians - nobles saccus - bag or sack, often used for carrying scrolls or other items