praetoria, we received a few glares and angry expressions, but most were happy. Even those few we had actually shot were aware that the training exercise had been productive. We returned the flag to Galba, while Caligula stood next to him wearing an amused grin on his face. Galba on the other hand was not happy. One of the squad’s errant tranquilizer darts managed to find its way into his thigh, and he had not awoken pleased.
In the end, every man in the camp, ourselves included, gained important knowledge, training, and insight into the ways of war. We had utilized our winter efficiently, and we all felt that much more confident about the upcoming campaign because of it.
Reminded of the night that five men and one woman had successfully defeated over twelve thousand men, I couldn’t help but smile, despite my attempts not to. Galba must have noticed, because when I managed to snap myself from the day dream, I noticed he was glaring at me.
I gulped and shifted on my feet, turning my attention back to the maps sheepishly.
With a shake of his head, Galba continued. “Once night has fallen on the following day, they will bring down the walls and our army will rush through, hopefully catching the enemy asleep and disoriented. The auxilia will attack the Castra Praetoria directly, while the legion itself will head straight for the Forum Romanum and the Domus Augusti, subduing any opposition in their path and capturing the rebel leadership, especially Claudius.”
Galba pointed to Vincent. “They will be our Trojan Horse, our key to the city, and like the Trojans, we will hit the enemy while they are at their most vulnerable. But,” he said sternly, looking at each of us in turn, “once the walls come down, and my men enter the city, you will stand down, and take a defensive stance only. Let us handle the suppression of the city, and only use force to defend yourselves. In fact, I’d prefer if you stayed out of the way completely.”
Even after all this time, Galba still didn’t trust us. Fight with us, use us, respect us, yes, but not rely on us. Galba was a tough man to please, but I couldn’t fault him for how he felt. It was hard to trust that which you couldn’t understand, and from a Roman’s point of view, there was nothing that could explain us.
Galba was about to continue when we heard a commotion outside the tent. Caligula and Galba remained at the head of the table, waiting for a report to be made to them. When the tent opened, I expected to see one of the legion’s junior centurions burst in with news. A woman entered instead, and every head in the tent turned to look, jaws dropping all around.
The woman was strikingly beautiful, dare I say, just as beautiful as Helena. Her slender neck connected to a face with full lips, high cheekbones, and an olive tanned complexion. Blond hair and royal blue eyes were an interesting contrast to her skin tone, but an alluring one. She was also tall, only a little shorter than Helena, and had a fullness to her slender frame that suggested a recent pregnancy. Adding to her beauty was her clothing, cut in a way which produced a slit along her left leg that ran nearly to her waist. It wasn’t a style I’d seen amongst Rome’s town women, but it definitely had an effect on all of us present, save probably Helena. It was also cut in a low fashion along her chest, revealing ample cleavage.
I thought I recognized her from somewhere, but I couldn’t put my finger on where.
Santino rubbed his eyes, as though she was some figment of his perverted imagination.
I wasn’t so easily fooled. There was something off about her. Her beauty was so unlike Helena’s, which conveyed warmth and tenderness. Instead, she seemed devious, insistent, and cunning. Like so many bleach blonde, bimbo clones back in 2021, this woman knew she was beautiful, and used it only to achieve her own ambitions and goals.
The only man in the room not drawn to the woman’s beauty was Caligula, who surprised us all by crying, “Sister!” and rushing to her side.
“Sister?” Santino repeated, giving me a look.
The realization hit me like a truck. “Oh, no…”
Vincent understood. “Agrippina.”
X
Rome, Italy
April, 38 A.D.
I knew all about this beautiful, young, vile woman.
Agrippina, or Agrippina the Younger, as she is better known to history, was the oldest of Caligula’s three sisters. In my undergraduate thesis about the Julio-Claudian family, I had spent ample time researching her in particular and, if I had learned anything about her, it was that she was trouble. If I remembered my dates correctly, she should be about twenty two, a very mature looking twenty two, if I were to judge. Pliny the Younger, a different Younger, recorded she had canine teeth, a sign of good fortune amongst Romans, and that physical detail allowed me to confirm this woman was indeed her.
Agrippina had been more than a mere seductress, but a very ambitious woman as well. Perhaps one of the most ambitious throughout Roman history. After Caligula went insane, rumors began circulating of an incestuous affair between him and all his sisters. In 39 A.D. she was involved in a plot to murder Caligula and replace him on the throne with someone she could control. When it failed, she was exiled, only to be recalled by her paternal uncle, Claudius, after he had become emperor.
In regards to Claudius, he went through three marriages, and Agrippina, two, before they themselves wed. The incestuous marriage between Claudius and Agrippina was creepy enough, but then there was also the age difference, which seemed paltry by comparison. After they were married, she rose to an unprecedented level of power, becoming an empress of Rome, bestowed with the title Augustina, sharing joint power equally with Claudius on some levels. She became a force to be reckoned with. While not a policy maker herself, she held considerable influence with her husband-uncle, as well as those he ruled.
The kicker was that Agrippina had a son from her first marriage, which she manipulated Claudius into adopting and appointing as his own heir, superseding his own genetic son, Britannicus. A few years later, Claudius began to favor his own son again, and grew a pair by condemning Agrippina. Not long later, in 54 A.D., Claudius was poisoned by a plate of mushrooms and died. Many historians credit the assassination to none other than Agrippina herself, and her son, Nero Claudius Caesar Drusus Germanicus, better known simply as Nero, became emperor as a mere teenager.
I wondered where Drusilla was, another of Caligula’s sisters. They had always been the closer ones. Granted if Agrippina was here, Drusilla was probably not far behind. Regardless, Agrippina had to have brought trouble with her, and if anything at all went right today it would be her leaving me out of it.
After quickly embracing his sister in a way any brother would, no sign of incest present, Caligula led her to his position at the head of the table. “My friends,” he addressed to us all, making me actually feel important. “For those of you who do not know, this is my sister, Agrippina. Introductions can wait until later, dear sister, but these are my closest friends and advisors. Now, tell me, what brings you here?”
Since her arrival, Agrippina had been putting on a display of contained desperation, as though she were just barely containing a fit of sadness and rage. When Caligula finally asked her what was wrong, she released her emotions in a stunning performance that I should have expected from the woman.
“Caligula, brother! It is my son! Lucius!” She wailed the name, falling into Caligula’s arms, weeping and pounding lightly on his chest. Her voice was high pitched, but despite the wailing, had a gentle purr to it that was easy on the ears. She was playing the part of the grieving mother well. Whether any emotion she was conveying was real or not was any man’s guess.
“Lucius?” Caligula asked. “I was wondering whether you had given birth. I was horribly worried. Lucius.” He repeated. “A good name. He will become a fine man.”
Santino elbowed me in the ribs, whispering, “New mom, huh? I can tell.” He emphasized his point by puffing out his chest subtly and shaking it from side to side. “Lost that baby weight quickly, too. Nice.”
I turned towards him as inconspicuously as I could, a blank expression on my face. Smiling, he shrugged, and turned back to continue gawking at our guest.
Caligula kept his attention on his sister. “What has happened to him? Tell me.”
