“It is as bad as they say?” Gaius asked.
Paullus glanced to his men, seemingly telling them with his stare to remain where they stood, before he placed his hand onto Gaius’ shoulder, leading him nearer to the wall where he lowered his voice and spoke.
“It is much worse than they say.” Paullus thought for a moment as he looked up at Gaius with a renewed sense of familiarity. “That night at Varro’ entertaining dinner, I was impressed at your honesty. While he might soon be my father-in-law, the man can be a dreadful bore, made worse by his lapdogs. So, please, Gaius, share with me some more honesty. Tell me, what is your opinion among our people — how do they fare after the most-recent defeat?”
Gaius was taken aback by Paullus’ personal question, one that he didn’t quite feel he was privileged to answer giving his status and position among men like Paullus. However, he would not lie either, so with a heavy sigh; he gave his answer.
“Dreadful, I’m sorry to say. We are broken, and on the verge of defeat. The men have very little heart left, and the people don’t trust that our leaders or army can protect them. And Hannibal, he is no fool. He knows us better than we know ourselves, and I doubt regardless of what force we can manage against him, will do much good if we don’t completely rethink our approach to this war — namely, the thinking of our leaders, as each disaster could have been avoided if it weren’t for narrow-sighted, ambitious men.”
Gaius felt nervous by the long silence shared between Paullus and him, when he finished his brief statement. If the man so wished, Paullus could have him sent to the farthest corners of the Republic on a whim, or perhaps worse. He did not dare to understand what game the senior was playing, political or otherwise. So, he waited for Paullus’ reaction.
Paullus turned and glanced momentarily at Julia, who stood by with the best smile she could manage, even though Gaius could see she was also nervous.
“You are right, my dove. He is quite the officer. It is shameful that Rome does not have more like him.” Paullus smiled as if a wonderful thought crept through his mind, as he turned back and continued speaking with Gaius.
“Those men, outside, they are yours, correct?” Paullus asked.
“They are mine — the Second Century of the First Cohort, Sixth Legion. I’m afraid that at the moment they are what remain of the Wolves, I’m sad to assume,” Gaius replied, wondering where the question was leading.
“Very well, Centurion. I would very much appreciate if you camp your men on the Fields of Mars. I would like them to join the city guards and what ruminant of the legions we have left that have already trickled back to Rome over the past couple days. I do believe that some of the Sixth is with them, perhaps you legate is among them.”
“I would hope so, sir,” Gaius beamed. He wasn’t aware that survivors of the Sixth were back in the city.
“Regardless, I would like you take command of what men we have left if Valerius has indeed joined his ancestors. I will have them folded into the Sixth under your watch as Camp Prefect,” Paullus added with a slight grin.
“Prefect, sir! I’m honored, but wouldn't that have to be approved by the consuls, which from my understanding, we are short two?” Gaius asked, truly shocked by Paullus’ statement. He hadn’t dreamed he could attain such rank, at least without another ten years of service, and even then, to be a prefect of Rome.
“Then, it is a good thing the Senate has used its emergency powers to appoint me as Consul of Rome,” Paullus said, which surprised everyone in the room. He turned and looked over at Antony, who had remained silent, sitting down on the couch, enjoying his cup of wine. “And your father has been given the seat of Co-Consul, which is why I’ve come bearing such wondrous news. Where is he? I do hope he hasn’t fled the city quite yet,” the sarcasm was thick in Paullus’ tone, but Antony did not seem offended as he stood from his seat and answered.
“No, he is still here. He is in his study at the moment,” Antony replied.
“Well, please be a lad and fetch him for me.”
Gaius couldn’t help but notice the tone in Paullus’ voice when he addressed Antony, as if he was just a child, even though he was only a year younger than Gaius.
Antony did as he asked, first nodding his respect to Gaius, glad to see his friend well and safe, before he turned and went to retrieve Varro.
Paullus turned back toward Gaius. “And as for you, I’ll grant you the temporary title of Prefect, until the proper documents can be drafted and approved, with all rights, status and privileges accustom. Do you approve, Prefect Gaius?”
“It is, sir, an honor,” Gaius replied, failing to find the right words. “There is one concern, that isn’t regarding my men, but the civilians. I’ve invested quite a lot of time and energy in ensuring their safety. However, when we arrived before the gates of Rome, I found them locked, forbidding our people entrance and protection.”
Paullus sighed heavily, lowering his head just a bit as he replied.
“Yes, an unfortunate thing to happen, one which I did not approve of. You can rest easy, Gaius that the first order I will issue is for the gates to be opened, and martial law lifted. We must try to put this shameful past behind us, and move forward.”
Paullus rested his hand on Gaius’ shoulder, speaking to him with bolster, as if he was addressing the people.
“I will raise new legions that will not falter under wrongful leadership as our previous commands had demonstrated. You and I, Gaius, we will march north once more to avenge the terrible costs that our brothers have already paid. When we do, Hannibal will tremble with fear at such a sight. We shall, with his demise, rid Rome of his disease, and usher in a new dawn for the Republic.”
Gaius could not say anything, but only manage a false smile. He had heard similar statements before, and while he doubted that Paullus was as naive and ignorant as the previous two consuls, Gaius knew that Paullus had not faced Hannibal, had not seen what the man was capable of. Yes, Rome would recover, but too, Hannibal would be waiting for whatever the Senate sent against him.
Paullus turned and faced Julia, now focusing his attention on her as he stepped before her, taking both hands in his and speaking with a loving voice.
“When this messy business is over, my lady, we shall be wed. Together we will see our child grow in a new era, one safe from men like Hannibal and his ilk.”
Julia managed her best smile and replied, “I look forward to such a wondrous time…my love.” Her eyes couldn’t help but drift toward Gaius. Paullus seemed to notice as an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Thankfully, a moment later Varro entered, drawing Paullus’ attention away, as he moved to tell his soon to be father-in-law the news.
“Gaius…” Julia struggled to say in a low whisper, but there was nothing she could do as he abruptly turned.
“I have to see my men to camp,” he said, unable to look her in the face.
“Gaius, please,” she pleaded silently, grabbing hold on his arm, forcing him to stop. However, he refused to look back at her.
“I…” Her mouth could not form words even though her heart was screaming out.
Gaius saved her from having to speak.
“I have to go. Goodbye, Julia.” And then he was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The snow had begun to melt as the welcome warmth of spring finally arrived, and with it, renewed hope for the people of the Republic. As the ranks of those men able to take up arms and fight for their freedom swelled outside the walls of Rome, the sense of invulnerability began to take hold of the peoples’ hearts and minds. However, for Gaius, Prefect and acting commander of the steadily growing Sixth Legion, his nights had been restless for weeks as he tossed in bed. H mind too far gone for it to stay grounded, as he pondered many issues that plagued him: his new rank and the responsibility that came with training hundreds of raw recruits, most having
