Praetorian Series [4] All Roads Lead to Rome (63 page)

“Yes.”

“Grab my forearm,” I ordered.  “Skin to skin.”

Cuyler did as he was told and slipped his hand under my sleeve and took hold of my arm.  Step one complete, I leaned over to Helena and gave her a quick kiss, her expression clearly not happy but supportive nonetheless.  Step two complete, I took a tremendous deep breath, let it out, closed my eyes, and settled in to concentrate.  Concentrate on what, I wasn’t quite sure, but still the confidence that I could take Cuyler home remained.  Remus had once told me that, in time, I’d be able to travel to dimensions or realities I’d never visited before and Merlin had said that my mind would steadily become more proficient at managing the whole ordeal.  They hadn’t been talking about accidental visits, but purposeful ones, making a specific trip to a specific location for a specific reason.  I wasn’t sure about all that, at least not yet, but the one clue to all this was that while I hadn’t been to Cuyler’s reality, Cuyler had.

I’ll probably never know how these orbs worked.  Whether it was a psychic bond, some kind of quantum entanglement, or maybe the orbs hypnotized me to delve into my subconscious.  Or, more likely, it was something I couldn’t even imagine.  But it was impossible to deny how they fed me information while simultaneously taking from my own mind, and Cuyler’s too. 

Dismantling, processing, and reforming all of it for me to inspect, I started seeing details of worlds in my mind.  It was overwhelming and unexpected.  I couldn’t understand where these visions were coming from.  My mind literally felt like it was about to stall out, but then something changed and things organized.  Like a photo album, I found myself flipping through thousands of distinct realities, each with their own scents, sights, sounds, languages, cultures, societies, technologies, and so many other indicators that could make a reality unique.  It was all garbled, overwhelming and indistinct, and so many felt completely unrecognizable while a few felt… almost right. 

I pushed most of it away, trying to zero in on my target.  I’d found momma bear’s porridge and papa bear’s porridge… but the one that was
just
right still alluded me.  I kept pushing, kept sifting, until something struck me that seemed to resonate with Cuyler as well.  And then, without actively deciding to, I thought about going there.

“Hunter…”

Cuyler’s voice was quiet, professional, in his element.  I opened my eyes and noticed that night had fallen.

“How long were we standing here?”  I whispered.

Cuyler removed his hand as he answered.  “Seconds. Your eyes were closed but I kept mine open.  One moment we were there, then… here.  Look at the trees and foliage.  Everything seems larger or overgrown.”

“Two thousand years’ worth of overgrowth, do you think?”

He looked at me.  “If you think this is my time and my reality, then I trust you, Hunter.  What other option do I have?”

I took in a deep breath and listened to the wind.  This shit was so far over my head, so beyond my understanding, that I had no idea what to think anymore, but, again, that confidence remained, and something screamed at me that this was where I’d wanted to go.  I looked down at the orbs, which were still and inert, as though trying to reassure me of something.

I turned to him.  “I think you’re good to go, Gunny.”  I held out my hand, which he took and grasped tightly.  We shook quickly, and then I gave him a pat on the shoulder.  “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” he said as he stared off into the distance, a familiar look of introspection on his face.  “It’s odd…”

“What is?”  I asked, glancing around.  “This
is
your reality.  I’m… pretty sure I’m sure.”

“It’s not that,” he said, looking back at me.  “It’s just odd to think of where we are.  From our perspective, here, everyone we left behind has been dead for two thousand years.  Yet, in a matter of seconds, you’ll return to them.  How is that possible?”

I shook my head, completely at a loss.  “Haven’t a clue, Alex, but I’ve long since realized that trying to understand all this stuff is as fruitless as trying to figure out the meaning of life.”

He nodded, and took a second before he wheeled around, shouldered his rifle, and started walking north.  I watched him go for a few minutes, struggling to see around trees and shrubs until he was out of sight.  Suddenly alone, I sighed and looked around, a sudden surge of curiosity sneaking its way into my conscious mind.  The idea of checking out a version of Rome that had been under Islamic control for hundreds of years was shockingly enticing.  I couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like.  Would its Western motifs and themes remain or would it be more of a blend, like Istanbul, where pockets of its Byzantine architecture remained?

I wondered and wondered, but knew I’d best be on my way.  It wasn’t because I knew Helena would be waiting for me; with the power of the orbs, I could arrive mere heartbeats after I left.  I could explore the whole world in that time if I wanted to.  But while a part of me did, the vast majority of me couldn’t wait to get back to her.

I looked back down at the orbs and watched as they grew active, as though sensing my desire to use them again and revving their engines for takeoff. Smiling, I closed my eyes, focused my instincts, channeled my thoughts, and reached out through the orbs, looking for Helena and the world I’d left.  It was almost too easy now, although some of that ease must have come from Helena’s presence alone, which stood unwavering as it always did, my trusty lighthouse calling me home safely.

My eyes opened and there she was, beautiful as always.

“How long was I gone?”  I asked.

She strode forward and tossed her arms around my shoulders playfully.  “Seconds,” she said before giving me a quick kiss.  “Nowhere near enough time for even
you
to get into trouble.”

I grinned before pulling her in to give her a quick hug and another kiss.  I broke us apart but kept my arm around her waist, using her for support as we trekked back to Rome.  Only a few days remained in our far-too-long vacation in Ancient Rome, and I was ready to make the best of it.  We
still
hadn’t managed to find an opportunity to visit one of Rome’s numerous coed and
private
bathhouses… a gap in our travel itinerary I intended to fill today.

***

A few more days passed.  Everyone was beginning to get stir-crazy.  Santino and Wang wanted to get back to reality more than anyone, while Bordeaux and Madrina were more than ready to return to Gaul with their children, although Stryker and Brewster were far less antsy than the others.  While neither of them had yet decided what to do with their new lives in Ancient Rome, it seemed likely that they would stay in the city itself.  Stryker had seemed interested in joining the Praetorian Guard, but Brewster was still a mystery.

Perhaps I’d visit in a few years and see what everyone was up to.

But first, I had one last thing to do. 

It wasn’t necessary that I do this.  The fate of history no longer balanced precariously on the choices that I made or the actions that I performed.  The direction of this great empire would, by all accounts, remain unchanged.  And no one’s fate would be altered because of what I did today – well, besides that of the individual being brought before me in a matter of moments.

I was alone, sitting in a random location in the
Forum Romanum
, waiting patiently as I watched hundreds of Romans go about their business.  Vespasian and Galba had claimed their “inheritance” from Agrippina the other day, making their announcement to the populace as well as governmental bodies simultaneously.  It had been an interesting affair.  Rome’s populace had taken the announcement in stride, perhaps weary of Caesars or simply too uninterested or uninformed about politics to care.  Rome’s ruling elite, however, had not been particularly fond of the idea.  With the passing of Tiberius many years ago, and the ascension of Caligula, Claudius, and Agrippina, Rome had been ruled by civilians for quite some time.  Even Tiberius hadn’t been much of a military man in his later years, and many senators and noble Romans had balked at the idea of what they took as a military coup.  The idea that
two
generals, neither with a direct connection to Agrippina, Nero, or any other Caesar, had appalled them.  But Galba had produced Agrippina’s will, quieting many bellicose senators while enraging a number of others who claimed her will to be nothing more than a forgery, probably at the behest of the Praetorian Guard.

It was interesting that the most vocal opponents were also the most accurate in their summarization of the truth, but, at least in this case, the truth wouldn’t help them.  This was one of those rare times when outside intervention was needed to set things right and do what was necessary for the betterment of all.  I hated the idea that I, for lack of a better phrase, basically had to play god with Rome and its citizens, but it was necessary.  I didn’t like the fact that I’d usurped a supreme ruler, placing my own in her stead, but it could be argued that this situation was quite unique.  In this case, playing chess with the future of Rome as my pieces, seemed completely appropriate.

But none of that mattered today.  I hadn’t spoken with or seen Galba or Vespasian since I’d handed Rome over to them, and I didn’t care to spend much time thinking or dealing with any of it anymore.

Come tomorrow, all this would be a distant memory, even if it was one that would remain in the back of my mind for the rest of my life, a constant reminder of so many failures, missteps, mistakes, and misdeeds.

Except for today.

Today would be a good day.

I lifted my head and soaked in the warm sun, basking in its heat and comfort.  August had certainly been a hot, muggy, and consistently sunny month, and while I normally hated such conditions, I’d found myself happily gorging on what it had to offer, using it to recharge my emotional and physical batteries as well I could.

Movement in front of me drew my attention, and I looked forward to see a pair of Praetorians who I recognized as ones who’d remained loyal to Agrippina to the end, but had seen the error in their ways and had sworn their loyalty to both Gaius and Marcus, as well as Vespasian and Galba.  Between them was a small boy of perhaps fourteen, tanned skinned, with a mop of dark hair upon his head and wide eyes that darted this way and that, taking in the splendor of Rome.  As they approached, those wide, dark, youthful eyes that seemed more mature than many others I’d seen on individuals twice his age, scanned my face, analyzed it quickly, disregarded it, and moved on.  But not a second passed before those eyes returned to my own, as open and wide as dinner plates.

The boy struggled for a moment against his Praetorian handlers, but they kept him in check as they brought him before me.  His struggles continued for only a moment, but then realization must have set in that he was doomed, and he acquiesced to their instructions and settled down.  I gazed at the boy, taking in his familiar features that seemed just a bit older then last I’d seen him, and a small smile pulled at my lips.  I was on the verge of laughter, so I distracted myself by sticking out my hand in his direction, a clear indicator that I wanted something from him.

The boy’s eyes narrowed and his face grew grumpy.  With one last struggle, the boy tugged his arms free.  The Praetorians panicked momentarily and attempted to catch him before he fled, but the boy showed no indication that he was going anywhere and they calmed down.

I shook my open hand at the kid expectantly, and with a deep, annoyed sigh, he reached into a bag, retrieved an object, and placed it in my hand.  I looked down at it and smiled.  The butterfly knife felt immediately familiar in my hand, and I took a second to flip it open so that the blade was extended in the boy’s direction.  He jerked away at the threatening manner in which I’d produced the blade, but then I quickly twirled it closed and tossed it to him.  He caught it and looked at it dumbly before back at me.

I spun a hand at him in a
go ahead
gesture.  “Let’s see what you can do.”

The boy grinned and began flipping the knife open and closed in the beautiful way that could only be performed with a Balisong, or butterfly, knife.  He even tossed it in the air, catching it with ease in a fashion that would have impressed even Santino, before finally closing it for the last time.

I nodded at him.  “Xenophon, right?”

He nodded back.

“Still making a living as a thief?”

He nodded again, a bit reluctant.

“No family?”

He shook his head hesitantly, but his eyes were steady.

“Miss your life in Byzantium?  Feel any strong urges to return?”

He paused for a moment, glancing around at his surroundings, before returning his attention to me.  “No.”

“Good,” I said as I placed my hands on his shoulders and looked down at him.  “I didn’t bring you here for my knife.  I gave it to you.  It’s yours.  I brought you here to give you a choice.  Choice number one: return to Byzantium and live out the remainder of what few days you probably have left as a thief.  You’ll scratch out a living but thievery won’t satiate you for long, and it’ll only be a matter of time before you turn to less scrupulous endeavors.  Believe me.  Probably end up dead in a ditch before you’re twenty.  Choice and option number two: you remain here.  You’ll be employed by the Praetorian Guard, given food, housing, and an education.  You’ll be given odd jobs – mucking out stables, swabbing floors, fetching armor and weaponry, cleaning it, more of the same.  Your life will be mundane but stable, and, in a few years, if you seem capable, you’ll be given a chance to apprentice under the guard’s prefects.  They’re friends of mine and have agreed to take you in, but
only
if you behave yourself.  The second you do something stupid is the day you’re back on the streets.  So… interested in a life in the Praetorian Guard?  Serving and protecting the rulers of the Roman Empire?  Creating a life for yourself that, while hard and perhaps painful, will be meaningful and full of reward?”