Praetorian Series [4] All Roads Lead to Rome (64 page)

The youthful lad who’d once robbed me blind in Byzantium but had also proven that he knew his Homer and of the stories regarding his namesake, Xenophon, glanced at the ground and took time to consider.  I’d known a year ago that there was more to this young man than what was apparent when viewing him by his chosen profession only.  I’d occasionally thought about him this past year, wondering if perhaps his, I assumed, affluent family had been the victim of some horrendous crime and he’d been left to the streets.  It seemed likely that he had perhaps come from means, only to find himself abandoned and left to survive on his own.  Or it was completely possibly that he really was just some street urchin who’d learned to read on his own, a prodigy left without means, needing only a chance.

And a chance I had given him.

It was up to him now.

Nearly a minute passed, and I grew confident he’d make the right decision.  Usually, people who seemed to legitimately think before making a decision tended to make the right one.  Finally, he lifted his head and looked at me, his eyes completely different now.  Instead of the contained anger and distrust he’d once shown the world, he looked shocked and happy, a classic look of someone who’d just been given a second chance at life, and was eternally grateful.

“I will stay,” he said.

I clapped his shoulders and playfully smacked his cheek with a hand.  I smiled but quickly smothered it, not wanting to let my emotions get the best of me.  Lowering my hands, I looked at the Praetorian to my right, and nodded.

“Take him to the
Castra Praetoria
,” I ordered.  “Get him cleaned up.  Provide him food and a place to stay.  Seek out one of the prefects for further instructions on what to do with him.”

“You are not coming?”  Xenophon asked, forcing me to look down at him again.

“Afraid not, kid,” I said, giving him a light tap across the chin with a fist playfully.  “In fact, this is probably goodbye forever as well.  Take care of yourself.  And make me proud.”

Xenophon nodded and turned when the Praetorian I’d spoken to gripped his shoulder and led him away.  I crossed my arms and watched them go, hoping the kid would turn around and look at me one last time, but he never did.  I took it as a sign that he was confident, ready to embark on a new adventure, prepared to turn over a new leaf.

Nodding to no one but myself, I lowered my arms and left the Forum.  I knew it would be the last time I’d ever see it in its pristine, ancient form, but I didn’t even bother glancing back as I walked away.  It was time to go home, and I couldn’t believe I would be leaving it on such a high note.  For all the harm I’d caused, at least I could leave knowing I’d done a little bit of good.  It was completely possible that twenty years from now, protecting his emperor on some unknown battlefield, Xenophon may be killed by a barbarian blade, but, if that was to be his fate, at least he’d die with purpose, knowing that he’d led a good and meaningful life.  His name would be forgotten in due time, his accomplishments inconsequential in the grand scheme of the universe, but at least he’d journey to Elysium with pride in his heart.

What more could someone ever ask for?

***

The time was finally here.  Time to say goodbye, bid farewell to the last seven years of my life, and finish the final chapter in a book I was prepared close, shelve appropriately
and
alphabetically, walk away from, and never reopen.  I’d never need to, because the story would stick with me forever, and if I ever met the author, I’d just as soon shoot him than ask for his autograph.

Appropriately enough, the sun had finally vanished behind thick clouds that had spawned torrents of rainfall, eliciting complaints from Santino and Wang earlier today, as well as suggestions that we postpone our departure so as to avoid the rain.  I would have shot them both had I any ammo left, but we’d scrounged what little we had and divided it out between Bordeaux, Stryker, and Brewster.  Wang and Santino could complain all they wanted.  We were leaving today, with or without them.

Luckily, the rain had petered out recently and was now little more than a drizzle as Helena and I waited for the others to join us.  We were currently northwest of the ancient city of Rome, atop a reasonably sized hill not included in the traditional “seven hills of Rome”, just across the Tiber River in an area that was ripe for future expansion.  It was an otherwise unremarkable area, with little of note besides a nearby circus used for chariot racing that had been developed during Caligula’s reign but finished under Agrippina’s.  I hadn’t a clue what the hill was named today, but I knew that in the future it would be known as
Vaticanus Mons
, and would be where St. Peter’s Basilica would be constructed sixteen hundred years from now – or about.

I had no way of knowing where exactly the Vatican would one day be built – I wasn’t exactly an expert on pre-Vatican geographical history – but this location would have to suffice.  When we made our way home, our intention was to return as close to the Vatican as possible.

I looked over at Helena, drinking in the sight of her.  She was sopping wet, drenched from head to toe, her short but ever-growing hair plastered to her scalp, and her combat fatigues, torn and shredded in numerous places, clung to her body.  Warm air had departed along with the sun, and while it would still have been comfortable sans the rain, it was somewhat chilly in current conditions, and Helena shivered as she sat atop one of our remaining gear containers.

She noticed my attention and gave me a jittery smile.  I sniffed out a quick laugh and moved to sit beside her, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her close.  She hugged me tightly, using my body for heat and comfort.  I didn’t bother saying anything and neither did she, and we sat there in loving silence as we waited for the others to arrive.

First to arrive was Brewster, who waved in greeting and sat beside Helena, scooting in close for warmth herself.  Next was Stryker, who, hands deep in his pockets, huffed his way up the hill and stood beside me in utter annoyance at the day’s weather.  Like Wang and Santino, he wasn’t particularly pleased with the timing of our departure either.  Gaius and Marcus arrived soon after, their dispositions cheerier than Stryker’s, never ones to complain.

Finally, as though purposefully taking their time, I spotted Wang and Santino approaching near the bottom of the hill.  They were carrying our last gear container between them, and although it should have been nearly empty and therefore quite manageable, they were constantly dropping it to catch their breaths before picking it up again, only to move another dozen or so feet before dropping it and starting the process over again. 

Bordeaux was with them, watching them in utter annoyance as they struggled with the container, before he finally grew tired of their intermittent and slow progress.  He shoved Wang aside and gripped one end of the container, beckoning the other two to take the other end.  When they did, Bordeaux set out at quick pace up the hill, Santino and Wang struggling to keep up.  It didn’t take long for the three men to cover the short distance, and when they finally did, Bordeaux dropped the container near my feet with ease while Wang and Santino fell atop it, breathless.

I stared at them.  “What could you two possibly have in there?”

“Booty, baby,” Santino wheezed as he gasped for breath.  “Loot, treasure, spoils and riches.  I ain’t going home empty handed after all the shit we’ve been through.”

“Damn right,” Wang said, gulping for air as well.

Stryker shook his head at them.  “I told you two to keep up with your cardio…”

“They’re never going to let you keep it,” I said.

Wang stared at me deadpanned.  “Let the bastards try to take it.”

“Damn right,” Santino said.  “They can have it when they pry it from my cold, dead hands, thank you very much.”

“Damn right…” Helena mumbled around a mouthful of rain.

Santino smiled at her and moved on from the conversation, taking a seat upon his crate beside Wang, waiting patiently, if not grumpily, as the rain continued to fall. 

I turned to Helena, surprised at her comment.  “Something of yours in that box?”

She shrugged.  “A few trinkets.  The necklace you gave me.  Some other interesting items we found along the way.  My legionary armor.  Think about it, Jacob… evidence of Roman legionary armor meant for someone with breasts!  It’ll drive historians crazy.”

I smirked.  “Certainly will.”

Santino spit out a mouth full of rainwater.  “What the hell are we waiting for?  Let’s go.”

“Just one last thing,” I said, running a hand over my face to clear it.  I settled in to wait again, but then movement at the foot of the hill drew my attention again.  “Ah, speak of the devil.”

Santino craned his head to look over the cusp of the hill, as did a few of the others, but Helena was the first to react, letting out a long, loud, sigh of disproval.  “You think they’ll let you keep
that
?”

I smiled as my trusty horse, Felix, came into full view, led by two individuals I couldn’t yet make out.  “He’s my friend, Helena.  I can’t just leave him behind.”

“Jacob…” Helena said, a warning tone in her voice.

“Don’t worry.  He doesn’t talk to me anymore.”

Her eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, not distrustfully but woefully, her memory as sharp and permanent as mine was.  I turned away from her and watched as Felix grew closer, wondering who the pair of men were.  I’d asked Marcus to assign a single Praetorian to the task, not two.  My binoculars were packed away in the container I sat on, so I’d just have to wait and see who they were.

Suddenly, Helena perked up and squinted at the trio of individuals coming our way, and then she chuckled.  “Well, I certainly don’t think the Vatican will let you keep
them
.”

I squinted myself, always amazed at Helena’s keen vision, wondering for a moment if her eyes were just another thing enhanced by Merlin’s magical elixir.  But it wasn’t long before the pair of men were identifiable, and I grew slightly apprehensive as to why exactly Vespasian and Galba had decided to see us off.

I stood and took a step forward.

It took them some time to arrive, but when they did, Galba held out Felix’s reins and I took them, giving my loyal horse a quick scratch behind the ears before I handed him off to Marcus so that he wouldn’t interrupt whatever interchange was about to happen.  Once he was behind me, I placed my hands on my hips and looked at the pair of generals turned politicians, squinting around a face full of water.

“Come to see us off?”  I asked.  “Or here to stop us?”

“We have no desire to interfere in your departure,” Vespasian assured.  “We were simply interested in seeing it for ourselves.”

“Is that so?”  Santino quipped, but I waved a hand at him to shut him up.

However, when Vespasian and Galba remained silent, I cocked an eyebrow at them and held up a hand.  “Well?”

Galba snarled at me.  “I have no greater desire than to see you leave and never return.”

“You’ll miss us,” I said quickly, offering him a mock smile.

“I believe
I
will,” Vespasian remarked offhandedly.  “I will freely admit: long have I held aspirations for greater things for myself, a life out of the trenches and into more comfortable living accommodations, but never did I expect such responsibilities at such a young age.  In fact, there was still my elevation to the rank of legate that I was only just recovering from.”

I tilted my head to the side.  “Is that some form of thank you?”

“No,” Vespasian said with a shake of his head.  “But there was something else I wished to thank you for.”

I couldn’t fathom what that could be.  All I’d done was bring pain and misery to those who called the ancient world home.

When I didn’t say anything, he continued.

“I wish to thank you for never abandoning us.”  His tone was sincere and his body posture relaxed, although I still couldn’t understand the subtext of his apology.  He continued.  “Your arrival may have set into motion the sequence of events that brought us to today, but I have little doubt that without your intervention at every moment these past seven years, we would not be standing here at all.”

“Sounds like you’ve been thinking about a lot of ‘what if’ scenarios,” I suggested.

“I have,” he said.  “All your talk of traveling through time and whatever else it is you can do has given me much to ponder on.  I have no desire to leave my home, but I understand now just how important every decision we make is.”  He pointed at the pair of bulges at my side, the orbs nestled together safely in my pack.  “While you may now have the power to change past mistakes, I do not, and that finality will weigh heavily on my mind in everything I will ever again do.”

“I’m glad you think that way,” I said, my face suggesting just that. “Although I’m not surprised… okay, maybe a little surprised that you didn’t already, but, hey, nobody’s perfect.”

“Certainly not,” Galba mumbled.

I ignored him, taking a moment to look over their shoulders at the city of Rome, using the opportunity to drink in every last detail.  I hadn’t grown nostalgic about our time here until just this very instant, and I realized that even though I won’t miss it for a second, there would certainly be individuals I would regret never seeing again.  I didn’t want to think about the possibility of visiting – not yet, anyway.  There were still too many unknowns to simply jaunt about the Multiverse willy-nilly.  I wasn’t about to do anything stupid now.