The Wandering Commander: Asinius Commodus

This is a story I've been writing for another R:TW forum. In that forum, it was a worthy story and that was how I became one of the famous writer there until I got kicked out (not going to say what I did) and came running here with my tail under my legs. But I have to say that this forums have most the best writers compared to the other one. So maybe it wasn't so bad. Here's the story and I hope it will entertain you guys here! :bow:
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Chapter 1: Waiting for the Units
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High above the sky, flew an eagle, spiralling up on the wind as it scanned the ground for some game. With the wind ruffling its feathers, it looked as if it was some grandiose monster flying, but yet it was elegant and smooth, with an aura of power and authority. As it continued to soar, it spotted something moving on the ground. Still, it stayed calm and unmoved. Flying lower, the eagle tipped its body slightly and it started to descend with increasing speed.

Faster and faster it went, the wind screaming and howling around its ears but yet it had no effect on the eagle. With a deadly accuracy, the eagle aimed for the fleeing hare and it made a few alterations now and then, to make sure that it didn’t miss its prey.

Lower, faster.

Lower.

Lower.

Lower.

Lower.

“SNAP!” A brutal sound exploded around the grassland as the eagle’s beak snapped the hare’s neck. Spreading its wing to stabilize itself, the eagle settled on the grassy ground and tightened its grip around the neck. The hare struggled, its paws hitting the head of the eagle feebly and slowly, with a burble of blood bubbling at the back of it’s throat, the last breath escaped from it’s throat. The eagle released its grip on the hare and raised its head up. Shaking its feathers, it waited for its blood to settle down before it started to survey it’s surrounding. Scanning the area for any threat, it spotted a fort a few miles away. However, there seem to be no danger there and the eagle decided to ignore it rather than checked it. With a quick movement, the eagle grasped the hare in its beak and flew into the setting sun.

***************

Asinius Commodus paced around the open ground in his fort. He was starting to get worried. Although his father had appointed him as the commander of the first army of the Juli family and he was supposed to get his first unit of urban cohort yesterday, however, the there was no sight of them and Asinius dispatched a messenger to Arretium.

“So fair and foul a day I have not seen,” Asinius said, condensation vapours trailed out of his mouth. Pulling his cloak tighter around him, Asinius looked up and sawed an eagle flying directly into the sun. He thought nothing about it as this area was full of eagles, however, his sharp eyes spotted something and upon further observation, he sawed a limped creature in its beak. He continued to stare at the eagle, trying to make out what its prey was but the glaring sun hurt his eyes. Breaking his glance away, he walked to the stables.

Strange, thought Asinius, I had been here for six months and this the first time I’ve seen an eagle carrying its prey. Maybe it is an omen for me. With a heavy shrug of his shoulders, he quickened his pace.

Asinius walked between the stalls of the horses and went up to a huge one at the end of the stables. In there, was a magnificent brown stallion storming its hooves and snorting. Opening the gate, Asinius walked in and stood in front of the red-eye creature. Reaching out his hand, Asinius stroked the horse’s nose and whispered words of comforts to it.

“The day will come soon, when you and I will get out of this godforsaken place,” Asinius whispered. Stroking the horse’s mane, he scanned his eyes to see if any burrs had gotten into the stallion’s mane, but thankfully, there was none and he patted the stallion on its back. “Sleep well, my lad, its getting late,” Asinius said and slowly, he opened the gate and walked out. As he was about to lock the gate, a voice sounded from the entrance.

“Sir, the messenger has return, he bring news from the capital,” a bodyguard told him.

“Bring him here,” Asinius replied. Bowing, the bodyguard walked out and in a few moments, a tall, lean man walked in. His face was slightly red and his eyes seemed to bulge out slightly. Looking closely, Asinius saw the carotid artery in the neck sticking out like an angry welt. It was obvious that the messenger had been running hard.

With a certain air of cautious, the messenger walked slowly and eyed the great stallion warily, trying to keep a considerable distance. He bowed before Asinius and delivered a scroll. Asinius read it before placing it into his tunic belt.

“Beside this news, any other news from my father?” Asinius asked.

“No, sir, the consul is still in Lugdum fighting the Germans,” the messenger replied, his breaths coming in short sharp takes.

“Well, a blow but still something that I can stomach. At least I might prolong my own death,” Asinius said.

The messenger’s brow furrowed in confusion, however, he was in no position to question and he continued with his message.” Accept my deepest apologies, sir, I expressed your wish that you wanted your units most urgently but the diplomats in Arretium said that the units were still under training,”

“Good, you are dismissed then,”

“Thank you, sir, my service is always available to you,” the messenger bowed and walked to his tent.

Asinius watched the messenger before turning his gaze to the sky. The world is never static, thought Asinius, things will change, and one day, I can pass on my leadership to my younger cousin and be finished with this soldiering work. Asinius was different from his kinsmen. Though he followed his one of his older cousin, fighting the war against Spain, Asinius preferred the cultivated mind. He had spent a few years in Athens learning from the Greek philosophers. After the short stint in Spain, he returned to Arretium to learn in the Scipotum before his father pulled him out and placed him in a fort a few distance away from the capital.
Asinius stared at the setting sun, its bloody colour staining the sky, the north winter wind drove in his face and he felt depressed. Someday, he felt that he would come to a bloody end.

Some day.

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Chapter 2 – The Order
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Summer, 192BC.

The eagle perched on the palisade of the fort. It was slightly amused by the gathering of another animals he had never seen before. None of them seemed to be afraid of him nor were they paying any attention to it. This was strange, the eagle thought, usually most animals looked around, on constant alertness. However, these animals seemed to lack one and they were giving their full attention to a man standing a small mound. Another strange characteristic it thought, very unlike of other animals, unless they were facing a competitor or fighting for their life.

The eagle turned it attention to the man on the mound. He seemed grand, with his large red cloak and magnificent armour that glinted as fiercely as a lake in a summer day. The eagle wondered whether the man was an excellent hunter, if not, how did he get his cloak stained with full of blood?

The whole pack was facing the man. He must the alpha, the eagle thought, the dangerous one. The eagle turned its gaze away from the alpha, partly because its neck muscles were starting to become cramp and partly because he didn’t want to start a fight with a huge alpha creature. As it was starting to preen its feathers, it caught a sight of another eagle and immediately it stiffened its body.

Turning with great care, the eagle lifted its head up and saw a great eagle that seemed to be floating in the air. That’s strange it thought, how did such eagle acquired such power? Without warning, the second eagle moved forward by an inch and the eagle stiffened its body, adrenaline pumping in its body, ready for fight or flight.

But then the laser eyes of the eagle caught something puzzling. Although the second eagle was facing it directly, the second eagle did not move at all. Furthermore it seem stuck to a pole. Looking down, the eagle saw something surprising; the pole was held by one of the strange pack of animals. Must be a dead eagle, it thought, however, it still felt threatened and a moment later, the eagle flapped its wings and was off to the sky, its home.


************
Asinius saw an eagle flying away. It looked like the same one he seen yesterday. However, it was quite dark and he could not make out the colour of the eagle. Yesterday’s eagle had been brown with white strips on both edges of the wings and at the end of the tail. Such was the power of Asinius’s sight. Tearing his gaze from the eagle, Asinius looked on at his new army with pride. Though it was not as good as the Senate or as the Brutii, it was so far the best army the Julis had ever created.
There was one Urban cohort, one Praetorian cohort, five Legionary cohorts, four Praetorian Calvary, four barbarians mercenaries and one barbarian Calvary. The Julis were famous for recruiting endless of barbarians mercenaries. Better to keep them in the army then letting wreck havoc in the countryside.

“It is a fine army,” Lucius Pedanius Secundus said.

“Yes,” Asinius answered his bodyguard. Although the army could have been better, Asinius was not a warring type and he was nonetheless happy.

Just then, the gates of the fort opened and in came the messenger. Asinius observed the messenger, the face was red, redder than yesterday and the carotid artery was pulsing like a crazy snake on the neck. Asinius made a mental note to tell the messenger to take it easy. He did not want a messenger dying of exhaustion. Recruiting messengers was hard since it was such a dangerous job an Asinius did not have the time to look for a new messenger. Waiting impatiently for the messenger, Asinius hoped that it would be an order from the capital to march his army to the north, where there were many rebel armies and where the Germans were constantly attacking them.

“Sir, I bring news from capital,” the messenger bowed.

“Speak,” Asinius said.

“You are to march your army within 5 hours, to the north, near the city of Alesia where there is a rebel army,” the messenger replied.

“Good, you are dismissed,” Asinius waved his hand. Bowing, the messenger ran back to his tent to prepare for the journey. Asinius sighed.

“Tell the soldiers the news, tell them to prepare for the journey, on the double,” Asinius told Lucius.

“Yes, sir,” Lucius replied.

Asinius walked back to his tent. He was tired from surveying his soldiers and examining their weapons and armours. Although all the soldiers came from the capital, he had to make sure their armoury and weapons were in good conditions after the non-stop march from the capital. Lifting the flap to one side, he entered his tent and sat slowly onto his bed. It is time, he thought, where the saying comes true Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. Frankly, Asinius didn’t like the saying too much, he thought it was foolish and whoever said it, doesn’t know anything about wars.

Outside, Lucius was shouting orders to the soldiers. Asinius closed his eyes and tried to ignore the clamour, was it good to fight for his faction? How would he gain glory from it? With only an arch erected in the memory of him and a statue built of him. Asinius didn’t know, he was confused, and his head was pounding with all his thinking. But he would find out, one day he would find out.

In a battle.


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Chapter 3 – The March
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Winter, 192BC

Snow drifted down from the sky and the mountains stood in its stony silence. However, Asinius felt safe. He was still in his own faction territory and so far there were no rebel army in the area. Watching his infantry marching and his archers walking with relative ease, Asinius felt confident that he could crush any opposing army with this force.

But what worried him the most were the barbarians mercenaries. They were slightly restless and while marching, they were constantly looking around their surroundings, as if some army would ambush them. Asinius wanted to put them at the front of the army; so as to let them absorb any surprise attacks. However, Lucius argued that their morale was poor at the moment and that they would route immediately instead of fighting. Finally giving in to Lucius, Asinius placed them at the back, behind the Urban and Praetorian cohorts.

This battle against the rebels would allow the mercs to get some experience, Asinius thought; at least we are not fighting against some fearless German army.

Asinius breathed in the fresh mountain air, grateful to be out of the confined fort. He looked forward to meeting his father at Lugdum. It has been 8 long years since he last saw his father.

“I’ve just received news from the messenger,” Lucius rode up to the calm commander. Immediately, two of the barbarians mercs turned and looked at Lucius.

“Oh, what is it?” Asinius asked.

“Your cousin, Sextus Cinna, is about to get his army.”

“Yes, father chose him to be the second leader of the second army, so why are you telling me this?”

“You will be fighting against Britianna and Germania soon, and you have only received one Urban and one Praetorian cohort, while your cousin will be fighting against the remaining Spanish forces and he received three Urban and three Praetorian cohorts,” Lucius relayed the facts.

Asinius paused for a moment, lost in thought. However, there was no hatred or shock in his face, only the calm expression he wore since marching out of the fort. Lucius turned away, he didn’t want to see the expression on his commander’s face, and he was therefore shocked when he heard what Asinius replied,

“Well, I don’t see what the problem is,”

Lucius stared in amazement, surely his commander knew how fierce the Germans were, “Don’t you feel any jealousy?” Lucius asked tentatively.

“No,” came the short reply.

“Why?”

“Because,” Asinius answered, “I have a feeling that after Sextus conquered the remaining Spanish provinces, he will be ordered to conquer Britannia.” Smiling slightly, Asinius turned his attention to his infantry to see any fatigue in them.

“Interesting thought, and who are we going to conquer?” Lucius asked.

“Germania, and hopefully Continental Europe,” Asinius replied.

“How?” Lucius asked.

“We’ll see, we’ll see,” Asinius replied.

Both men rode on sliently, each with the same thought on the vastness of Europe. Dacia was slowly becoming strong and there was still the Balklands to conquer. Each thought that the conquest was impossible and each knew the heavy responsibilities and expectation on them.

Slowly, the army marched on the highway, which snaked through the mountain valleys. Snowflakes continued to fall silently and soon, the army disappeared behind a mountain.

High above, an eagle soared, following those plodding animals below. They were interesting, it thought, they didn’t seem to be afraid of its surrounding and they were fearless in the way they walked, especially the alpha.

Drifting on the high wind, the eagle skimmed slightly.

this is getting quite good keep it up! i like the bits with the eagle as well and you have an interesting style of writing

GMM

Very good, littlelostboy! Welcome to the Mead Hall.

I like the description, and the eagle perspective is novel. However, sometimes your sentences are a bit hard to understand. But all in all a very nice story. Please continue ~:thumb: .

New update!
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Chapter 4 – An Honoured Death
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Summer 191BC

The eagle continued to soar above the clouds, the air currents was lifting him up, higher and higher. Feeling at ease but yet alert, it found a warm air current and started to spiral upwards. The world became silent and for the thousandth time in its life, the eagle and sky became one. It was a perfect example of two contrasting elements becoming one, distinct but still functioning as one.

As the eagle soared higher, it encountered a mild turbulence. However, it was used to it and soon overcame that resistance. The eagle’s laser eyes continued to scan the pack of strange animals below. For two days straight, they had been marching tirelessly, only to stop in the evening to build some sort of home, like the one it first seen. The strange thing, however, was that these animals did not need to eat. It had not spotted any of those strange animals hunting down other animals nor eating other preys. For the first time in its life, the eagle felt slightly vulnerable, for animals that could move on tirelessly without food, they would be formidable opponents.

The eagle was starting to lose sight of the pack. Slowly, it tipped its body down and with controlled caution the eagle spiralled down. Inch by inch, feet by feet, the eagle continued its journey downwards until it could make out the designs on the armour of the alpha. The alpha, the alpha, the eagle thought. For the past two days, the eagle had been keeping watch on the alpha, observing it and watching how the rest of the pack always obeyed its orders without fail. It was as if the alpha had complete power and authority over the pack. The eagle started to feel uncomfortable being too close with the strange pack. None of them had seen him and all of them were intent on moving forward. Feeling afraid that it may be spotted by one of the pack members, especially the alpha, the eagle flapped its wings a few times before rejoining the sky.

Once again, a fusion of two elements occurred.

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Asinius looked up and spotted the same eagle that had been trailing them for the past two days. He felt a little strange about this eagle. It seemed to think like a human and it acted like one. Why would an eagle trail after an army for two days straight? Even when he walked around the fort at night, he sometimes saw the silhouette of the eagle against the moonlight. He wondered whether the eagle belonged to any of the German’s faction members or the Dacians. Asinius knew that it was stupid for him to think about a spying eagle but yet he felt uneasy, sooner or later, he had to get that damned eagle shot.

“Sir, the messenger has arrived from Lugdum, he bring news,” Lucius rode up to Asinius.

“Bring him to me,” Asinius replied. Although he had been worried that the messenger was working too hard, Asinius was nonetheless happy with a man who was devoted to his job with a fierce passion. I will reward him with an excellent horse, Asinius thought, instead of the weakling he’s using now.

“Sir,” the messenger appeared beside Asinius. He was sitting on a pale, weak-looking horse that seemed to break down any moment soon. It was obvious that the messenger had been pushing the horse hard again.

“Speak,” Asinius said.

“The rebel army is still at the north of Alesia, though they are not making any trouble. However, your father wants you to exterminate them as soon as possible. There is good news too, Germania has finally exhausted all its resources and it had negotiated a peace treaty with us.”

“Did we accept?”

“Yes,” the messenger replied.

“Good, at least now my hands are not so full. How does my father?” Asinius said.

“He is well, but his health is failing. He longs to see you before you embark on your first mission,” the messenger replied.

Immediately, a shadow passed over Asinius’s brows. He was worried that by the time he reached Lugdum, his father would be dead by then. Looking up, Asinius thought that he could see the outskirts of the city. So near and yet so far, he thought, just a journey from the city and yet it seems like blasted eternity.

“You are dismissed,” Asinius told the messenger.

“Thank you, my service is always available to you,” with that, the messenger fell back and went to ride with some of the cavalry on the right flank.

Asinius sat in his saddle, lost in his thoughts. There were rumours about his father’s failing health. It must be those bloody Germans, thought Asinius, why in the name of Hecta would they want to take Lugdum? His mother had been right. His father should have retired to the capital and let one of his cousin take over the city. Give those lazy pigs a good shock, Asinius thought. The circling vultures of his family members were hovering around, waiting for the Legendry Infantryman to go to the Underworld. Asinius thought about his father, it was because of the Infantryman that Julis had gained recognition about Rome. Thrice, he had been elected consul and a numerous time, Pontifex Maximus. Now, all of the efforts of Asinius’s father would go down the sewers, all because of his lazy, thieving uncles and cousins.

Summer had come and the air was not too cold or hot. For six months Asinius’s army had endured the brutal cold in the Alps. Summer was a welcome relief to his men. Still, Asinius had no time to enjoy the refreshing air that had the fragrance of melted snow, shrubs and trees. All he wanted was to get to Lugdum and listen to his father’s last wishes before he embarked on his first mission. Staring impatiently at the long winding road, it seemed to take eternity.

Asinius sighed, resigning his cursed unluckiness to the Fates.

Meanwhile, a scream sounded from the sky, but none of the men below took notice.


**************

The army moved along the path that led to the city. Surrounding them was miles after miles of farmland. There were no noise, except for the wind, the rustling of the crops and the steady sound of the soldiers’ feet hitting the stone path. Asinius was glad to see the city within his sight. Finally, he might be able to see his father after all. Looking around, he was surprised to see that there were no farmers or slaves working on the farms. Maybe they’re preparing for my coming, Asinius thought.

As Asinius was adjusting his strap, he saw something moving ahead. Looking up, he noticed that his army had sensed the approaching unit and had slowed down. What is this, thought Asinius, some Germania or rebel army deep in our territory? Observing the unit, Asinius gripped the reins tightly; he was not sure whether to give the order for his army to attack the intruder, but then, he didn’t want to be attacked and massacred by some other army either.

Asinius waited, squinting his eyes hard to see the shape and the colour of the banner. However, it was difficult with the amount of dust covering the fast approaching unit. Asinius tensed, his mind for once thrown into confusion. Should he attack the army? But then, Asinius might destroy some farmlands in the process and he didn’t want that. On the other hand, if Asinius just sat and wait, it might be too late. The only option was to send his messenger ahead to see what it was. Reluctantly, Asinius called out to his messenger.

“There’s a job for you,” Asinius said.

“I can see that, sir,” the messenger grinned.

“Good, I want you to ride up to the front, check out what unit is it and see which faction it belongs to. Stay near the archers and don’t get attacked,” Asinius replied.

“Yes, sir,” Within seconds, the messenger was riding towards the front. Riding on for a few more feet, the messenger stood up and peered ahead. Asinius and the whole army watched anxiously, wondering whether a battle was going to start. Just then, the messenger turned at gave a shout and a thumbs-up. Asinius became puzzled, wondering just what in the Hades was going on.

“It’s a cavalry unit from Lugdum,” the messenger replied upon his return.

“What? I thought I was going to be greeted at the city?” Asinius asked.

“I have no idea, sir, but it is not just a cavalry unit, the diplomat Tertius Priscus is also present,” the messenger said.

“Tertius, why is he coming here?” Asinius was duly puzzled.

“I have no idea again, perhaps I could go and meet them?” The messenger asked.

“I’ll go, but follow me. Lucius, keep an eye on the men,” Asinius said.

“Yes, sir,” Lucius replied.

Riding away from his unit, Asinius and the messenger trotted to meet the cavalry unit that had slowed down now. Asinius could make out the red colour banner with the wreath on it. However, Asinius felt dread, he don’t know why but he just felt that this was not going to be a good meeting at all. Trotting slowly, Asinius trotted up to meet Tertius, who was at the head of the envoy.

“Greetings, what hail you here?” Asinius asked.

For once, Tertius did not speak. Instead he just kept on staring at the messenger. His lips were drawn in a tight line; the brown eyes that sparkled with intense alertness and intelligence seemed dead. The wrinkles on Tertius’s face seemed to be more pronounced, with a hint of defeat in them. Instead of sitting proudly, Tertius slumped in his saddle.

Steady yourself, Asinius thought, and breath in.

“Asinius, my boy, your father had passed away,” this came out in whisper.

The world collapsed. Asinius sagged in his seat. He had failed, failed to meet his father for one last time. The word failure seared his brain and it came like a red-hot sledgehammer that burned him mercilessly. He was lost in his own thoughts, stunned that he was defeated by not the opponent but by the Fates, which dealt him a cruel blow, a cruel blow that knew no words. A slight breeze stirred in the still atmosphere, it seemed that for once the gods of the nature were pitying him and trying to comfort him but still, Asinius was oblivious to everything.

The next thing he knew was that his messenger was leading his horse towards the city. He heard Tertius talking about the great achievements his father had done. About how he was the first in the family to become Consul, about how he received the name The Infantryman, on how he helped to prevent the family fortunes from backsliding and many other countless achievements. But Asinius was not listening, it seemed as if a string inside him had snapped, like he became loose, like there was nothing holding him anymore. As Asinius entered the city, he realized that there were people lining the streets; farmers, merchants, soldiers, slaves, ordinary citizens, all were at the side of the streets. All were facing the Governor’s Palace and all were bowing at it. Asinius rode towards the palace, led by his messenger. Behind, his army marched in with precise formations and order.

Tertius dismounted from his horse and walked up the first few flights of the stairs of the palace. Looking towards Asinius, he beckoned to him. Asinius slowly dismounted and walked up to the great marbled entrance of the palace. Tertius, bended with old age, hobbled up the stairs with Asinius. Together, both made a dignified sight, one dressed in the finest Roman armour and the other draped in finest Roman silk toga. At the entrance was a golden table, presented from the Senate to the Infantryman. On it, laid the legendary commander. The two men walked towards it and as they approached it, Asinius saw the peaceful expression on his father’s face.

Choked with emotions, Asinius felled to his knees beside the golden table. Slowly, Tertius did the same, with joints creaking. For a moment, all was silent, then Asinius’s army started to bang their shields, creating a loud, regular rhythm. On and on it went and finally the whole army gave a loud cry:

“TIBERIUS THE INFANTRYMAN!”

The whole population of the city did likewise. Asinius did not response or acknowledge the sounds below him but instead stood up and bend to kiss his father’s ring. Raising his head, Asinius slipped the ring off his father’s finger and slipped it on his own. Below, the roar was still going on and the soldiers were still banging their shields.

It was indeed an honoured death for a leader.

New update! Please feel free to comment or critisize on my story. I welcome constructive critisim. If not, just enjoy the story. :bow:
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Chapter 5 – Change of Plans
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Winter 191BC

The winds ruffled the feathers of the eagle, it felt serene. The past few months had been peaceful and the pack of animals that it was tracking was staying in some kind of abode for a period of time and soon it got bored and flew away to the nearby mountains to stay. Once in a while, it would visit the abode of the pack of animals and watch it carefully. It was slightly surprised at first that there were other similar animals and it came to a conclusion that this place must be a special gathering for the animals.

Its eyes saw a prey from above. Just for some amusement, it decided to scare the prey into running. Folding its wings tightly, it started to descend with an increasing speed. A turbulence started and shook the eagle wildly around. Closer and closer it got, its sight locked onto the prey, a hapless one with no escape.

Ruthlessness.

The prey looked up and its pupils dilated in fear. Frantically, it started running across the valley. Adrenalin was coursing in its blood and its heart beat like a frantic beat as one would hear from the drums of an African drum. Tall stony mountains covered both its side and the short grass could not hide the prey. It was doom.

The eagle’s body shook violently, like a tree in a cyclone. But it was strong, the muscle taunt and the body absorbing the shock and stress brilliantly. Lower it went, closer it approach the prey with an aura of an all-mighty animal.

Death.

“SWOOP!” The eagle grazed the back of the trembling animal. Instead of closing its talons around the body of the hare, it took off into the air and flew away from the weak animal. It was hungry but then one hare was not enough for it. However, now its hunger had abated. The feeling of the trembling muscles of the hare against his talons. The pupils dilating so wide in the presence of fear. The smell of fear that hit the eagle strongly as he swooped down low over the hare; and all these reactions were because of it.

Fear.

The eagle knew now that it was the powerful predator; it was able to instil fear into its prey. The hare was nothing. Bigger preys were what he needed. One that would be fit for a king.

****
It had been six months since the great Consul Tiberius passed away. During that time there were great mourning and three days of silence in Arretium and Rome. It seemed as if a great veil had passed over the Julis and the people of Rome; it was a loss that seemed irreplaceable.

The Senators had sent their condolences to Asinius, the same as the Scipii and the Brutii. However, Asinius knew that only the Senators were sincere while the other families were probably gloating over Tiberius’s death.

Thankfully, there were no rebellions or revolts after the Consul’s death. Tiberius’s reforms, no matter how drastic it was, had proved their efficiency.

A day after the death of the Consul, the body was transported to Arretium where it later continued its way to Rome to be buried in a great tomb. Asinius was allowed to relieve his post as an army leader and was allowed to go to Rome for the funeral. However, he refused. Despite the rumours among his family members and relatives that it was an ingrate and was just trying to take the opportunity to become faction leader and retire in style, Asinius knew that his father would be prouder of him if he went to conquer the Germans, a goal that his father had never accomplished.

It was cold, despite warm south breeze and the wind from the Alps howled around the city, sounding as if it was the Sirens calling. Standing on top of the stone wall, Asinius looked towards the rising sun and watched an eagle skimming around the outline of the sky. During the past six months, Asinius always noticed that the eagle was near him, wherever he was. On some days, it perched on the roof of the palace, others, on the walls but most of the time, soaring in the air. Asinius thought that it was strange but seeing the kingly bird every morning gave him strength.

“Beautiful morning, hmm?” Tertius appeared beside Asinius.

“Yes,” replied Asinius.

“You know, Asinius, I know you always wanted to make your father proud. But there is no need to rush into this foolish attack against the Germans,” Tertius said.

Asinius smiled. Tertius was renowned for going straight to the point. 20 years of negotiating with those hard-ass Germans had certainly made Tertius a diplomat with a sharp tongue and a quick mind.

“Why?” Asinius asked, although he knew the answer.

“Right now, it is a very dangerous period for the Juli family. We have lost our most stable political figure and we are under pressure from Spain,” Tertius said.

Another smile from Asinius.

“I know,” Asinius said, “That’s why we need to crush Germania fast and hard,”

“Forget Germania, Britannia is slowly crushing them and furthermore, the Britons are advancing into Continental shore. They need to be contained in their islands,”

“So you are saying I should attack Britannia?”

“Yes, but you don’t have to rush you know. I know that you want to make up for not being able to attend your father’s deathbed and you don’t have to be so hard on yourself. When your father was dying, he said he understand that you were not be able to make it to his deathbed. He didn’t want you to exhaust the soldiers for the fear that you may run into some hostile German army,”

Asinius remained silent. Staring at the eagle in the sky, he felt more determined to lead his army into war. For six months his army had been garrisoned in the city and they were getting more and more restless. Tertius leaned heavily against the stone tower and buried himself deeper into his cloak. He came to admire the young lad. Asinius was blessed with an intelligence that was unmatched in the Juli family and a quick decisive person. Tertius was glad that the Consul had brought up the lad well. Two years in Greece and a few years spent in military in Spain had made the lad an all-rounder.

“Tertius, I made up my mind months ago that tomorrow will be the day when I will lead my army into war. No matter how much you try, I will leave this place,” Asinius said.

Tertius sighed. He knew that it was hopeless to argue against the strong-willed lad. Putting his hands on Asinius’s shoulders, he looked deep into the blazing eyes.

“Go forth, lad, you have mine and the gods’ blessings,”

New Update! Enjoy the continuation of the adventures of Asinius!
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Chapter 6 – The Thundering Eagle
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Winter 189BC

The army stood outside the city. The overcast sky seemed to spell doom on the city but other than that, it seemed a perfectly normal day. Even from his spot, Asinius could hear the bleating of the goats and the haggling of people and the smell of market products drifted towards him. Asinius gripped the reins of his horse tightly; he eyed the trees warily, looking for any sight of enemy that might be hiding behind those imposing trunks.

“Bring the rams forward,” Asinius said.

“Mercenaries, forward!” Lucius yelled.

Three units of mercenaries marched forward slowly. The middle one was heading straight for the gates and the other two were heading for the walls on the left and on the right of the gates.

“Tell the archers to cover the mercenaries,” Asinius said.

“Sir, the enemy does not know that we are attacking them, why do we need the archers to cover our men?” Lucius asked.

“There could be some soldiers on watch, the Britons are too cunning to leave their walls,” Asinius replied.

Just on cue, a trumpet blasted from the inside of the city, followed by some yelling from a Briton soldier. Asinius did not understand a single word of the ranting and raving, but from the sound of it, he was sure that the barbarian was alerting the others.

“Archers, forward!” Lucius yelled.

Two units of archers marched forward, their bows cocked, ready to fire flaming arrows over the palisade. The three units of mercenaries were already at the walls and the gates, getting ready to pound at the palisade into smithereens.

Thankfully, no arrows were fired towards the archers and mercenaries. Watching the rams pounding the gates and the wall, Asinius looked at his legions in front of him. They were all tense and alert, each hand gripping the shield and the gladius. Asinius smiled, this battle would be an easy one, facing a formidable opponent would toughen up his soldiers after a year break.

“Order 2 legionary cohorts and the Urban cohort to take the wall at the left side of the gate. I will lead Praetorian and 1 legionary cohort to the gates. You, Lucius, I want you to lead the rest of the legionary cohorts to the wall on the right. And I want our cavalry guarding our rear, and make sure that they will be ready to charge towards the enemy when I give my signal.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucius replied and he galloped off to relayed the orders to the troops.

Asinius stared at the palisade and wondered how it would feel, the feel of his blade clashing against steel, the shock as his horse charge straight into the enemy, the feel of his blade entering the soft flesh of the enemy. Asinius closed his eyes and tried to force the thought that he might be the one to feel the blade in him out of his mind. A few years in the Spanish campaign and he still haven’t gotten over his fear. Gritting his teeth, he opened his eyes and stared at the gates determinately.

“They are ready, sir,” Lucius returned to Asinius’s side.

“Good, march forward,” Asinius said.

“Men, forward!” Lucius roared.

Slowly, the army of Asinius moved forward in precise order. At the exact time, 2 legionary cohorts and one urban cohort broke and marched towards the left side while another 2 legionary cohorts marched to the right. Asinius marched forward straight ahead. The gates were slowly weakening under the increasing poundings of the ram. As Asinius’s legions stopped just behind the mercenaries and the archers, the gates and the walls fell down slowly with agonizing groans.

“HOLD YOUR GROUND!” Asinius shouted. The soldiers stood still while the mercenaries moved the rams out of the way. The archers aimed their arrows at towards the open holes and waited for the enemy to burst forth.

Before the dust could settle, a horde of barbarians painted in woad burst out like a pack of hell dogs. The mercenaries managed to reform and braced themselves for the impact. However, the barbarians cut through the ranks of the mercenaries and started running towards the legionaries.

“Legionaries, forward! Reserves, fire at will!” Asinius ordered. The legionary cohorts marched forward to meet the barbarians. Over their heads, the sky became covered with flaming arrows and pilums.

Immediately, some of the Britons were struck down by flaming arrows or pilums. The second and third lines raised their shields to protect themselves, only to be bogged down by the irremovable pilums.

The legions charged forward and struck at any Briton that were in the way. Responding to the threat, the Britons rushed forward and charged at the Romans.

The air was filled with the clash of steel against steel, shields against shields, armour against body and the sounds of the groaning of the injured and the grunts of the fighting.

The mercenaries regrouped and charged at towards the rear of the Britons, who now realized that they were surrounded by Romans. Panicking, they turned and tried to run towards the city, only to be cut down by the approaching mercenaries. Asinius was sitting on his horse watching the slaughter of the unfortunate and reckless Britons when he heard a tremendous roar that came for inside the city.

Fast approaching the battle scene was a giant sitting on a horse that looked more like a monstrous bull. The giant charged and crushed the mercenaries standing in his way. The Britons who were trapped between the Romans yelled with renewed strength and surged towards the legionaries.

“Signal for the cavalry!” Asinius said to his messenger.

Waving a red flag, the messenger rode away from the fray and blew his trumpet as loudly as he could. The cavalry captain who was waiting saw the waving red flag and ordered his cavalry to charge.

The ground thundered and shook as a hundred and eight horsemen flew towards the Briton general, who was laughing and jeering as he went about slaughtering legionaries in his path. As he looked up, his expression become one of fear as he saw twenty horsemen thundering towards him. Before he could retreat, he was cut down from his horse and was trampled by numerous hooves.

The Briton general’s unit suffered the same fate and before long, the cavalry was thundering into the city.

“MEN, MARCH AT WILL!” Asinius shouted and galloped into the city. A huge war cry came up from the legionaries as they ran into the city. Sweeping his gaze around, Asinius’s sharp eyes spotted the few remaining Britons and cavalry running towards the city square.

“CAVALRY, WITH ME!” Asinius shouted and rode towards the remaining Britons. Whipping his horse with his reins, Asinius urged it to go faster.

“Don’t fail me now, Pegasus, let’s destroy them,”

Saying that, Asinius’s horse leaped into the air and Asinius raised his sword to cut a horseman’s head off. A Briton soldier turned and sawed the flying horse and man and immediately yelled out in fear:

“Gods be with us! It’s a thundering eagle!”

And so, the city of Samarobriva fell in a day.

bad story and the writer is a bit too cocky :P just a joke...welcome to the meadhall and i enjoyed your work

Quote:

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Originally Posted by The Stranger

bad story and the writer is a bit too cocky :P just a joke...welcome to the meadhall and i enjoyed your work

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Why you...! ~:pissed: Ha, just joking. Thanks for your comment. ~D ~:joker:

yur welcome you know what made me a legend here

POSTS LIKE THESE

Your writing is nice, but I have a feeling the story is lacking a purpose. Why is Asinius attacking Samarobriva? Is it part of a greater plan or did he just do it because it suited him right now?

Otherwise, please continue with your story.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by The Stranger

yur welcome you know what made me a legend here

POSTS LIKE THESE

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Post like these also got you your floodcontrol and lost you the ability to edit your posts. Just in case you had forgotten... :devil:

on no every post reminds me of the sacrifise for legendarism :P

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Ludens

Your writing is nice, but I have a feeling the story is lacking a purpose. Why is Asinius attacking Samarobriva? Is it part of a greater plan or did he just do it because it suited him right now?

Otherwise, please continue with your story.

---

He attacked it on a whim. Yes, that is the truth. But it's also because he wanted to destory the barbarians (Britons and Germans) as he felt that they were the cause of his father's death, never giving his father peace by constantly attacking and beseiging the city that his father was in.

New update. Please feel free to comment on the story. I apologize for now, for any grammatical mistakes or spelling mistakes, they are not intentional, LLB :bow:
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Chapter 7 – A Roman Briton
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In another fort outside the gleaming city of Arretium, another commander was inspecting his army. Comprising of three Urban and three Praetorian Cohorts, a few legionary cohorts, three units of archers, a few units of mercenaries and the rest cavalry; Sextus Cinna looked at his army with pride. Finally, the endless months of waiting had paid off; he was going to conquer new lands in the name and power of the Juli family. News of his cousin, Asinius, had spread around the Italian peninsular that the city of Samarobriva had felled to Asinius’s army in an hour. Sextus was determined that he would bring down the remaining cities in the Spain with glory and with bloodshed.

One that would even overcome the glories of his uncle, Tiberius.

********
Asinius was supervising the parade of slaves when his messenger ran up to him.

“My lord, there’s news of your cousin, Sextus,” the messenger breathlessly replied.

“What is it,” Asinius asked.

“As we speak, Sextus’s army is marching towards Spain.”

“When did he receive his full army?”

“Just today, my lord.”

“Good, you’re dismissed,” Asinius answered.

“Thank you, my services are always available to you,” the messenger bowed and sprinted towards his tent and started to prepare for some dinner for himself. Asinius frowned deeply in thought, his eyes staring at the mountains. He and Sextus was close, however, Sextus had always harboured the ambition of being the faction leader and a great general. Asinius began to feel worry. To have a crazy family member, as a faction leader was one thing, it was an easy matter since Asinius was the de facto and he handled the affairs of the states behind the scene, leaving his crazy uncle to prance around in the public. But to have an ambitious, intelligent commander around was another thing and Asinius had to think of something to curb his cousin’s lust for ambition before he and Sextus clashed together.

“Ehasdf!” A sound came from one corner of a hut. This was followed by a sound of a table collapsing and a chair crashing onto a floor. Asinius stiffened, he had his soldiers combing around every corner and area of the city and all of the civilians that were hiding had been dragged out. From the sounds that were coming from the building, it sound as if someone was trapped between some furniture. Cautiously, Asinius walked up to the threshold of the hut and stop there, straining to hear for more sounds, but there were none. Standing there for a few seconds, Asinius finally walked away when he heard another sound. He tensed, sure that it was not the sound of a falling plank or a falling pot but a sound of a muffled scream.

Unsheathing his sword, Asinius turned around and walked into the hut. It was clothed in darkness and the only light streamed in from the doorway and the few small windows. A few steps away, Asinius could make out the outline of an overturned chair and a broken vase but beyond that, everything else succumbed into darkness.

He step forward, left arm in front of him slightly and his eyes screwed up, trying to see into the dark. Approaching one corner of the hut, Asinius froze and nearly jumped when he saw the chair moved. Asinius slowly crept back, his eyes fixed on the now motionless chair, and every muscle and fibre of him was concentrating on it, ready to attack whoever came out from under the chair.

“Arghhh!!!!!!!” Asinius yelled as something leaped up and pounced on him. The thing dive at his right arm and soon Asinius’s gladius flew spiralling out of the hut and into the sun-filled road. Striking blindly, Asinius scrambled backwards as the thing continued to attack him mercilessly, screaming, biting and hissing for all it’s worth. He was helpless, whoever was attacking him knew where to strike and soon Asinius could taste his own blood running into his mouth and mixing together with the salty sweat and saliva. His own armour was bogging him down and no matter how many times he struck; he seemed to miss the ghastly apparition.

“TWACK!” The sound reverberated around the room and immediately Asinius heard a bone cracked. With his head reeling from the multiple attacks, Asinius though that he was struck terribly, until he realized that the something stopped attacking him. Immediately, Asinius limped from the room and out into the open. Breathing deeply, he felt his pounding blooding slowing down and his head clearing a little. The fresh, crisp air brought back some energy into his limp body and the sun seemed to be a sweet yellow buttercup in the sky.

“Lucius!” Asinius called out, his voice was hoarse and as he was about to call out for Lucius again, he realized that there was no need to for the second-in-command was running towards him.

“Sir, what was that?” Lucius asked as he struggled to lift Asinius up the ground.

“I don’t know, there’s something or someone in there, someone that was hiding. Apparently, I heard a loud crack. It must have broken a bone because it stopped attacking me.” Air came in ragged and short breaths as Asinius tried to get rid of the pain on his side.

“Stay here, I’ll check,” Lucius replied and cautiously walked into the hut.

“Be careful, for whoever is it, it seem like a demon from Hades,” Asinius advised.

The pounding of his head ceased and Asinius felt better. Resting his head against the wall of the hut, he lifted up his hand and tenderly felt his face. Slowly, his hand ran over it and he winched whenever his hand touched a painful, pulsating wound. In all, Asinius counted over fifty scratches.

“Silence!” Lucius roared as he struggled with someone in the hut. Asinius grew worried and thinking that Lucius might be hurt, Asinius struggled to get up when Lucius flung a young girl out of the hut.

“Bloody pigs! Scum of the earth! Filthy scum! Blasphemers!” A torrent of vile words pour forth from the girl’s mouth as she hurled small planks at Lucius, which just bounced off his armour harmlessly.

For a moment, both Asinius and Lucius were struck dumb. Neither had expected the girl to speak Latin, must less Latin insults.

“I said SILENCE YOU BLABBLING IDIOT!” Lucius roared at the cowering girl, “If you can speak Latin then you can understand me!”

“Lucius, calm down,” Asinius said.

Breathing heavily, Lucius continued to glare at the girl. Asinius slowly got up to his feet and with some difficulty; he walked forward towards the whimpering girl. Surveying the girl, Asinius realized that the girl had the tanned looked of a Roman person and the colour of her long, flowing hair was black, instead of the usual Celtic colour of yellow or light brown. However, her eyes were a brilliant blue and it shone with an intensity of an intelligent and defiant person.

Asinius kneel down beside the girl and stared right into her eyes. Maintaining the eye contact, Asinius began to speak.

“I ask the questions and you answer my questions and nothing else, you understand?” Asinius said, “Now, first, who are you?”

Silence.

“Answer me,” Asinius replied.

Silence.

“One last chance, Briton, where did you learn to speak the Latin tongue?” Asinius asked.

Silence.

“Lucius, since she doesn’t want to talk, take her away to the rest of the other prisoners,” Asinius replied.

“NO!” The Briton shrieked.

Asinius stared calmly at the girl. For a few moments the total silence wrapped around them like the wings of an eagle. Though they were near, the smoke that curled around the air separated the girl and Asinius with a thin screen. Though the sky was overcast with dark clouds and with the smoke that rose continuously from the fires, some sprinkle of sunlight still filtered down and it reflected off something on the girl.

Reaching out, Asinius lifted a gold chain that was hidden by the girl’s dark hair. At first the girl struggled to get the chain back from Asinius but Lucius held on firmly, anger still coursing in the blood of the second commander.

“So, you are the daughter of Guern the Great,” Asinius asked.

When she realized that the game was up, defiance left the girl’s face and her shoulders sagged, as if a crushing burden came upon.

“Yes,” she replied.

“So, is Baradog your brother?” Asinius asked.

“No, my cousin. You killed him! You filthy pigs!” The Briton raised her head up, her voice pitched high and when Asinius looked closely, he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

Ignoring her accusations, Asinius pressed on, “Where did you learn the Latin tongue?”

“Why should I answer your questions?” The Briton snarled back.

“Very well, I’ll just take that gold chain and send it back to your father. I know Guern personally and I’ll know that once he have your gold chain, he’ll come tearing through the mountains and right into my trap,” Asinius replied.

Uncertainty crowded the Briton’s face and although she was trying to put on a brave front, Asinius could see the worried look on her face.

“My mother was a Roman,” the Briton replied.

Asinius and Lucius stared at the Briton in surprised and for once, none of them spoke except stared at the tanned, dark-haired girl. Above them, an eagle circled around the town, shrieking cries of victory.

Aye, new update on the adventures of Asinius. Enjoy! :bow:
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Chapter 8 - The Eagle and The Alpha
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Asinius stared at the eagle. For a week it had been watching and observing the eagle closely. Every morning when the sun peeked through the dark horizon, Asinius would be out of the town on his horse, riding towards the cold, bleak mountains. There, he would wait, waiting for the eagle to descend from its barren home. Surprisingly, the area seemed to be devoid of any other animals, an area that was famed for its diversity of species. Asinius suspected that the eagle or some family of eagles had a part to play in this. Approaching a lone tree, Asinius tied his horse near the tree before settling under it. There, he waited until the sun had conquered darkness and had sat on its on rightful throne on the sky when the eagle would appear.

**************

The eagle flew down the rocky mountains. Towards the plain of death that it had seen a week earlier. What it saw feel it with fear, admiration and respect. Fear, because it now knew that the pack of animals, which it had been tracking, had defeated the stronghold of another pack of animals, in such a short time too. Admiration, because the alpha leader had been calm and had lead his animals to victory. While the other pack of animals guarding their stronghold had fought in a disorganized mess and their alpha leader had been slaughtered within a short time, the crimson-coloured animals had fought in a calm orderly fashion. Respect, respect to the alpha leader, for now to the eagle itself, the red-crested alpha seemed to be some leader to be reckoned with.

Soaring easily on the warm air currents that were now appearing, the eagle flew towards the sun, its golden feathers camouflaged against the golden brilliance of the sun. Pride and joy filled its heart once more, this was its home; the sky, the sun, and they were its family and nothing else.

Then, it spotted the red-crested alpha.

But it was without its red-crest.

But it was definitely the alpha, the mighty leader that had lead its animals to bloody glory. Once again, fear and respect filled the eagle's heart. Then anger. Why should it, the mighty golden eagle, be afraid of an animal that cannot fly, much less camouflaged against the environs? Why should it, the golden eagle of the west, of the sky, of the sun, be afraid of a lowly alpha from the cold jars of clays? Feeling its fear leaving, the eagle slowly spiralled down towards resting alpha. Slowly, in precise movements and grace, it moved towards the alpha.

***********

There it was.

Asinius watched the eagle, scrutinizing its every move. After a week of observing the eagle, Asinius was finally relieved that the eagle was not a spy for the Britons or for the Germans. Every night, it headed back to the south, towards the mountain that divided Asinius from the civilized, Roman lands. But still, Asinius had some lingering doubts. There might be some Druids that were hiding among the Roman lands, sending the eagle to spy on Asinius and his soldiers. Today was the day.

Today, he was going to capture the eagle.

**************

Gliding towards the alpha, the eagle’s sharp eyes could see that the alpha was watching him, silently. A small camp fire was burning near the foot of the alpha’s leg and the alpha was constantly feeding it with dry branches, and at times, it produced a cloth and covered the fire, before lifting the cloth and send small, billowing grey smoke into the sky. Warily, the eagle slowly approached the alpha. As it descended from the safe sky, it emitted three short, sharp cries.

Lower.

Lower.

Lower.

Lower.

The feet hit the earth with a gently impact and the eagle raised its wings to stabilize itself. Shaking itself, it walked towards the alpha before stopping just near the fire. There, it stood and stared, its golden eyes fixed on the dark brown eyes of the alpha.

For a long time, neither of them made any noise.

**************

Asinius watched the eagle as it made it descent and settled down near its fire. The eagle was watching him and somehow he felt a strange kind of power radiating from the eagle, a kind of pride, and a kind of mood that surrounded a mysterious and majestic bird.

Asinius tensed his body, neither moving nor relaxing. This was the first time the eagle had came so close to him and he was not going to let the chance slip out of his hand. Fixing his eyes on the eagle, his right hand moved very slowly to a pouch.

The eagle flapped its wings ad made soft, dangerous noises.

Immediately, Asinius froze.

Watching the eagle, Asinius hand lingered around the opening of his pouch. He watched the eagle and it seemed to be observing his every move. Two leaders, both observing each other.

It was unnerving.

Asinius’s hand slowly creep into the pouch, there he slowly fish around before grasping a piece of something. Slowly, he pulled his hand out.

Slowly, inch by inch.

The eagle jumped.

Asinius froze.

Then very slowly, the eagle settled back down at the foot of the fire, its body tense and its eyes watching Asinius. Slowly, Asinius pull out his hand from the pouch and extended it forward to the eagle before dropping the thing onto the ground. Then, he waited.

The eagle walked slowly towards the thing on the ground. At first, it looked at Asinius and back to the thing and back to Asinius before turning its golden-brown head towards the sun. It continued to watch the sun rising from the depths of Hades, conquering and defeating the darkness. For a long moment, the eagle stood staring hard at the sun, before turning back to Asinius and watching him with a fierce, haughty look. Then, with all the vigilant the eagle had, it extended its neck and grasped the piece of raw meat.

Asinius waited as the eagle stared at him, the piece of meat still in its beak, not swallowing. He wondered how long he could wait for the sun was around over the horizon and he had to be back to town before the sun was high above. Leaning his back against the bark, Asinius relaxed as he saw the eagle finally swallowed the piece of meat.

But then it was still not over; the eagle might fly away at once after finishing its titbit. However, the eagle stood there, staring at Asinius as if it was trying to peer into his soul. For the first time, Asinius felt guiltiness crawling over him and enwrapping him around, like when a person walked away from a lamp and was enshrouded in darkness.

The eagle slowly flapped its wings. However, as much as it wanted to, it could not fly. Somehow, the heady aroma of the smoke from the fire was confusing it and the eagle was surprised because before it ate the meat, it was fine and beside, the eagle had been very tolerant of smoke, until now.

Then realization hit the eagle and once again, fear filled it and the eagle cast an eye, an unsteady eye on the alpha. Fear hit it hard as the eagle realized it was powerless, it could not fly. Flapping its wings, the eagle walked away from the alpha, trying to increase the distance between both of them. However, some how, although it seemed to be walking fast, the distance only seemed to increase slightly. Then another thing hit it again, and hard. It came quickly, without warning and engulfed it totally. The eagle was shocked but it fought against the thing but then the eagle was weak and eventually, the eagle succumbed.

Asinius did not moved from the tree. He sat watching the eagle as it fought against the drug and then fell like a stone onto the grassy ground. But still he did not moved. For the first time, he felt anger against himself, for what he had done to a bird, a bird that was a worthy leader and king. He felt like a lowly bastard and he actually wanted to leave the eagle there instead of capturing it. However, he knew that if he went back to the town without the eagle, he would feel the urge to capture the eagle again, and he could not simply drug the eagle a second time.

Standing up, Asinius stomped the fire out before taking a leather bag from the ground. Slowly, he walked up to the eagle and gently carried the eagle into the inside of the leather bag, which was covered with soft brackens and moss. When he made the eagle as comfortable as he could, Asinius carried the bag towards his horse and hang it on the side of his saddle. Hoisting himself onto his saddle, Asinius looked at the eagle through the gap of the leather bag and once again, feelings of guilt filled him.

“Homeward, old boy,” Asinius said to his horse and soon, the horse, the eagle and the alpha was beginning the slow journey to the town.

Have you missed out chapter 8?

The story is interesting, not in the least because of the interplay between Asinius and the eagle. However, I am still wondering what Asinius is doing. Is he a man with a purpose or is he just waging random war?

Please continue ~:thumb: .

Right now he's just waging a random war to live up to the image of his deceased father. He will be a man of purpose in the next part.

The Chapter "The Eagle and the Alpha" is suppose to be chapter 8. A typo. Sorry. Anyway, I'm back after a very very very busy week. Been churning out a few chapters too. Enjoy! :bow:
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Chapter 9 – The Fall of Trier – Part 1
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Winter 187BC

The army marched north again. The brutal wind assailing them from the mountains and sleet, thick sleet fell around the army. Slowly, the army trudged through the white storm. Mountains rose up from the ground and merged and blurred into the grey sky. Sometimes, they closed into the path until a legionary at the side could reach out and touch the cold, rocky wall. At other times, the mountains were so far away that they just seemed to be more than a background picture.

Asinius bended his head, shading his eyes from the sleet; his scarlet cloak wrapped tightly around him. The wind howled around his bright pink ears and each ragged breath he took in hardened and froze his trachea. In front of him, he could barely make out the outline of Pegasus head though he could hear the horse panting heavily. Asinius turned to look behind and saw that his men were trying to remain in their formations. However, it was difficult, with the wet rocks covered with snow, and with their heavy armour, the men kept slipping.

But slowly, the men moved on. The strength they got it from their iron-will determination. But it was just not that, for now they were deep into Britannia territory and on their west was Germania territory. Although the scouts had reported that the nearest town was three days march away, the whole army could feel the foreboding spirit of the barbarians watching them from the dark forests.

Squinting his eyes, Asinius peer ahead in the swirling gloom. Although he could still see nothing, he wanted to be on his guard at all times. In this deadly weather, it would make his army more vulnerable to any ambush from the Britons or even from the Germans.

“We should rest somewhere,” Lucius yelled above the howling wind, “the men are tired,”

“No, Trier is a big town, we have to catch them by surprise,” Asinius yelled back.

“There is a small mountain valley at the south of Trier,” Lucius yelled, “we could camp there for the night, it is not far,”

Asinius did not reply. The thought of camping for the night was tempting. Not only would his soldiers be refreshed for next day’s attack, he could also send small group of men into the town to explore the area. As Asinius was about to reply, he remembered what his cousin told him when campaigning in Spain. It was a popular story told to all young Juli adults, the story about how one foolish army encamped in a small narrow valley between the mountains and was trapped at the rear and the front and was slaughtered in a few hours by the Spanish. The night when his elder cousin told him the story, they were encamping at the border of Spain and Asinius was constantly watching the mountains nervously. That night, he could not sleep and kept his gladius beside him constantly.

“No, we might be trapped in the valley by the Britons or the Germans,” Asinius replied.

“But sir, the soldiers, they – ” Lucius said.

“We will camped in front of the town, Lucius,” Asinius interrupted, “ in this weather, the Britons will not be able to see us setting up our camp.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucius said.

Tramp, tramp, went the soldiers’ feet and the sound continued, filling the area again and again, dominating the woods and the mountain, bringing tales of terror, sorrow,

Trier was to fall in a day.

******************

Taximagulus stood near the wooden wall surrounding the town. The news from Samarobriva was troubling. Taximagulus knew the Romans forces well enough, having fought with the Senate on many occasions. For Samarobriva to fall in a day to the other Roman factions was understandable as they commanded some of the best and well-trained armies in the Mediterranean area; but for Samarobriva to fall to the Juli was impossible. Although the Juli faction had the largest army, half of the numbers were made up of barbarian mercenaries and the troops were poorly trained.

Now, news came on flooding to him about this Juli army that conquered a well-fortified town in a day. At first, Taximagulus wanted to send an army to wretch back the town from the filthy Romans’ hands. However, the Juli somehow negotiated with his father and there were soon uneasy peace between the two factions. At least Drusilla came back; his father was concerned about her and was about to move heavens to find her when she came shuffling into Trier.

A half-naked warrior covered in woad came up to Taximagulus. Beating his left chest with his right fist, he uttered a guttural sound.

“Any news?” Taximagulus asked.

“No, but many people from the surrounding lands are fleeing from an army. Rumours is said that there is a Juli army on a rampage,” the warrior replied.

Taximagulus sensed a sneer in the warrior’s voice but did not say anything. This was not the time to agree with the warrior on anything. He had to establish his role as a mighty leader and he did not want to give out any opinions.

“Have our spies seen any army,” Taximagulus asked.

“No,” the warrior replied.

“Okay, so how are the other warriors doing?”

“Restless for battle,” the warrior said, with another sneer in his voice.

“How is my sister?” Taximagulus ignored the sneer.

“She is fine, she is resting well,”

“Good, you can go back now,” replied Taximagulus

But the warrior refused to move. Instead he kept on standing beside Taximagulus as if waiting for something. Taximagulus ignored him, he hated this warrior; hated the way he behave and talk, he hated every fibre of the warrior. Though Taximagulus was the son of a great chief, this warrior treated Taximagulus with contempt. True, the warrior was one the greatest among Briton, but at least Taximagulus demanded some respect.

“Your sister is very beautiful, she is coming of age,” said the warrior.

“Well, then ask my father for her hand,” snapped Taximagulus. Instantly, the warrior stiffened. Taximagulus ignored the glare from the warrior and peered through the snow, hopping to see that annoying pest of the Juli army. As if with great reluctance, the warrior walked softly away. When Taximagulus was satisfied that the warrior was gone, he heaved a sigh of relief and desperation and soon the feeling of fear settled on his heart again.

*************

Asinius paced around his fort, it had not stopped snowing for two days and Asinius thanked the gods for his good fortune. At least the Britons will not be able to see us, he thought.

He had forced the soldiers to remove their armour; for fear that the soldiers would make too much noises. He ordered the horses to be kept in a well-sheltered area and be given oats and kept comfortable and warm so as to quiet and calm the animals down. All fires were only allowed in the tents and only for a certain period. They were now close to the enemy and extreme precautions had to be taken.

Asinius breathed heavily, although the storm had passed, it was still snowing as heavily as before. Blessed the gods, though Asinius, at least the enemy would be taken by surprise.

“Are you all right?” Lucius appeared behind Asinius.
“No,” Asinius replied, his face set in a fierce mask of concentration.

“You know, when I was a young man like you, just fresh out of training, I was fortunate enough to be send to your father’s cohorts. One night, when I was guarding the fortress gate, your father passed by with a centurion and he said something,” Lucius paused as he adjusted his cloak around him. Taking in a painful breath of the cold air, he exhaled before continuing, “he said, ‘the barbarians are formidable, they fight in numbers. They are fierce, they have great spirits, they have bravery, and they have everything a Roman soldier could wish for. But they, they are like the eagles; the eagles have no companionship except their mates. The eagles fight alone.
“ ‘But we, we Romans are different. We fight in groups. We have companionship, we have trust among us; can you trust a barbarian? No, look at our mercenaries; they are constantly fighting among themselves. But we, descendants of Romulus, we are wolves, we fight in pack, we are Romans,’”

Asinius drank in every word Lucius told him. The painful memories of not being with his father during his death still cause his heart to ache. But still, somewhere, during Lucius’s narrative, he felt that something was wrong. Yes, the barbarians were just a mass of individual warriors. But still, as Asinius thought, can a wolf fight alone and how effectively? Yet, it was just a strand of thought and Asinius brushed it aside.

“Have my orders been conveyed throughout the whole camp?” asked Asinius.

“Yes, they are done,” replied Lucius.

“Lucius, I want four small groups of legionaries posted at each side of the camp. If they hear anything suspicious, they are not to alert the whole camp but they have to send one soldier to me,”

“Yes, my lord,” replied Lucius.

“Thank you for the story, Lucius,” Asinius said to the old soldier walking away. Slowly, the veteran turned around and gave a small smile before raising his right hand in the Roman salute.
************

The night passed uneventfully, or in Taximagulus’s case, it was quite an eventful night. As usual, he made his secret rounds and caught five warriors who were supposed to be on garrison duty, asleep. Angrily, he threw the warriors into the town’s prison as a punishment, only to find the warden sopping drunk. He threw the warden into prison with the warriors.

A small crack of light broke through the sky’s black curtains. Day was coming and soon, Taximagulus would receive news from his spies. Yet, all night, he had an uneasy feeling that would not go away. He kept going to the temple to pray to the gods for victory but somehow, his feelings never went away.
Taximagulus hurried. He wanted to go to temple before arousing and getting the warriors ready. Walking in fast steady steps, he walked through the quiet streets of the town before arriving at the temple that stood in the town centre. He was about to enter the temple’s grounds when something caught his eyes.

On the vast temple roof, an eagle lazily preened its feathers.

That’s odd, Taximagulus thought; there are no eagles in this area. Eyeing the eagle for a moment, Taximagulus ignored it before walking into the temple. A few moments later, Taximagulus was done with his prayer and petition to the gods. As he walked out of the temple, he cast an involuntarily look towards the roof and saw that the eagle was still there, watching him lazily from the corner of its round, golden eye.

Taximagulus stared at the eagle, he disliked the way the eagle stared at him, it seemed as if it was brining bad news to him. But the thing that he disliked the most was that the eagle’s eye reminded him of the eye of a dead warrior. Large and frozen and unmoving, that was how the eagle’s eye looked like.

Pesky animal thought Taximagulus and he continued walking through the streets. Some civilians were awakening and the weak sun had finally cracked through the lazy haze that was reluctantly parting. The low mud covered huts were soon emitting smoke from the centre of the roof, signs that mothers and wives were preparing breakfast. Taximagulus breathed in calmly, his fears gone, as if it went away with the night. There were no Roman army, there were no sounds or movement and all were safe.

Walking to one end of the street, Taximagulus entered a large wooden house that stood on a small hill. At least from here, he could survey the surrounding lands for hours. As he stood on the steps of his house, Taximagulus peered through the swirling snow and haze and tried to look out for any tangible evidence of an army.

“How was your round?” a voice spoke up behind him.

Taximagulus turned and saw his sister standing at the doorway, wrapped up in bearskin; a gift from her father. Ignoring Taximagulus, Drusilla stared at the sky, watching an eagle flying around the sun.

“How is your leg?” Taximagulus asked, not answering Drusilla’s question.

“It is better,” she replied.

Taximagulus turn his gaze to her leg; it was wrapped up in a white cloth with a stick stuck in it. The medicine man said that it would take a few months before the bones would heal back. But for now, Drusilla needed plenty of rest.

“Look at the eagle,” Drusilla raised her head to the sky.

“Yes, what is so special about it?” asked Taximagulus.

“At Samarobriva, I saw the same eagle,”

“How can you be so sure it is the same one?” asked Taximagulus.

“Was the eagle resting on the roof of the temple when you went there?” asked Drusilla.

Taximagulus was shocked. It seemed that whatever happened at Samarobriva, Drusilla knew. Something strange had happened there but too few refugees had escaped from that town to give Taximagulus enough information on what really happened. Watching the eagle flying in the sky, he had a strange apprehension that something wrong would happen today.

“Watch the eagle,” Drusilla said, “see how it flies around the sun a few times, soon it will stop and it will fly in another direction. Towards that direction, there, lies a Roman army.”

Taximagulus remained silent. He wanted to brush aside this absurd idea. However, as he look at Drusilla, there seemed to be a look of resignation on her face, as if Death had came to take her once again. His mind slowly drifted and looking at the eagle flying away from the sky, he played back a few words that he heard from the refugees a year before, about some thundering eagle. But then, the refugees could mean the legions standards. But somehow, Taximagulus had a small feeling of doubt in his heart.

“Drusilla, go, pack your things, take whatever you need, I want you to go back to our isle, go back to Father, go now,”

“What about the people here?” asked Drusilla.

“It is too late, even if I make all the people escape, they will be hack down by the Roman Army before they can even make it to the next town,” said Taximagulus.

“But you can’t leave…”

“No, I want you to go. If you die, Father will be heartbroken, and then he would be dispirited. It is dangerous to have a dispirited chief for Britannia, we could be wiped out by the Romans.”

“But…”

“No, go, go now! I will send some soldiers with you. You do not need to worry, just go, run to the nearest town and then board the earliest ship you can find and go back to the isle.”

Drusilla’s eyes brimmed with tears. The though of having to lose her brother to the Romans made her heart ached. Silently, she walked up to her brother before placing her hands on his rough cheeks. Taximagulus stood there, not moving. At last, he pulled a small copper ring from his finger and removed Drusilla’s hands from his cheeks.

“Keep this ring for me, at least, you have something to remember,” Taximagulus said.

“My leader!” A spy came running up the steps towards Taximagulus.

“What is it?” Instantly, Taximagulus changed from a soft brother to a hard leader.

“The Roman Army, it is here! In front of us! They are marching towards us,” cried the spy.

“How big is it?” asked Taximagulus.

“I do not know but it look big, it seemed as if they are bend on slaughtering the whole town.”

Instantly, Taximagulus turned to Drusilla and for a moment, both of them stared into each other eyes, knowing that they would never see each other again. With a great reluctance, Drusilla hobbled into the house.

“I want you to announce and call all warriors and all males,” Taximagulus informed the spy.

“Yes, great one,” the spy bowed before running to ring the bell.

So this was it, the second city to fall to the Thundering Eagle. As Taximagulus looked up the sky, he saw the eagle flying towards the direction of the Roman Army.



This is a very long part. But just enjoy the violence. cheers.
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Chapter 10 – The Fall of Trier – Part 2
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Asinius rode calmly on his horse, the eagle perched on his right shoulder, preening its feather. His vast army of legionaries was marching towards the unsuspecting town, announcing its doom. The face of every legionary was tense, awaiting for the battle that will soon start, the archers held an arrow in their bows, itching to shoot it into a stinking barbarian’s heart and the cavalry looked tensed and they had difficulties controlling their agitated horses.

Asinius reached out his left arm and stroked the eagle with his leather-covered hand. In fact, both his hands and arms were covered in leather, something unusual for a Roman commander. Stopping its preening, the eagle raised its head and looked at Asinius questioningly who stretched out his right hand. With a slight flutter of its wings, the eagle hopped onto the hand.

“You’re free to fly,” Asinius said to the eagle, “go now, go and hunt for your food.”

Without any further persuasion, the eagle raised its wings and with a leap, it flew into the white sky. Asinius watched the eagle, admiring its grace in the sky, the perfect way in which two different elements became one. Within a few flaps of its wings, the eagle was already soaring in the heavens, circling the golden sun that was the house of the god Apollo.

“It is a fine eagle,” Lucius said as they both watched the eagle flying away to the mountains.

“Yes,” said Asinius.

“Then why did you release it?” asked Lucius.

“I did not release it, the eagle is an independent animal and it need some time on its own, it will come back to me.”

“Hmm,” huffed Lucius, “those times you spent with that Briton animal trainer, I wonder how you can lead this battle.”

Turning, Asinius looked at his bodyguard with a twinkle in his eyes, “I assure you, Lucius, I am still as Roman as ever, nothing will change me.”

Lucius laughed and stared ahead toward the small town nestled in the forested valley. Slowly, his countenance changed and a grim look covered his laughing eyes. At the front line, the three usual units of barbarian mercenaries carried their battle rams, moving at a steady speed and chanting a rhythm song. As they near the wooden walls of the town, a sudden hail of javelins speed over the walls and into the units of mercenaries.
“Order the archers to fire at will!” Asinius yelled to his messenger.

“Yes, sir,” replied the messenger and kicking his horse, the messenger galloped towards the archers, waving a signal flag.

“FIRE AT WILL!” came the simultaneous roars from the three captains of the three units of archers. At once, a volley of arrows streak across the sky and over the wall and soon sounds of groans filled the area behind the walls.

“Order all three legionary cohorts to the left of the gate, two at the right of the gates, and the Urban cohort and Praetorian cohort to gates,” Asinius told Lucius.

Waving his hand, Lucius signal the messenger to raise the signal flags. Within minutes, the ground rattled its bones as all legionaries ran forward, standing just behind the mercenaries that were battering the walls down.

With an agonising slowness, the mercenaries raise the ram before releasing it and watching the wooden log crashed against the walls with a rock-breaking force. Overhead, the sky darkened as volleys after volleys of arrows flew above the infantry troops.

Slowly, the army waited, the soldiers’ blood had now reached to a boiling point and the fidgeted impatiently. With a steady rhythm, the rams continued their slow destruction of the walls. Fortunately the Britons ceased their fire but the Roman archers were still firing their potent sticks over the walls.

Then it happened.

With a great sigh, the wooden gates finally swung open under the deadly force of the ram. The walls on the right and left side of the gates collapsed in a dramatic fashion, with dust swirling the hazy air. Silently, the Romans waited for the enemy. The archers stopped firing, their bows all aimed at the exposed gaps of the walls, waiting, waiting for the enemy to rush out. The legionaries clenched their pilums, ready to hurl it at any barbarian’s throat. The cavalries behind Asinius waited impatiently and the horses whinnied and tossed their heads. Silence ran over the whole army, as if it were facing a formidable force of ghosts from the Underworld.

Silence and smoke in the air.

Silence and smoke in the air.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

“ARGHH!” yelled an enemy who was standing on a wooden cart harness to two horses.

“MARCH!” said a mercenary captain. Raising their spears, the mercenaries moved a few paces forward before lowing their spears onto the chariot.

Immediately, several spears impaled the driver and his eyeballs were gouged out. With the sound of life escaping from him, he slumped forward onto the horses that panicked and ran towards the other chariots behind.

“Signal the Praetorian Cohort forward,” said Asinius. Waving another signal flag, the messenger rode through the ranks of soldiers towards the Praetorian Cohort. Without wasting a moment, the cohort commander yelled an order and soon a hail of pilums swished over the head of the mercenaries and struck down the chariots. With a great cry rising from the cohort, the Praetorian rushed forward and began fighting the chariots with the mercenaries.

Asinius strategy and training had been put to good use. All the legionaries aimed from the deadly scythed wheels and destroyed the spokes of the wheels as soon as any chariots came near, thus disabling the fast, deadly vehicles immediately. With the drivers and soldiers on the chariots helpless, the mercenaries struck them with their spears.

At the right of the gate, a fierce embroiled had begun between the Briton swordsmen, woad warriors and the legionaries. Overhead of them, the arrows rained on the Britons, effectively wiping out a unit of swordsmen. However, the woad warriors let out a ferocious cry and charged at the legionaries.

Sword pitted against sword, men against men, blood spilled and dripped onto the saturated soil. One legionary swung his gladius onto a barbarian’s head with such force that blood spurt out from the barbarian’s nose and mouth and leak out from his ears. Without uttering a word, the warrior collapsed onto the ground. The legionary raised his gladius and let out a cry of victory, only to be beheaded by a swinging sword from a warrior.

Slowly, the legionaries were push back by the fierce fighting put up from the small number of woad warriors. Even though the mercenaries came to aid, many of the men were slaughtered by the onslaught of the woad warriors.

Then a sudden blow came from the Britons.

As the legionaries were slowly retreating under the heavy blow, a number of light chariots rushed at the legionaries, slicing some soldiers at the waist with their scythes. Panic rushed through the legionary cohorts like a bush fire and soon, the soldiers turned and fled for their lives.

“Send two units of cavalry!” Asinius said and the messenger raised a signal flag.

Horses whinnied and specks of saliva flew from the beasts as they snorted and rushed towards the chariots and the wrecking woad warriors. The cavalrymen roared and with a surge, the horses at the front made a leap and came crashing onto the woad warriors. One warrior was struck in the chest and collapsed under the weight of the animal. With a groan, he tried to get up, only to be throttled on by other horses. One particular hard blow burst his skull and his brains were scattered throughout the ground.

******************

Taximagulus watched the chaos from his chariot. Apprehension had first struck him as he saw the vast size of the army. But now, fear took hold of his heart and he stood mortified, not knowing how to prevent the slaughter caused by the Romans. He had sent his remaining chariots towards the right of the gate, where the battle was at least gaining ground. However, out of nowhere, numbers of Roman cavalry poured onto the chariots and the woad warriors and practically exterminate them.

“Retreat, retreat back to the square,” Taximagulus stared wide-eye at the ongoing bloodbath.

“Great one, but we have to…” a bodyguard asked.

“No,” interrupted Taximagulus, “no, we cannot save our warriors, they have to fight to the death. We need all our remaining forces to defend the square as long as we can.”

“But…”

“NOW!”

Without further hesitation, the bodyguard yelled an order and soon the remaining cavalry thundered away to the square, away from the shrieking madness that consumed every soldier and warrior at the walls.

********************

Silence at once wash over the field; there was no more fighting. All the remaining Briton warrior and chariots had been killed. Hundreds of soldiers and warriors alike lay on the battlefield. Asinius surveyed the death scene. Although he kept a calm exterior, he was sick in the stomach and almost wanted to vomit at the sight of gore and carnage that lay before him. This was even worse that he could imagine.

“Send all soldiers into the town,” said Asinius.

“Yes, sir,” said Lucius and he waved towards the messenger who blew a horn. The cavalry trotted at a steady pace. Slowly, they gain momentum and soon, in a thunderous charge, the cavalry swept past the infantry troops and burst into the town square. Asinius dug his heels deep into his horse side. The feeling of sickness was slowly replaced by anger, anger and determination. Anger at how the Britons always broke the treaty with his father, determination in proving to his father that he, Asinius Commodus; son of the Legendary Infantryman, can be a worthy general.

With a lusty roar, Asinius surged ahead of the cavalry and streaking past the streets, he rode through the maze, ignoring all twists and turns, just concentrating on riding straight at full gallop and soon, Asinius saw the square.

He and Taximagulus locked their eyes on each other.

*****************

He stared at the Roman, first in fear and wonderment, then admiration before the feeling turned into a deep burning hatred. Was this not the Roman that lay waste to Samarobriva? Was this not the Roman that slain his cousin? Was this not the Roman that lay waste to miles of Briton land? Thoughts ran through Taximagulu’s mind and with a mighty roar, the enraged Briton whipped his horses with his reins and charged at the Roman with his chariots.

The Roman jerked his horse to the left and managed to escape from the scythes. Taximagulus roared in frustration and anger, not caring about his safety and swinging his chariot around, he drove the chariot towards the Roman again, who yet managed to avoid him. And so a personal battle took place against the backdrop of the raging cavalries from both sides.

*****************

Asinius eyed the Briton carefully. A few times, he managed to avoid the raging Briton. However, it was becoming increasingly harder as more and more horses swamped around him.

With measured patience, Asinius jerked his horse away from the Briton. But this time, as he passed by the chariot, he swung his gladius against one of the ropes tying one of the horses to the chariot. Immediately, the chariot became uncontrollably, with a roar, the Briton lunged at Asinius.

“Swished,” before the Briton could respond, Asinius struck the Briton in his chest, before withdrawing the dripping gladius. Slowly, the Briton sank into chariot and stared at the sky.

*****************

There was pain. But it was only fleeting pain. Taximagulus stared at the sky. Oblivious to the sound of his retreating warriors, to the sound of the victory cries from the Romans. Memories flashed past his eyes, the day when he first held his own sword, the day when he joined a campaign with his father, every moment, every smell, touch, sight and sound and memories flashed before him. Clenching his gold chain, Taximagulus thought of his family and with a whisper of goodbye, he breathed his last before slumping forward in his chariot.

****************

“We are victorious!” cried Asinius and a cheer went up from his troops. Yet the words rang hollow and meant little to him. Looking at the Briton general in his chariot, Asinius’s heart wept at the man’s bravery, his heart wept at the carnage that at occurred, at the destruction that he caused. What happened to him that caused him to order the slaughter of so many courageous men? Looking at the sky, Asinius watched as the eagle glide around in the sky.

****************

Drusilla looked back. She never saw the terrible battle or a brother’s death. But in her heart, he knew he was dead, probably killed by a legionary or cavalry. She heard the roars of the men, the clash of the armour against armour, swords against swords, and each time when a groan of pain was loud enough for her to hear, her heart broke and she wept.

Tears streamed down her eyes as she and her convoy made their way to the nearest Germanic port. Silently, she cried, not only for her Briton kinsmen, but also for her Roman kinsmen.

So conclude the end of part one. The new part will be coming up. :san_grin:

Quote:

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Originally Posted by littlelostboy

So conclude the end of part one. The new part will be coming up. :san_grin:

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How is the second part coming along? It would be a pity if you gave up after setting the scene so well.

Sorry for the long delay but I've been busy the past few months. Exams, family visits for New Year and Christmas and all that. Now I'm back and can continue Part II that I've promised. :bow:
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Chapter 11 – The Origins of an Empire
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From a struggling faction that had to face barbarian hordes daily, from an unknown faction that had to obey every command of the Senate, from a poor faction that had to struggle to fill its own treasury, the Juli had rose from the ashes like a phoenix.

Tiberius Corpulentus, now a legend in the Roman world, laid the wheels and cogs of conquering and the foundations of an empire. Irony was it that Tiberius did not come from the direct line of the founding father of the Juli faction. He was an outsider, married to a daughter in an obscured branch of the family. When he was married, he was given an unimportant post in an unimportant army, for the Juli was saturated with sons from the Corpulentus family.

But Tiberius, he was ambitious, as all conquerors are, and he was determined to achieve his ambitions.

And so, he went for all the battles, particularly the ones against the Gauls. For he believed that there, at the north of those vast untamed lands, was where his fortune and fame lies.

His first battle was a heroic victory, one that will be retold for ages, he and his rag-tag army defeated a vast army of well-trained Gauls. 9000 Gauls was killed with many more wounded and Tiberius only lost 300 of his men. But whether the figures were exaggerated, one would never know. Still, it was an important battle and it established a place for Tiberius to prepare himself for the political world.

Yes, as much as Tiberius loved the military, his ambitions in the political world outshone his military ambitions. One summer, after subduing the vanquished Gauls, he led his now vast and glorified army to the countryside of Rome. The Senate panicked and thought that Tiberius was about to lay siege to Rome, but what happened next came as a shock.

When the vast gates slowly swung opened, vast numbers of prisoners shuffled through the city streets. The long line of Gauls astonished the Senators and the citizens alike. Yes, they had heard about Tiberius’s exploits in Gaul, but they never expected to see such huge numbers of prisoners. Before they could recover from the shock and awe what they saw next made some nearly had a heart attack on the spot.

Piles and piles of gold and booty lay upon wagon after wagon. Food and delicacies from the region of Gaul lay upon special wagons and these were all paraded before the amazed eyes of the Romans. But that was not all. For soon, Tiberius entered, surrounded with his magnificent cavalry, clad in golden armour, it shone brightly in the sun, making him look like a god from the heavens. His huge stallion covered in gold dust and its mane was braid with such painstaking pattern that it seemed as if the stallion was born with them.
That day was a triumph for Tiberius; it was a victory and a conquest for him, for finally, he, Tiberius Corpulentus, was able to hold his head up high. Spending many months in Rome, the eloquent Roman outtalked and debated in the Senate, something that had never happened in over a century, since the first leader of the Juli faction. Tiberius spent many nights studying the structure of the Republic; he knew that one day the Republic would fall, there were simply too much ambitious men from the following Roman factions.

Tiberius made friends with many Senators; he gathered many allies and slowly began ousting the Scipii and the Brutii factions and even some of the Senate family members itself from the Senate offices. With his immense power and influence, he installed many of his family members in all of the most influential Senate offices and left the lowest two offices to both the Scipii and the Brutii.

The next move was a bold one. One day, Tiberius strolled into a meeting and interrupting it, he declared himself a Consul. Naturally, there was a commotion, many Brutii and Scipii family members declared it an outrageous proclaim. But it was useless for the Senate family members looked upon Tiberius with a favoured eye. The citizens of Rome held Tiberius in high esteem for he was the one who vanquished the whole of Gaul, he was the one who increased the slave trade volume, he was the one who brought back luxuries that was never seen before, Tiberius was, in short, a half-deity.

Being Consul, Tiberius left Rome. The Senate and the citizens were upset, they wanted him to stay on and lead the Romans to further glory. Tiberius refused; he said that the Britons and Germans were about to overrun his northern border. If no one stopped them, the barbarians could sack Rome itself. Satisfied with this answer, the Senate and the citizens of Rome bade Tiberius farewell as he left the city of several hills.

But that was a lie.

The Juli faction was in tottering ruins. News had spread throughout the faction of Tiberius’s glory and many of the family members were in a joyous mood. Added to the fact that many of their family members had gain prestigious offices in the Senate, they seem to end to the fortunes that had befallen onto their own faction. The Juli faction leader was in extremely celebrative mood, to the point where he ordered all of his over-confident family members to create a vast army.

This result in a vast number of poorly trained soldiers and they were scattered around the regions in a disordered manner. Tiberius was furious. He did not made the Julis rich just for this. Storming into the capital, Arretium, Tiberius marched up to the faction leader and declared that he was to be made a faction heir. At first, both the faction leader and his son, Spirius, laughed at the absurd notion. But when Tiberius passed a message from the Senate to the faction leader, they were both shocked, for no one knew that Tiberius had been made Consul.

Reluctantly, the leader consented and made Tiberius a faction heir. Spirius was shocked and raging at everyone, he descended into madness. It was only years later when Tiberius passed away that he was made a faction leader (no one knew why, but the reason was only known to Asinius and Tertius the Diplomat) but by then, he became so mad that Asinius had to handle everything behind the scene.

A year later, the faction leader died, making Tiberius the faction leader of the rising Juli faction. It was at the same time that baby Asinius was born, born to a man who had achieve it all, Faction Leader and the powerful Consul of Rome.

What Tiberius had done was unspeakable, for he had achieved the highest goals desired by all Romans at a young age of 37. But still, Tiberius was unsatisfied. The Brutii faction had the most well organized and well-trained army. Tiberius was determined to overcome them and soon began the long, slow years of reform that swept through the regions of the Juli faction.

By the time Asinius came of age, the Juli was the most powerful faction, the richest faction and the largest faction among the Roman world. But then, the barbarian hordes had awakened again.

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Chapter 12 – A Secret Meeting
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It was dark, dank and infested with rats and fleas. Sewage from nearby buildings flowed lazily in it, giving out a pungent and nauseous smell that came from rotten and decomposing things that floated in it. The walls of the tunnel were dripping in slime and moss and small insects crawled around the walls and ceilings. At both sides of the sewage ran two concrete pavements that were just enough for a group of people to walk in single file.

A man cautiously walked out from a door at the side of the tunnel. Although there was no one around in this infernal place, the man looked carefully to both his sides before stepping out of the door into the tunnel. Without a concern, he slowly lifted his sandaled feet from the safety of the door into the slimy floor. Slowly, he moved as his sandals made contact with the floor. With great trepidation and caution, he stood at the side of the underground sewer.

Three men came out after him, each hissing out threats and sounds of disapproval. However, the first man paid no attention to them, more important things was on his mind. Moving slightly ahead to give he and the others more room, the first man stood still in the darkness, waiting for the others to regain their composure.

“By the gods, Otha, what is the meaning of this?” one of the men walked up angrily to Otha.

“Shush, this is a very secret message, the only safe place to tell you is here, even the dark alleys above are too dangerous,” replied Otha.

“Still, could you not choose a better – ” With a small gasp, the man clutch his throat as Otha plunged a dagger into it. Withdrawing his dagger, he caught the dead man in mid-air, before deposing the body into the sluggish, oily sewage.

“What is going on?” asked the other two men in unison. They had heard a splash and were getting more and more nervous by the moment.

“Nothing,” called out Otha, “could be just a rat falling into the river,”

Walking towards the two men, Otha grasped his dagger. The stifling air was suffocating him and making it harder for him to concentrate. Light from far ends of the sewage filtered into the tunnel, allowing Otha to see the two men as clearly as he could. Fortunately for him, the two men were standing in a dark spot, blinded and nervous and certainly helpless. One the men, an old looking man with a bald patch on his head and bulging belly was wringing his toga in distraught. The other man, a young one with the characteristic smooth olive colour was trying to act calm, but from his frantic hand movements, Otha knew the lad was petrified.


“Where are you Otha!” the old man said, twisting his toga more and more.

“Here, behind you,” whispered Otha.

Raising his dagger, Otha caught the old man in the chest who groaned like a thundering elephant. For an instance, Otha’s heart leaped from his chest. The sound echoed and vibrated through the tunnel, tearing apart the silence that was there and nearly bursting Otha’s eardrums. Some bats flew around, shrieking their annoyance and adding to the racket. Finally, with a great heave, Otha shoved the dying man into the river whose body soon sank like a sack of boulders.

“Otha, what is going on?” the young man cried, this time fearful and trying to grope his way back to the door.

“Calm down! Your uncle just had a stomach ache,” said Otha, who immediately cursed himself for making up such a horrible excuse. Luckily, the young man fell for it and standing rooted to his spot, the young man turned and peered into Otha’s direction.

“Uncle, are you all right?” asked the young man.

In an instance, Otha plunged the dagger into the young man’s heart. For a while, Otha and the young man struggled, one fighting to push the dagger deeper in while the other fighting for his life that was slowly sapping away. Otha struggled, surprised at the youth’s strength. With all his strength and determination, Otha forced the dagger a few inches into the youth’s chest. At last, with a fearful whisper, the young man’s body slackened. Quickly, Otha withdrew the dagger and with a last look at the youth, he kicked the body into the sewage who joined his two other compatriots in the same fate.

Otha heaved a heave a sigh of relief. His work was finished. All he needed now was to collect his reward. With a careless toss, his dagger flew into the sewage where it joined a hundred and one items at the bottom of the oily river. With a last look around Otha whistled a tune steadily. Opening the door, he entered the other side. Closing it behind him, he fastened the door before continuing his way up a flight of steps.

**********

Appius Sulla stood on his vast balcony, staring out at the bustling road beneath him. As he stood there watching the movements and the activities of the people below him, he saw a plain looking person walking up the steps of his home. With a quick look to the left and right, the person disappeared into Sulla’s home as fast as he had appeared before the steps. Sulla smiled; he had been waiting for this day, this very day.

With a causal gesture, Sulla arranged his toga and nodded at a few people below before walking into his private chamber. In there, three men were lounging on the couches, picking at the fruits and desserts that were laid on the centre table. One man had almost the same features as Sulla, the brown eyes, sharp nose, with a fine lips resting on his strong chin. His hands were smooth and white, an evidence betraying that this was a man who abhorred military life and prefer the academic and political world.

Another one laid in the centre, a fat, podgy man with unsightly rolls of fats bulging out at inappropriate places. He was the only eating the foods with gusto while the other two toyed with it. But his small, beady eyes had an intelligent glint to it and the thin sharp lips exposed the man to the world that he was a man not to be fooled with, must less to take advantage on.

The last one sat on right. Compared to all the other men in the room, he appeared to be a god, like Apollo. His fine features were a stark contrast to the hard features of the other men. His straight nose, his golden eyes, his golden hair that rested gently on his brows and his full, soft lips was enough to make all the girls swoon in delight as he walked to the Forum daily. His whole body was proportional, well muscled and his skin was as smooth as a newborn baby. A first glance at this man would never think that he was capable of fighting in a battle or a fight itself.

“Sir, Otha is here,” whispered Sulla’s personal aide as he crept into the chamber.

“Good, where is he,” asked Sulla.

“He is waiting outside,”

Nodding, Sulla dismissed his personal aide. His three compatriots eyed him closely, waiting for the signal that they so badly wanted.

“Gentlemen, please excuse me for a moment,” said Sulla.

With a smooth movement, Sulla walked out of his chamber. Directly in front of him, Otha stood there with a calm but alert posture, his hands resting at the sides of his hips. As Otha stared at Sulla with a passive face, Sulla smiled and readjusted his toga around him.

“Is the deal done?” asked Sulla.

“Yes, the three boats are now floating down the river,” came the passive reply.

“Were there any problems?”

“No, everything went smoothly, you have nothing to worry about,”

“Good, good,” said Sulla calmly. Delving into the folds of his neat toga, Sulla took out a small bag and handed it to Otha.

“Here is your payment,”

“Thank you,”

“I look forward to make more business with you then,” replied Sulla.

“I’m sure you will,” said Otha. With that, the calm man tied the sack at his waist. With a slight bow to Sulla, he peacefully ambled down the marble stairs.

“How was it?” asked one of the men anxiously as Sulla entered the chamber.

“The contract was successfully completed,” replied Sulla.

Smiles broke out and the fat man laughed, his rolls of fats and the couch shaking violently. Raising his hand, the portly man raised his hand and slammed it onto the marble table, crushing the pear in his hand at the same time.

“I know you are extremely happy, Herius Scipio, but there is no need to destroy my table,” replied Sulla.

Laughing, Scipio ignored Sulla and taking a pear from the golden platter he finished it in two bites.

“Are you sure it is done?” asked the handsome lad.

“Yes, Amulius Brutus, I can assure you that it is done,” replied Sulla.

A small smile of satisfaction slowly crawled across Brutus’s face. Rolling a small grape between his forefinger and thumb, Brutus stared at his other three companions, the small feeling of elation washed over him, settling on his stomach like a sweet combination of fruits and honey.

“But, I wonder whether what we did is right,” replied the last man, his sharp words piercing through the hearts of the other men.

“Lentulus Aealianus,” Sulla weighted each word carefully, “you are my relative and yet you doubt me?”

“No, I do not, but think about it, you killed Quintus Julius, will the Juli not make a big commotion out of this? Furthermore, you killed both his father and uncle, both whom are famous; surely the Juli will attack Rome itself? Or even worse, the plebeians and some of the patricians might revolt against us,”

“To the Underworld with the people, at least the Juli would never take my faction for granted again,” replied Scipio gruffly.

Aealianus ignored Scipio. “Still, if the Juli finds out about what with have done, will we not be in trouble?”

“Aealianus, Aealianus, do you think that I have not thought about everything? The Juli will never find out, they are buried deep under the sewage of Rome. Furthermore, Rome has many spies and assassins. How many does the Juli have, only a few. Yes, they have the best military, but most of them are in the north, two years march from here. Enough time for us to train and build up our ranks of soldiers,” replied Sulla.

“But – ” said Aealianus.

“No more, Aealianus,” replied Sulla; “I have another plan, now, just put everything at rest,”

The three compatriots stared at Sulla with deep thoughts on their minds. Each had their concerns. But staring at Sulla who was staring back at them candidly, their worries seemed small and fruitless. Beside, none of them had to bear the responsibility of the death of three high-ranking Julis. None of them, only Sulla, he was the one who would bear the great and profound responsibility if the plot were ever found out.

“Come, this is a time to celebrate, what is done cannot be undone,” the ever optimistic Brutus replied, breaking the silence.

With a laugh, Sulla took a place beside Aealianus and joined the merry crowd. All was happily rejoicing, relieved that the Juli had lost their stronghold in Rome, they would did not have to fear the young faction anymore, with the Juli gone from the influential political world, it would be easy to beat them militarily anytime. Beside, who would find out the plan? Furthermore, Sulla had prepared three dead bodies and he was planning to show the bodies to the public, ready to cook up a story about how the drunken Julis got so intoxicated that they fell into the River Tiber. No one would say anything, as the three Julis were known for their love of alcohol.

Glad to see it still going, littlelostboy. I will merge this thread with the other to prevent clutter.

Incidentally, do you take time to edit your story? Because there are some strange errors in it. For example, Rome is called the city of several hills. Or the final paragraph of the assasination scene: the sentences are repetitive. I find it helps to wait a few days after writing, to allow it to sink down. When I read it again, I often find many errors I overlooked. Also, reading it aloud helps to find flaws in the sentences.

Please continue, ~:wave: .

my, my, my! It's not bad at all! It's even greater than I thought! Sorry about my gigantic curiosity, but in which forum were you b4?

I was in R:TW Heavengames Forums and that is where I got banned. I was unbanned two months ago, so everything is okay. And thanks for your compliment, more of the story is coming up soon.

this is developing into a great story.... i really liked the assassin scene it was well written and i eagerly await your next update :thumbsup:

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Chapter 13 – The King of Birds
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Summer, 180BC

The eagle flew around the sky. For seven years, it had been living with the alpha. In its own heart beating furiously against its breast, the eagle still felt something was wrong. Something that was not right but the eagle did not know how to describe it. Yes, it still cursed the day when it was captured by the alpha. Still, the eagle knew that one day, only one of them had to win. All along, he knew that the alpha would win, for he seemed smarter, stronger and had a powerful aura around him.

Flapping its wings, the eagle caught a warm wind and instantly it was lifted up higher into the heavens. The eagle closed its eyes peacefully, enjoying the rush of the air stream that flowed under the wings. With a slow spiralling motion, the eagle circled higher and higher, all the time towards the radiating sun that seemed to guard over the eagle with its watchful eye.

Glancing at the sun, the eagle remembered that day when it was caught; it thought that it would be slaughtered by the alpha. It still remembered a feeling; a feeling that it had not felt since it was a young bird, but yet, the feeling came back so strongly and was so familiar that it was almost paralysed, its body seemed to refuse to move, as if it had a will on its own.

Yes, it remembered, it was fear. But still, it was not the feeling that nagged it.

The eagle flew, floating in the sky, as if the air all around him was a magic carpet. As it surveyed the ground below it, watching out for any prey. Alas, the area was devoid of any quarry. Yes, fear, it remembered the time when its mother dragged it out of the warm nest and threw it into the sky for the first time. At first, the eagle screeched and tried to flap its wings, desperate to gain some height before it pummelled to the ground. However, its mother swooped down just in time and brought it back to the nest. That was the first time it felt fear. Everyday, the same thing happened, until one day when it discovered the miracles and the joy of flight. For the first time, the baby eagle was airborne, flying ungainly with its mother.

Yes, it was fear that he remembered. Still again, it was not the feeling that was bothering the eagle.

The feeling at long disappeared from it. Still, it seemed to reside in its body, waiting to be released. The day it was captured, the feeling burst out. No, it was not fear, it was another feeling that it could not explain or describe, something that constantly tugged at its heart. Yes, the alpha had treated it well, but it was not gratefulness, no it was not. It was something else, a feeling that was foreign to it.


Something moved.

Instantly, the eagle twisted its head to the right, looking for the moving object. Its golden eyes scanning the area from its high lofty perch in the sky, looking and searching for the object, the prey.

Then it spotted prey.

Prey.

All the thoughts that it had earlier on flew from its mind only one remained. It stomach growled, eager at the prospect of the feeling of satisfaction as it capture its dinner. Flattening its wings, the eagle began to dive. The air turbulence and resistance rocked the eagle around violently. But with graceful skill, the eagle made a few turns, taking down the path of least resistance and at the same time, it tensed its muscles, increasing the speed of its descent.

The prey had spotted the eagle. With a great leap, the prey starting bounding across the field, desperate to find some hole where it could hide in safety. The eagle now knew why the prey was moving in an erratic order; it knew why the prey was not running as fast as it could. Fear. Fear had griped its dark fist around the prey, hampering its thinking, its running.

With an ever-increasing speed, the eagle flew down close to the prey, just slightly scratching the prey’s back with its talons. With a spastic movement, the prey jumped in fright and froze on the spot. Although it was a split second that it froze, it was still too long for the eagle flew back and this time, dug its talons into the back of the prey.

Warm blood oozed out from the wound and flowed freely between the eagle talons. The prey shook its head, its eyes rolling up in terror, showing all the whites and froth spewed from its mouth. It shook and shook, trying to shake off the eagle from its back. With a mighty swoop of its wings, the eagle raised the prey from a few feet from the ground. Another mighty movement of the wings, the prey was lifted higher from the ground. The eagle strained its muscles, struggling to prevent the moving prey from slipping from its grip and at the same time, trying to lift the prey from the ground.

Another mighty strain of the wings and the eagle finally released the prey from its talons. With a sickening thud, the prey smashed onto the ground, breaking all its legs in the process. The eagle studied its prey in passive concentration, watching its mangled legs and the blood that oozed out from its chest and jaws. The prey jerked and kicked, struggling to fight for its life.

With a great impatience, the eagle dived towards the prey and with a slashed of its talons, it cut deeply into the vital aorta in the prey’s neck. Blood gushed out, and with it, the prey’s life. Slowly, the prey ceased to move. The feeling that had been bothering the eagle came back again, the adrenaline of the hunt finally subsiding. However, the eagle pushed the feeling away, all thoughts were only on his carcass. With a great contentment, the eagle settled on its prey and surveyed the area around it for any other predators. Finally, satisfied there was none, the King of Birds began its feast on the huge deer.


GiantMonkeyMan: Thanks for your comment. The assassination scene was a bit contrived in my personal opinion and I tried to make it realistic as possible. But I'm glad you enjoy that scene.

--------------------------------
Chapter 14 – The Request
--------------------------------

“How did you escape?” asked Asinius, as he and Guern walked around the open aired peristyle.

“Through some small forest,” replied Guern, admiring the lush garden in the middle of the peristyle.

“Yes, but how? I sent my troops to search for the remaining survivors,”

“Your troops do not know the forest well enough,” said Guern.

Asinius made a sound of annoyance.

Both walked in silence, just walking and admiring the variety of plants that added a concoction of fragrance in the light evening air. To be more exact, Guern was admiring it while Asinius was just pondering the many thoughts that ran through his mind.

Asinius looked up at the sky, watching the night slowly taking over the day. Pursing his lips, Asinius let out a loud, shrill whistle and waited. Guern stared at him with puzzlement and suspicion written over his face. Dropping his hand to his hip, Guern lightly fingered the sword hidden in the folds of his clothing.

“No, watch,” said Asinius, knowing full well what Guern was thinking.

Guern looked up, wondering what was the Roman lad up to. Although the Briton was particularly observant, all he noticed was the night clouds hiding the streak of red in the sky and the sun setting at the west.

Then, Guern caught something with his eyes. Something moving against the clouds and it was getting larger and larger. At first, it was just a small speck, the size of Guern’s thumb but after a few moments, Guern could make up the brown feathers of the flying bird. Both he and Asinius watched in silence, as the bird slowly loomed larger in view. When it was close enough, just a few feet away from the roof, Guern saw the magnificent bird in its true splendour.

With its wings raised behind its back, the eagle smoothly swooped down onto Asinius’s leather clad arm. Guern raised his eyes in astonishment and admiration: astonishment that a wild and independent eagle was completely tamed by Asinius and admiration at the eagle fine markings. The plumage of the eagle was dark brown, with a golden wash over its head and neck. The wing tips were covered in small white strips and the eagle’s legs were feathered. The large golden eyes stared hard at Guern and the large yellow beak was pressed hard together in fury.

“You have one fine eagle,” said Guern as he watched Asinius stroking the eagle’s neck with his finger.

“Yes,” replied Asinius.

“Did you trained it yourself?” asked Guern.

Asinius turned and grinned at Guern. Both the eyes of Asinius and the eagle looked so alike, the fire and the fierce concentration burning within, that Guern, for a moment, thought that he was looking at a god.

“I would like to take credit,” said Asinius, “but no, a Briton animal trainer helped me,”

“Where did you captured it?” probed Guern.

“You asked a lot of questions,” replied Asinius, wanting to avoid the topic of the first battle between the Juli and the Briton.

“Where,” asked Guern.

Asinius sighed, he wanted to avoid the issue at all cost but it seemed that Guern was determined to reprise the issue again. For once, the thought of calling the guards tempted Asinius. It would make things a lot easier for him. But on the other hand, Asinius would be appear like a coward if Sextus and Lucius found out how he dealt with the renegade leader.

“Samarobriva,” replied Asinius.

Guern stayed silent and Asinius began uneasy as he saw a slight frown on the rebel leader’s face. Only the eagle perched tall and erect on Asinius’s arm, watching the strange exchange between the humans.

“It seems that many things happened at Samarobriva,” said Guern, “The site of your first battle, the place where my daughter barely escaped from you, the place where you got this eagle, do you think the gods could be trying to tell you or maybe me something?”

“I don’t believe in the gods,” replied Asinius.

“Then what do you believe in?”

“Ourselves, we make and control our own destinies, that is what I believe in,”

Guern stayed silent, he wanted to argue with the Roman but instead, he kept his mouth shut, knowing that there was more important things to do than arguing about philosophy. The eagle leaped and settled onto Asinius shoulder, looking at Asinius and Guern, watching them in a bored and puzzled way.

“How did you survived?” asked Asinius.

“In our own way, we lived off the land, we avoided your legions and towns,” replied Guern.

Asinius remained silent, unsure whether to feel sorry for Guern’s harsh life or to feel relieved that at least Guern managed to avoid the patrolling legions.

Guern continued, “Every night, every day, I think about my daughter, how she is and where she is,

“The last thing I heard was that she escaped to Trier and after the end of your siege, disappeared mysteriously, although her brother Taximagulus died,” said Guern

“I tried looking for her but to no avail,” relied Asinius.

“Then this is worse news,” a deeper frown came upon Guern’s face.

“Why?”

“At least when she is in your hands, she is well, but if she escape and she did not go back to Londinium, it can only mean two things,”

“What is it?”

“She has escaped to Germenia and she still alive, or perhaps dead, killed by your ransacking legions,”

“Perhaps she has escaped again,” said Asinius.

“Yes, that is what I have thought, Drusilla is tough, she will escape, she has escaped and I can feel in my bones and heart that she is still alive,”

“And the second thing?” asked Asinius.

“She is in Thrace,”

“Why that godforsaken place?”

“It is a gateway to Greece, to the lands of the Brutii,” explained Guern.

“I thought you hated Romans,”

“I prefer her to be with Romans, given her half blood,”

“Oh,”

Both remained quiet, each one thinking about the woman who had somehow elusively escaped the clutches of one man but yet did not return to the other man. Asinius’s mind was working furiously, trying to think of the possible outcomes that befell on Drusilla and yet also trying to think of something comforting to say. If Drusilla had escaped to Thrace, there should be some word from her. The Thracians were neutral throughout the whole campaign against the Britons and Germenia and for Drusilla to escape there would mean that some Thracian village or town had taken her in. Still, why was no word heard from her? Asinius pondered, trying to solve the mystery. The Thracians themselves were half-civilized people, something could happen to Drusilla anytime.

“Asinius, I have a request,”

“What?” asked Asinius, although he knew full well what was coming?

“Seek my daughter, bring her back to me. I want to see her for the last time,”

“What if I come back too late with her?”

“Then tell her to put her ring on my grave,”

“If I fail?”

“Then my gods and your gods will curse you till the day you die.”



This is then end of Part II. Part III will be coming up soon.

Is part III coming on, littlelostboy? It would be a pity if you abandoned the story after getting this far.

New part has come up! Sorry I stopped writing for quite a while but was revising hard for the past few months for my IB (International Bacculaureate) exams. But this week is the last week of exams so I can now start writing. Thanks to Ludens who keep on "goading" me :2thumbsup: . But now part three is up! Enjoy -littlelostboy-


Part III - The Wanderer

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Chapter 15 – Truth
------------------------

Winter, 180BC

Asinius sat beside the old diplomat who was reading some scrolls and dictating some letters to his scribe. The vast working chamber was barely furnished, only a few marble statues stood here and there and there were only three wooden tables in the chamber, one for Tertius set at the end of the chamber while the other two were set at one length of the room each.

Asinius read through some scrolls, all were just records on other factions, the current stance with them and the treaties signed by the Juli faction and the other factions. Asinius waited patiently for the old diplomat was meticulous in his work. Shifting through the scrolls, Asinius spotted one that caught his particular interest.

It was a record on Thrace. Lifting it up from the pile, Asinius read through the record with concentration, memorizing the important facts that would come in needy later on. Just then, Tertius finished his work and dismissed his scribe. Asinius put the scroll back onto the table, watching Tertius as he filed and packed the records in a neat order.

“Is this not a work for your scribe?” asked Asinius as he watched Tertius filing the records.

“I only trust myself with these records. Beside, these concern the very well being of the Juli faction. A scribe may betray the information to others or may misplace it,” replied Tertius.

Asinius nodded.

“So,” said Tertius, “what is your purpose of coming here? I am sure you are not here just to watch me doing all these records, right?”

Asinius remained silent. He did not know how to bring up this subject. He did not want to upset the old diplomat who had been a surrogate father to him all these years. Standing up, Asinius walked around the chamber, looking for any prying intruders who might be eavesdropping on the conversation.

“I have something important to tell you,” said Asinius, “but it might be upsetting,”

“Go on,” replied Tertius, “upsetting news is always part of my job,”

Asinius took in a deep breath, trying to arrange his thoughts like how he was taught in Greece. But somehow in this situation, it seemed to fail him and only made him more confused.
“I am stepping down from my position as a faction leader. So as in tomorrow, Sextus will be the faction leader of the Juli faction,” stated Asinius.

Tertius remained silent.

“I know it is very upsetting,” replied Asinius hastily, “but I am doing this because I am tired of being in charge and I feel that Sextus will make a better leader,”

“No,” said Tertius quietly, “you are not doing that because you are tired but because Guern asked you to find his daughter for you, am I right?”

Asinius was bewildered, wondering how could Tertius know about this matter when only Guern, Asinius, Lucius and Sextus know about it.

“Do not look so shocked, boy,” chuckled Tertius, “I know of this long before you even know about it,”

Asinius looked confused.

Tertius sighed, it was time to tell the lad the truth about everything. For many years, Tertius and Tiberius had kept it hidden and now, the time was ripe, Asinius had to know who he really was.

“Asinius, sit down,” Tertius patted on the stool beside him. When Asinius was settled, Tertius gave a tired smile and started the explanation:

“It is a long story, it goes right back to the day when you were born, no boy, do not interrupt, I will explain. I have to tell you something that your father, Tiberius, was in actual fact, not your father.”

Asinius staggered, confused and amazed at this truth.

“I know it is a shock to you, my boy, but you are actually a German, A half German to be exact for you mother was Roman, and she is still your mother up to this day. But your father was actually a German warlord. I know you are thinking how is this possible, but it is. When your mother was young, she was exceptionally beautiful, men from all over the Roman lands wanted to have her as a wife. But your mother was a free-spirited girl at that time and refuse any man advances.

“That was to change however, for one day, a diplomatic convoy was sent to parley with Germenia. I was in that convoy, together with your father and your mother followed us together with her father. At that time, I was twenty-four summers old, excited about being sent to the wild lands of Germenia. Unfortunately, when we were camping one night, your mother disappeared. There was a great commotion for your mother belonged to a great family. Her father practically halted the whole mission and instead devoted all his time, and the convoy’s time to find your mother.
“Days came, nights passed, but still the fruitless search went on. Finally, an enraged Didius Julius, who was the faction leader at that time, threatened to declare us enemies of Rome if we did not carry out our original mission. With a broken heart, your mother’s father obeyed the order, only to die a few weeks later. Your mother had always been his pride and joy.

“It was only seven months later, when your mother entered the our camp. She was pale and tired. Quickly, we brought her to a room where the physician checked her for any wounds. Amazingly, she had none and she seemed well cared and looked after for the past ten months. Even her clothes seemed clean, although they were dirtied by the mud and dirt when she trekked across the countryside.

“Your mother did not speak for several weeks. She would just spend all day hiding in her room. At first, we thought that she suffered from some traumatic experience. However, we were proved wrong when her first labour pains came. I remembered that night, it was deadly cold and the ground was covered with frost. No one dared to venture out of the camp for fear of ghosts and the deadly barbarians Germans. It was then your mother issued a cry of pain, so loud that it seemed to rustle the forests outside violently.

“The whole camp ran to your mother’s room, we thought that some spirits had entered her. However, your father entered the room and holding her hand, he yelled for the physician. With some inspection, the physician realized that your mother was pregnant. It was then you were born.

“After our mission, we went back to Rome. By now, rumours had spread through the Roman lands about your mother pregnancy. Immediately, her family denounced her and the men that once flocked around her now shunned her. Left with no one and branded as an outcast, Tiberius married your mother and took care of her well. People were astonished at this move but more was yet to come. Tiberius adopted you, naming you his legal heir and son. At first, the Juli faction and the Corpentulus family was outraged at Tiberius, still, Tiberius ignored them and brought you up as his very own son.”

Asinius remained silent, unable to say anything. Thoughts swarmed his heads and questions filled his mind. There were so many things to ask and yet it was all so confusing.

“That day,” whispered Asinius, “when I wanted to make war against Germenia, is that why you stopped me and told me to concentrate on the Britons?”

Tertius nodded.

“But what about now,” asked Asinius, “will the Germans not know about my heritage?”

“No,” said Tertius, “those people that know about your heritage are now dead, the present Germans do not know at all,”

Asinius stared at the table, at lost at what to do. To hear that he was part barbarian created a deep wound in him. All his life, he swore that he would bring down the world of barbarians and now, he was one of them.



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Chapter 16 – Into Germenia
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Asinius stopped at the border of his lands. At the east laid the dark forests of Germenia and behind him laid the safety of his protected territory. For the first time, he felt the fear building up him again, the uncertainty of his quest and the vulnerability of being surrounded by hostile German tribes.

“Go with the speed of Hermes,” said Tertius.

Asinius nodded tersely, the knot in his stomach growing bigger. For once, he regretted drinking goat milk in the morning.

“Here are the letter from Lucius and Sextus. They both send their regards to you,” Tertius handed two scrolls to Asinius.

Taking the scrolls from Tertius, Asinius slipped the scrolls in the folds of his cloak. For now, he was too nervous to read the letter. He would have to do it once he got onto his journey.

“I have a feeling that I am making a big mistake,” said Asinius, running his hand through his long, matted blond hair.

“No, you are not,” replied Tertius, “although I cannot explain to you now, I have a feeling that this is the will of the gods,”

“Some will,” muttered Asinius.

“But go, time is running out, you will be home soon,” said Tertius.

Somehow, both men felt that this was not going to be the case. Still, Asinius nodded, his dark blue eyes scanning the shadows of the forests. Although they will still a mile from the nearest fort and there were no hostile German forces within the area, Asinius was taking no chances, he did not want to get shot by German forces before he even take a step onto German lands.

With a heave, Asinius mounted onto Pegasus. The white stallion gave a snort of annoyance and stamped a little on the frozen ground. Pegasus shook itself, trying to rearrange the four heavy sacks tied to its side.

“Calm down, boy,” Asinius stroked the silky mane of the stallion.

Beside Asinius was his Briton kitchen boy. Somehow, the mischievous and bright lad had overheard Asinius’s plans with Guern and had begged Asinius to take him along. At first, Asinius was reluctant, not wanting to expose a young lad to such dangerous peril. But Tertius advised Asinius to, for travelling with a lad would pass Asinius off as a harmless merchant with a servant. The kitchen lad had a small horse himself, with only two bags tied to the both sides of the grey horse. Pegasus took one look at the grey horse and snort in contempt.

“Good luck, Asinius, may the gods be with you! And do not forget to re-dye your hair every fortnight,” said Tertius.

“Yes, I’ll remember,” replied Asinius, “but I wonder if leaving so suddenly will cause great havoc within the Juli faction,”

“You know, Asinius,” replied Tertius sternly, “we went through everything together for the past few weeks, so no time backing off now,”

“Still…”

“No, say no more, the more you say, you will only hesitate more. Be on your way now. Go on!”

Nodding, Asinius wrapped his brown leather cloak around himself. With a small flick of the reins, Pegasus began a small trot towards the shadows of the German lands. The kitchen lad followed close behind, his face pale from the excitement of being in a dangerous adventure and his hands gripped the reins so tightly that the grey horse snorted once or twice in annoyance.

Tertius watched the two riding figures as they disappeared into the gloom. With a heavy heart, Tertius kicked the side of his horse and trotted slowly backed to Alesia.

“May the gods bring you back alive, son,” whispered Tertius to the wind, hoping that it would carry the last blessing to Asinius.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by littlelostboy

Thanks to Ludens who keep on "goading" me :2thumbsup: .

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My pleasure
:bow:

New updates. Enjoy. :2thumbsup:
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Chapter 17 – At the Northern Wastes
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“We should have taken the south routes,” said the kitchen lad.

“Last thing I would want to do,” replied Asinius.

“Why?” asked the kitchen lad.

“My roman soldiers are there, I want this trip to be kept secret,” said Asinius.

“We still can travel secretly in the night,” said the lad.

“Hush, no more talking, there are many hostile tribes here,” said Asinius.

“I heard that this place is the gates to the otherworlds, the world of gods or Hades,” the kitchen lad continued talking, ignoring Asinius’s command.

“I said hush! If you go on blabbering again, I would throw into a bush thicket and leave you there for the tribes,” Asinius scolded the lad but kept his tone at a conversation level so the kitchen lad missed the threat and the sarcasm just slide off him.

Yet Asinius was worried. The lad might be right for their surroundings were deadly quiet. There was no a breath of wind and everything seemed to lack life, as if some force was feeding off the pulsing life that came from the south.

The snow covered the most of their paths and when the dim sunlight struck on it, fine rainbows appeared in the sky everywhere, glaring and disorientating Asinius. The rainbows seemed menacing, as if they were bridges to the spirit worlds. There were few forests around them, the rest was just snow, rocks and frozen wastes. Yet, Asinius had a feeling that eyes were watching them from the forests.

He wished that the eagle were with him, roosting on his shoulder. He missed the familiar weight of it on his right shoulder and the power of strength and aura that it gave him. Somehow, the barbarians were afraid of the eagle, as it had been proven many times when Asinius battled against the axe-wielding Germans. Yet, he wondered whether the eagle would deflect those silent stares that seemed to radiate from the forests.

The kitchen lad remained oblivious to the danger. Either it was his first time on an adventure and he was plain excited or he was just plain stupid and unobservant. Asinius sighed, wonder why Tertius forced him to take an inexperienced kitchen lad. It was just another burden for him and another mouth to feed.

“Silence,” whispered Asinius. Immediately, the kitchen lad stopped whistling and strained his ears for sounds. But all he could hear was just the ringing of silence in his ears.

“What is it? Is it an animal?” asked the lad.

“Maybe, but this one sounds different, like a scuffling of human foot,” whispered Asinius.

“A German?” whispered the boy, wide-eyed with fear and excitement.

“Could be, but quiet now, I am trying to listen,”

“We could hide…”

“No, it is no use and silence!”

Both Asinius and the kitchen lad remain silent. Even the horses sensed something and the grey horse whinnied with fear but became silent after a moment. The ringing of the silent grew louder and louder in the kitchen lad’s ears. Asinius glanced around him, staring at the forest a mile ahead, trying to see any furtive figures against the dark trees’ shadows. Slowly, without trying to make to much movement or noise, Asinius’s hand slipped down to his thigh where the cold steel of his dagger laid. Straining his ears, he heard the scuffling sounds getting louder and louder.

And nearer.

Asinius unsheathed his dagger slowly, grateful that the well-oiled and polished dagger did not make a sound against the sheath. The kitchen lad’s face was pasty white with fear, his breath coming in and out fast. With controlled precision, Asinius lifted his dagger from under his cloak, careful not to let light struck it.

“Squeak!” Asinius and the lad jolted. It sounded like an animal but yet too human to sound like an animal. It sounded more like a woman or a female making squeaking noise.

“What is…” asked the lad and then: “What in the name of Guern…”

“Do not panic!”

“It is not an animal!”

“Silence!” Asinius spoke in an angry voice. Almost at once, a huge fur-covered creature padded up to them. It had the look of a lion but yet it was too small to be a lion. Its snout seemed more pointed instead of the roundness that the lion had. Furthermore, what was a lion doing in the north? Its eyes were bright green and although it looked curious, there seemed to be a depth of something in those green pools. Both Asinius and the lad watched the creature warily.

“Best not to look at it in the eye,” said Asinius and both he and the lad bowed their heads down.

“Best to sheath your dagger too,” said the lad. Asinius just answered in a small grunt and hid his dagger under his cloak.

The creature was already sniffing the horses. Somehow, the horses seemed unafraid, acting like the creature was just some other harmless animal.

Suddenly, its ears pricked up, as if hearing a call and with a leap and bound, the creature sprinted towards the forest, disappearing as its white fur blended with the surrounding snow.

Both Asinius and the lad slowly looked up, both still tensed from the experience with the strange creature. Asinius’s hand was gripping the dagger so hard that the handle bit painfully into his skin.

“What…was…that?” whispered the lad, breaking the silence around them.

“I have no idea, I have not seen it before,” said Asinius.

“We could try and hunt it,” said the lad.

“No, we need to be on our journey. We have to reach the next three forests before night falls,” said Asinius with brutal efficiency, now that the fear was leaving him, “besides, the creature could be from the spirit worlds.”

The lad only nodded. Flicking the reins, the grey horse started trotting forward. Asinius slowly sheath his dagger back and glanced around the white and grey landscape before urging Pegasus onto the never-ending horizon.


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Chapter 18 – The Rider
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A horseman galloped furiously towards the gates of Alesia. Although the only sound that filled the air was the beats of the hooves hitting the ground, the rider looked nervously around him, watching warily for any highwaymen or for any person that was following him.

In front of him, the massive wooden gate of Alesia loomed up. The stonewalls stared bleakly at the rider and the windows in the stone walls flickered with the fires lit inside, like a thousand eyes watching the rider intently.

Jerking his rein, the rider pulled the horse to a stop. Vapours streamed out of the panting horse’s nose, its sides slick with sweat and its eyes were bulging out with the strain of breathing and galloping fast over long distances.

“I demand to speak to Asinius, Leader of the Juli Faction!” bawled out the rider, his voice echoing eerily through the mist-covered plains.

“Who goes there, and whence you come from?” came a reply from the parapet of the wall.

“My name is of no concern but I bring grave news from Rome,” yelled the rider.

“I cannot let you in if you do not give me your name, for that is the orders,” replied the sentry.

“Let me in, this is important!” bawled the rider again.

“Keeping orders are just as important,” came a different voice. This time it was a centurion, who stuck out his head over the wall, wondering who was making a din.

“This concerns the well-being of the Juli faction!” replied the rider.

“The orders concern the well-being of this important city! What is your name?” roared the centurion.

The rider was at lost. He could not give his real name away and fabricating one was hopeless ever since he yelled out that he bring grave news from Rome. Even if he gave a name now, the centurion might not believe him, as he would think that the rider would be a spy. Only one choice was left.

“My name is of great secret, centurion. But I, being worthy in Asinius’s sight, wear the medallion of the eagle!” yelled out the rider.

There was a pause. Neither the centurion nor the sentry replied. Glancing around him, the rider felt insecure and stared nervously at the forest at the east, as if expecting barbarians hordes to pour out from there and attack him any moment. The mist had begun to lift away, although it played tricks and shadows on the rider, which unsettled him or the more. Waiting impatiently for the reply, the rider stared up at the wall and muttered a irritable curse.

“Nameless one,” roared the centurion, breaking the silence and startling the rider, “I will send a ten legionaries down to search you, so as to make sure that you do not carry anything deadly and that you truly carry the medallion of the eagle.”

The rider yelled his approval and began waiting for gates to open. With a thundering groan, the massive wooden gates slowly creaked open. Every inch it moved, the rider willed it to open faster, impatience broiling in his blood. Finally, a gap appeared and two legionaries stepped out, their alert eyes peering out through the mist, trying to make out the rider in greyish surroundings.

When their eyes were accustomed to the surroundings, the legionaries stepped aside and two more legionaries marched out follow by another small column. Soon, ten legionaries were peering at the rider through the mist. Two legionaries stood guard at the gates, watching and observing their surroundings. The other eight approached cautiously towards the rider, hands on their gladius.

The leader of the group walked up right to the rider and demanded him to step down from the horse. The rider complied and as soon as his feet touched the ground, three legionaries surrounded him and search his cloak, his tunic and his body for any hidden dagger while the other four went through the horse. The leader stood back and watched the rider closely, his expert eyes darting all over, watching for any suspicious bulging. Satisfied that there was nothing, the leader called his legionaries off and requested the medallion, which the rider produced immediately. After much examining, (for the light was dim), the legionary yelled out an approval to the centurion.

The rider rode into the city, garrison of legionaries stared at him from above the wall and from the sides of the gates. As he entered the city, the huge gates clashed shut behind him. The centurion stood in front of the rider blocking the path.

“Who do you need to see?” asked the centurion.

“Asinius or Tertius,” replied the rider hastily, “Either of them!”

The centurion paused, doubtful whether to trust the mysterious rider. Gazing at the shiny medallion near the rider’s chest, the centurion finally nodded and ordered two legionaries to follow the rider.

“My legionaries will lead you to the palace,” said the centurion, “but I’ll require you to get off your mount,”
The rider simply nodded and getting off his horse, he followed the legionary ahead of him while the other led the horse along. Slowly, they disappeared into the maze of the sleeping city.

New updates. Enjoy :bow:
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Chapter 19 – Sulla Finds Out
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Sulla was in his personal chamber reading some tablets and scrolls. The vast golden and silver table was carved out with intricate designs of the Roman gods. On it was filled with numerous objects, small crystal set in a silver holder, scrolls, wax tablets, pens, knifes, sealing wax and other golden and silver treasures that somehow Appuis Sulla managed to collect. They were fine to look at, with intricate designs and their colour glittered whenever sunlight struck on them. Yet, Sulla cared not a thought for them, leaving many scattered around the cluttered table.

A tall, lanky man entered the exquisite chamber. The man envied Sulla, his wealth, his power and his lavish lifestyle. Sulla knew how to live the life of the rich and powerful, treating wealth as an outlet to indulge in his fantasies. The man stifled the jealousy in him before approaching Sulla and at the same time admiring the brightly painted marble busts and the gold and silver that seemed to overwhelm the chamber.

“Sulla, esteemed Senator…” whispered the man, bowing slightly at his waist, “I have received an urgent message for you…”

“What is it?” asked Sulla irritably; he was about to read the scrolls on the finances of Rome.

“Most important message…” the man whispered, his voice trailing off at the end of the sentence, “

“Give me the scroll,” Sulla snapped, his impatience breaking. He could not stand his own manservant. Many times, Sulla wanted to kicked his bum all the way out to the gutters of Rome but yet it was this manservant who saw the efficient running of Sulla’s household.

Snatching the scroll from the sulking and glowering manservant, Sulla read the scroll, his face slowly turning into a deathly white, then to green and then to grey. The manservant watched alarmingly as his master’s face displayed an impressing array of colours.

“Is there anything wrong…” whispered the manservant.

“No, no, no,” said Sulla, “just exit from my chamber immediately, I need to think,”

“Yes, esteemed one…” whispered the servant before walking away slowing towards the vast doors.

Sulla closed his eyes, his mind swirling at the message. Steady yourself, thought Sulla, steady yourself, think, think! Getting up, Sulla walked to the balcony and stared at the countryside surrounding Rome. Sulla thought that he saw a Juli army marching to Rome, ready to besiege and capture the Eternal City, Asinius ready to slaughter the Senators and the patricians, ready to declare himself the King of Rome, establishing the dreaded monarchy whilst abolishing the Republic. Suddenly, something snapped in his mind. Asinius, Asinius, Asinius. The word played over his head and hurrying back to his table, Sulla picked up the scroll and read it again.

“A spy had told Tertius about the killings. Word has been sent to Sextus and action is being decide by Sextus” was what the short message read.

Another message fell out; Sulla picked it up and read it. It was a scrap from some scroll:
“The Juli Faction is being threatened by our own benefactor, Rome. Actions has to be taken in all cities and regions of the Juli Factions, signed Sextus,” Below, a seal bearing the ring insignia of Sextus, the faction leader ring and the Juli faction was bored into the scroll

Word has been sent to Sextus. Sextus, why Sextus, thought Sulla, why not Asinius? Was Asinius not the faction leader? What happened to Asinius?

Thinking, Sulla sat down, running through all the possibilities, why, why Sextus? Had some secret exchange of power happened between Sextus and Asinius? Was Asinius sick and had he descended into madness? Did some Britons kill him or had he simply disappeared, abandoning the title to Sextus? If so, why? Sulla thought about all this. Yet, Sulla felt a ray of hope. No, Sextus is the faction leader now but no one, not even the Juli faction knew. Had Sextus not stamped his own insignia beside the faction leader and the Juli faction’s? That could only mean one thing: Sextus was the faction leader. Asinius was no more. Sulla smiled, things was going his way more than he hoped.

Sextus was leader, he would be easy to manipulate.

Asinius, Asinius was no more. The Juli was no more.

Has this story been abandoned? I hope not. It would be a pity to end it after it has progressed so far.

Ah Ludens, no, the story is not abandonded, I haven't even got to the middle part yet. It just that I have ran out of ideas and am taking a short break. Also with the upcoming competiton, I don't think I will be inserting any new chapters at the moment. But I will, soon, or later.