Stories Thread

[Tiberius Claudius Marcellus]

Bona Fortuna

Almost a year in Roma and still no word on a military assignment. Just as well, perhaps, it's not like life in the military was a truly desirable career anyway, just a means to an end. True, it was a necessary evil though, to ensure the safety of the Res Publica and the enforcement of the will of the Senate, and, it did offer those dirty commoners who had no skills the chance to avoid a life of begging - or worse - on the streets; but it was so violent, so physically demanding! If only these Romaoi weren't so violent and hell-bent on taking over the world.

Tiberius Claudius Marcellus let out a sigh as he held his arms out for Marcus to tie the last fasteners of his clothing. The baths were usually such a refreshing place; but lately, they were absent of their soothing effect. Rome was much different than Taras. True, Tiberius' family were Romani .... in name at least. Tiberius' great-grandfather had moved his branch of the gens Claudia family tree southward to Taras to avoid Roma's warring with the other tribes of Italia. There they took up life as merchants and set about learning the ways of their Hellenic home. In Taras, Tiberius was known and well-liked, or so he thought at least. The upper middle class with whom he always associated treated him as an equal. Here in Roma, however, he was a junior Senator from a newly "liberated" province and he couldn't even get assigned to muck stables let alone command in a Legion - something these Latins all but fawned and doted over. To sit on a horse and tell men to "go forth and kill lots of them before they kill you" didn't leave quite the impression on Tiberius as it did his fellow Romani. Just one of the differences between life as a Hellene or a Roman.

"What bothers you, sire?", asked Marcus.

"Marcus, I'm afraid that I shall never be given the opportunity to rise here in Roma. I've yet to be even considered for command in a Legion despite the death of the Consul and that I come with the aid of a commander whose lifetime of experience would be invaluable to me. My quarters are so much smaller than back in Taras - and so far away from the Curia as well! It is insufferable that I, Tiberius Claudius Marcellus - a member of the Senate! be made to travel such distances for work and for sustenance. And what a mighty member indeed! They mock and ridicule my suggestions in the open! Marcus, I fear that Roma has little to offer me."

Marcus mulled over what his master had confided to him as they both walked through the Forum and markets. Suddenly, an idea came to him.

"Sire, when I commanded my first company back in Taras, oh, almost 20 years ago now, I learned that to keep the morale of my men up I needed to keep them busy. Sitting around without a goal to work towards breeds ennui and disdain for one's surroundings. My men needed direction not only on the field; but off.

"I remembered the lessons I learned when I first enlisted: 'do not make work for the sake of work'. Now, that may seem contradictory to my original statement that soldiers - and senators - need to keep busy; but I assure you that nothing will bring morale down faster than pointless effort and wasted sweat going towards a task whose purpose does not matter. My first company commander was fond of making us dig latrine ditches most of the afternoon every other day because he believed we needed to keep our minds off of sitting around waiting for an enemy to rear its head. When I became company commander I vowed never to toil pointlessly; but with purpose!"

Tiberius, half-listening as always, rolled his eyes as he handed a shopkeeper a bronze coin for two apples. The shopkeeper started to hand Tiberius back the proper copper change; but Tiberius shook his head and withdrew his hand.

"You've a greater need than I. Save what you can and one day you can better your position."

The shopkeeper thanked Tiberius profusely and offered to donate the extra money to the shrine of Ceres. 'What a foolish simpleton,' thought Tiberius. 'That is why he is a shop keeper and I am a Senator. He can't even follow simple advice.' Tiberius handed the second apple to Marcus who appreciatively took the fruit and bit into it. It was refreshingly tart and juicy. Both men walked through the milling throngs in silence while they chewed.

"Marcus, continue with what you were saying."

"Of course, sire. When I took command of my company I made sure that whatever tasks my troops did to keep busy were relevant to either their jobs, their health, or their morale. Whether we were digging latrine ditches, drilling into the night, or inviting their families for a communal meal and bonfire, there was always a purpose behind the task."

Losing interest, Tiberius interrupted, "And I should invite the Senatores and their houses to my quarters for a feast and orgy?"

Marcus coughed on some of the juice of the apple that went down the wrong way. This young man was insolent and impatient to the core. He replied, "No, sire. What I do suggest is that you do need to keep busy to keep your mind off of your boredom and lack of appointment to the Legions. Rather than sulk at your current state of affairs, keep busy at trying to better them yourself. If the Lagati won't send word to you, send word to them. If the Senatores are less-than-impressed with your status and so ignore your speeches, then, as you told the shopkeeper, better your station. You are quite capable, master, to challenge the Fates and wrest control of your own stars. 'Carpe diem,' as the Romani say."

Tiberius thought over all that Marcus had said. It made sense. Tiberius' own ancestors went and made their own fortune, why shouldn't he? Marcus had proved yet again his value. But how to increase his personal standing amongst men of power and influence and wealth? They had everything that Tiberius did not, where to begin?

It was then that Tiberius noticed a rather awkwardly dressed man about his same age haggling with a fish monger over the price of the day's catch. On closer appraisal, it appeared rather that they were arguing over the system of scales used. Intriguing, not many commoners knew how the different guilds measured what they sold against how much they sold it for. This man, however, appeared quite knowledgeable - enough so to risk causing a public scene. Tiberius couldn't help but intervene.

"Gentlemen, what is the commotion about?"

Before the fish monger could speak, the man dressed in a tunic that was two sizes too large offered his side of the story,

"Sir, this man is using rigged weights in his scales. I saw that his medium weight on the produce side is the same as the heavy weight on the currency side. He is cheating me and others."

Tiberius snatched the questionable weights from the scales as the hairy-armed fish monger started to contest the customer's accusations. Fear registered on his face when he realized that Tiberius had caught on to his scam. He began to stammer excuse after excuse while sweat poured from his forehead. Tiberius silenced him with his index finger raised in front of his face.

"You, sir, are a scandalous viper. Your corrupt business takes bread from the mouths of families who toil from sun up to sun down. Marcus, round up the nearest patrol and have this man arrested on my authority as a Senator."

Marcus came to attention, gave a quick salute of his fist to his heart and trotted off around a corner to find the nearest patrol.

"Sir," Tiberius said to the wronged man, "you are quite observant and knowledgeable of weights and measures, the law, and currency. You are an asset to your master's house."

"I am Quintus Valerius, freeman, said the man in the large tunic. I saved enough of my wages as a servant to Gnaeus Decimus Brutus Hortensio to purchase my freedom. While I worked for him I was his chief steward. I am an asset to myself, now."

'Gods be praised!' thought Tiberius. Just minutes ago he was sulking over how to better his position in life, when lo and behold a second capable man comes within reach to aid his rise to power. Surely this opportunity could not be passed up.

"Quintus Valerius, freeman: I am Tribunus Tiberius Claudius Marcellus, Sentaor of the Res Publica Romani, representative of Tarentum. I am in need of services such as the ones you provided to your former master. What say you to becoming part of my house as a freeman clerk, earning your keep and wages.......as well as some clothing that fits?"

Quintus replied, "Senator, I've no obligations to others and your house would provide better for me than the brick maker I serve now. Allow me to settle my affairs with him and I shall accept your position this evening."

Tiberius smiled, Nike be praised! "Quintus Valerius, I shall meet you at my quarters an hour before sundown with your possessions. If you do not know the way, the clerk at the Curia shall give you instructions."

The Fates were conspiring in Tiberius' favor......for now. But for how long?