Where do you run to now, Quintus?
 by Sarah Buehler, 2007


 Chapter Nine
A ceramic bottle of wine and sour smell was the first thing he noticed when he entered the room. He looked around, but could not find the culprit of the foul stench. Quintus nose was starting to itch, his feelings about the offending smell was starting to bother him. “No, Appius Aurelius Cotta, the great roman senator is not here” Quintus said to himself after he decided that the smell was probably just part of the room. “Typical” he added as he noticed that he was really talking aloud. The slave, a young Spaniard called Modiac could not help himself but to grin. Slaves from Spain were en vogue since Scipio Asinas famous campaign in this wild and uncivilised land and a sophisticated man like Appius could not resist the exotic goods coming from the end of the world. As for the slave Modica, Quintus wasn’t mad at him for smirking, but rather surprised that he understood him. This young man mastered the Latin language so quickly, spotting the sarcasm that he implied when he referred to Cotta as a great roman senator. Appius Aurelius Cotta was not a brilliant politician, he was no man of great words or military exploits. But on the other hand he was not stupid. Appius knew how to keep friends, when to say yes when you actually mean no. In all those years, as Appius Aurelius Cotta was now in his 60ies, he became one of the oldest and most respected members of the senate. And he was a complete drunk.
 The stench, there it was again. It seemed to come from the window, so Quintus decided to move in that direction. “Ah! What a great view” he remarked as he looked outside, noticing the cityscape around him. The mansion he stood in was situated at the top of the Caelian hill, a friendly and rich neighbourhood in Rome. He cold spot some hundred chimneys from up here with fumes rising up to the sky like grey pillars.
 The smell seemed to worsen as he studied the view. He sniffed and realized that the stench was coming directly from the ground. “Oh gross” he shouted when he finally discovered that someone had vomited out of the window, covering the wall with disgusting puke.

 “Don’t worry, it’s not going to be there forever.” A strong determined voice spoke to Quintus. “I tried to get someone to clean it up all morning, but imagine this. This household does not have any leaders. Not a single one.”
“Ah, Appius Aurelius Cotta” Quintus reacted and quickly tried to hide the disgust written in his face. “On behalf of my family…”
 “No need for formalities Quintus, you have been my client for 15 years now. I think we can be more direct with each other.” The Senator said in a voice that was relaxing yet consisted a significant sound of authority while he was sitting down behind his desk. Usually a drunk like Appius would become fat over the time, but for some reason Appius stayed in perfect shape for his age.
 “Alright, so why did you call for me?”
 “Do you know my grandfather?”
 “Uh, pardon me”?
 “My grandfather! Caius Aurelius Cotta. As a lawyer and historian you should know him.”
 “Of course I do. He was the one who laid siege to Carthage, thus ending the first war we had with that city” Quintus mentioned with a suddenly determined voice.
 “Help me do the same thing.”
 “I am sorry - what?”
 Appius stood up in sudden eagerness shouting aloud: “Help me conquer Carthage. As a historian you can find out what he did and how, so I can do the same.”
 “But… I mean… History does not work that way.”
 “Why not? You can study exactly what happened and how he did that. History does work that way.” He suddenly leaped toward Quintus grabing him by his arms, passing by his desk. “You historians always say that people don’t want to learn from the past. Now you can prove yourself wrong.”
 Quintus started to think this through. Indeed Appius Aurelius Cotta, his legal patron was just asking him a favour. But the way he spoke seemed to scare him, as if Appius had no idea of warfare so that Quintus had to come up with a magic formula written down by some old mysterious librarian 40 years ago.
 “All right, all right! I just didn’t expect using my skills for war like that. I guess I can look into the books and the annual reports. Maybe we can indeed find a clue or two.”

 After the usual small talk and the discussion of some minor legal issues Quintus left the manor. “Was he drunk or is he really planning to conquer Carthage?” he thought while going down a busy winter street. He pondered the situation, Rome and Carthage were both fighting a terrible and bloody war in Spain. Landing troops in Africa might solve the deadlock in this terrible war, just that no other Senator was speaking of this option for some reason. Was it possible? Or was it simply too dangerous with an enemy who might actually have learnt from its mistakes.
 “I don’t like the idea. This is going to end bad for me.” Quintus said while he was walking down a busy street in the cold city of Rome.